Knight of a Trillion Stars (25 page)

Grabbing a pillow, he placed it under her hips, slightly raising her. She felt the pressing heat of his body as he covered her with himself.
She was under siege.

“You can’t do this, Lorgin!”

“I
am
doing it.”

“You have no right—”

“I have every right.”

“No!”

“You will stop this ridiculous talk of returning to your world. Understand this, Adeeann
zira’al
Lorgin,
you belong to me.
”

Unclasping her hands, he spread her arms beside her, placing his broad palms over the backs of her hands; he interlaced his fingers with hers, literally pinning her to the bed. He purposefully nudged her legs apart with his knee and ever so slowly entered her from behind.

His thick shaft filled her slick, wet canal, pulsing inside
of her. Deana choked on a sob at the sheer pleasure of it. This was sexual domination; Lorgin was completely and irrevocably staking his claim.
And it was to die for.

“Say you belong to me, Adeeann. Say it…” His hot, breathy whisper was right behind her left ear.

“No, I won’t!”

He flexed and surged inside of her, the firm muscles of his thighs bracing her.

“Oh my God,
Lorgin
…that feels incredible.”

His response was to kiss the back of her neck, rubbing his face in her fragrant hair.

“Say you are mine, sweet Fire; you know in your heart you are.”

“Don’t you dare mention hearts to me when you’re doing this out of some crazy fantasy you have!”

He smiled shamelessly against her skin. “I admit it is somewhat of a fantasy. I vow I have never had to take a woman thus.”

It was the wrong thing for him to say, for it conjured up images of him in her head—images of him in bed with scores of willing women.

“Stop this right now!” But there wasn’t a thing she could do to enforce her words and he knew it.

“Make me.”
He bit her sharply on her nape, and plunged deeper into her.

“I hate you!”

Her liquid honey increased around him, belying her words. He chuckled against the side of her neck. “No, you do not.”

“Just you wait, I’ll—”

“Shh…” He traced his sizzling tongue around her earlobe. “Stop talking and
listen,
Adeeann. Listen to this surging, flowing thing between us.” His actions mirrored his breathless words as his shaft glided against and into her.

“Listen to it pounding in our blood, our hearts.”
Strong
fingers entwined tightly with her own. She could feel the pulse of his blood rushing against her hands.

“Listen to the power in me awaken
for you.
” Without warning, he sent her a surge of incredible power inside where they joined.

“
Oh, God…Lorgin…
”

His breath grew ragged as he stroked into her again and again, still pinning her to the bed. Deana moaned with each thrust, catching his wildness, his sheer eroticism. His quickening.

“Can you hear it? Can you hear this savage warrior in me, coming to you?”

“Yes!” she gasped.

He released her hands, clutching her tight around the waist, bringing her even closer to him as he buried his head between her shoulderblades.

“Can you feel this powerful magic in my heart entwine around you?” he whispered against her.

She clutched the sheet beneath her, whimpering. “Yes, yes, yes…”

“
Now you taste of my passion, Adeeann.
”

Deana was senseless.

Lorgin had made love to her the entire night.

He was relentless.

He had been totally without mercy, extracting every word he wanted to hear out of her.

Yes, she would not mention returning to her world to him again.

Yes, she didn’t really want to leave.

Yes, she wanted him.

Yes. Yes. Yes.

He had confused her with his powerful lovemaking, his heart-stopping caresses, and his whispered entreaties:
Was she not his Little Fire, his
gharta
, who he placed above all others?
Yes.

Did she not crave him the same way he craved her?
Yes.

Did he not entrust her with his power to keep safe inside of her?
Yes! Yes! Yes!

Deana pulled the sheet over her head. She had caved like a house of cards on an active fault line.

Earlier this morning when he had taken her in his arms again, she all but whimpered. All she could think of was,
He’s going to start up again.
She must have made some sound, for all he did was kiss her on the forehead, saying, “Hush, Adeeann. I am just getting up. Go back to sleep.”

He had used sex against her.

Her brow furrowed. No, that wasn’t quite right—he had used sex
for
her.

Then he had used sex
with
her.

It was a very potent technique. By now, Deana knew that Lorgin was a man who had a multitude of techniques. Depending on the circumstances, he would draw on the one he thought most apt to accomplish his goal. She believed this trait had to do more with the man himself rather than any Charl training of his.

It really wasn’t sporting of him. She hadn’t had a lot of experience in the past and had no defenses against his expertise. All right, so even if she had been very experienced, she was honest enough to admit that she probably wouldn’t have been able to put up much of a cold front. He was just so overwhelming.

The man had stormed the citadel.

What was she going to do now?

Bringing up the subject of returning to Earth was totally out of the question. There was
no
subject, as far as Lorgin ta’al Krue was concerned. That left her with only one option. She would have to go with him to that wretched Aviara of his. But when they got there, she intended to seek help from Yaniff. She was almost sure the kindly old wizard would help her once she explained the situation to him.

She only prayed she wouldn’t be gobbled up in the streets by one of the monsters Lorgin had mentioned before she got the chance.

Deana was getting dressed when Lorgin returned to their chamber.

For some reason, after what they had shared last night, she felt terribly shy. He did not suffer from any such affliction as he came up to her, softly kissing her on the forehead.

“You must be hungry, Adeeann. It is well past the midday hour. Would you like to accompany me to the little
sacri
in the center of the keep? I am sure we can find something to eat there.”

“Okay,” she mumbled, not quite meeting his eyes.

“Come.” He took her hand and led her outside.

For Zarrain, the day was a pleasant one. The heat was at a bearable level; occasionally there was a faint puff of air which could almost be classified as a breeze.

Lorgin led her to a stall where he purchased some turnovers which resembled the ones they’d had on Ryka Twelve. Only these were a lot spicier. Deana wondered if the spice was masking the age of the meat. She eyed the pastry dubiously.

“It is fine, I assure you. Although perhaps not best on an empty stomach. Would you like something else?”

Deana scanned the stall. “How about some plain baked dough?” Close enough to a donut, she thought.

He handed her one of the brick-shaped loaves. “You do not care much for the food here.” His eyes traveled over her form. “You have lost some weight.”

She took a bite of the dough. It not only looked like a brick, it was as hard as one. “I’m not used to it.”

“I admit the choices must seem alien to you, but you must overcome such problems. You would not wish to appear provincial, would you?” He winked at her.

She laughed. “That is the least of my concerns, Lorgin.”

After they had finished eating, Lorgin led her through the alleyways of the keep into several tiny shops. They browsed a bit, looking at the items in companionable silence.

Deana glanced his way every now and then, when he wasn’t looking her way. His handsome profile. His beautiful eyes. His sensitive hands.
Those hands…

It was hard to believe that the regally contained man next to her had been an uncontrollable, erotically wild lover just a few short hours ago.

Her heart skipped a beat.

She was getting excited just thinking about how he had made love to her last night. Her gaze strayed to his lips—those smooth, silky hot lips—and she couldn’t help but think of where
they
had been just a few hours ago. She blushed, turning quickly to look at some merchandise lest he notice.

There was more variety in the shops than Deana would have thought, considering they were at the end of never. Lorgin told her the caravans had brought the items from all over Zarrain, as well as a few off-planet items. He motioned to the proprietor to bring a silky jewel-toned robe for his inspection.

“Do you like it?” He turned to her.

“It’s very pretty,” she replied without thinking.

“I agree.” He handed the shop owner several gems. “Send it up to the castle,” he told the little man.

“Lorgin, what are you doing?”

He ignored her question, turning back to the proprietor. “Let me see those caftans in the corner.”

The little man hesitated. “Those are pure krilli, sir. They are very costly.”

Lorgin motioned impatiently for him to do his bidding.

There were four caftans. Each was obviously hand-made and exquisitely embroidered. Deana had never seen or felt such beautiful cloth. It was softer than the softest silk. The color combinations of the threads were extraordinary, each dress displaying a tonal combination rather than a particular color.

Lorgin watched her face as she viewed the
krilli
caftans. He spoke to the man. “Send those as well.” Deana gasped, her eyes flying to him.

“All”—the man cleared his throat—“
all of them?
” They were outrageously expensive.

“No, Lorgin!” Deana knew what he was doing. It was his
response to her comment last night regarding her clothes. But she hadn’t meant for him to spend all this money on her; she had simply tried to make a point, which actually had nothing to do with clothes.

Lorgin looked down at her through half-veiled eyes as he spoke to the shop owner. “Yes, all of them.”

“Lorgin, it’s not necessary. You don’t have to do this.”

“I do have to do this, Adeeann. It was remiss of me to be so unthoughtful of your needs.”

“You’re being ridiculous; you’re the most thoughtful man I have ever met.” It was true. She recalled how he always was concerned over her comfort and well-being. He really was a very gallant man. And a very stubborn one once his mind was made up. He seemed to read her thoughts as she was about to voice another objection.

“It is done. Besides, I vow I look forward to seeing you in them, although you must promise me to wait until we reach Aviara before you wear them. There will still be the danger of slavers on the way back to the tunnel point.”

“Thanks for reminding me. I forgot all about the return journey through that awful desert.”

They left the shop, continuing with their walk.

“Perhaps it will not be so bad. Traed will be able to provide us with adequate escort. At least we will not have to fear being so outnumbered in an attack, should one occur.”

“Do you think Traed will be joining us?”

“I do not know. But…the time has come for me to confront him directly. I cannot afford to tarry here any longer. The situation with Theardar grows critical.”

“He doesn’t know his father is involved, does he?”

“No, and I wish it to remain thus. I will leave it to Yaniff to explain the situation to him. If I mention to Traed that Theardar is involved, there will be no chance of Traed agreeing to come back to Aviara with us.”

They walked on awhile in silence, holding hands. Deana
asked the question she had been wondering about for some time.

“Lorgin, did Theardar abuse Traed?”

“Abuse him?” Lorgin looked at her confused, not understanding her question. “He blamed Traed for his mother’s death.”

“Did he have anything to do with it?”

“No, he was just a babe at the time, newly born, when his mother died.”

Deana was surprised. “She died in childbirth?”

“Yes.”

“That doesn’t happen very often anymore on my world.”

He glanced her way. “Nor here,
zira.
There were…extenuating circumstances.”

“So Theardar blamed Traed for his mother’s death—wasn’t that rather irrational?”

“Yes. As you have heard, it is said Theardar is mad. As a boy, nothing Traed could do was ever right enough or good enough for him. My father, Krue, guided Traed when he could, trying to undo the damage that Theardar inflicted. The tragedy is that Traed was exceptional in so many ways, but Theardar was blind to his son.”

Deana swallowed, hesitant to ask, but knowing she had to. “Did Theardar beat him?”

Lorgin looked away. “He punished him severely,” was all he would say.

“How terribly sad.”

“His spirit is not broken. Traed has the seeds of honor and courage, and, I believe, great compassion in him. He has the makings of a Charl if he would but seek it.”

“But he won’t?”

“No. He will not do anything which even remotely follows in Theardar’s footsteps.” Lorgin exhaled resignedly. “Knowing what I know, I cannot blame him. He needs to find his own way.”

“How can he do that hiding away on this hideous world?”

“He cannot. The time has come for Traed to leave. Not just because of the quest, but for himself as well.” Lorgin gazed up at the sky. “I will just have to convince him of it.”

Deana smiled ironically, speaking quietly. “I shouldn’t worry too much, Lorgin. You have a certain talent for convincing.”

It was the only reference she had made to their previous night. His mouth turned up slightly at the corners as his gaze fell to her.

“Mmm.” He bent over to brush her lips with his own.

Traed did not join them for the evening meal, which was not a good sign. Lorgin didn’t comment on his absence, but Deana could tell that he was concerned. Rejar elected not to bring up the subject either. As if he sensed the tension in his brother, Rejar sought safer, more lighthearted topics.

{A man delivered many colorful caftans here today. Perhaps I will offer one to a pretty maid I have seen in the caravan.}

Lorgin raised an eyebrow. “No, you will not. They are gifts to my wife. If you wish to make such a generous offering to this maid, might I suggest you provide it?”

{You might, but it lacks my subtle touch.}

Lorgin snorted. “And what subtle touch is that, brother? I vow you do not have a subtle
bone
in your body when it comes to women.”

Rejar grinned.
{I did not mean that subtle touch; I meant having a maid give her favors to me because of a gift you paid for.}

Deana giggled, putting her hand to her mouth.

Lorgin looked at his brother, surprised. “You have allowed her to hear your less than honorable words?”

“Oh, Lorgin, lighten up. Rejar is just teasing you.”

Lorgin looked totally perplexed.
“Lighten up?”

Rejar and Deana both burst out laughing.

Lorgin sought out Traed after their meal. He found him in his study, sitting before the fire, staring into the flames. This time he did not hold the
phfiztger
in his arms. Unconsciously, his hands clutched the arms of the chair, mirroring the upsetting thoughts he was obviously having.

Lorgin entered the room without knocking, quietly closing the door behind him.

“I thought I would find you here, my friend.”

Traed did not respond, did not even look his way. Lorgin found another chair and pulled it up to the fire next to him.

“What troubles you so, Traed?”

For a long while Traed did not answer. When he did, his voice was very low. “You, of all people, must ask me this?”

Lorgin did not don the mask of pretense, even to spare Traed’s feelings. “You must put aside these thoughts for now. I tell you, Traed, you must return to Aviara with me.”

Traed looked up at the ceiling, then closed his eyes. “It is impossible. I cannot do this. Even for you, my friend.”

“It is not just for me; there are those who must depend upon you now.”

“I want no one depending upon me. That is why I came here. That is why I shall remain here.”

“Such choices are not always ours, Traed. Sometimes choices are made
for
us whether we want them or not.”

Traed rested his head back against the rim of his chair. “I cannot, Lorgin.”

Lorgin remained silent for a few moments. “Sometimes, you remind me of my brother…”

Traed looked at him in surprise. “Rejar and I have very little in common.”

Lorgin stretched his booted feet out to the fire, crossing his ankles. “More than either of you thinks.”

“Explain yourself.”

“Neither one of you wants to recognize your birthright. Both of you deny who you are and what you can become. Rejar hides himself behind his carefree, frolicsome Familiar ways while he denies his Charl background. You hide out here, as Adeeann would say, in the back of nowhere, hiding from what you fear, denying your own heritage.”

Traed raised an eyebrow. “You would make a terrible diplomat, Lorgin. You have never learned to temper your words.”

“Then it is fortunate I am a warrior, is it not?”

“Most fortunate.”

Lorgin rose, going to a sideboard; he poured them each a horn of
keeran.
He handed one to Traed before retaking his chair.

Traed gestured with his horn. “I take it this means I am in for a siege here?”