Honor Bound by Joey Hill (speld decodable readers .txt) 📕

his cheekbones painted with a ruddy flush, his beautiful eyes blazing with lust. ’Cestors’ bones, she was amazed at herself, but she wanted that huge, scarred body, wanted to climb inside his skin, make them one.

For the first time in her life, Amae took the initiative, rearing up to nip at his mouth.

“Roll over,” she panted. “Let me—”

“No.” He pushed her back into the pillows. “But you can watch now.” A feral grin. “I want you to. I’m a real man, Dancer. This is what a real man does for the woman he—”

Abruptly, he shifted, clamping his mouth around one nipple, strong fingers tugging and rolling the other. Amae’s head fell back as all the breath gusted out of her.

When he swapped sides, she sank her fingers into his shoulder, riding the swell of heat, the wet lightning between her thighs. “Please.” What she wanted him to do, she didn’t know, only that she had to have it—now!

Rhio released her nipple, licked all around the underside of her breast and nuzzled her meager cleavage. “You can scream, love. No one will hear you.”

The mists cleared enough for a glare. “Scream? A warrior of the Shar does not—Aaargh!

Rhio! ”

Her thighs fell open to accommodate the finger he’d slid deep inside her. His eyes fixed on hers, Rhio gave her that slow, serious smile and caressed her clit with his thumb.

Amae saw stars. When he twisted his finger gently, it flexed against a delicious spot she didn’t know she had.

“Ah,” said Rhio. “There you are.” A lock of hair fell over his forehead, but he didn’t notice.

He set up a slow in-out rhythm designed to drive her mad, increasing the pace only when she lost control and swore at him in Shar. Inexorably, he drove her up and up, while she shivered and shook and cursed, her hips lifting into his touch. Begging.

Amae knew what was coming; of course she did. But this was nothing like what she did for herself on her pallet in the dark, furtive, fast and frantic. This was a grand parade with drums and trumpets, a swelling chorus of erotic delight that drove her insane. She wanted the culmination with a desire beyond desperation, yet she couldn’t bear for it to end.

Because she’d never experience this again, never, ever.

Without missing a beat, Rhio licked around her areola. “Now,” he said with decision. On the word, he opened his mouth and engulfed as much of her small breast as he could, compressing the nerve-rich flesh between his tongue and hard palate.

Amae shrieked, every muscle in her body going rigid with the vicious snap and recoil of tension released. The world imploded, swinging from the heights to the depths and back again, at first so rapidly she couldn’t keep up, couldn’t predict, then more slowly as the aftershocks took her and she became aware of Rhio, swearing softly and continuously.

His pupils were so widely dilated as to make his eyes charcoal, almost black.

“Good?” he asked, his voice husky.

“Uh.” Amae stared, speechless.

The corners of his mouth tucked up. “I see it was.”

He leaned over to drop a kiss on her navel.

“Rhio, I—”

“Shhh.” A fraction at a time, he slid his fingers free, giving her the smallest, sweetest aftershock of all.

“Gorgeous,” he said. Lifting his glistening fingers to his mouth—how had she not noticed he’d added the second?—he licked them clean, as avidly as a hungry cat. “Delicious.”

The eyes must be falling out of her head, her cheeks incandescent with embarrassment and shock. “D-don’t,” she stammered. “Gods, no one does—”

He shot her a stern glance. “I do.”

Amae came up on her elbows. She studied his face, the flesh drawn tightly over the strong bones, the lines around his mouth. The smooth head of his cock was so suffused with blood it was very nearly purple, glistening with the evidence of his desire. Beneath, the pouch of his scrotum swung heavy and high, painfully swollen.

“You’re hurting,” she said softly. She smiled. “My turn.”

He fixed her with the type of frown calculated to terrify a raw recruit. “Not all men are like the bloody Trinitarians. You’re going to know that, believe it with every fiber of your being.” Without ceremony, he pulled a pillow out from under her head and tapped one hip bone. “Lift up.”

Oh, he wanted a better angle. Obligingly, Amae lifted and he shoved it under her.

Rhio pecked a kiss on her lips. “I enjoy this, Dancer. Do not think otherwise. In fact, I love it.”

“You’d be a strange man if you . . .”

He was kissing his way down her body—a quick, pulling suck for each nipple, a skim over her sternum, flutterbye kisses over her belly that made every nerve quiver, a nibble along her hip bone.

’Cestors, surely not? A Trinitarian would be appalled, disgusted. No longer worthy to be called a man, lower than a sewer snake—slave to a woman’s filthy desires. No, no there wasn’t a man born who’d—

Over the slight curve of her belly, their eyes met. Holding her gaze, Rhio pursed his lips and blew a stream of warm air over her clit. Every nerve in her pelvis convulsed with delight.

“Are you mad?” she gasped. “You can’t. I’m too, too—” She broke off, struggling to find the words.

“Mmm. You surely are.” Taking her knees in his big warm hands, he spread her wide. He gave the tender skin on the inside of her thigh a reproving nip. “Don’t wriggle. Fuck, you’re beautiful. Look at you, all bare. Showing me everything. Gods! ”

He ran his tongue in a broad, flat sweep from her clit to her perineum and back again.

Once, twice.

Amae choked, her head thrashing on the pillow. As the world slid sideways, she speared her fingers into his hair and gripped, double-fisted.

“Sweetheart, let go.” A pause. “Dancer!”

She cranked her eyes open to see his pained expression. Oh. She uncramped her fingers.

Another leisurely lick. “So I’m your first.” His eyes sparkled like a boy’s, the curve of his lips positively smug. “You’ve never had