away. I could hear his hard footsteps and I saw the sway of his tail as he disappeared into the shadows.
Then I was alone. The bodies of the jrikkia were piled near the base of the tree, a grotesque, disturbing mound of darkened fur. I huddled closer to the sleeping pyroki, drawing my knees up to my chest, and waited. I jumped when the fire crackled loudly.
I tensed when I heard a trickling sound in the distance but then I realized it was only water. I heard sporadic splashing, close enough that it was comforting.
My eyes went back to the mound of jrikkia.
When the trickling stopped, however, and no sound came after that for many long moments, I found my hands trembling, my eyes trained between the two tree trunks where the horde king had disappeared.
What is he doing? I wondered, my belly beginning to churn in fear again. When the canopy of the trees rustled behind me, my spine tingled and then I was up on my feet, though my entire body protested in response. My backside throbbed from falling off the pyroki. The flesh on my inner thighs screamed as the hide of my pants brushed it but I hurried forward nonetheless.
It was perhaps a foolish thing to do but I stepped beyond the clearing, scanning what laid beyond the thick tree line. I didn’t need to go far. I found the stream—he’d been right, it hadn’t been far from where we were camping for the night—and then I stilled, trailing my gaze along the winding, babbling water, searching.
Until I found him.
And when I did, my mouth went dry, my eyes went wide, and I immediately ducked behind the wide trunk of a tree, the roughened bark of it pressing painfully into my back.
His head had been turned in my direction and I prayed he hadn’t heard me. My eyes stared, unseeing, into the darkness. He’d paused briefly in what he was doing and then I heard his roughened pants again, soft huffs of breath that escaped him, followed by an unmistakable rhythmic sound.
I didn’t know what to do. I was afraid he’d discover me if I returned to the clearing now. I thought it a miracle he hadn’t heard me when I’d approached—but perhaps he’d been too lost in his pleasure.
My face flamed. I didn’t dare breathe as the rhythmic sounds came faster.
I want to see, came the thought. I didn’t deny the wanting and it bloomed in my belly. It was curiosity, I told myself. Of males, of Dakkari males, of him. Nothing more.
Slowly, I turned against the trunk until my front was pressed against it. And, with a small breath, I peeked out from behind it.
The horde king had his head tilted back, the long, strong column of his golden throat exposed. He’d cleaned himself up, his hair dripping water across his bare shoulders. He had one hand braced on a boulder next to the stream, his back bowed. And his other hand was working between his thighs, stroking his thickened length.
My nipples immediately tightened beneath my tunic, pebbling hard against the material. A tingling sensation stroked from my belly to my sex, warming me. I’d always loved the sensation of arousal, whenever I’d felt it before. It turned my mind to mush. I’d continuously been in awe of its power but had always been too hesitant to explore it more.
I didn’t dwell on the fact that watching the horde king pleasure himself made me aroused. I didn’t want to think about what that meant, so I simply ignored it.
And I simply watched.
“Vok,” he hissed softly, his hips bucking, and my treacherous little heart leapt in delight, my breath coming more quickly.
When I shifted to see better, the rough bark of the tree dragged across my nipples and I bit my lip against the sensation. This was the power of arousal, I knew. Because I was covered in his pyroki’s blood, we’d been attacked by jrikkia, he’d been nothing short of terrifying to me…and still, I was watching his hand speed and then slow over his engorged cock with bated breath and rubbing my nipples against a damn tree.
Arousal was dangerous.
Yet, I didn’t want it to end.
His body was unlike any I’d ever seen before. His scars told of his battles—of stories I wanted to hear, however dark—his muscles were perfectly sculpted and honed, befitting a warrior king who had shed enough blood in his lifetime. He terrified me, yes. He also fascinated me.