Sheala (26 page)

“Marljas! Now!”

Covering her mouth with his, he surged into her one final time, as deeply as he could. His balls tightened and hot fire erupted from his cock.

The muscles of her thighs quivered as she tightened her legs around his waist, Sheala ground her hips against him and screamed into his mouth.

When cum finally stopped spurting from his cock, with what seemed to be the last of his strength, Marljas rolled onto his back pulling Sheala with him. Not taking any chances, he kept her pinioned to his chest with tightly clasped arms.

Sighing contentedly, Sheala kissed the three scars on her husband’s chest and propped herself up on her elbows.

His arms tightened.

Sheala met his worried gaze and smiled. “I’ve been a fool.”

His tense body relaxed and his tight grip loosened. “No,
Cheta
, never a fool.” He grinned. “Misguided, perhaps.”

She grinned back. “Misguided?” Her tail slid up the inside of his thigh and wrapped around his still semierect cock.

It hardened again immediately.

Elbows on Marljas’ chest, her chin propped in her hands, Sheala looked down into his face.

“Misguided?”

Her tail began to pump his cock.

His eyes narrowed. He cupped her ass cheeks and began to knead them.

At first, Sheala stiffened, but then she relaxed as his fingers drew small whorls on each cheek.

Her nipples pebbled.

There was a catch in his voice. “Mis—guided.”

She tightened her tail around his cock.

“Tease me, will you!” Flipping her over on her back, Marljas thrust his cock between her spread legs, into her hot, wet pussy.

Her laughter quickly turned into moans of ecstasy.

Night was falling by the time Sheala and Marljas rode back to his parents’ house.

“Do you think they saved us anything to eat?”

Marljas slid his fingers between her spread thighs. “You can think about food now?”

Chuckling, Sheala leaned back against his chest. “Play all you want, but I know your cock won’t rise before tomorrow morning.”

He nuzzled her neck. “I swear, I’ll be between your thighs before midnight.”

“You were between my thighs all afternoon.”

“I’d still be there if the horse had left us alone.”

Sheala grinned. “He’s hungry.”

Laughter rumbled in his chest. “Like you.”

“Like me.”

He cupped her with his free hand. “You should have put your own clothing on instead of wearing my tunic. You wouldn’t be so much of a temptation then.”

Sheala looked down at the still-wet clothing draped over the horse’s withers. “They’re wet and filthy.

Your tunic was a much better alternative.” She stroked the forearm holding the reins. “The hair on your arms is so soft.”

Marljas snorted. “I’d rather hear you praising my cock.”

She chuckled. “Your cock is not soft, love. At least it wasn’t.”

Horses in the corral whickered as they rode by.

A grinning farmhand took the reins of the horse after they’d both dismounted.

Hand in hand, they strolled towards the house. When they reached the wide veranda facing the barns, Denieen’s smile and Wendjas’ raised eyebrow and wide grin elicited a comment from Sheala.

“Well, you really didn’t expect me to wear those filthy clothes back, did you?”

Totally unconcerned with the fact that Marljas’ tunic, which she had belted tightly around her waist, revealed more of her body than it hid, Sheala perched on the arm of an overstuffed chair.

“Is there anything left to eat, Mother?” Marljas asked with a grin as he draped an arm around Sheala’s shoulders and pulled her close. “We’re starved. I’m sorry we are late, but we were—sidetracked.”

That comment prompted laughter from everyone.

“Cook kept something warm for you, but I wouldn’t complain about whatever it is, my son,” Teena said with a laugh. “You know she doesn’t like her schedule disrupted.”

“How’s the foal?” Sheala asked contentedly from Marljas’ arms.

“Sleeping with a full belly,” Drefes answered, “and the mare is down beside her. Sheala, our tribe owes you a debt that cannot be repaid. I speak for both Teena and myself when I say anything we have is yours.”

Sheala grinned. “But I already have your most valuable possession,” she countered, sliding her arm around Marljas’ waist.

“Bah,” Beti snorted from a dark corner. “I’m going to bed. I have no wish to listen to a Drakian spouting about the joys of sex.”

As Beti rose to leave, Radris bolted out of the chair where he sat. His attempt to intercept Beti was wasted, however, for she neatly sidestepped and tripped him into another chair. “You will have to do better than that, Gattan,” she said as she disappeared into the house.

“Radris has become infatuated with Beti,” said a grinning Sosha by way of explanation. “That’s the third attempt he’s made to capture her.”

Her laughter echoing across the yard, Sheala crowed, “I must send a message to Jami and Vani, and I wish I could see the look on Uncle Findal’s face when they tell him one of his Aradabs is being courted by the head of the Gattan royal guard.”

“You call the King of Mediria uncle?” Teena asked.

“I told you the Alalakan clan was close to the Medirian royal family,” Deni interjected.

“The wife of my youngest son calls the King of Mediria uncle,” Drefes mused.

Wendjas grinned at his father. “I told you that this business of trading can be more rewarding than war.”

Sheala laughed. “Don’t ask for my help. I intend to stay neutral in any trading battles between you.”

Laughing, Marljas lifted a giggling Sheala into his arms and strode into the house. “Come, Wife, I’m hungry.”

Everyone heard the comment that drifted back through the still open door. “For food or for me?”

“Both!” was the emphatic answer.

A look of consternation crossed Teena’s face. “I have a Drakian daughter-in-law,” she said in a slightly worried tone. “She won’t insist upon running through the house naked, will she?”

Denieen burst into laughter. “She has better manners than that, Teena. But I would find Marljas and her a larger suite of rooms. I don’t think there’s a Drakian alive who could even conceive of being able to make love in only one room. And I would certainly knock before I entered any room they were in at the same time.”

Unbelieving looks on both their faces, Drefes and Teena gaped at Deni. But Wendjas and Sosha nodded in agreement, Wendjas ruefully and Sosha with some amusement.

“You can’t possibly begin to believe how many couples I interrupted when we were on Drakan,”

Wendjas muttered.

“Don’t forget the threesome behind the bushes in the herb garden,” Deni interjected with a grin.

A beseeching look on her face, Teena looked to Deni.

Continuing to grin, Deni only shook her head. “I am sorry, Teena, but Sheala is Drakian. It’s her nature and upbringing to be open about her own and everyone else’s sexuality. However, as I said before, she is a well brought up young woman. Both her mother and grandmother were quite thorough with their training, and Sheala has spent many hours with me seeking to learn about Gattan. Have no fear, she will shame neither the family nor the tribe, but we will have to become a bit more flexible in our treatment and traditions about sexual relations.”

Radris stretched and rose to his feet. Smiling he said, “I for one won’t be averse to beautiful young women with few sexual inhibitions wandering around.”

Completely surprising his parents, Wendjas rose, held out his hand to his wife, and said, “I, too, am hungry, Deni. Shall we go to our bed?”

Denieen chuckled as she put her hand into Wendjas’, and he led her into the house.

Teena and Drefes looked at each other.

“I told you that trip to Drakan might not be a good idea,” Drefes mumbled. “Who knows what ideas Hendjas and Charjas picked up.”

Mentally agreeing with her husband, Teena sighed but said, “We all agreed that they should go, that the future of our planet depended on trade not war. It’s too late for recriminations now, my love. It is late.”

She turned to Sosha. “Are you coming?”

“I’d like to sit here a bit longer, if you do not mind.”

After her hosts left, Sosha turned off the light. Sheala had overcome her fear of Marljas’ almost overpowering sexuality and was obviously very happy.

“Will I ever be so lucky to experience such joy?” she muttered into the darkness.

Jadis Franasdotir paced back and forth in her luxurious sitting room. “Are you sure it wasn’t a Drakian ceremony?”

“I saw his scars myself, Mother,” answered a pouting Kadis from where she perched primly on an uncomfortable chair, “and he’s got a matching set on the right side for that alien bloodsister of his.”

Sprawled in a comfortable chair, Kadis’ elder brother Cadan said nothing. He wasn’t about to remind his mother and sister that he’d told them their plan to have Kadis marry Marljas and take control of that particular branch
Leonine
tribe wouldn’t work.

Jadis stopped pacing in front of her daughter. “But you’re sure she’s refusing him sexually?”

Kadis preened. “I heard him say it myself.”

Stomping over to her seemingly bored son, Jadis kicked at his foot and snapped, “Don’t just sit there, say something!”

Slowly, he sat up. “What would you have me say, Mother? That your plan will still work?” Then throwing discretion to the winds, he continued. “I told you that Marljas wouldn’t marry Kadis, but you insisted that he would. Well, that marriage won’t happen now, and we have squandered three other viable plans in favor of this farce.”

Jadis swung unsheathed claws at her son. “Get out, you puling male!”

As always, quick on his feet and knowing his mother’s explosive temper, Cadan ducked and leaped at his opportunity to escape the room.

“And don’t return until I summon you,” his mother shrieked at the closing door.

Still fuming, Jadis disemboweled two pillows and slashed the jacket her son had left to shreds. “Why weren’t you born first?” she snarled at her daughter. “Then I wouldn’t have a weakling son to tolerate.”

“Mother, control yourself,” Kadis said cautiously. “You know how servants gossip. Do you want some menial whispering in Krondal’s ear that you can’t control yourself? Aunt Mattis listens to him entirely too much.”

Fantasizing that the pillow she was currently ripping to shreds was her son, Jadis dropped the tattered remains as her daughter’s words penetrated.

“Krondal,” Jadis spat, “another male with far too much influence. If he’d married me, he’d have been put in his place years ago.”

Nodding in agreement, Kadis said, “But first we have to do something about this Drakian woman.”

An evil smile appeared on Jadis’ face. “We could push for a second wife.”

Kadis shook her head. “Sosha Kanicsdotir will then push her claim, and she and her parents have a signed betrothal contract. If the Council insists on a second, Gattan wife for Marljas, she has first claim.

Before I left, I heard Teena’s maids gossiping that Marljas had already offered Sosha the position of second wife.”

Muttering to herself, Jadis resumed her pacing. “Bah! How did that upstart escape? That damned pirate guaranteed that he had the perfect buyer, and we’d never see that little slut again. I’m glad I didn’t inform her parents of her return.”

Kadis frowned at her mother. “Pirate? Who are you talking about?”

Realizing that she’d said too much, Jadis turned to face her daughter. “Never mind. Do you think you could win a personal challenge?”

Warily, Kadis looked at her mother. “As long as the Aradab can’t take the Drakian’s place.”

Shock dropped over Jadis’ face. “The Aradab is that good?”

Kadis rose and began pacing. “Mother, you know my skills. Of the young women my age, none are better. However, I am absolutely positive that there is not a woman on this planet who could best the Aradab, not even Jenia Drostindotir. I even think the Aradab woman could defeat many of the men.”

Dropping to the chair nearest her, Jadis nodded silently. She did not doubt her daughter’s word. If Kadis said the Aradab could defeat Jenia, sixth-level
Snopard
priestess and personal bodyguard to the queen, then she could. The thought was sobering.

Shaking herself out of her reverie, Jadis gathered her composure. “We can find something which will allow you to challenge the girl. If she is afraid of sex, her fighting skills will be lacking. And she has no claws.”

“The Aradab is training her,” Kadis interjected uneasily.

Jadis understood her daughter’s fear. She too had lost once to an enemy she thought to defeat easily.

“This wife of Marljas is Drakian, my love,” Jadis said stroking her daughter’s cheek. “From what you learned, the Aradab woman had been on Drakan only a month or so before coming here with them. Even if they trained every hour of the day, there is no way even an Aradab could make a fighter out of an indolent Drakian.”

Kadis relaxed and began to smile. “You’re correct, of course, Mother. Even Sosha, who has been trained since birth, is no longer an effective fighter since she lost her claws. A Drakian couldn’t possibly defeat me in a fair fight.” She chose not to tell her mother how strong Sheala’s grip had been on her wrist.

Or one not so fair, Jadis mused silently. Then she continued. “I’ll consult with the
Tigre
lore masters, but I’m sure we’ll be able to challenge on the grounds that we were led to believe that the betrothal was agreed upon, and Marljas is the one who reneged on the agreement. Teena wasn’t on Drakan with Marljas, and I doubt Denieen ever gave him permission to marry even though she had the right to do so.”

Her lips curled, Kadis sneered, “Denieen is one Gattan I will enjoy seeing humbled. When I’m married to Marljas, I will put her in her place.”

“And that condescending Teena, also, my love,” Jadis added as the fantasy she had developed and refined since her daughter was a girl took over. “We’ll teach the people what it means to be truly Gattan, and they will bow down to me in gratitude. That stupid Mattis will be pulled from the throne, and I’ll take her place. Then she’ll learn what it means to deny and humiliate me!”