The Warlord's Concubine (16 page)

Svella returned to Mirella the next morning, “The job is
done, sister.” She sounded so proud, the woman already looking
more like the battle-hardened warrior she was before conceiving the
God-King’s child. “The noble leaders were wiped out,”
she declared with a slam of her fist on the table. “Damn it
feels good to be back in action!” Mirella knew just how much it
had troubled her that the giant of a woman had missed so much of the
fight already.

She laughed, and for the first time in many days, she truly felt
it reverberate through her. “I’m sure there will be more
before he returns. Has there been any news?” she asked, that
hope creeping into her voice. “What of the Seer?”

She wanted to ask what was her price. What had she paid for this?
She resisted, though.

At that query the mighty Svella lost her spirit. “No further
news, though the violence seems to be dying down now,” she
explained. “And no, the Seer has not moved of her own accord
since, I’m afraid.” It troubled her, for the Seer was a
unifying force for the Raven Guard.

~~

The rebellion was quelled and the city returned to some form of
peace following Mirella’s trap. However time dragged. She grew
more and more swollen with her impending birth, and no news had
arrived.

She’d spoken to the princess, told her the prince was
reported dead though she had no actual word of what happened on the
other side of the mountains. It confirmed it for her though, for the
princess broke down into tears and sobbed about how she hadn’t
heard from him since the week the attack should’ve happened.

So Kulav had succeeded on the field of battle. Just as she knew in
her heart and as the Seer had said.

It had been useless talking to the delicate princess after that.
She was a wreck, and would, with any luck, be ready for the
God-King’s return.

It was as Mirella relaxed one day, the weight of her pregnancy
exhausting her, that the excited Nimala burst in on her talking with
Svella. “He’s coming!” She cried. “The
God-King is returning from the west reaches of the mountains!”

“What?” she gasped, trying to stand far faster than
her body would allow, sending her off balance for a moment, “When
will he be here?” she asked, and already she was moving as if
she could see him. Her heart fluttered, and excitement buzzed under
her flesh.

They emerged out into the cool morning air, Nimala talking
excitedly, “The outriders reported seeing his banners just
hours behind them!” She said, a great smile on her face. “He’s
coming back to us,” she murmured in a dreamy voice, and Mirella
realized then this sister hadn’t had her opportunity to meet
him before he went on his expedition.

Mirella smiled, as if her life had
suddenly brightened. Become worth living once more, and she reached
out to stroke Nimala’s hand. “As we knew he would,
sister.” Her hand ran over her stomach, reassuring the child
that stirred within.

When the God-King’s forces returned at last, after being
gone for months, the whole of the remaining guard were out in force
in their full battle regalia. Horns sounded that echoed off the
mountains and his banners fluttered from almost every building top.
It was as glorious a return for the conqueror as she could muster,
and she watched from the palace walls as his horse and following
riders wound up through the city towards him.

When at last he led the way into the palace courtyard he looked as
glorious as she remembered him. His armour seemed nicked and more
worn, but he looked as stunning as ever. Those great raven plumes
swaying in the air as he rode directly to her with confidence. She
saw that grin on his face even before he slipped his helm free. He
was back. Back for her.

Her movement was slower, her body nearly ready to burst with the
heavy weight of his child, but that smile she gave him was nothing
but radiant. Her love shone through, and that space she’d
tucked aside, that deep loneliness was edged away.

As she moved through the palace walls, down and towards the
courtyard, her heart swelled, and when at last her hands grazed him,
her throat constricted. “Your Greatness,” she breathed
out.

The mighty warlord put an arm around her pregnant form and with
great strength and care scooped her up against him, kissing her
before all the assembled soldiers. It was a deep and passionate
embrace, and she knew that her longing hadn’t been one-sided. A
well of intense desire was bubbling forth from him as that dark man
kissed her deeply and stole her breath.

When at last he broke their embrace he gave her a grin, slipping
his dark gaze down over her swollen belly with intense pleasure. “Go.
Run me a bath,” he commanded. “Bring a tray of fresh
meats and a scrub brush, you shall tell me everything.”

Even though he’d made her swoon, she found a great pleasure
in doing his bidding. Her almond shaped eyes gazed at him for only a
moment before her feet found the ground and she was moving back
through the castle. Excitement carried her and made her feel lighter
on her feet, despite her advanced pregnancy, and she could already
feel that familiar heat between her legs.

He was home.

The tub which she set for him was formerly that of the royal
family. It was heated from some vein of molten rock within the
mountain itself, and the massive pool—for it was far too large
to be a tub—was fit for a God. He reclined in the steamy water,
his gorgeous physique, so brimming with hard muscle etched in
perfect, detailed lines, standing out so prominently to her as she
sat on the edge, scrubbing over his shoulder.

“You have done well,” he said in a husky groan,
enjoying her touch, his long dark hair draped down his back as he
rested an arm up around her. “You took control of a chaotic
situation and kept the city under control. I don’t know if the
Raven Guard could have managed that without you,” he said with
a light, placid smile.

“I couldn’t allow you to come home to disarray, Your
Greatness. Not after all the work you’d done,” her nose
nuzzled him, that lovely olive skin brushing against his ebon flesh.
“You deserve a bit of peace and relaxation after the battle.
The Princess is aware of the Prince’s demise. I pray she is in
a more malleable mood with the loss of her forces.”

All she wore was the scandalous mix of silver chains and transparent fabric. He scooped her up, taking control of
her with such ease as he pulled her into the steaming water with him.
He let it soak her meagre things as she was pressed to his lap,
feeling that godlike manhood against her as he kissed her hard. “You
have served me well,” he said, brushing her dark hair from her
face and eying her with such desire and appreciation. “You were
faithful when you could have turned against me and perhaps shifted
the tide.”

It hadn’t even occurred to her, and her mouth found his
throat, her body so eager against him. She was his, body, mind, and
soul, and her arms wrapped around him, that pregnant orb pressing
into his hard abs. “I mean every word I say to you, Your
Greatness. You are the reason I exist. You are the tide, the spring
rain. The one all should worship,” her mouth ran along his jaw.
“We will have crops this year, and it is because of your
graciousness. I offered them a stay of execution, but you are the
reason they will live. Our lives, our future. We entrust these things
to you. It’s only fair we mind them when you’re gone.”

It wasn’t the way of the Ka’reem to offer mercy or
forgiveness. They knew nothing of farming, only hunting and tending
animals. But he did not question her decisions while he was away,
only offered his quiet acceptance.

And his throbbing desire.

Squeezing her in his powerful arms, those hard muscles jabbing
into her all around, he was careful of the life in her womb, suckling
her lip as he probed her mouth with his tongue. A hand came to one of
her large breasts, squeezing the full mound, so tender with its milk.

There was such need in him, and he lifted her, rising up onto his
knees in the steamy pool, turning her away from him and placing her
hands on the edge of the stonework so that she bent forward. Feeling
his dark hands run up her arms and over her full form was such bliss,
and he felt out every inch of her, as if rediscovering her at last.

She didn’t quiet those moans, the sighs of pleasure and joy
at his battle hardened hands, her body quivering against him. She
wanted this, and had spent the long months of his absence craving
him. Needing him.

Never had it occurred to her to bed with someone else, nor even to
pleasure herself in the dark of night. It wouldn’t be the same,
and how wet she was, even as the water tried to lap it away, attested
to her built up desire.

“Your Greatness,” she whimpered. “I missed you.”

One of his fingers hooked into her flimsy undergarment, pulling it
aside to reveal her puffy, darkened folds. She felt one of his arms
hook up in under her chest, his hand palming one of her large tits,
squeezing as she felt that bulging thickness press to her.

So sweet were his dark, gravely words in her ear, “I thought
of you often when need shook me,” and she knew it was true. He
was above false compliments; he didn’t need such things with
her.

Pushing into her she felt that massive cock, so far beyond any
other man’s, pry her folds open again. Though he had never been
able to fit his full length inside her, even less fit now as her full
womb pushed down, yet it didn’t keep him from moaning with his
own satisfaction at that tight cling.

She’d been so faithful to him, and yet she was surprised by
how much it enhanced the experience. She almost felt like a virgin
once more, untouched and innocent, even as she swelled with his
child. Her moan was one beyond any other sweetness, beyond pain or
simplistic, animalistic pleasure. It was love and devotion, bliss
beyond understanding, and her hands gripped the edge of the bath.

“Every night, you were the first thing I dreamed of. Every
morning, you were the first thing I saw. I knew you would make it
home before your child was born,” she said.

It was wrong in the eyes of her sisters to spill the God-King’s
seed fruitlessly in an already pregnant womb, but it didn’t
stop either of them from doing so and enjoying it. His hand grasped
her teat, squeezing so delightfully, the other moving down over her
generous hip and ass as he began to pump his godlike length into her.

He was so gentle for a man of his size and with his need, careful
of the life within her, but still that throbbing dick beat into her
with a fast increasing pace. His husky voice such a delight on her
ear as it groaned each word out, “None of the young ones can
hold a candle to your devoted lust. To your beautiful form,” he
bit her neck then, inhaling deeply through his nose as he stifled his
moans on her flesh.

She whimpered with her need, and his words made her cunny tighten
around him, those muscles massaging him so lovingly. She swallowed
against his mouth, against the feel of that warm, heated breath over
her olive flesh, and she knew she was in heaven.

She’d been waiting so long for just this, to be his once
more, and it felt so right to have his body pressed against hers so
tightly. Mirella fought back an overwhelming urge to cry his name, to
tell him all she’d done, all she wanted to do just to have him
back. Of the fear when the mountain collapsed, of that sense of
failure and worry, but she didn’t.

All she did was cry out his name, his true name, in a husky, lust
ridden voice, following it up with “Your Greatness.” The
words—his name, his title—were one in the same. He was
born of a woman, but that didn’t lessen who he was. What he
was.

He came in her then, clenching her tit and bucking his hips.
Kulav, the God-King, spilled his seed within her fruitlessly, but so
satisfyingly. His pleasure was thick on the air, and she knew she
brought him such joy. More even than the pristine young virgins he
took, her mature form, so ripe with his child, milked him of his
essence and made him shake with satisfaction.

It didn’t stop though, his long
absence drove him on and he pumped his shaft into her without pause.
She knew it wouldn’t end then, or soon. He had to have her
again. Again.

The God-King’s return went fluidly. He never showed the
slightest displeasure with her choices while gone, did not
countermand a single one of them. He went about revitalizing his
forces and getting the city into shape.

“From the north we’ll bring in our remaining herds,”
he explained to the chieftains gathered around his command table,
pointing to a map. “We need the extra meat and cheese to help
feed the citizens as best we can.”

Mirella was kept with him at nearly all times now. Nothing was
kept from her, she’d proven her worth. Though as he spoke she
felt it happen. Her water broke and pregnancy was upon her at last.

She thought back, for that brief, surprised second, and what she’d
said to Svella those weeks ago.

Finally.

Her grin broadened and she felt no
shame for being in such a delicate position near such powerful men.
Instead she touched her God’s arm, and as he turned to her,
giving her his attention immediately, he seemed to understand
everything with just the look on her face.

The pregnancy had been hard. If ever she doubted Svella’s
hard time—which of course she hadn’t—that was put
to rest when she birthed yet another son for her God and King.

Kulav had kept near her much of the time in the week following her
birth, and she saw the light glimmer of pride in her and his new son
as she cradled the boy. He kissed her head and looked to the child
against her bosom, so dark. His skin, though so fresh and new, nearly
matched that of his fathers. He was far more like Kulav than Svella’s
child had been, that woman’s pale northern skin having diluted
his tone.