Daryk Warrior by Denise A. Agnew Page B

into her core the shock and
pleasure of that deeply personal touch made the pleasure that much more
amazing. She clutched at his shoulders, the only lifeline in her body’s desire
to tear her to pieces. Deep within he stroked and one flick and then another
over her bud made a rush of moisture flow. She squirmed, caught up in craving
she wanted desperately and couldn’t escape if she’d wanted to.
    He leaned into her, his body surrounding and protecting as
he whispered, “That’s it, Mia. Take it.”
    He slid one finger inside her again and pressed as deep.
    As if he’d given her final permission to break free, her
body erupted into shaking, trembling with bliss. She barely stifled a cry,
holding the moan inside as pleasure rolled through her in a beautiful wave she
didn’t want to end. She leaned her head on his shoulder, quivering as delight
went on and on. Her pussy contracted over his finger, gripping it as the
ecstasy went on and on.
    His fingers tangled in her hair. His palm traced over her
head in a gesture so tender she couldn’t believe it came from such a man.
    The continuing ache between her legs and the moistness there
signaled arousal. She knew it and couldn’t deny it. She couldn’t believe what
they’d just done.
    Eryk pulled away. In their small space his eyes continued to
spark red, his mouth tightened, his nostrils flaring. She knew on instinct that
he needed more. In a wave of certainty, she knew she could give it to him right
here and now if she took one step closer and said yes. Instead he shook his
head as if he’d read her mind. He took one step away then two in the narrow
enclosure. In haste she refastened the tunic where he’d pulled it open.
    “Come, let’s go.” He held out his hand.
    She stared at it for a long time before she put her hand in
his. “Where are we going?”
    “Lodging for the night.”
    His clipped response didn’t tell her whether he regretted
what happened or not. Though why would he? She’d heard that men claimed to
possess strong sexual needs.
    Emotions rioted through Mia as she allowed him to lead her
through the crowd. Heat ambushed her face. Her lips felt full, nipples still
tight, tingling and poking against her tunic. Her lower body throbbed, a hunger
remaining. Despite the pleasure that had torn her apart and brought her back
together, Mia imagined what she’d experienced under his touch paled in
comparison to what she’d feel with his cock inside her. Cock. Yes, she’d heard
the word uttered before and read it. Only Scribes could know the truths of
lovemaking and hide them from others. Or at least pretend that they didn’t
exist. As they maneuvered through the courtyard toward a tower, doubts slammed
her.
    What had she been thinking, allowing him liberties? No woman
from Magonia would allow any man intimacies unless he was her husband. She
halted the thought. True, she hadn’t abandoned all her Magonian ways of
thinking when she arrived in Dragonia. Yet she didn’t have to follow the rules
the way she’d done before to stay safe from punishment. Freedom offered
opportunity while also scaring her to death. Shame mixed with the awe of
discovery. Her mind felt clouded and yet alive, full and yet open to learning
more. Vitality swamped her head to toe as if she might split apart in little
places if Eryk touched her again the way he did in the alcove.
    They arrived at a wooden door near a tower and Eryk pushed
it open. Inside the room it was darker and she blinked to adjust her eyes.
Behind a tall counter a small old woman sat. A thick head of dirty gray hair
was piled upon her head in a bun. Her features were sharp and thin but Mia
thought she’d been pretty at one time.
    The woman smiled brightly. “Eryk, how good to see you again.
What has it been? Two weeks at least?”
    He smiled brightly. “At least. Finny, this is Mia. We need a
room.”
    Finny’s blue eyes sparkled with amusement. “Longer than an
hour, I presume.”
    Heat reignited in