The Battle Lord Saga 02 - Her Battle Lord's Desire (11 page)

rain. She pulled back slightly before reaching up for him, and he heard her softly moan in the

back of her throat. Unable to stop himself, Yulen reached out with his other hand and cupped one

round breast where it was revealed beneath her sodden tunic. Her breath hitched at the touch and

the warmth of his hand, and Yulen felt the nipple grow taut in his palm.

“Atrilan...”

She shivered in his arms, from the power of his mouth taking hers, and Yulen pressed her

tightly between his legs, along his hardening length.

“Nooo,” she breathed, even while her body strained against the confines of her wet

clothing.

Yulen bent over her as he dropped to his knees, pulling her upward to feel her breasts

firmly against his chest. He dropped the sprig of mint, searched for and found the waistband of

her pants, and slid his hand down inside, past the softness of her belly, until his fingers reached the

satiny curls between her legs. Within their soft strands her moist fire grew hotter with his touch.

Sliding a finger between her folds, he found her nub already stiff and pulsing. Lightly he began to

massage it.

Again Atty groaned. Her hips moved with his fingers as the dizzying sensations overtook

them, and she became lost in the maelstrom of emotions he was bringing out of her. She clutched

his shirt across his shoulders as his tongue began to plunge into the depths of her mouth and his

fingers began to demand entrance to the depths of her tight channel.

Yulen shuddered as her scent and her muskiness filled him. Together they lost all track of

time, all sense of the present. All they could feel was the rising fire consuming them, demanding a

release they couldn’t ignore.

Until a voice behind them politely cleared its throat.

Yulen froze. They were both breathing heavily, and it took him a long moment to collect

himself. “Who?” he whispered in Atty’s hair.

“Cole.”

Straightening up a bit, he angrily demanded, “
What?
”

Mastin stood his ground, although he knew he had encroached upon something so private,

he could very well be in danger of losing his ranking.

“Forgive the intrusion, sir, but Pirkins is fading. The doctor wants you to come be with

the man in his last moments.”

Bending his head so that his forehead pressed against her neck, he slowly removed his

hand from her pants and gently pulled away from her. Looking down at her, he noticed she kept

her eyes averted from his. “Sorry, my love,” he whispered. A quick glance down revealed he was

far from being decent enough to follow the Second back to where the physician had set up his

makeshift clinic, but he had no choice. Getting to his feet, he brushed off his knees before

offering her a hand up, which she declined.

Through her lashes Atty watched at him go with Mastin. She had almost made a mistake,

betrayed by her own body and her overwhelming hunger for him. She hadn’t been prepared for

what he had done, or for the exquisite feeling of drowning in his desire that had washed over her.

Quickly she gathered the rest of the mint, along with her bundle of baby squash, and

hurried back to the campfire, determined not to let it happen again until she was ready to

surrender.

By the time Yulen and MaGrath returned to their campfire, Atty was ready to serve them.

They ate in relative silence in the wake of the death of one of their men.

“I’m sorry,” Atty finally said, hoping it would break the uneasiness among them.

“It was a stupid death,” MaGrath commented bitterly.

“He was inexperienced,” Yulen reminded him. “The fault lies with me for letting him

come with us.” He paused, then added, “Constance will be heartbroken. Vicktor was her only

son.” He looked up at his wife. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Atty. If you hadn’t been

aware of those creatures when you did, the death toll could have been much higher.” Putting his

bowl down, he apologized for not finishing the meal. “It’s good, Atty, but at the moment I have

no appetite. I think I’ll go check on the rest of the men.”

“Good idea,” MaGrath commented, also putting down his bowl before getting to his feet.

Leaning over, he gave her a quick kiss on the forehead. “Get inside and dry off. You’ll catch

your death if you stay soaked like that.”

Atty nodded. After the near incident in the meadow, she no longer felt any hunger for

food. When she had glanced up to see her husband approaching their fire, it was if they were

back kneeling in the muddy patch of mint, devouring each other as though they hadn’t eaten in

months.

She went inside the tent to look for a towel. Inside the flap, she removed her boots, and

noticed someone had placed a brazier in the ground, near the doorway. Already the interior of

the tent was warm, chasing away the goose bumps from her arms. Finding a towel in the small

bath area, Atty plopped down on one of the larger pillows and started drying off her hair,

lamenting the fact that she’d worn it unbraided all day. Not a wise move, she lamented in

hindsight. There had to be a hundred tangles in it.

As she continued to rub the rain out of her hair, the heat from the coals suffused her

senses, sending warmth into her flesh, down into her very bones, until she found herself unable to

keep her eyes open. A quick nap, she told herself. A brief nap, just until Yulen returned. The

pillows were soft and dry...warm and inviting.

She was asleep almost instantly.

It was the feel of his lips on her throat that awoke her. She tried to roll over, only to find

her body trapped between his and the pillows beneath her.

“Yul?”

“You taste...so good,” he murmured against her bared skin. He reached down and pulled

her tunic up above her breasts. Released from the dried warmth of the material, her nipples

hardened in the cooler air. Yulen dipped his head and placed his mouth over one pale pink bud.

Atty had no idea how long she’d been asleep, or what time it was now. All she could feel

was the wonderfully familiar sensation of his velvet-rough tongue on her skin as it raised goose

bumps in its wake. One hand had dipped between her legs and was pressing knuckles against the

fabric that was already hot and moist from her anticipation. At some point she groaned, and the

sound was an aphrodisiac to his ears.

“I want you, Atrilan,” he breathed. His passion echoed in her heart, her most vulnerable

target, where she knew that, if he wanted to take her against her will, she wouldn’t fight,

wouldn’t do anything but gladly lose the battle she’d tried to fight for the past two nights.

“No, Yul. Please, no.”

“But you want me,” he told her, bringing his lips to her ear as he pressed himself against

her, rubbing himself along her skin.

Atty felt her fingers reach for him, but she forced herself not to let him reach her lips. If

he claimed her mouth, she would be gone. She had no power to resist once his kiss reached her

innermost soul. No power to deny him. No power to hold back. No power but to give in to the

strength of his love.

“Don’t do this to me,” she begged weakly. His lips on her breasts, his teeth tenderly biting

her swollen aureoles and sending fingers of fire and ice throughout her body. Her skin was

aflame, her muscles frozen.

“Admit you want me as much as I want you. Beg me to make love to you, Atrilan. Tell

me you want me inside of you. Tell me...tell me...”

She whimpered in physical pain. By denying him, she was denying herself, and the agony

she felt was almost unbearable. Too late she realized her body was placing itself in his hands, and

Atty tried to stop his fingers from unbuttoning her pants.

His hair was wet where it lay across her shoulder. She could smell him, smell his earthy

masculinity, smell his skin and his warmth as he leaned over her, and his hands began to push her

pants down over her hips and buttocks.

“Yul!”

“
Tell me.”

“No,” she breathed, damning herself as her hips raised involuntarily as he lifted off of her

momentarily. She could hear him removing his weapons belt, dropping it beside them, then begin

to remove his own pants. “Please. Not now, Yul. Please.”

“Why?” He finally paused to breath the question against the satiny column of her neck.

He pressed his lips to where her pulse beat at the surface, licking the tiny beads of perspiration

forming there.

Why? How could she tell him without losing his love, perhaps forever?

Too late, she felt him move himself into the juncture of her thighs. His thick erection

sought her depths, but somehow she managed to keep her legs tightly pressed together as the

head of it buried itself like a wedge between her folds. Her thighs were slick with her own juices,

making his burrowing easier.

Atty cried softly. He was holding down her hands, his fingers entwined with hers as he

held them to her sides. She was virtually a prisoner to her own lust as much as she was to his.

“Why should I stop?” he whispered again. He moved his hips into hers, pushing his

hardness further into the triangle of soft curls. Another inch, and he would inside her. “Tell me to

stop. Tell me you don’t want me. Tell me you don’t need to feel me inside of you, bringing you

as you’re bringing me. Tell me you’re not excited. Tell me you’re not aching for me as terribly as

I ache for you. I want to feel your heat, Atrilan. I need to feel you around me. I need you to

milk me dry when you come. Make love with me, my beautiful Atrilan. Help me make deep,

long, slow love all night with you.”

She tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. Two sides of herself were at war, and

neither one would win. Not now. Not tonight. It was torture.

Yulen dropped himself upon her, propping most of his weight on his lower arms and

elbows, and began to rub his naked body along hers. The fire inside her was all consuming. She

could feel her legs begin to part, and knew all was lost. She arched her back and cried out as

tears rolled down her face.

“Oh, God, I thought you loved me,” she sobbed out loud.

Her cry was like a bucket of cold water. Instantly, Yulen released her and rolled off. Atty

turned onto her side, away from him, and curled into a little ball. She could hear him breathing

heavily as the minutes passed. Then, as quietly as he’d entered the tent, he rose, pulled his pants

back on, and left without saying a word.

Despite the brazier, she felt chilled. Her fingers found a blanket, and she drew it over her

as she began to shiver. She felt hot and cold at the same time. She couldn’t stop shaking.

Perhaps it was minutes later, or maybe it was an hour later when she heard the door flap

move aside. But this time it wasn’t Yulen’s footsteps she heard. Glancing over her shoulder, she

saw MaGrath walk over to where she laid curled up. Casually, he sat down on one of the nearby

pillows and crossed one leg over the other, hands in his lap.

And then he watched her and waited.

Pulling her tunic back down over her breasts, Atty rolled over and wiped her face with a

corner of the blanket. The physician stared back at her in that calm, unhurried way he had before

he tended to ream out the person responsible for making him angry.

To her surprise, his first words were neither sharp nor heated.

“The first time I realized Yulen was falling in love with you was that night he kept going

back to that little shop where you were being held prisoner. It was like he was looking for any

excuse in the book to approach you. And when he finally did go inside to take the ropes off your

wrists, for a split second I saw him reach for you, as if he was going to take you into his arms. I

don’t think he was even aware of his actions.” MaGrath nodded. “That’s when I first suspected.

It’s as close to love at first sight as I’ve ever witnessed. Want to know when I knew he was a

goner for certain?”

Slowly she nodded.

“The night you cooked that squirrel you’d killed. After I had taken the bandage off your

face. I saw the look in his eyes as he studied you. I saw the way he reacted when you handed

him his trencher, and your fingers touched. It was like watching lightning strike.”

He cocked his head to one side, as if examining her. “I never found out what happened

between the two of you that day you saved him from the bull ferret, but I know it cemented

whatever feelings were growing. What happened out there, Atrilan, if you don’t mind my

asking?”

She licked her lips. Hearing him use that tone of voice tonight was a strange but

somehow comforting occurrence. “He kissed me,” she replied softly.

“Ah.” He smiled. “The first kiss. Well, Yulen’s always had a reputation among the

woman as being a phenomenal kisser. Of course, I wouldn’t know first-hand.” He grinned again,

and was pleased to see a small twitch at the corners of her mouth. “So, tell me, Atrilan. When

did you first realize you were falling in love with the Battle Lord?”

He waited for her to collect herself. For her to open up, which he knew she eventually

would do with a bit of coaxing. There were only two people left in the world she trusted enough

to be totally honest with, and she was married to the other one.