Warlord and the Waif by Chloe Parker

CHAPTER NINETEEN

ELLA

I’VE ONLY JUST gotten my bearings again when Calder tosses me to my feet, sending me staggering back against the large stone island in the kitchen. Portia whips around with wide eyes and her mouth set and ready for some kind of rebuke, but pauses in surprise when she sees the wine drenching Calder’s beard and cloak.

“What happened?” she starts to ask, but Calder simply raises a hand and points at the exit.

“Get out.”

Portia opens her mouth to argue, then shuts it again.

“And take the bots with you,” Calder adds, the anger simmering in his voice, “We need the room.”

Portia looks between us, an unreadable expression on her face, then nods. “I’ll leave you two alone.”

Without another word, she hustles out of the room, the bots following behind her. The door shuts with a thud behind Portia and I steel myself as I raise my eyes to meet his.

“I don’t regret what I did,” I say before he has a chance to speak.

He clenches his fists, the knuckles cracking.

“You treated our guests with egregious disrespect,” he says. “You embarrassed me in front of the delegation. And now you show me the same insolence?”

“Those people are evil,” I continue, “I don’t know why you give in to them.”

“Silence!”

He steps menacingly toward me, but I remain still as a monolith, my gaze locked on his. I’ve been through things far scarier than this. I’ve faced down the National Guard at a protest. Hell, I’ve traveled through deep space, woken up on an alien world, and still kept my sanity.

And I feel a tremor of anticipation at his touch, even through his anger.

Calder invades my space, hunching his shoulders over me until I’m in his shadow. I know I should be frightened, but all I can feel is the fire in the pit of my stomach, the delicious ache that stems from the memory of his fingers fucking me mere hours ago.

“You will learn respect,” he growls, so close that I can smell the wine on his chest and in his breath.

My voice is a harsh whisper when I rasp out a response.

“Never.”

His kiss is fiery and quick, but it seems like it happens in slow motion. Closing the distance between us; his mouth hot and hard on mine; his tongue pressing against my closed lips until I open to him and groan into his mouth.

He kisses me like we’re going to die, and it tastes like living.

His hands fly up to my arms as he grabs me by the shoulders and shoves me against the stone table. Pots and pans clatter to the floor and I scramble to keep my balance, but I can’t stop kissing him, can’t get enough of the flavor of wine on his tongue and the way he makes love to my mouth with his. Calder thrusts his tongue against mine again and again, teasing and tasting my lips, and it somehow feels almost as good as when he ran his tongue over my sex in his room.

He lifts me onto the table and steps between my legs, and I can’t contain the groan that escapes my lips when I feel his hard dick press against my core. I wrench my mouth away to roll my head back, lifting my hips to grind on him.

Calder takes my tilted head as an opportunity to scrape his teeth against my pulse, his hands yanking at the bodice of my blue dress. His tongue flicks across my skin with desperation, his fingers shoving under my neckline, pulling the fabric until I hear it shred. The cold air pricks at my exposed breasts, warming only when Calder’s large hands covers them.

And he’s moving those hands, pulling at my nipples, flicking and twisting, all while he nips and licks my neck.

He rocks against me, thrusting the bulge of his dick into the thin fabric of my underwear, and I unlatch the buckle and shove the cloak off his shoulders as I wrap my legs around his waist to get closer. Calder groans when I run my hands over his shoulders and through his hair, finally wrapping my hands around the base of his antlers.

My breasts are still propped up from the bodice laced underneath, and as I pull myself upward to grind against him once more, he takes a nipple into his mouth, sucking at me like I’m the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted. My head falls back and I hang on to his horns as he clutches me to him, his fingers on my spine and his mouth doing the most wicked things to my breasts. He sucks my other nipple between his lips, biting down, and I cry out, not caring if anyone hears.

His hands, his mouth, his cock.

Too many barriers between us, too much keeping us apart.

And he’s as impatient as I am. With one fluid motion, he pulls my undergarments down to my ankles, tosses them away. Then his fingers stroke me, his calluses catching just slightly on my clitoris, and I melt. I want him inside me, not his hands, but I can’t utter the details of my desires. Any attempt at articulating what I want results in incoherent babbling.

He has me entirely under his command.

Calder strokes me, then slips a finger in, then two. We’ve ached for each other for days, and now we’ll finally come to completion.

It hits me all at once.

Oh God. I’m coming.

I open my eyes to meet his, and it’s like he can’t resist when he kisses me again, breathing me in, swallowing the sound of my orgasm. I rock against his hand as he continues to plunge his fingers in and out of me, his mouth on mine, his other hand still on my breast.

He slows, then stills. I can’t get a full breath. He pulls his fingers from me with a slick pop and I nearly come again when he puts his fingers in his mouth, tasting me.

I’m so wet. I’m going to ruin my pretty dress.

He tugs at the belt around his trousers, then shoves the leather down to set his dick free. It springs out, bronze and imposing, the ridges on it presenting all kinds of interesting possibilities. When he rubs the thick head against my opening, gripping the back of my neck and hissing out a breath, I roll my hips to urge him in.

But for the first time, he shows restraint, his eyes trained on mine. His hands go to the pins in my hair, pulling them out until my curls tumble free. It’s a tender motion at first, running his fingers through the strands, but then he takes a handful of my hair, dragging my head back to expose my throat.

Calder sucks on my neck, almost certainly leaving a bruise. As he does, he teases the head of his dick against my sex, stroking it up and down, driving me crazy.

“I’m ready,” I whisper in frustration, trying to reach for him. But he pins my hand back to the table, keeping me still as he moves down to my breast, nibbling again at my nipple. We’re so close to completion, and I’m so close to a second orgasm, but he won’t budge.

“I told you that before I fucked you, you would beg for my cock,” he says. “So beg.”

My mind can’t process the order at first. I don’t like being told what to do.

But his dick pressing against me, so close to the edge…

“Beg for me, beauty.”

I cave.

“Please.”

“Tell me what you want.”

“I want you to fuck me,” I whisper, my voice strangled.

Calder groans against my throat and presses just slightly inside, filling my entrance. I inhale a staggered breath, my arms extended behind me and barely holding me up.

He withdraws.

“Tell me again,” he growls.

I’m entirely under his spell.

“I want your cock,” I say, opening my glazed eyes to his. The blue of his irises is so intense that I may as well be trapped there. “Please give it to me.”

He thrusts forward, filling me completely. The ridges along his dick and the slight pressure of the head produce a new sensation that leaves me devastated. He’s somehow harder than the human men I’ve been with, but also seems to fit more perfectly, pressing deliciously against the spots that feel best. He withdraws and then presses in again and I collapse onto my back, spasms of pleasure engulfing me.

Calder scoops me up and plants my hands on the table, and I blink slowly at him. I come back to consciousness quickly when he yanks my hair, holding it at the nape of my neck.

“Stay with me,” he says “I’m not nearly done with you, and I want to watch you come for me.”

With effort, I keep my hands underneath me, my eyes open. When he takes another aggressive thrust, my head lolls back, but he pulls me upright again with a yank to my hair.

“Obey me,” he snarls.

I can muster only enough of a voice to whisper, but I persist.

“Never,” I repeat.

He roars and thrusts once, twice. I keep my eyes on him, defying him even in our union.

I think he likes it.

He fucks me harder and faster, one hand gripping my hair and the other clutching my hip, leaving marks. I wrap my legs tight around him and pull him closer, reaching one hand up to grasp his antlers and brace myself against him. Calder is so hot, and I’m dripping with desire. He clutches me to him as he plunges into me.

He never takes his eyes off me.

I watch him watch me, see his lips part when I give myself entirely to his embrace. We race to completion at a fever pitch, but time stretches out between us. I zero in on the sound of his moans, the clatter of dishes on the drying rack behind me, the sensation of fullness at my core.

“Do you feel yourself nearing bliss?” he asks, withdrawing slowly and teasing at my entrance with every inch.

I pulse around him, and get out a weak nod just before he sends me reeling again by pressing all the way inside. I hang on to his antlers, every muscle like jelly.

“Your body thirsts for me,” he says, “Tell me you’re mine.”

I rebel.

“I belong to no one,” I say.

He thrusts in deeper than he has before, pulls out completely, then begins fucking me again. I’m so close to the edge, so well-fucked that I can barely keep my grip on his horn.

He stops, and I groan in protest.

“Tell me you’re mine,” he says. “As I am yours.”

I don’t know what it all means. This is happening so fast.

But it feels right, through every inch of me, and with his dick lodged inside me it seems the words are only a formality.

“I’m yours,” I murmur, and I don’t even have time to process the words before he’s making love to me, pressing kisses to my neck and chest, setting a pace that makes me ache with need. I tumble toward completion, and he moans a hot breath against my neck, rumbling in his chest. The vibrations tickle my breasts as my already-sensitive nipples brush against his pecs.

I squeeze him between my legs, lap at the wine on his collar bone, grip the base of his horns so I won’t fly off into space.

Calder groans again, louder, keeping his eyes on me. His eyes squeeze shut, and as I feel his dick pulse inside me, I lose myself in the pleasure. My orgasm shakes me, his moans on my neck a hymn to whatever arcane god has possessed me, and I ride his dick as he comes with shuddering breaths.

I melt into his arms and he lays me down, withdrawing slowly until he comes free and I gasp with longing.

“How often I’ve dreamed of having you spread out before me,” he muses from between my legs. I glance down to see his eyes roaming over me: my exposed breasts, the skirt hiked up to my hips, my hair in disarray.

He loves it.

Calder palms my breasts with both hands, pinching my left nipple between two fingers and twisting.

Every resting nerve lights back up, and I release a gasp.

“We should be discreet, but you will come to my quarters tonight,” he says, an order that makes me ache for more. As he speaks, he plays with my breasts, inciting all those sensations to come roaring back. His calluses are rough on my skin, his touch just gentle enough to please and just hard enough to leave me breathless. “Beautiful woman…I will make you forget your despair. Your mind will be mine for tonight, and I will teach you what comes of brazen behavior.”

I would normally hate that he’s ordering me around. I would stamp my foot and get dressed and leave.

But I want this night with everything in me.

“When?” I ask.

“After midnight, when the delegation has gone to bed.” He tweaks my right breast and I writhe under his touch. “There’s much of you I have yet to claim. Tonight, you’re mine.”

His hands leave me, and I’m cold for a moment before I feel a sheet — maybe a tablecloth — draped over my chest. I sit back upright to see Calder watching me, his eyes on where I clutch the sheet to my breast.

“And no one else so much as looks at you,” he warns, “Or this night in my castle will be their last.”

I nod.

“Okay.”

He’s possessive, overbearing, cocky. He wants my obedience.

I’ll never give it to him.

But this is a battle we’ll wage in the bedroom.