₦airaland Forum

Ubiero:
Oh sugabelle,you just keep thrilling me.More than that,you keep tempting me.Your work surely deserves an award.

keep sweet-talking me like this, ubiero, and I might just get back to working on it! . Thanks a bunch for being thrilled and tempted - - I sincerely aim to please!

They were in his bedchamber now, but they were not alone. Waiting for them were two help maidens, who silently and reverently came to stand next to Kiandra. Realising that they were to UnCloth her, she lifted her arms and almost sighed with regret as the gorgeous gown seemed to be peeled gently from her very skin to which it had moulded itself. And leaving her in her slip, they both disappeared from the room.
  Marsh watched with an indulgent smile on his lips, which widened to a grin as, now that they were on their own, she refused to meet his eyes and instead looked about the room. It was large, well appointed, but simply furnished. He was king and could have had as lavishly decorated a chamber as he could have wished, but he preferred unfussiness, and quiet elegance was more suited to his taste.
  He made no attempt to close the gap between them, content to simply look at her as she stood there, vulnerable and somewhat frail in the light slip which hem swept the rug underfoot softly. How much she had suffered, he reminded himself, seeing the tightness drawing upon her sweet features. He sorely wanted to go to her, unpin her golden-brown curls and let it cascade to her slim shoulders, then carry her gently to the bed and make love to her more tenderly than he had ever made love to any other before. He could never make up for  her loss of her beloved home, but he would try. At least, he would make her forget; that he could do . . .
  He lifted hands to undo his silver breastplate, and his sudden movement seemed to startle her into looking at him, and the fright in her eyes pricked him.
  “I’m not going to eat you, Kiandra,” he snapped, suddenly losing his patience somewhat. Divesting himself quickly of the armour and then all his upper clothing, he stood there bare-chested, his arms thrown wide. “Look at me. Look at me!” he ordered again more sharply, and she forced herself to settle her eyes upon his half-naked frame.
  “Are we so dissimilar, you and I?” he asked in a more gentle tone, holding her gaze compellingly. “Or do I differ so much from your dear Leon?”
  Her eyes widened with surprise at the sound of that name on his lips. “I know how in love you two were – I know he is mad with looking for you now, wondering what must have happened to his beloved. I am not asking for such devotion from you. Not yet,” he added warningly.
  “But this is your fate, Kiandra. I, and only I, am part of your destiny, not any man from your past life. Your place is at my side now. Forever.” He was standing next to her now, his hand taking hers and placing it upon his left breast. “A heart beats underneath my skin, as yours does. And it’s blood that flows through my veins, surely as it does in yours. What ever else is different about us, it isn’t important. What is, is this.” With that, he tilted her face up to his and kissed her lingeringly. It was the gentlest, softest kiss he could manage, although his need for her raged within him like ten demons. He’d wanted her ever since that first kiss of their marriage, with the pungent taste of that drink of wine dyed upon her tongue. The Goblet of Love had worked its magic on him instantly it seemed, and it had echoed within her, or so he told myself. Hadn’t she smiled at him more than once during the gay ceremony? Hadn’t she danced willingly in his arms, even laughed with joy at the palace joker’s attempts to amuse her with his antics?  And as the night had worn on, had he imagined that she had mellowed toward him, softened even, so that when he’d led her finally from the hall, he’d had the distinct feeling that she followed him willingly? Where was the willingness now?
  Not letting himself think too much on this, he continued to kiss her, his hands reaching to pull the flimsy slip from her trembling frame. He could drown in the heady taste of her soft lips, but he longed to savour the sweetness of her creamy skin, to feel her own arms wrapped about him in answering desire . . .
  He stopped short when, his hands taking both of hers, about to wind them about his waist, he felt something cold within her fingers. Drawing back, he looked down and peeled back her tightly fisted left hand, amazed, then furious, to find a sharp, small dagger inside her palm.
  “The Forces help me!” he swore for the second time that day, as he snatched the offending blade from her, tossing it far into the blazing fire in the corner of the room. She must have sequestered it from the cutlery served along with her food at the wedding banquet, and his eyes were stormy with barely suppressed rage as he struggled with the urge to shake her till she rattled.
  “And what did you mean to do with that pitiful thing, my lady?” he asked mockingly through gritted teeth, his fingers all but biting into the skin of her slender arms. “Stab me in the heart?”
  He was done being gentle with her, he decided, as he swept her easily into his arms and practically flung her unto the waiting, capacious bed. He heard her whimper as she fought to sit up, but he was with her instantly, pinning her beneath him so that they were chest to chest, thigh to thigh. His green-gold eyes fairly blazed down at her as with one hand he fastened both her wrists high above her so that she lay helpless while his free hand tore to shreds the one last thing that shielded her from him.

@ ubiero,

if a complimentary copy is all it takes for me to repay u, then deal! . I'll be posting one more installment from the end (as in, where I've stopped). It's been weeks since I've written anything, but I'll take ur advice and chill out. Thanks again babe!

ibkaye:
Lol I feel so honoured

U deserve it babe, and thanx u guys for even taking the effort to look in and read the lengthy posts. It means a lot to a writer that the story is enjoyable to others, and I'm glad, so I'll keep u guys posted on its progress if and when I make any!

Her name was Shela, meaning sweet and biddable, and from her youngest years she had been schooled by her mother and then other mistresses on every forbidden pleasures there were in delighting a man. But all her skills fell to ashes underneath the mastery of Fen’s audacious lovemaking. Her moans and cries of bliss soon filled the candle-lit room as he turned her on her back and put his lips to her heated skin, suckling his way from her heaving breasts to her deep navel and then down to her now veritably volcanic core, where his lips and tongue worked such magic she would have erupted time and again if he didn’t always withdraw just at the right moment. He drove her to madness with the teasing play of his hands which worked in tune with his mouth upon her shuddering frame. His very passion amazed her, made her mindless with the force of it.
  “Lord Fen!” she gasped as he finally lifted himself over and into her, penetrating her with a swiftness and smoothness that had him buried deep within her in moments. “You are matchless, my lord, I could die right now if you moved, ,” she babbled almost stupidly as her climax fizzed close to the surface, ready to erupt with his next thrust. To her surprise, his large hand came up to close over her open mouth, silencing her.
  “Don’t speak,” he hushed her, his lips sliding down her neck to one throbbing nipple, “’Tis not your voice I want to hear.”
  His enigmatic words confused her, but she had no chance to dwell on them as, sure enough, he began to stroke in and out of her. And she couldn’t help herself, coming instantly as he pounded relentlessly deep against her very womb, her shrieks well suppressed by his hand, which he replaced with his mouth as he kissed her forcefully, giving her no time to recover as he took her with as much violence as he dared without damaging her. And she welcomed it all, recognizing the rage and fire that seemed to roar deep in his soul. She didn’t know what drove him so, but she understood it. And took all he had to give. She probably wouldn’t be able to walk the next morning, but it would be worth it . . .
  It was a long time before he was finally sated of his rampaging hunger, sinking against her sweat-slick frame, almost crushing her till, with difficulty, she moved him gently to one side as he seemed weakened now by the depth of his release, which had shaken both of them. She’d long lost count of the many times she had crested, and felt exhausted yet glad that she had satisfied him. She lifted herself on her elbow and with tender, light fingers, brushed the damp curls from his forehead as he lay next to her, his face in the pillow as his eyes fluttered closed. His cheeks were dusky with fatigue, and her heart melted for him. What he needed, she told herself, was a wife to care for him, to love him, to wait adoringly in his room every night for the sole purpose of seeing to his every wish . . .
  Her dreamy thoughts were broken by the sound of his lips moving. His thick lashes fell heavily over his shadowy cheekbones, and she knew he had to be asleep, he’d seemed so tired. Nevertheless, she leaned forward to hear his mumbled words, a small, motherly smile playing on her lips.
  “Kiandra . . . ”
  The smile slipped from her face at the sound of that name, and her eyes flew around the room, as if afraid anyone else might hear. Would it not mean the death of both of them if it were? She stared at him half in horror, half in sudden perception, as in his sleep he snuggled the pillow close to him, as if it were a dear lover. She bit on her lip, torn with sympathy and dread for him. If what she suspected was true, then there was a foreboding of danger for Fen, indeed for them all. With a deep, ragged sigh, she pulled the covers over them both, settling down beside him and praying to the Forces for the first time in her rugged life, that things would not go the way she feared . . .

ibkaye:
oh wow sugabelle, great work  

thank u, I appreciate it - and there's one more just 4 u . . .

Shela’s eyes hooded at the sight of his teeth sinking into the fleshy fruit, wishing for a moment that it was her skin into which he was biting at that moment. For long she had lusted for Fen, the King’s cousin and right-hand, a Jungle man of boundless courage and integrity. He did not prey on the palace wenches like the palace guards did every time they had the chance – and he could easily have had his pick of the lowly yet beautiful girls kept in the palace for their skills both in the bedchamber and in other areas. Shela worked mainly as the kitchen maid, mostly with the head baker with whom she assisted to make the bread and cakes served at the palace. But at night, she warmed the bed of many of the officers of the Lord Marsh’s guard. She had many conquests under her slim, flower-meshed belt, but one that she craved for, would give her eyeteeth for, was the dashing, elusive Fen Bold. He was almost maddeningly immune to her, had barely ever spared her a passing glance. But that had never stopped her from longing for him, as she did now.
She lifted a hand to run it tantalisingly over the silver torso of his armour. “I long to bring you the treasures my willing body can provide, Lord Fen, not trouble,” she informed him softly, watching as the juice from the peach spilled down one side of his mouth, and before he could wipe it away, she dived forward and pressed her tongue to lap at his silky, smooth skin, moments before he shoved her away roughly. “You try my patience, Shela,” he said in a tone that warned of impending fury, not looking at her. She followed the line of his gaze and saw that it was riveted on the king and his bride as they both came down from the royal platform to have their bridal dance, their final act before they would leave the festivities for the Lord’s bedchamber.
“Our Lord Marsh is happy tonight,” she reminded Fen almost angrily, indicating the now laughing couple as the groom spun his new bride across the floor to the lilting music, “Why can’t you?”
“I am happy,” he assured her in a tone so cold it chilled her blood, when at last he looked at her.
As if to appease his wrath, she quickly lifted up his cup to him, almost in supplication. “Then drink, and be merry. And later, come with me and taste of my own wine that bubbles between my thighs, just for you, Lord Fen. Only for you.”
He took the cup from her, his hand closing over hers as he took a deep drink, his eyes holding hers and making her breath catch in her throat. What a devil he was, she thought helplessly. Handsome and fine, yet with a gleam in his eye that told her he could be mean, very mean. It scared yet thrilled her. She would have him in her bed if it killed her, she vowed.
He still looked at her, or through her, she felt suddenly, as she reached for a jug and refilled the cup in his hand. He drank once more, his eyes narrowing with intent as he finally spoke. “Taste your wine,” he said on a grunt half-filled with humour. “You’ve bedded a palace poet of recent, I can avow, to be able to mouth such flowery lines.”
Shela didn’t mind that he was laughing at her, nor that he seemed suddenly quite drunk. She leaned forward so that her heavy, almost wantonly prominent breasts all but spilled from her open blouse, their dark tips visible beneath the fabric. His eyes narrowed even further at the sight of them.
“Maybe,” she shrugged, as she artfully allowed her blouse slip further from her shoulder to bare her smooth, satiny skin, aroused by the fact that he was still watching, that she had his full attention now.
“But tonight I desire a real man in my sheets, one that is all hardness and vigour. And I promise him a night of bliss and forgetfulness in return.”
At her words, he blinked, turning his head once more to the royal bride and groom as finally, they left the great hall to cheers from the guests, and something in his eyes made Shela wonder a little.
“Forgetfulness, yes,” he seemed to whisper under his breath, and only turned to face her when with her hand to his cheek, she drew his head down to hers and touched her soft, inviting lips to his. No male with Emerald blood in his veins had as yet been able to resist her kiss, and she was certain Lord Fen would be no different. In the room filled with many merrymakers, she danced her mouth against his till they were melted into one, and with a groan he finally crushed her generous frame to his.
“To your room. Now,” he said gruffly against her lips, and her eyes danced with glee as she jumped to her feet and without a word, she made for the exit, knowing he would follow soon enough.

maedan:
heyy. nice.

thanxx , coming from u.

Ubiero:
Pleaseeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee sugabelle,tell me who the author of the book is and suggestions on where i can get it.Would be very very glad if you could be of assistance.I mean, i'm practically drooling over the excerpts that i've read so far.

Drooling? , thanks a lot, I consider that a nice compliment. And as to who the author is and where u can get it, the answer is I am, and the book is quite unfinished and floating inside my computer . That's why I needed some feedback, to see if anyone would enjoy it apart from me. Truth is, NL is the first place that anyone has had the chance to even see the manuscript, and I'm glad u like it enough to want to get a copy. And to show u how grateful I am, i'm posting another piece, which is actually one of my favourite parts in the story. Enjoy.

Marsh and Fen were hunched over the massive table, poring over maps as they charted the route of the invaders spotted by several of their scouts in the last several days. In their realm as the Protectors of the sphere of earth, sky and sea, they were always susceptible to attacks and raids from the dark ones, who knew of this land’s new weaknesses as their female population and in turn, the number of their kind, diminished. But there had never been a loss of the count of men able and ready for battle. They lived long, stayed strong till the last day they pulled breath. They were more than equipped with warriors to defend their territory : and to save their globe from those who would seek to destroy it, or at least overcome and capture it, for their evil plans. The Emeraldom had always been a threat to such enemies of life, and these adversaries knew that if the realm was crushed, then there would be free rein for them to wreak their havoc. It could not be permitted to occur. Marsh knew it was up to him, and his faithful warriors and allies, to keep his kind, and all things living, safe.
Finally, he dispatched many of his best men to fend off the scavenging invaders before they came too close. This was no time for an all-out war – everyone understood that. But the dark ones were mainly cowards, and always fled at a sign of the might of the Protectors. Ignore their little pinching approaches, and it could be lethal. Many a territory in the realm had been ravaged by mistaking them for harmless nuisances. Most of their females were abducted or killed, and Marsh swore never to let that happen again.
Fen was to head the expedition, and as the rest of the men left the room, he turned to his cousin. Now they were alone there could be discussions of a more personal nature. It was true he had been away lately, on a reconnaissance mission of his own, and felt he had to be filled in before he had to go away again. He asked Marsh how the bridal preparations were going. To his surprise, Marsh flung a rolled-up map away in annoyance.
“You can bet I’m just sick of that topic! The Council pulling you one way, the analysts in another – I just wish never to have to be part of this ploy. Not again!”
Fen reached out to grip his wrist, questioning eyes meeting that of his Lord’s. “Because of what happened with Jem? But we know now this can never go wrong.”
“I don’t care! I still hate that I’m a part of this,” Marsh growled. “Hunting for a mate like some damned beast in heat. Why couldn’t we be bound to the other species of the realm? There’s the Aeregans, lodged in the firmament. Those would have been a higher, better selection.”
Fen shrugged. “We dwell more closely with humans, so I guess they seemed a reasonable choice. Is it that you do not take to your bride?” His face was slightly guarded as he asked this.
Marsh laughed harshly. “More like she’s hardly taken to me. Understandably, she wants no part in this scheme either. I knew from the start what a wilful woman she would be – “
“Which would only make her a better queen, and mother to your sons, and daughters if the forces favor,” Fen told him jovially, with a playful pat on his back. “Just remember, the soft touch always gets them melting in your hands.”
Marsh laughed deeply, his voice holding no meanness as he teased, “What do you know of women, Fen? You only care for battle, and for duty. I do think you’re still a virgin at your ripe age of a hundred.”
“Perhaps,” Fen smiled slightly, “It’s taken me that long to find my dreamkind. Farewell, blood. I leave your realm well.”
“And you shall meet it well,” Marsh gave the customary reply, as they both gripped the other’s right shoulder in parting. When Fen was gone, Marsh thought about his cousin’s deeply-cut words. A dreamkind was the woman etched in your essence, one you loved even before you met her, and recognized her when you did. She was like a cut-away part of a man that he could spend his whole life trying to find, to make him complete.
The strange thing was, a dreamkind could belong to more than one man. In their realm, it was an obligation and honor to share your female, and if your dreamkind was that of another man too, or many others, then there was nothing for it. Rarely, there was a fight for her hand, where she either made her choice, or they had to clash till death to win her.