You said you wouldn’t do this to him anymore,” she said, bracing herself. “Does your word mean so little?”
“There was a time when my word, when my honor was everything. Yet, now, I’ve discovered how paltry such things can be when lives hang in the balance.”
“Don’t be dramatic.” She pressed her back to the wall, one hand sliding out to seek out the door latch.
“It’s not drama. You simply mean more than any promise I’ve made in…” He paused, clearly thinking hard. “Millenia. I won’t let you risk yourself. Not just to preserve my honor and not because my bearer is a thick-headed fool. You, your life. You’re everything, Tyriel and you cannot leave us, him. You are safe with him. You will stay.”
His voice was deeper, slower, gruffer than Aryn’s, his eyes hotter, heavier. “
“Irian, nebaste…” she whispered half-heartedly as he took her packs, tugging them away from her hands and dropping them to the floor. “Please…this solves nothing. You are not Aryn. I am not in love with you.”
“No. Yet part of you wants me almost as much as you want him.” Irian aligned Aryn’s long, rangy powerful body against hers, his thick, throbbing cock fitting into the notch between her thighs. “You cannot deny me that, girl…can you?”
Tyriel’s words died in a moan as his hands fisted in her hair and arched her face up. He took her mouth hungrily, tongue sweeping past parted lips to bring her Aryn’s taste, his scent, but something darker, and different, something more primitive, wilder.
Irian.
He rasped, “You will scream my name this night…before this night ends, I will hear it, I swear you that.”
Tyriel wasn’t so certain that he was wrong. His hands, hard and callused, grasped the sleeves of her silken blouse and she gasped into his mouth as she felt him tear it away. Then from under the form-fitting leather corselet, until the silken blouse was lying in shreds at her feet. She stood there with leather lifting her breasts, while her skirts and boots remained almost primly in place.
Irian moved a few steps back, keeping one hand on her neck in a hotly possessive grip as he gazed at her, lust burning in his eyes as he looked at her, gaze lingering on her tight nipples, on the breasts lifted and displayed by the corselet.
“Jiupsu…aakin su rrieul Jiupsu…” he crooned, staring at her.
Disconcerting, it was, hearing ancient, archaic Wildling flowing from Aryn’s mouth, especially as her vision started to waver and Irian’s image kept trying to superimpose itself over Aryn’s body.
“Lovely lady of the Jiupsu.” His hands gripped her skirt. Watching her, he pushed it down over her hips until she stood naked in front of him, save for her boots and the corselet, her cheeks flushing pink. His dark eyes heating with an inner flame that turned Tyriel’s blood into lava. “Be wild for me.”
She was already wet and now, under his gaze, heat pulsed between her thighs, an emptiness she’d never known centering there until she ached to be filled. Her breaths came in ragged pants while her heartbeat settled into a slow, almost rhythmic drumbeat, the music of lust that was a prelude to good, hard sex.
Irian’s nostrils flared and he scented her, his lips parting. His eyes focused on her body, clad in the corselet that rose to just under her breasts, pushing them up, two thin straps trailing up over her shoulders, and down her back. In front, the laces were pulled tight, revealing an inch of tanned toned flesh and Irian lifted his eyes to study her breasts so prominently displayed, nipples drawn tight and puckered, waist cinched down by the gleaming black leather. The corselet ended in a vee, the pointed ends bringing attention to her mound.
Almost as devastatingly erotic were the black boots that came up over her knees, elvish made, form-fitting, tight, thin and tooled, the supple leather soft against the gold of her skin.
“Lovely.” His voice was guttural and deep. Kneeling, he whispered it again as he leaned forward and nuzzled her belly, licking her navel as he reached around her and cupped her ass.
“Irian…” Tyriel gasped out his name as he caught her in his arms before she could slide to the floor, and he spread the lips of her sex and licked her.
She swayed and he rose, swinging her up into his arms. “No swooning. Tonight, I’ll have you screaming and sighing, but no swooning.”
She clung to his shoulders as he carried her to the bed.