The Battle Lord's Lady (24 page)

Chapter Twenty-Four

Guilt

Atty awoke at daybreak to find the other side
of the bed hadn’t been slept in. Walking over to the big window
overlooking the main courtyard, she saw several mounds of timber
being built just outside the walls of the compound. Before the day
was over there would be sixteen funeral pyres lit, and sixteen
souls put to rest.

Souls whose deaths she was responsible
for.

A rap at the door drew her away from the
grisly sight. In the hallway Berta stood with another tray, this
time her breakfast. As the servant woman replaced the tray from the
night before with the new one, Atty couldn’t help but notice the
way the woman remained wary, as if expecting to be attacked at any
moment.

“Thank you, Berta,” she thanked the woman
softly as the servant prepared to leave.

Berta paused, a surprised expression on her
face. “You’re we—” she started to automatically reply, then caught
herself.

Atty kept her eyes down. It was clear the
woman hadn’t expected to be thanked, especially from a Mutah, and
the enemy. A long moment passed between them, when she heard the
servant clear her throat. “Will you be needing anything else?”

Atty looked up at her. The woman was doing
her duty as ordered, most likely from Yulen, although it was clear
the servant was torn between her revulsion for having to serve the
blue-haired woman and her insatiable curiosity.

“Can you tell me where the Battle Lord is?”
Atty asked in what she hoped was a non-threatening voice. She knew
she would have to be very careful about what she said and how she
said it, and pray nothing she said would be taken the wrong
way.

“Out overseeing the funerals,” Berta replied
curtly. “If you look out the window, you can see them for
yourself.”

“I have,” Atty nodded. “What I meant to ask
was... Never mind. Thank you again for the tray.”

The servant gave her a barely perceptible nod
of her head. “The Battle Lord has requested a tray be sent to you
again at midday,” she informed her, then quickly left. Atty closed
the door behind her.

Strangely, she found herself to be
quite hungry. A quick examination of the tray revealed an array of
foods that astonished her. Most of the grains and fruits were
difficult, if not impossible, to come by in Wallis, and as such
were considered delicacies to her people. The peaches in particular
were something Atty had only heard about but had never tasted
before. Biting into the velvet skin, she closed her eyes against
the sweet juice running down her chin. She was so intent on the
incredible flavor filling her mouth, she never heard the nearly
silent
snick
of the door
opening behind her. A second later she whirled around as a hand
brushed back a wave of her hair that cascaded down her back. Hand
met metal, and the lid that Atty had instinctively used as a shield
as she’d turned around was knocked from her hand, sailing across
the room and ricocheting off the upper corner of the
bureau.

Yulen gave her a weary smile. “At least it’s
nice to know I’m not so dead on my feet that I can’t still defend
myself. How are you doing this morning?”

Atty stared at him intently, aware of his
appearance and the fact that his sadness was like an dark aura
around him. “You look like crap,” she replied softly, letting him
know she empathized with him.

“Fine, comforting words coming from you, when
you’ve had a few hours of sleep.” Although his words were scathing,
his tone was anything but. Yulen reached out with a finger and ran
it over a trail of juice covering her chin. He stuck the finger in
his mouth and smiled. “Peaches?”

“I’ve never had one before,” she told him.
Before she could say another word, he had pulled her into his arms.
His mouth descended over hers. Atty shivered as his tongue tasted
her lips and started a path of fire over her chin and down her
neck, following the sweetness with his hot breath.

Her own breath quickened as she melted
against his hard body, unable to resist the ache inside her that
was quickly becoming more intense. She could hear him moan as he
tried to devour her, tried to lose himself in her and in her
body.

Atty ceased struggling and wrapped her arms
around his neck. She knew that a part of him was seeking surcease
from what was one of the most difficult burdens a Battle Lord had
to bear—the cremation of one of his soldiers. Except, this time,
there were sixteen today he had to send to the flames.

She said nothing as his hands grew rougher,
and his tongue and mouth grew hotter. He had shifted her over into
one arm, holding her tightly so he could lift her under her knees,
and press her closer to him with the other. Closing her eyes, Atty
let his overwhelming need seize her. She was drowning in his
desire, fighting her own raw lust that engulfed her in blankets of
heat. She prayed for him not to stop.

She felt him rip open the shirt she’d put on
the night before, one of his shirts she’d found in the second
bureau drawer, the white shirt she’d used as a nightgown to help
keep her warm until he returned. The white shirt he now shredded
from her body so he could devour her breasts. His tongue sucked and
licked, until she wanted him to place all of her in his mouth and
consume her. Her nipples were like puckered berries, ripe and
tantalizing. When his teeth closed over them, she lifted her hips
and cried out as little knives of desire sliced into her woman’s
core.

Her breath caught in her throat as his free
arm lifted her almost perpendicular to him, allowing him
unrestricted access to her exposed body. She was unable to help
herself from arching her back. His mouth on her bare skin was an
experience she’d prayed she would experience after their night in
Foster City, and she found herself lost in the storm that was
flooding her senses with indescribable need. This was nothing like
the other night. Nothing.

He tasted her belly, tonguing the
goosefleshed expanse of warmth and softness before finding and
assaulting the small, dimpled navel. It wasn’t until he reached the
fragrant valley of indigo curls that he finally lifted his face and
shuddered.

“Oh, God, Atrilan...”

She whimpered, melting under his
ministrations as he parted her thighs with his tongue, his arms
holding her body to where she couldn’t move, couldn’t escape,
couldn’t do anything but let him take total possession of her. He
raised her hips and dove for her clit, taking the stiff nub between
his teeth and tongue, and teasing them until she could feel herself
rising on that same storm cloud of emotions she’d felt last
night.

Then, to her utter shock, he suddenly
released her, dropping her to her feet before he strode over to the
window, placed his hands on the sill, and lowered his head as he
breathed in huge gulps of fresh air.

There was a hesitant knock on the door. Atty
then understood why he’d released her. Gathering the remnants of
her shirt about her, she went over to the bed and sat at the head,
tucking one foot beneath her. Her nerves were still on fire. Her
thighs were wet, and her skin tingled were his mouth had left a
burning trail. Her heart was beating so fast she was nearly
light-headed.

The knock came again.

“Come,” Yulen ordered in a tight voice,
keeping his stance at the window.

It was Berta with another small army of
servants bearing more buckets on poles. Atty watched as they
trooped into the bathroom to refill the huge brass tub with warm
water. Before they had a chance to leave, Yulen tore off his
stained tunic, tossing it onto the floor, and quickly went into the
bathroom. As she exited the room, the servant woman picked up the
shirt as Atty assumed she had countless times in the past.

When the woman caught sight of her over on
the bed, Atty gave her a small smile. “Thank you,” she told the
servant again. This time, Berta nodded in response before shooing
the rest of the staff out of the room, closing the door behind her
as she also left.

Atty hurried to the bathroom, pausing at the
door. Yulen was in the tub. His pants were thrown onto the floor
nearby, and his weapons belt hung from the back of the chair by the
window. She watched as he submerged himself under the water,
staying there for several seconds before coming back up for air.
Smoothing his hair over his scalp, he blinked water from his eyes
to see her watching him from the other side of the room.

“This tub can hold two,” he commented.

“I know.”

“Come join me.”

“I had my bath last night,” she told him,
feeling the sensations he’d initiated deep within her slowly
heating back up and tightening in her belly.

“Join me, Atrilan. I want you.”

She tried to breathe, but her throat had
closed up. Biting her lower lip to hold back the tears that wanted
to fill her eyes, she shook her head. “You don’t want me,” she
finally managed to whisper. “You want a mistress.”

Her mouth dropped open as Yulen rose from the
tub, stepped out of it, and walked over to her. Water sluiced down
his naked body, and she was unable to stop her eyes from taking in
his hard, muscular arms and chest, his flat stomach, and his
quickly swelling erection. It jutted outward, a thick, muscular
pole.

Spit stuck in her throat and her eyes
widened, unable to tear her gaze from his length. She took a step
back as he advanced, unknowingly pinning herself against the door.
Yulen slammed both hands to the wood, caging her with his body, and
looked down at her with his nose mere inches away from hers.
Despite the iciness in his eyes, there was a hint of sadness in his
voice.

“I am risking everything to have you. I
am risking it all so that one day you can walk among my people with
your head held high. So that you and I can declare ourselves as
husband and wife. But until the day you take your vows with me, and
that time
will
come, Atrilan,
I promise you, let me have the liberty of you. I want your kisses.
I want your body. I’m wanting
you
. Not a mistress. You. Now.”

He turned and strode back into the tub,
easing himself down again as his aching muscles protested against
the hot water. Glancing back up at her, he waited to see what she
would say. What she would do.

There was no way her heart could deny
him.

Throwing off the torn shirt, she hurried over
and stepped into the tub. The shock of hot water couldn’t stop her
from throwing herself into his arms, or from pressing herself
against his strong, lean body. As she met the ferocity of his
kisses with her own, she was dimly aware of his hands spreading her
legs across his lap, to straddle him where he sat beneath her.
Unconsciously she rose up on her knees, sliding her body along his,
as the terrible ache below her belly traveled downward and grew
hotter than the water surrounding them.

His mouth found her neck once more. His hands
cupped her breasts, teasing them with calloused thumbs until she
moaned from the sensations overwhelming her.

“
Yul!
”

His hands grabbed her hips and started to
lower her slowly over himself. As his erection began to penetrate
her, Yulen again felt the subtle resistance of her virginity. He
paused, taking a shaky breath that turned into a deep groan. Hands
trembling, he shook his head and lifted her.

“No...
no
...”

“Please!” she sobbed softly in his ear. Her
own hands reached down to touch him, to grasp him, to guide him
back to where he could open her final portal. In her hands he was
thicker than a pole, but covered in the softest skin.

“No!” He shifted, grasping her hands that
still held him, and moving them to where he could safely rest
within her without penetration.

Atty trembled in his arms. She cried softly,
begging him. Wanting him. Knowing that it no longer made any
difference to her because at this moment she needed him more than
he was needing her. She had to have him inside her to erase this
burning, debilitating clenching in her womb. Yulen held her
tightly, drawing up his knees beneath her so that there was no
danger of him accidentally breaking her.

“No,” he whispered again through his own
tears. “I am honoring your terms with my own, Atrilan. On the day
you take your vows with me, I’ll take your virginity, and then
there will be no stopping my making love to you all day, every day,
and all night, if we so desire.”

“
Yul...
”

“Those are
my
terms, my beloved,” he murmured in her ear. In
the water her wet hair was a curtain of silk strands that tickled
and caressed their skin as it flowed back and forth between their
bodies.

“That’s blackmail,” she gasped. Her hands
were still trapped between their thighs. Teasingly, provocatively,
she squeezed his steel-like length with her fingers. It took both
hands to hold him. He reacted as every muscle in his body
stiffened.

“Atrilan, I have enough guilt on my
conscience right now. If you lose your ability when I take you
completely, I want us to have no regrets. I never want you to look
back on that moment with despair.” Pulling her back gently, he
gazed into her eyes. “I love you.”

“Then show me,” she begged throatily. “Show
me.”

Reaching between them, Yulen took her hands
away from where they held him, and slid down further into the tub
until the water covered his shoulders and she was resting almost on
top of him. Carefully, he took himself in one hand and began to rub
within her, finding that part of her that responded without
penetration. Atty gasped; her body convulsed as he used the head of
his penis to masturbate her, provoking and coaxing her orgasm.