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  “Oh, by the gods, lady, don’t!” Leksi begged.

  “Ocnus reveled in the feel of my hand circling his cock,” she whispered.

  “Please!”

  “When I was still a virgin and he made the trek from Nauplius to my home in Geryon, we would steal off to the banks of the Celeus and lie there for hours on end. He would touch me—most honorably, I swear to you—but he taught me how to touch him to the best advantage.”

  Aware of the gentle up and down motion as the older woman’s fingers slid softly along his cock, Leksi held his breath. The feeling was one of sheer pleasure and he ceased to wriggle about on the bed.

  “He meant for me to go to our wedding bed with my maidenhead intact,” she continued as she increased the pressure on his turgid staff. “But that did not mean that he did not reciprocate as the months passed and our Joining day grew closer.”

  His vital juices were seeping from the slit of his penis and made the friction of her hand upon his flesh even more enjoyable. He caught a whiff of his own muskiness and began to tremble.

  “He had such strong hands,” Galatea remembered. “His fingers were long and tapered and could delve into spots that caused me to squirm like a speared fish on a branch.” She ran her thumb into the warrior’s slit and spread the sensitive lips.

  “Ahhh…” Leksi moaned, and felt no shame at lifting his hips up from the damp mattress.

  “The first time he slipped one of those glorious fingers inside me, I thought it was his cock for I had my back to him,” she said then laughed. “He nipped my neck and reminded me I was his virgin and I would remain so until he would seat himself fully within me.”

  The sexual talk was enflaming Leksi’s body to such a degree he felt he would combust if his rod did not explode. He was quivering from head to toe, his legs shaking as he dug his heels into the mattress.

  Galatea slipped off the bed and stood beside it though her tight hand was still wrapped around the warrior’s cock. “Oh, the wondrousness of his touch as he manipulated my clitoris!” she breathed. “I had never known such exquisite pleasure. When I came, it startled me at first, but then I felt the rapture of that itch subside to a very pleasant memory that I wished more than anything to repeat.”

  She leaned over him and slipped her tongue into the slit of his cock.

  Leksi Helios was not a novice to the art of lovemaking. He had known more than his share of women and broken many to saddle, but never had he experienced such a wild stab of desire grip him as he did as the older woman’s mouth replaced her hand upon his staff.

  The pressure was a sweet agony that drew upon his flesh in such a way he could have stayed that way forever. His climax was a suckle or two away now, but he wished nothing more than to prolong it for the sensation was enveloping his entire world.

  Galatea was pleasantly surprised at the taste of him for his essence was not particularly salty nor was it of a foul consistency. She knew from her years with Ocnus that a man’s seed often tasted of the last food of which he had partaken and taking that flavor into one’s mouth was not always enjoyable. This warrior’s juice was thick but it bore a bit of sweetness.

  Her lips were drawing from him every last bit of strength, and his limbs felt boneless even though they strained against the building ardor within him. As her tongue slid down his rigid length and lapped hungrily at his balls, he groaned so loudly, he was surprised at the sound.

  Chuckling deep in her throat, Galatea slid a finger beneath his ass and up into that puckered little hole even as her lips claimed his staff in a tight, deep suction that took her lips to the very root of his member to press hard against the wiry curls. She wiggled her finger, pressed her thumb hard against the indention of his male pleasure spot between the anal opening and his balls, and then felt the burst of his cum shoot like a cannonball coursing down the back of her throat. The jerk of his flesh within her mouth nearly gagged her but she swallowed quickly, her tongue pressing hard against the underside of his rod.

  “God!” Leksi shouted.

  The orgasm was more intense than any he’d ever experienced in his thirty-six years—and he’d had more than his share. It felt as though his climax would go on forever. When at last he was depleted, he sagged limply on the mattress, drained of energy as well as his life juice. Though he was aware the older woman still sucked gently upon his root, he was beyond reaction, past a lingering quiver of his muscles.

  Galatea withdrew her lips and hands from his flesh and straightened up. She sat down beside him once more and placed a warm hand on his belly. “Think you can sleep now, warrior?” she asked. “The one we brought you here for will be arriving soon, I hope. Are you anxious to see her?”

  Leksi Helios was so used up he couldn’t even grunt an answer to her. His eyes fluttered closed and within a matter of moments, he was sound asleep, his head tilted to one side.

  It had been many years since she had performed such an intimate act, for she had never thought to again. In her three decades of marriage to Ocnus, not once had her hands or limbs, or tongue encircled another man. Since his death, she had slept alone, no male of her acquaintance worthy enough to share the bed Ocnus had made for them by hand. Her enjoyment of the sexual union had been laid to rest alongside her beloved husband.

  “Sleep well, warrior,” she whispered, and kissed her fingertips before placing them lightly on the Venturian’s slack mouth.

  Getting up, she looked about her until she spied a coverlet thrown across a chair. She fetched the light wool and spread it gently over the naked warrior’s muscular body. Lifting the coverlet, she took one last look at the large staff that now lay sleeping against the warrior’s thigh. A tender smile tugged at Galatea’s mouth then she lowered the coverlet. Going to her own bed, she stretched out across the mattress as the wind sang in the palm fronds beyond her room.

  Chapter Two

  Kynthia was bone-tired as she slipped into the common room of her aunt’s villa. All was dark, the inside servants already in their beds. Only the sentries at the gates had been awake to welcome her but she had refused the offer of a footman to light her way to the villa’s portico. She preferred doing things for herself.

  The common room smelled of the mixed perfumes worn by her four sisters and it was not an unpleasant aroma that greeted her. Scant illumination shown from the dying embers in the hearth but there was enough sky-glow coming through the windows to light her way through the silent halls.

  Trudging wearily up the long, curving stairs, the young woman stopped in mid-step and thought of going back downstairs to fetch a cool goblet of wine, but she was too dog-tired after a day of hunting in the high mountains beyond the villa. The goblet of wine would be heavenly but a warm bath and a clean, fresh set of sheets was more enticing. Gripping the banister more firmly, she pulled herself up the chairs, her footsteps slow.

  Perhaps it was the sensation of a stranger present in the villa or a light snore that caught Kynthia’s attention as she moved past one of the guest rooms. Most likely, it was the opened door to a room kept closed off that halted her steps and drew her toward the darkened doorway. No candlelight glinted on the bedside table but then again none was needed for an errant beam of moonlight fell unerringly upon the bed and the man lying upon it.

  Kynthia pursed her lips for she knew exactly why the man was there. Padding quietly to the bed so she would not wake him, the young woman paused at the foot and stared at the lengths of chains securing bare feet to the foot posts. Lifting her eyes to the headboard, she made out the glint of chain there, as well. Spread-eagled upon the mattress was a male who was—she knew without a shred of doubt—as naked as the day he had popped out of his mother’s womb.

  “Damn it, Aunt Galatea!” Kynthia growled beneath her breath.

  For more years than she cared to remember, her aunt and sisters had been trying to saddle her with a mate. For just as many years, she had balked at the notion and refused to give in to their silly antics. If it wasn’t a man they’d
purchased from the vicious Amazeens, it was a traveler they’d waylaid along the road and dragged home in chains, drugged out of what feeble mind he had to begin with and completely used before being foisted off on her.

  This one was by far the handsomest offering to date, but despite his obvious male beauty and excellence of body, Kynthia wasn’t in the least bit interested. Dark, curly hair, long eyelashes and perfectly chiseled features might entice women like her sisters, but they did nothing for Kynthia save annoy her.

  Shaking her head at the ridiculousness of her aunt’s continual ploy to shackle her with a man, Kynthia turned away, the naked man on the bed already out of mind until the raspy voice stopped her.

  “Woman?”

  Rolling her eyes, bracing herself for either the hateful sting of the prisoner’s spleen or the uselessness of him pleading to be set free, Kynthia turned to find the warrior staring at her. “What?” she snapped.

  “Water?” he whispered.

  Knowing her sisters had used the man brutally, a tug of compassion touched Kynthia’s tight jaw, relaxing the clenched muscle. She looked to the bedside table but there was no water carafe sitting there. It was just like her sisters to abuse the ignorant prick then deny him even the most simple of creature comforts. Erinyes was known to starve a man for days on end until he did her bidding without complaint. How long this one had been held Kynthia could not know for she’d not been home for two weeks and had been expected three days earlier.

  “How long have you been here?” she queried.

  “A day,” he answered weakly. “Longer. I don’t know.”

  His accent intrigued her for she knew a Venturian when she heard one though she had never spoken to one of that country’s warriors. A light brogue—not unpleasant to the ears—slurred his words as much as his apparent weakness slowed it. His voice was deep, the inflection of his words bespeaking of a higher class of citizen.

  “I am thirsty. Water?” he asked again.

  Letting out an annoyed breath, Kynthia left the room and tramped down the stairs. It didn’t matter if her footsteps woke the entire household. Truth be told, she was up to verbally—if not physically—sparring with one or more of her sisters. After pouring a goblet of water for the stranger, she went to the cupboard in the dining area and poured herself a generous libation of Chrystallusian brandy. Stomping back up the stairs—angry that no one had ventured forth to quiet her heavy footfalls—she flounced into the room and stood there with both goblets.

  “Are you the one for whom they attacked me?” he asked, licking his lips as he stared at the goblet in her left hand.

  “I knew it!” Kynthia snapped. “I need to have a long talk with my aunt!”

  “You weren’t a part of it?” he asked, trying to swallow. “You didn’t ask them to kidnap me?”

  “They had no permission from me, I can assure you!” she replied. She placed the brandy on the bedside table then bent over the prisoner, sliding her right hand under his head to lift it. She placed the goblet of water to his lips.

  The ripe cherry smell of tenerse was heavy in the air as she leaned over him. She pressed her lips tightly together, for that was one drug she found almost as detestable as the deadly Maiden’s Briar, used on the tips of the scimitars of Hasdu warriors.

  “Did they drug you?” she asked, and straightened up a little as he pulled his mouth from the goblet to answer her.

  “Shot me,” he said, cocking his head to the left.

  Kynthia looked down and saw the dark slash against the tan of his muscular arm. “Must have been Haidee,” she commented. “She can’t hit the side of a stable when she’s standing right beside it!”

  He licked his lips, his action pleading silently for more water so Kynthia gave it to him. When the goblet was drained, she eased his head back to the mattress and straightened.

  “You are Kynthia?” he asked again.

  “Aye, that I am.”

  “So what is wrong with you?”

  “With me?” she gasped.

  “You can’t get your own man so they have to steal one for you?”

  Kynthia lifted her head. “I don’t want a damned man!”

  “Oh, you’re one of those and they are trying to break you of chasing skirts, eh?” Though his words were insulting, there was no fire in them.

  “Why do all men think if a woman has no use for them she craves another woman?” Kynthia sneered.

  “Because that is the way of it,” he told her.

  “No, it isn’t!” she spat. “I have no use for a man because I don’t care to be a slave to one! I can go and come when and where I please. I am not answerable to anyone other than my own conscience. I am not forced to clean for some sloppy man or cater to his slobbering needs. I don’t have to wash or mend his clothes or get up at the break of day to cook his meals or stay up long after I should be sleeping so I can warm his bed! I don’t have to endure his pawing or have him ramming into me whenever the whim strikes or feel his slimy cum running down my damned leg!”

  “You’re nothing like your sisters, huh?” he asked.

  “Why aren’t you erect? I’m surprised you’re still not as stiff as a Chalean blade,” she mumbled.

  “I would be if your aunt had not taken pity on me,” he said softly as he closed his eyes.

  Kynthia blinked. “My aunt?” she questioned.

  “The little woman with white hair,” he answered.

  Suspicion narrowed Kynthia’s eyes. “What did she do?”

  Despite the limited light cast from the moon glow through the windows, Kynthia saw the blush that stained the warrior’s cheeks. He opened one eye to look up at her. “She’s good at her craft,” he replied. “Her Ocnus taught her well.”

  Kynthia’s mouth dropped open and shock widened her pale gray eyes. “You lie!” she accused.

  The warrior opened his other eye. “Why would I and for what purpose? I’m as good as dead anyway.”

  “We’re not going to kill you, idiot. Come morning, they’ll turn you over to the Amazeens since I don’t want you and—”

  “Aye,” he snapped. “I’m as good as dead.”

  There were worse fates than being sold to the Amazeen, but most men didn’t believe so. Apparently, this one felt being handed over to the women warriors was a death sentence. As well it might be, if he did not behave.

  “She lay with you?” Kynthia wanted clarification.

  “Which one?” he snorted.

  “My aunt, fool!”

  “No,” was the reply in a voice that was stronger than before and filled with annoyance. “She sucked my cock.” He smiled faintly. “And was damned good at it, I must admit.”

  Stunned to the very core of her soul, Kynthia staggered back. She was staring at the bound man as though he were a demon from the slime beneath the Abyss.

  Leksi Helios studied the woman standing so rigidly at the foot of the bed upon which he was chained and wondered why she was so astonished by his statement. Surely, he was not the first male to be helped by this woman’s aunt.

  After a long moment of charged silence, young woman shuddered. “I want you out of this house now!” she hissed. “I’ll take no chance on Galatea coming near you again!” She knew the key to the lock attached to the chain was on a cord draped over one of the foot posts. She snatched it off the foot post and made quick work of the shackle binding his left ankle.

  Flexing his leg as his ankle was released, Leksi winced as the lock on his right ankle sprang loose for the woman’s nails had scratched him in her haste.

  “Interfering old crone,” the woman was mumbling as she came around the side and unlocked his left wrist. “Meddlesome old witch!”

  Leksi’s arm was asleep and fell uselessly upon the mattress when the shackle popped open. The sting of pins and needles pricking him as blood returned to his limb and the aching pull of his shoulder having been flexed at an awkward angle when he tried to raise it, made him wince as he listened to the litany of insults being heaped
upon this woman’s aunt.

  “Nosy old hag!” Kynthia swore. “Why the hell can’t she leave me alone? She knows I have no use for a rutting male!” She opened the lock on the warrior’s right wrist then stood there glaring down at him. “Get the hell up and out of my sight! Do you hear me?”

  Leksi’s limbs were all but useless as he tried to push himself erect. The coverlet was hindering his legs and his arms so weak he could not throw aside the obstruction.

  “Oh, for the love of Alluvia!” Kynthia cursed. She reached down, snagged the coverlet, and dragged it off him.

  The cool wash of air dragged over Leksi and he shivered. It mattered little that the woman was staring unabashedly at his nakedness. What was one more set of eyes on his manhood this night? What bothered him most was the uselessness of his arms and legs as he tried to rise.

  “Where are your damned clothes?” the woman demanded.

  “How the hell would I know? I didn’t strip myself!” he threw back at her as he managed to swing one leg off the side of the bed. His bare toes touched cold marble and he groaned.

  Kynthia made a hissing sound that sounded more serpentine than human as she spun around and began searching the room for his clothing. Spying a pile of something lying in the corner, she went to it and grabbed it. The feel of leather and coarse wool assured her these were men’s clothes. Without looking at them, she flung them toward the bed but something heavy fell to the floor at her feet and she bent down to scoop it up.

  “I did nothing to you or those sisters of yours,” Leksi grumbled as he snatched the leather britches from the bed.

  Staring down at the object in her hand, Kynthia’s forehead puckered in a confused frown.

  “I was on my way to Qabala though only the gods know what I thought I could accomplish there,” the warrior was saying as he clumsily thrust his legs into the britches. “If I had known five rampaging female rapists were out looking for a victim, I would have kept my ass in Tasjorn!”

  The crest was of finely worked silver and lay heavily in her hand as she walked to the window to see the thing beneath the bright moonlight.