Rapture's Etesian (14 page)

“Well, don’t just hover there like a timid hummingbird, Okypous. Come in!” Flavia ordered.

“If this is a bad time, Lady Flavia—”

“What is the name of that cousin of yours in Nebul?” Flavia interrupted.

“Phoebe?”

“No, fool!” Flavia snarled. “The male!”

“Oh,” Okypous said, her face brightening. “You mean Sorath.”

“Aye,” Flavia said, narrowing her eyes. “That was the bastard’s name. He is something in the Pleiadesian government, is he not?”

“I believe he is the Chief of the Secret Police,” was the reply.

Flavia smiled nastily. “Think you he might be interested to know there is a plan afoot to invade his country?”

Okypous frowned. “We would let him know our warrioresses are coming?” she asked, her voice strained. “Would that not be a treasonous thing to do?”

“Of course not, you dolt!” Flavia shouted, and struck the other woman a vicious blow. “Our women will never leave Amazeen’s borders if I have anything to say about it!”

Staggered by the brutal slap, Okypous stood with her palm pressed to the stinging pain. She was shivering and dared ask nothing more for fear Flavia would attack her again.

“I want you to get a message to your cousin and use that special code you once told me about. We don’t want anyone to be able to decipher the missive should someone intercept the messenger. We do
not
want anyone to know what we are about,” Flavia was saying as she paced back and forth, her hands clasped behind her back. “Tell your cousin, Konan Krull and Leksi Helios will be making a trek to Amazeen within the next few days. Since they will be coming across our southwestern border from Tasjorn, he can have a troop lying in wait to capture them on the Qabala side.”

“Ah,” Okypous said, and flinched as Flavia turned to glare at her.

“Tell him under no circumstances is he to allow the Venturians to cross over to Amazeen land. They must be taken before entering our lands. Stress that to him. The Qabalans won’t interfere, cowards that they are, so there should be no worry there.”

A thought crossed Okypous’ mind and she opened her mouth to speak it, but was terrified of Flavia’s reaction. Instead, she clamped her lips shut and looked down at the floor.

“What?” Flavia demanded. “You have something to say?”

Her shoulders hunched in anticipation of a blow, Okypous asked what should happen if the Pleiadesians should slay the Venturians. Would not the Council of Elders find out about it and lay the blame on her and Flavia?

“Of course those bloodthirsty bastards won’t kill the great Lord High Commander, you fucking idiot! Nor would they murder Helios,” Flavia said. “Abalam would like nothing better than to have those two handsome brutes in his dungeon. Can you imagine the exquisite pain he will put them through?”

Unease rode Okypous’ shoulders. She gnawed on her lip until a bead of blood oozed over the thin surface. She stood watching Flavia pacing, talking all manner of wildness as she walked. Though she knew she should report this scheme of Flavia’s, she knew she would not. To do so would be to court certain death.

“Go,” Flavia ordered, taking hold of Okypous’ arm in a punishing grip and propelling her to the door. “Send word now to your cousin, and make sure whomever you send does not return to report where she went!”

Chapter Nine

Kynthia was waiting at the stream. The sun had set but a few moments before and the onset of autumn was in the air. She hovered in her cloak, wrapping it around her as though she were cold. In truth, she was not. Reapers rarely felt the cold for their body temperatures are much higher than a normal person’s. What she was feeling was nervousness and anticipation and as she drew the rough material of her light cloak up to her nose—only her eyes peeked out beneath the voluminous hood—she shifted from foot to foot.

A low growl came from Kirkor, and the white wolf got up from where it laid in a patch of grass and turned to the east.

“Is it him?”

The wolf looked back at her and seemed to grin.

“Go find your lady then,” she commanded. “I want no voyeurs about when I get my hands on the warrior.”

Kirkor shook his body, his tail whipping from side-to-side then he loped away, looking back once before disappearing in the forest beyond the stream.

Throwing aside her cloak, Kynthia smoothed the fabric of her gown over her thighs—she adjusted the bodice, tugging the short sleeves into place. Not the type of clothing she normally wore, she felt uncomfortable in the garment but beneath it, her legs were bare—free of stocking or boots. Likewise, she wore no banding about her breasts. She wanted no impediments to the warrior’s touch. The gown itself was of poor quality and she did not mind if it got ripped. In Aeolus’ saddlebags, there was a blouse and pair of breeches for later use.

Along with that wondrous portion of the warrior’s anatomy she could not stop thinking about.

“You are turning into a slut, Kynthia,” she mumbled to herself.

The neighing of a horse drew her attention and she squinted in that direction. Sniffing the air, her keen sense of smell caught Leksi Helios’ scent and her womb quickened. When the warrior came into view, she felt giddy with lust.

He was out of the saddle and running toward her, his strong arms opened wide. She flew to him, jumping into his arms, her legs wrapped around his waist and as their mouths locked upon one another, he swung her around and around.

The kiss was deep, their tongues dueling. Her breasts were pressed tightly to his hard chest and she could feel his stony erection pressing against her belly. He staggered a bit when he stopped spinning them around then dropped to his knees with a grunt muffled by her mouth.

His momentum carried her to her back and he was fumbling at the skirt to her gown, shoving it aside so he could get his hand between them. The moment his palm touched the core of her, Kynthia came, her vaginal muscles tightening in quick little spasms that made her squeal with delight. She tore her mouth free of his and squealed again—a high-pitched tone of pure satiation.

“It would seem you missed me, wench,” he teased.

She made no reply but released his hips from her tight embrace and twisted her body, flipping over so their positions were reversed. She was above him, sitting upon his thighs, the skirt of her gown bunched around her own.

“That’s twice you have pleasured me, warrior, and I’ve yet to return the favor,” she said in a husky voice.

Leksi started to speak but her hands were on the clasp of his breeches, her fingers flying through the buttons. He gulped as she slipped her hand inside the fly and drew out his cock. The warmth of her hand was so intense he sighed with the sheer pleasure of it.

She stroked that long, erect tool and ran her fingertip over the slit in the tip, allowing her fingernail to delve gently inside.

“Wench!” Leksi gasped.

“Lay still, warrior and let me be about my business,” she said.

She leaned down and blew her hot breath across the head. It was all Leksi could do not to grab her, but he laid immobile, his blood beginning to quicken and his body trembling slightly.

Trying to remember all her aunt had imparted to her during their ride back from the Amazeen keep, Kynthia lightly gripped his weapon with one hand while she stroked its length with her other. She paid close attention to the underside of the head.

“Kynthia, I am—”

“Hush!” she ordered, and with one lithe movement was on her knees at his feet, tugging off his boots.

Leksi raised his head and watched as she drew off first one boot then the other, stripped him of his stockings then returned to his breeches. With a wicked gleam in her eyes, she tugged at the waistband and began drawing the breeches off, aided by the warrior lifting his hips to accommodate her.

Next, she made quick work of his shirt, ripping the buttons apart. He laughed and when she spread his arms up above his head, accommodated her further by spreading his legs. What she did next made him draw in a quick, shocked breath.

She turned so that her backside was to him and used her feet to anchor his wrists to the ground. Firmly gripping his thighs to keep them spread, she lowered her head and took his erect member into her mouth.

“Wench!” he warned, sucking in another stunned breath.

Kynthia smiled as she withdrew her intimate embrace and giggled when she heard his groan of frustration. Once more, she gripped his penis, bent her head and, pushing his penis down, licked him slowly from just above his anus all the way across his balls and then to the tip of his cock. As she felt him stiffen beneath her, she reached up with one hand, spread apart the slit in his penis with her fingers, and then used the tip of her tongue to flick mercilessly at the head.

“Shit!” Leksi warned, bucking beneath her.

Before he could come, she took him into her mouth and drew hard on that straining shaft, her lips pressed tightly. With a heavy grunt, he came, his hands clawing at her ankles. One long shudder gripped him, he bellowed his release, and then he lay limp beneath her, his head tilted to one side.

Her aunt had told Kynthia she might not like the taste of a man’s love juice or the feel of it in her mouth but that it was a natural way to pleasure your lover. To Kynthia, the taste wasn’t all that bad so she swallowed it.

“Wench?” he questioned.

She turned around, wiping her lips with the heel of her palm. “Aye, warrior?” she returned.

“The next time, I will be atop you and inside you,” he said softly.

“Well, I should hope so,” she said, stretching out beside him.

He took her into his arms and nuzzled his face against her neck. She smelled faintly of lemons and he drew in a deep breath, enjoying the scent.

She twirled a strand of his chest hair around her finger then ran her hand over the crisp wiriness of that broad expanse. She liked the feel of his hard muscles and the ridges of his hard paps. Using her palm, she massaged those manly nipples and idly plucked at them with her fingertips.

“If you keep that up, a situation might arise, wench,” he warned.

“Like I said—I hope so,” she told him.

Smoothing her hand down his flat belly, her palm gliding over ridges of striated muscle, she slid her fingers into the wiry curls at the juncture of his thighs, plucking at them lightly.

“Did your aunt give you a lesson or two since last we met?” he asked.

“I believe something was mentioned,” she replied.

“That woman is a veritable font of knowledge,” he said with a grin. “Her Ocnus taught her well.”

Kynthia craned her head and looked up at him. “What makes you think it was Ocnus who taught her and not the other way around?” she teased.

Leksi smiled and closed his eyes, enjoying the lassitude that was settling over him. His free hand was traveling up and down her bare arm and he marveled at how soft her skin was.

“I should discuss a bit of business with you,” she said, sensing he was on the verge of falling asleep.

“I would rather not,” he said.

“Nevertheless, it is important.”

The warrior sighed. “All right, wench. What?”

“The Council of Elders has agreed to help you with the problem but there is a catch.”

Leksi opened his eyes. “What kind of catch?” he asked, frowning.

“They wish for you and Lord Krull to come to them and put your petition before the assemblage.” When he tensed and a low growl came from him, she pushed herself up on one elbow. “Your safety has been guaranteed and it is simply a matter of courtesy that they wish you to journey to Amazeen.”

“Courtesy,” he repeated.

“Aye. There is much admiration of you and Lord Krull in Amazeen, but this is a request you should not dismiss.”

Leksi looked her in the eye. “I will have to run it by Lord Krull. He has no great love of the warrioresses.”

“No, but he did help them during both the famine and the drought.”

“Aye, so they owe him.”

Kynthia sighed. “And will repay him. It is strictly a matter of courtesy on his part.” She began toying with his shaft.

Leksi sighed. “All right. I’ll add my recommendation that we go to Amazeen.”

“Good,” she said, and began paying closer attention to his burgeoning member.

The warrior drew in a long, deep breath and as her fingers slid down his length, felt the stirrings of passion once more. He lay there until her delicate ministrations had him hard as a rock then very gently turned her to her back.

“I will repay you in kind for earlier, milady, but for now, I will claim you as mine once and for all,” he said, looking down into her eyes.

Very gently and slowly, he sat up and held his hand out to her. When she was up, he reached out with trembling fingers and unbuttoned her bodice, helping her out of it, careful not to touch the glorious breasts that taunted him. With her help, he eased the gown from her long legs and drew in a ragged breath as the scent of her filled his nostrils. He knelt there for a moment, taking in her beauty, deliberately avoiding looking at her crotch for just the thought of those wiry curls made his mouth water and his palms itch to caress them.