Selected for Sport Ch. 14

A muffled shriek, and she surged under him, body rocking into uncontrolled spasms. Xanir roared when her throat convulsed around his buried cock. Then his hands were clamped in her hair, yanking her mouth to meet his driving thrusts while the fire in him rocketed out of control. A second, hoarse sound of triumph and he clamped her nose against his balls, heaving breaths through almost shut eyes while he watched the ripples of her throat taking his seed.

She was gasping and crying when he pulled out. He cradled her close, stripping off the wet cloth before rolling her back onto the love seat, wrapping all his limbs tight around her, cuddling her. His breath returned before hers, and his voice was low while he fed her sips of juice to slow her breathing. "Little meyla, that was amazing." He stroked the colour which rose in her cheeks and whispered further words of praise. "I know that was difficult for you," he finished. "Your throat will be sore and neck is bruised --."

"I loved it," the soft voice whispered. She twisted abruptly on top of him, scarlet cheeks pressed into his chest, and gasped at her own admission before letting out a shuddering sigh. Xanir was smiling a twisted smile up at the canopy of wisteria. The small, muffled voice added, "You let me come this time."

He stroked her back soothingly. "I was not punishing you this time."

The head cocked, and a bright blue eye peered up at him. "I thought an apology would be the same?"

"No," Xanir shook his head, smiling up at the bright blue heavens. "I was delighted to receive your capitulation: it allowed me to put my plan into action."

She pouted. "Couldn't you have just told me?"

His face went expressionless, and he looked back at her. "I will tell you some things."

The Great Tahl. Alanna rested on his chest, questions rushing back. "Like what I won't like about aiding my husband?"

Xanir sighed, fingers tracing the bruises rising on her throat. "It is good that I lost control somewhat," he murmured, seemingly inconsequentially. "These will be visible to all."

Alanna's pulse hammered and she bent her head to hide her smile against his skin. She made him lose control.

A finger tucked a strand of her hair behind one ear. "Somewhat, I said," he repeated dryly. She kissed the skin under her. A finger tilted her head back up, and she rested her chin on her fists, looking up at him.

"This must be all they see," Xanir stated carefully. "The signs of my lust, and your submission to it. Nothing else."

She opened her mouth. His eyes scorched her, and she remained silent.

"There must never be a hint that I like you, that I even talk to you. Outside of my private chambers, you are merely a toy."

Alanna closed her mouth, and her eyes, feeling ridiculous tears rising. He liked her. A finger stroked her cheek. She was still a toy. His voice gentled.

"I told you, they see you as inconsequential. And so they hide less, and you learn things: who speaks with whom, who turns up in unlikely places. I will summon you to be bedded by me in every room in the palace; you will go everywhere, see everyone. You will find out for me who that woman is."

Bedded in every room. Alanna eyes opened on the strong throat, praying that he hadn't felt the excitement that had rippled through her at that phrase. Their eyes met. A smile was playing at his mouth. Alanna dropped her head and hid her blush against him again, feeling the chuckle rumble underneath her when he stroked her hair.

"Doesn't sound too bad," she mumbled.

His fingers were massaging circles on her scalp. "Every room, I said." The voice had taken on the implacable tone again, the voice of the ruler. "That includes the mosaic gallery."

Her head shot up. The orgy room? Her voice trembled, rising: "You said you wouldn't -." Fingers pressed against her lips, stopping her protest, and he stared her into silence with that autocratic glare.

"You may trust my word. I will have you brought there, but will take you privately. They may hear, but they will not see."

"It's the sounds in my nightmares!" she hissed, jerking away to sit bolt upright, wrapping her arms around her folded knees. Xanir followed her, lifting her chin to look deep into her eyes. His brow wrinkled, face darkening slightly when finally he allowed her to jerk herself out of his grasp.

"Very well," the gravelly voice promised. "I will not summon you there. Unless the woman proves elusive: I must know who she is. But most likely you will meet her in some other part of the palace."

Alanna glared at him through tear-bright eyes.

His finger stroked down her cheek. "The first offer also still holds: always."

Her brows lifted. She didn't trust her voice.

"Would you prefer me to leave you alone entirely?"

They stared at each other. Alanna shivered. She thought of the lonely, sleepless weeks before this morning. Suddenly she wondered how long she had slept today: how long he had let her sleep, at his side. She stared into those black eyes. Implacable was the word. Her taut frame drooped and she shook her head, wordlessly. Xanir gathered her back in his arms and kissed her softly.

"Good girl. You will not speak of this to anyone."

She shook her head again, clinging close, whispering, "No-one," hoarsely.

That strong palm suddenly closed threateningly around her bruised throat and lifted her. Dangling half on her knees, her eyes flew up to his stony face just as footfalls sounded on the ground below them.

"My Tahl, the stonemasons are here, with Lord Truk," one of his guards announced.

A snick of his dagger, and the two blue beads Xanir had plaited into her hair only weeks ago fell among the cushions. Tears started in her eyes while he tossed her away to land with them. A startled, unhappy thought flew across her mind: didn't he even trust his guards?

"Limaq!" shouted the Tahl, washing himself clean in the fountain. More footfalls, although Alanna didn't turn to see, she had suddenly remembered her nudity and was trying to burrow under the scattered furnishings, pulse trembling.

Was he really only acting? If he was, he was damn good at it. And it hurt.

The Great Tahl's voice was receding while he strode away, but she could hear the embarrassing instruction he was firing at her bodyguard. "Return this girl to her rooms and see that Bethesda increases her dancing and stretching. But no more deep throat practice: I am not yet satisfied that she has fully learned her lesson. Keep it tight."

Alanna buried her face in a cushion to hide the flush: excitement or anger?