Balfor's Salvation Read online

  Balfor appeared to be waiting for her reaction, so Stacia turned back to him and said quite honestly, “I’ve never seen a more beautiful room.” She’d grown up with more wealth than most people in Dome City, but life in the domes—especially under the rule of the Diakonos—meant some luxuries were very spare, even for those with the credits to afford them. The sheer size of the room was more than she was used to, much less all the wealth on display. The Temples had been grand and opulent, with marble and gold-gilt everywhere, but they’d been for display, not for living.

  Balfor’s smile suggested he was pleased with her reaction. “And what do you think of my bed?”

  She studied the mattress—not foam like she was used to, but most likely made of the same semi-firm stuffing that the mattress in the guest quarters had been made of. This bed was much larger, the platform beneath it was higher and carved with fantastical designs. It was a bit overwhelming. “It’s… nice.”

  “It will be much nicer with you on it.” His voice was a low rumble as he caught her by the waist and pulled her closer to him. His other hand lifted to touch her face, stroking her scarred cheek. His movements were so intimate that she expected him to kiss her when he bent his head towards her. Instead, he leaned his forehead against hers. The coarse strands of his hair fell forward and brushed her cheek. His musk filled her head with each breath she sucked in.

  Stacia tried to gain her bearings. She wanted him. There was no question about that. Her instant attraction to him was a little unnerving, but she’d felt a similar draw to Jack Caruthers at first sight as well. Nothing nearly as strong as this, though. “I’m not going to object to a second round, but I’m still not sure about this whole ‘concubine’ business.” Balfor wasn’t asking her for a quick and casual liaison. He expected her to commit to him, yet he was a complete stranger to her. He also seemed mercurial in temperament. After all that she’d been through, she felt like she needed someone steady and predictable in her life.

  His hand dropped from her face to the front frog closures of her high-collared tunic. She heard them snap as he broke them open without bothering to unfasten them. Her tunic parted enough for him to slip his hand inside. She gasped as his claws pushed aside the stretchy fabric of her bandeau and delved underneath it until his calloused palm cupped her already hard nipple. “An umbrose male does not toy with a female he has no intention of protecting and providing for. If you truly wish me to stop, then I will release you from my claim.” He lowered his head to suck and nip at her collarbone.

  Stacia lifted her hands, intending to push his head away, determined to make him keep his word by releasing her. Instead she touched his horns, stroking her fingers along the ridged length of them. Balfor chuckled against her skin as she moaned. She drew the fingers of one hand through his hair, enjoying the weight and texture of it against her skin.

  He lifted his head, much to her disappointment, forcing her to release him. Her skin felt heated and flushed where he’d nipped and sucked at her neck. His hand remained on her breast, teasing and massaging even as he watched her face. “I will ask you again. Do you accept my claim?” His eyes narrowed on her. “I will not be so forgiving in the future if you deny my rights after you’ve accepted me as your protector.”

  It was difficult to answer with his thumb flicking her nipple and his claws gently scraping against her skin. The heat of his other hand on her waist trapped her in place.

  “Why do you continue to hesitate? You cannot deny that you desire me, as I desire you.”

  She shook her head, gasping in delight when he moved his hand to her other breast, pushing the bandeau down until both breasts were bared to him. “It’s not that simple. You’re asking me for far more than sex. You said I would have to stay here in Sanctuary.”

  Suddenly, he dropped his hands from her and stepped away.

  Chapter 12

  Stacia nearly growled with disappointment at the loss of Balfor’s touch.

  “You find the idea of remaining in my city so objectionable, then?” Though his expression was neutral, his tension was visible.

  She sighed, realizing that she’d ruined the mood. He’d taken offense when she hadn’t meant it. “This has nothing to do with your city, which I’ve already told you is beyond awe-inspiring. Dome City is my home. You’re asking me to turn away from everything I know.”

  When he crossed his arms over his chest, the bunching of his impressive pecs and biceps made her appreciate the fact that he’d chosen the more traditional umbrose dress of only a loincloth. “What awaits you back in your bubble city? Is there a human male who dares to call himself your protector? If so, I will challenge him.” His feral smile was all teeth. “He will lose.”

  “This isn’t about another man. I’m unattached.”

  “Then what draws you back to that place?” He spread his hands out. “Surely there is more here for you in Sanctuary as my honored concubine.”

  She didn’t need to study his impressive physique or incomparably handsome face to know that nothing in Dome City could compare to him, but she certainly didn’t mind doing so. The fact that he was right—that there really wasn’t anything to return to—didn’t make her feel much better. He was giving her the option of returning to her cold and sterile apartment in a cramped and crowded city where she had no friends and the people around her would stare at her scars and never see the woman beneath them. Given how depressed the thought of returning home made her, she honestly had to wonder why she was hesitating.

  It’s not like a bond-mating. It’s not for life. He can revoke his claim when the relationship goes stale. In the meantime, I can live in this beautiful city near Lilith, and have Balfor in my bed every night. We both get what we want. “I accept your claim.” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. She wanted to kick herself even before the last syllable left her lips. It had been an impulsive response to her thoughts. She wasn’t certain she’d even intended to say the words aloud, but Balfor didn’t give her the opportunity to take them back.

  He was upon her in an instant. His arms came around her, and he lifted her up without any sign of effort and carried her to the bed. He shredded her clothing with his claws, all the while tasting what skin he exposed with hungry lips and tongue.

  Stacia’s mind turned to oatmeal under the onslaught of his heated mouth and busy hands. Rational thought abandoned her and her own hunger had her running her hands across any part of him she could reach. He felt different than a human, not just the obvious aspects like the bony spurs on his elbows or the horns on his head, but also the texture of his skin which was covered in very fine fuzz. Other than that, he had no body hair, not on his chest, arms, legs or even at his groin which sported an impressive erection. Even his phallus was different, the head broad and almost flat, the length smooth, without the sheath of flesh that human men had.

  Balfor seemed to appreciate when she gripped him there as much as any human man though, and when she took him into her mouth and sucked, his reaction was beyond what she’d hoped for. He actually roared loud enough that the bed beneath her shook. His hands fell to her head, his claws digging into her scalp until it was almost painful. She tried to release him, fearing for a moment that he didn’t like what she was doing, but his grip tightened.

  “Do not stop!” His voice was strained, and he followed his plea with a string of guttural syllables in his own language. “This is what humans do? No wonder your males tolerate such defiance from their females! Ranove did not tell me about this!”

  Stacia sucked harder, and Balfor’s comments became broken until he was simply moaning. She felt the tension in his shaft, the pulse of it as he neared climax. He tugged a fistful of her hair, trying to pull her away. When she resisted, he tugged hard enough to sting.

  “Not yet! Stop this now, before I—”

  After a few flicks of her tongue against the head that appeared to be as sensitive as any human male’s, while she stoked her hand along the length of him, he
climaxed, his seed pumping into her mouth with such force that she nearly choked before she managed to swallow.

  She allowed him to pull away from her, expecting him to collapse onto the bed, tell her she’d done a good job, and then drift off to sleep like most of her previous lovers had done. Instead, he glared down at her with irritation, and then his expression changed to one of wicked intent. Before she realized she was in trouble, he’d grabbed her and pinned her to the mattress.

  With a flick of his fingers, the shadows boiled at the edge of the bed. Then ropes snaked over the mattress and wrapped around her wrists and ankles. Stacia struggled against them, nearly as frightened about being exposed and vulnerable to him as she was by the way the ropes moved on their own. “Okay, I’m not really into bondage! Let me go!”

  “You’ve had your fun.” His grin of anticipation made her very nervous. “I will admit that I quite enjoyed it also. I suppose there are advantages to not having sharp teeth, though I never would have thought so before.” He leaned over her bound and naked body, and she caught sight of his shaft, still hard, even though only a few moments had passed since he’d spilled his seed. He didn’t look in the least bit inclined to drift off to sleep. His wings spread behind him to cast them into deep shadow, but still she saw his expression. His face was tense, his eyes narrowed on her, his mouth smiling in a way that made her shiver. “Now it is my turn. I’ve learned some of your body already. My duke’s instructions about human females proved to be accurate, but I prefer to do my own experimentation.” He kneeled between her legs, running his hands up and down her skin.

  “You don’t need the ropes.” Stacia tugged on her wrist, trying to break the very effective knot. The rope was woven of moonfloss so it didn’t chafe her skin, but she still didn’t like being bound.

  When Balfor lowered his mouth to her body, and started to slowly and tortuously taste and touch every inch of her, leaving the most aching part of her for last, she decided that being bound wasn’t all that bad in certain circumstances. Not long after that revelation, she stopped having any rational thoughts at all.

  Chapter 13

  Stacia discovered that Balfor had not been lying when he’d said that he intended to spend the rest of the day and the entire night reminding her of why she’d accepted his claim. Eventually he unbound her, but that didn’t stop either of them from exploring each other.

  He remained aroused even while they ate—unconcerned with the presence of the servants—though he’d given Stacia a soft woven blanket to cover her nudity when he realized it made her uncomfortable in the presence of others, and he covered himself at her insistence before the servants were granted permission to enter the room.

  It didn’t matter that she was wrapped in a blanket and had placed her veil on. She still felt embarrassed that the servants were left in no doubt as to what she and Balfor had been doing. Her own modesty surprised her, because she had not thought of herself that way before, but thinking back, she realized that despite her enjoyment of sex, she’d never really been comfortable with openly flaunting her liaisons. In the past, she’d blamed the strict rules and laws of the Diakonos for her discretion, but now she realized that she preferred to keep the more intimate aspects of her life to herself.

  The meal was huge, but Balfor’s patience was not. Before she’d finished the second course, he had pulled her onto his lap and was caressing her to distraction. By the third course, his hands had moved beneath the blanket to find the heat between her legs. She couldn’t even focus on eating when the fourth course came, because beneath the concealment of the blanket, he’d buried himself inside her.

  *****

  The night continued in that vein. Stacia found energy reserves she didn’t realize she had, and used more stamina to keep up with Balfor’s lust than she’d required even in combat. It helped that he fired her blood and kept her body wet and eager for his invasion. She wasn’t certain of the exact time when he finally tucked her against his side and urged her to sleep, but when she awoke, feeling sore but euphoric, he wasn’t in the bed. In fact, he was gone from the room.

  Crawling out of bed, she scrubbed her hands over her face and rubbed at her eyes. She paused in the middle of a jaw-cracking yawn, her fingers tracing over the scar on her cheek, then over her bottom lip to the scar beneath her chin. The area had hurt for so long during all the procedures and healing of the past two years that it felt odd to touch it now and feel no pain. She realized that she’d been avoiding touching it at all in the last few months, even after the doctors declared that it had healed enough to try more surgery.

  She worked her jaw in the exercises she’d learned in physical therapy. There was very little stiffness, even after her night of wild sex. The muscles and nerves responded just as well as they did on the unwounded side of her face. In that, the surgeons had been brilliant, returning full function to her jaw, especially given the artificial nature of the underlying structure. She’d expected achiness and stiffness for the rest of her life, but instead, after physical therapy, she’d regained the ability to speak, eat, drink, and do other things in a normal fashion.

  It wasn’t until this morning that she truly appreciated how lucky she’d been. She was alive and whole. She could still do all of the things she’d done prior to her near-fatal encounter with an adurian warrior. There were some who weren’t so lucky. She’d been avoiding life by hiding in her apartment and feeling sorry for herself. It had felt good to take a risk and be vulnerable and exposed for someone else.

  Her mind wandered from her scars to Balfor, even as she wandered from the large bedroom to the en-suite bathroom. There was a huge marble basin there that she fully intended to make use of before she summoned the servants to bring her breakfast.

  She thought about him while she opened the ornately-shaped metal pipe that poured water from the hot springs somewhere in the volcano into the basin. His interest in her baffled her, as it had from the start. She didn’t know why he’d asked for her by name to represent Dornan Industries. As for his sexual attraction to her, it was as confusing as her almost instantaneous attraction to him. He wasn’t the first man she’d ever wanted at first sight, but Balfor wasn’t human. His appearance should have been difficult for her to get past before she felt any desire for him. Yet that had not been the case.

  It was possible that Lilith’s relationship with Ranove—and the happiness it clearly brought her—made it easier for Stacia to accept the idea of a sexual relationship with Balfor. Or maybe he’s just really hot. That last thought occurred to her as she sank into the steaming water, almost too warm for her but feeling so good around her aching muscles. It was pointless to question why he attracted her when it was quite obvious that he did. The bigger question of why she attracted him might also be pointless. He’d made it very clear that she did. Whatever chemistry had happened to bring them together might never be explained. She could only wonder how long it would last. All of her previous relationships had failed in a relatively short time. Based on her experience, this wouldn’t last long either.

  There was a collection of clay and glass bottles on a tray set on the wide far edge of the basin. Stacia opened each bottle, sniffing them before dumping a bit of the liquid into her palm. They smelled like the fiery spice of Balfor, although they were missing that underlying musk that was entirely him. She made a guess about which one was soap and lathered it up to clean her skin.

  She was his concubine now. It wasn’t a position she ever imagined she’d find herself in. It wasn’t something she’d ever thought she’d agree to, but she’d blurted out her acceptance with an eagerness that embarrassed her in retrospect. The challenge before her seemed to loom with menace. The sex between them was explosive, but if she was going to spend any significant amount of time in Sanctuary, she needed more from him than sex. She needed them to come to an understanding, to know each other well enough that she didn’t worry about every word she spoke offending him, and vice versa. Somehow, that task seemed more daunting th
an anything she’d ever undertaken up until this point. What was I thinking? An image of Balfor naked and aroused came to her mind quite vividly. Oh yeah.

  *****

  Lilith came to her room along with her breakfast, and Stacia was so relieved to see her best friend that she almost knocked over the veiled servant who entered the room in front of Lilith. Ignoring the startled gasp from the servant, she flung her arms around Lilith’s shoulders, hugging her friend tight.

  Lilith hugged her back. “Are you okay?” Her tone sounded worried.

  Stacia released her and stepped back. She sighed, her expelled breath causing her veil to flutter and the jeweled golden chains on it to jingle. “I’m fine. Better than fine actually. I feel really… good.” A flush burned her cheeks as she admitted that while Lilith’s eyes narrowed on her.

  Lilith gestured to the blanket that Stacia had wrapped around herself and tucked in at one corner. “That’s an interesting new fashion.”

  Stacia laughed. “Yeah, I need to get ahold of my luggage. It was never delivered last night.”

  Lilith shook her head. “I’ll see what I can do, but knowing the umbrose, everything has probably been dropped off the landing platform. They don’t much like our fashions, and they hate the smell of our toiletries and cosmetics.”

  “Not my shoes!” It wasn’t a shallow concern—though Stacia did love her shoes—but more than that, she felt considerably more vulnerable while barefoot. Right now, she needed any fortification she could get, even the armor of a pair of low-heeled Oscar Winston knee-high boots.