Episode Thirteen The Game

N adira

Fate, the gods, whatever you want to call it, has never smiled on me. From the early loss of my mother, to my father's callous treatment, to being sold to the highest bidder as a wife, I haven't been blessed with an easy life.

Just as I was making peace with my new circumstances, beginning to feel affection for the monk I now find handsome, life hands me another blow. I'm going to be forced to have three mates.

Azael is kind and caring. I can think of far worse things than being his mate. He's been nothing but patient and has made no secret he's happy I'm here.

But two new mates? What will they be like? I read enough of what the government thinks is going on Down Below to have an idea of what I'm in for. Up Above calls them mutants or monsters. I'm sure I won't be as lucky with the next two as I've been with Azael, especially because of how I'm going to choose them. But I'll worry about all of that later.

Right now, it seems imperative for me to grab what I want for the first time in my life. What I want is him .

"Azael, can you carry me home?" I ask, unable to maintain eye contact.

"Are you not feeling well, mate?" he asks, his tone brimming with concern.

A pang of surprise flies through me, followed quickly by a painful feeling of unworthiness. Azael's words were so calm, they flowed so easily from his lips. Concern and compassion come naturally to him. To me, someone who has never felt cared for by another person in my life, I feel as if my world has turned upside down by his simple act of kindness.

I'm so stunned I quit walking as I process what seems so monumental to me and so inconsequential to him.

Since I can't put any of this into words right now, I lift my hands to him like a toddler and he easily picks me up. I wiggle in his arms until we work together to get me onto his back.

"Should I run, Nadira? Get you to the medic right away?"

Now that I'm behind him and he can't see my face, I tell him, "No hurry. Let's take our time."

"You sure?"

"Yes." Oh, yes, Azael. Very sure.

At first, I ride him quietly, my arms hanging over his shoulders as I grasp my hands under his chin. We've known each other for weeks now. Every morning, I wake up with him naked in bed with me. Why has it taken me this long to realize his body is like fur-covered marble? Every muscle is sculpted into rippling perfection.

It's deep into fall, but the sun is still bright and Azael's body is like a furnace. It's no hardship at all to pull up my tunic. Then I wriggle his tunic up to his neck and plaster myself to his back. He immediately stiffens and stops moving.

"You're so warm, Azael," I whisper into his ear. "I just thought I'd borrow some of your body heat."

He's remains statue-still for a moment, then grunts and takes off at a faster pace.

"My nipples aren't bothering you, are they?" I ask innocently as I lean back far enough to trail them up and down his back. "I wouldn't want to distract you."

"N-no," he says, his voice choked.

This brings a smile to my face. My normally talkative mate is reduced to monosyllables.

"No, my nipples aren't bothering you or no, I'm distracting you?"

"Yes."

Oh, this is fun. I've never had fun with a man before.

He's jogging now, which is no fun at all.

"Slow down, Azael," I urge. "Can't I take all the time I want to tease my mate ?"

I know what I just said. It's the first time I've ever called him that. He makes a sound between a pant and a grunt as he slows his forward motion.

"Teasing?"

"Yes. See, this," I jiggle my breasts side to side, "is designed to catch your attention."

"My mate is smart. She definitely has my full and complete attention." His voice is tinged with humor now that he knows what I'm up to.

"I was practically blind when we were mated, Azael. One eye was swelled shut, the other was filled with terrified tears. At night and in the mornings, I haven't looked at your naked body, not wanting to intrude. I can barely remember what you looked like the night you saved my life."

"Hold me tighter," I urge. As soon as he reaches behind, his hands gripping my ass, I slip my arms lower and slide my palm down his chest, past rippling abdominals, between his waistband and his fur, and find his hard-as-stone member. I bite my lip to suppress a moan. My fingers don't meet as I try to circle his rigid length.

"What do you call this?" I ask innocently as I grip him firmly near the root.

"Ck." His mouth was so dry he didn't get the word out. "Cock."

"Cock, hmm?" I skate my fingers up and down so softly it can barely be described as a touch. "Shall I tell you what I feel, mate ?"

I don't know whether his shiver is a result of my use of his favorite word, or because my fingers are grazing along his pulsing shaft.

He nods and manages to walk even slower.

"Soft on the outside. Like a fabric from Up Above called velvet."

"Velvet," he says, warming to my game. "Like the inside of your wet channel? So soft a male could die for just one slide into its warm depths."

His comment makes my stomach swirl and swoop. This game I've made up is nothing short of delicious.

"Yes, I imagine that's right. Your cock…" He likes that word coming from my mouth because it jerks in my hand. "Your cock is velvet on the outside and hard as polished steel underneath."

To prove my point, I grab him more firmly and move the upper flesh over the rigid structure underneath. This garners me an appreciative grunt.

After another languorous journey from root to tip, I place my lips at his ear and suck in a breath. He rewards me with a muffled groan.

"Do you know what I go to sleep wondering lately?"

"No, Nadira. Tell me." His deep voice vibrates through me.

"It's when my back is pressed to your front and your arm is so sweetly tucked around my waist. I lie there for long minutes wondering if you'll ever pretend you're asleep and let that hand sweep upward to pluck my nipples."

"Mmm."

"Or if it will accidentally wander lower and slide between my legs."

"I've been thoughtless," he murmurs. "If only I could have read your mind."

"I know. Then, as I drift closer to sleep, I wonder what you'll taste like. Here."

I slide my palm up so firmly I think I'll be guaranteed a few drops of his seed when my fingers reach his tip.

"Yes. Look at this. Look at what my mate produced just for me."

Gone are his excited grunts. Now he's gifted me not just with a fingertip full of his liquid, but a poignant groan of desire.

"Let me just…" I flick his earlobe with the tip of my tongue, then lick his essence off my finger.

Now it's my turn to groan for him.

"Oh, Azael, look what you cooked up for me. So yummy. It tastes like the outdoors and sunshine with a hint of woodfire. Are you going to make me wait to get home before you give me some straight from the source?"

He stops walking, grunts, pulls me off his back and sets me on the ground, all without causing me a moment's fear or pain.

"Is this what you want, mate? Do you want me to take you on the forest floor? Right here?" His blue eyes are blazing with lust. I know him so well, I don't worry for a second that he'll ever touch me in a way I don't want. "Do you want my cock in your velvet channel right this moment?"