Мэри Дэвидсон - Canis Royal Bridefight

He sat up, pushed her back, and without breaking contact—without slowing their thrusts—suddenly she was flat on her back and he was surging between her thighs, working over her, sweat shining on his forehead as he pumped into her.

“Lois,” he said huskily.

“Oh, God.”

“Poor Lois, you will have to take me for some time. I am far from release,” he chuckled.

She screamed as she came again, then locked her legs around his hips and thrust back at him. Her cunt was throbbing and even though she’d come twice, she wanted more, had to have more. “Oh, God, Damon, that’s so good. You’re so big and it’s so good.”

“Because of you, Lois.” He bent, kissed her softly, and when his fingers closed over her nipple and he pinched her lightly, she came again. “Only because of you.”

She lost count of her orgasms. Everything was his cock and her cunt and their thrusts, his hands and mouth, the way he whispered in her ear and the smell of their sweat, their heat. Finally she was clawing at his back and begging him to come, almost sobbing, and then his eyes rolled back and he thrust once more, hard, and then he was spurting into her.

He collapsed beside her, breathing hard, and they lay like that for quite a while. Then he pulled back, kissed her softly, and cleaned her. Thoroughly. With his tongue. She thought she was done, she thought it was impossible to have another orgasm, but when his tongue licked her out and swept over her clit, she thrust her hips toward his face and moaned at the ceiling.

“Oh, my Lois. I love that sound you make.”

“And I love your fucking tongue. God, Damon, you’re really something.”

“I am something,” he said, pulling her into his embrace and arranging the covers over them. “I am your mate.”

She was too tired to protest, and immediately dropped off into sleep.

Chapter 9

“Don’t get your hopes up,” she informed the king at lunch the next day. “I haven’t decided yet if I’m staying.”

The king frowned and opened his mouth.

“And don’t give me any shit about it, either. Damon and I have come to an agreement, and I don’t need you messing it up.” The sternness of her statement was ruined when she pressed her palm to the king’s forehead, checking for fever. “Are you sure you should be out of bed? You just got over being sick, then you had the Bridefight thing all morning yesterday—”

“I am well, Lois, do not fret.”

But clearly he enjoyed her fretting. This guy really needs a new wife , she thought, feeling a stab of sympathy. She knew, too well, what it was like to be lonely.

“Did you and our son spend a comfortable night?” he went on innocently.

“Knock it off; you’re about as subtle as a brick through a window.”

“Then all that yowling we heard was merely—”

“Do not finish that sentence if you don’t want my milk in your lap. If this is milk.” It was milk colored, but thicker, and sweet—it tasted like a cross between coconuts and chocolate. She was on her fourth glass. Damn , the food here was fine!

Damon strolled in on all fours, in puma form. After giving her the fuck of a lifetime (again), he had bounded out of bed and left on a hunt with his brothers. Lois had briefly considered getting up, then sanity returned and she had gone back to sleep for five hours. “Morning,” she said to him.

“Good morn, Lois. You are well rested and well fed?”

“Yes to both. Your dad’s been getting on my nerves, though.”

“I merely asked—”

“Don’t try to defend yourself, Sekar,” she snapped.

“Indeed,” Damon said, shifting in a blink from puma to man. He thrust his arms into the robe Zeka was holding for him. “You do not wish to brave my Lois’s wrath, my good father.”

“No, indeed not,” the king said with an admirably straight face. “What is this we hear about staying a day?”

Damon helped himself to a piece of bread from off her plate. “She has decided to stay for the day. Tonight she will decide if she will stay for another day. We will ‘play it by ear’.”

“I see.”

“And if you don’t like it, too damned bad,” she said smugly. Sure, it was a sop to her pride, but that was all she cared about. Shit, for years, her pride was all she had. And the fact that Damon knew it, and respected it, had scored about a million points with her. “How ‘bout that?”

“Hmph.”

“Which reminds me,” she said, staring at Damon’s legs when he sat across from her, “I’ll stay one more day.”

“One more night, at the very least,” Damon said, smirking.

Ooooh, if he wasn’t so good in bed…

Before she could give him a piece of her mind, a commotion at the archway at the far end of the hall caught his attention. “Ah!” the king said. “Our visitors have come at last!”

“What’s up?” she asked Damon.

“We have been awaiting these visitors from the far side of the SandLands. They wished to come for the Bridefight, but were too late, as you can see. We will clothe them and house them, and perhaps some will stay, and some will leave.”

“Oh. Well, that’s nice of you.”

“Visitors are treasured, as you have observed. And we have heard that at least two of these visitors came to our world as you did, Lois. Such people are always interesting.”

“Really?”

“Oh, yes. They tell the best stories. About auto-mobiles and gro-cery stores and the In-ter-net.”

“And their Survivor game,” the king added, “with all the folk on an island and whoever stays last gets treasure.”

Lois rolled her eyes, but stood to get a better look. There were a dozen of them, five men and seven women. They were wearing hooded robes the color of the sky. As they approached, they bowed deeply.

“Do not,” the king said mildly. “You have come far and are weary. Rest here as long as you wish.”

“Thank you, my good king. I am Themaya, and these are my companions. We regret our tardiness.” As one, they all threw their hoods back.

Lois shot to her feet so fast, she knocked the table over. The one on the end—almost as tall as she, with that same dark curly hair, only hers was streaked with silver, and— and—

“ Mom ?”

Gladys Commoner stared up at her. “Lois? Oh my God, Lois, is it really you, baby?”

“But you’re—”

Gladys simply stared, then held out her arms. Lois scrambled over the wreck of lunch and jumped down from the dais. In a moment she was in her mother’s embrace. “Mom, I can’t believe you’re here, how can you be here?”

Gladys laughed, though tears were trickling slowly down her cheeks. “Honey, I don’t have a clue. One minute I was driving to see your aunt, and the next I was in this weird desert with a purple sky, and Themaya and his band found me, and we’ve been traveling ever since. I’ve been here for ages and ages.”

I thought it was suicides, but it must be anybody who’s dreadfully unhappy. Unhappy at the exact right moment and the exact right time. Whatever it is, it’s a fucking miracle. “Mom, I can’t believe it, I can’t believe it. Oh, Mom, I missed you so much. When you—when you went away everything went bad for me. Everything.”

“Ah- hem .” Lois and Gladys looked up. The king was looking down at them, hands clasped behind his back. His gaze was direct, but very friendly. He was staring at Gladys. “Are we to understand that this good lady is your dam? That Lois gets her good blood from this lady?”

“Uh—yeah, I guess. Mom, this is King Sekar. And this is my—well, my husband, I guess, Prince Damon. Damon, Sekar, this is my mom, Gladys Commoner.”