The Highest Bidder Read online

  He stopped while she came. Then, after she caught her breath, he lapped away her release and kissed a moist path along her inner thigh. Brenin climbed down from the table. He paced for a moment. She watched him when he stood at her side and stared down at her. The evidence of what he had done shimmered wet and shiny on his chin and cheek.

  He reached for her hand.

  She took his in hers. Slowly, he guided her palm to his scarred cheek. “How did that happen to you?” she asked.

  He closed his eyes and leaned into the table. “My scars are old. They’re from a time when I was part of the light, like you.” His hand felt warm over hers. The passion lingering in her body gave way to euphoria. Shenya wanted to fall asleep in his arms and spend the rest of her days by his side. She wanted to know him. She needed to see inside his mysterious heart. Drawing him back to the light tempted her, but she didn’t know if she was capable of such a miracle.

  Chapter Four

  Night fell across the land, bathing the sky in twinkling stars. The three sister moons heaved up over the distant horizon to make their usual journey. Shenya stood at the top of the highest tower, Brenin at her back. His arms held tight about her waist, locking her to him.

  “I like the night best,” he said. “The dark appeals to me, the silence, the coolness.”

  “I like the day.”

  “Of course you do.” He ran his lips across her neck, sending prickles over her skin. “They taught you to fear the night. They changed you.” A heated kiss left her shuddering. Another. One more. “I will teach you to love the night, Shenya, and to love me.”

  “Love you,” she said in awe. “It is not allowed for an Othian chosen to love. I am made to bear offspring, to make more followers of the god.”

  His right hand traveled to the side slash on her dress and dipped past the fabric. “You were made for more than that.” His fingers drew lines across her abdomen. She knew the marks, the same as the ones drawn into her skin. “They marked me too, Shenya. But I wouldn’t let them change me.”

  “Wouldn’t let them? What do you m—”

  His fingers slipped down into her slit, parting her folds. One danced across her clitoris. She couldn’t form words such was the intensity of his touch. His left hand shifted until he cupped her breast. Pinching, his fingers teased her nipple into a hard point.

  “How many?” he growled in her ear.

  “H-how m-many what?”

  “How many men did they force you to take into your bed?”

  She swallowed. Her thighs began to shake. “Men. No men. I’ve never been with anyone until now—until you.”

  He pushed her forward, pressing her body alongside the embattled parapet. His hard cock jutted against her soft butt. He ground into her, his fingers thrummed, and the kisses on her neck became urgent.

  Shenya whimpered.

  Brenin withdrew and took a few steps back.

  She faced him and frowned. The night changed his appearance. His eyes shimmered in the dark. His face looked sinister in its shadowed, handsome sharpness. “I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”

  She shook her head. “Were you an Othian initiate?”

  Brenin sighed. He combed his fingers through his thick hair and started for the stairwell. “Come to bed, little one. It’s been a long first day for you here. Sleep will do you good.”

  “Were you?”

  But he ignored her and went down into the tower’s throat.

  A cool breeze gusted across Shenya’s heated skin. Any true Othian priestess would have thrown herself off the high tower. Better to face death than be claimed by a man who wasn’t worthy. She had a feeling the words he held back were dangerous. Shenya had to know more about him, so she followed.

  The candles in the stairwell flickered, most down to the ends of the wicks as it was. Her footsteps barely made a sound as she hurried to catch up to him. “Wait. Don’t get so far ahead.” Shenya rounded a turn and Brenin stood lingering, his shoulder leaned up against the black stone wall.

  “You will sleep with me every night I’m here.” It was an order, not a request. He spoke with the authority of a person used to power and accustomed to no arguments.

  “All right.”

  He pushed off the wall and linked his arm with hers. “And when I am away, you will see to the workings of the keep. Sometimes, I’m away for days. Sometimes, months. I never know how long my duties will take to complete.”

  “Are you an assassin?”

  He sucked in a dry breath, ignoring her question before he went on. “You will learn the lists, the tallies, and the schedule of trades and farming. Being a former initiate, you will know how to do many of these things already.”

  “Former?”

  “That’s right. You don’t wear the garb now and as long as you’re mine, you never will again. A man marked with the symbol of undesirable has touched you in an unholy way. It’s only a matter of time before you realize you do not belong to Othia.”

  “Wait.” She halted. He took another step and they both nearly fell. When Brenin righted himself, he gave her a cold stare.

  “Undesirable?”

  “That’s right.”

  “I want to see the mark.”

  His grin spread wide. “And I want to show it to you. Come to bed as I said, and you can trace the runes with your fingertips or your tongue—both if it pleases you.”

  Heat spread up her neck to flush her face.

  “So innocent.” He sighed. “I remember innocence. It has been away a long time from Bisura and my keep.” He touched his thumb to her lower lip and ran it back and forth, his eyes lowered. “I want to taste your innocence and savor it.” He bent his head. His nose touched hers. His tongue darted out to test her upper lip.

  She smelled wine on his breath and the musky odor of her sex from what he had done in the dining room. Shenya inched closer, curious.

  Brenin pulled back with a smile. He led her down the rest of the stairs to the hall. His reluctance to share information and his halting taunts on her body kept her on edge. When he pushed open the door to his lavish bed chamber, Shenya began to understand him. Red brocade curtains hung across the bed and over the sides of the window. From any vantage in the room, the window itself was the focal point. Stained glass set with lead and schematic diagrams tracked each path of each of the sister moons. But the most disturbing thing was the center panel which showed the fall of the first moon, Ishas.

  Shenya jumped when the door clipped shut behind them. Brenin set the lock and pulled off his vest. “You know what I am now, don’t you?” His eyes searched her face. His grim frown revealed his angst and doubt.

  “You worship the fallen goddess.” She gulped down a wave of fear for the goddess was known for her manipulative ways, her evil tendencies, and her darkness. She was the exact opposite of Othia. “But this is Bisura. No one worships her here.”

  “I worship who and what I choose.” He unlaced his shirt and tossed it aside. As she had imagined, his chiseled chest proved enticing. Brenin strode to the bedside where he sat to take off his boots. “Are you tired?”

  She shook her head.

  “Neither am I.” His boots off, he stood and unbelted his pants. When he pushed them down, revealing his naked body, she caught a glimpse of the tattoos etched into his skin. Just above the curled hairs at his crotch, an Othian priestess had drawn in his worth. Shenya wanted to read each symbol.

  Brenin held out his hand. “You said you wanted to see.” He waved at her to come closer. “My body is yours to discover as you choose.”

  She tried not to stare at his cock, flaccid but long. Numb at the prospect of his offering himself to her, she took timid steps until she stopped before him. Shenya marveled at the oddness of his eye color before she knelt to read what the Othian Temple had done to Brenin.

  “Forbidden,” she read in a hushed tone. “Cursed to darkness. Not of the light. Not of Othia. Undesirable.”

  His fingers lowered to her lips. Beneath her chi
n, his cock jumped and thickened. “There is more she wanted to write, but when she told me I would need to be castrated, I took hold of the stylus and stabbed her with it.”

  She raised her face. “You stabbed a priestess.”

  Solemn and with a hint of bitterness, Brenin went on. “I did. She gave me this.” He turned his face to the side, indicating the scars. “And if I didn’t submit to the castration, she would have had me offered up as sacrifice to the god.”

  “Who was this priestess?”

  Brenin held his hand out to Shenya. She placed hers in his. He pulled her fingers close and set them on his length. “I want to feel you against me,” he said. “My past is ugly and twisted. I don’t want our time together to be like that.”

  Wrapped in her hand, his cock felt velvet soft on the outside and rigid within. He guided her hold back and forth in slow strokes. Skin slid and glided while his sex grew longer and wider. She couldn’t imagine how it would fit inside the small hole she knew it was intended for or how sex wouldn’t hurt. Being here in his bedroom meant she would be expected to submit to his will, and so far, his will was lusty and primal.

  “What does sex feel like for a man?” she asked.

  He stopped directing her hand. Placing both palms on Shenya’s shoulders, Brenin moaned. “It feels good, but sex has to have meaning—at least for me.” He nodded to the bed. “All things in life have meaning if one cares to read into what happens.”

  She stood up and sighed when he embraced her. “The gods have sent you to me to right the wrongs I’ve endured. It was a priestess of Othia who tried to destroy me, and it will be an initiate of Othia that will teach me to forgive.” The clasp at the back of her dress came undone with the tug of his fingers. Being a simple garment, the fabric fell at her feet. Bare against him, she felt protected and warm. Everywhere their skin touched, Shenya felt the blaze of passion ignite. But she should not give herself to him if the Othians forbade it. The possibility of a child with both light and dark powers blended together would be a danger, an abomination.

  “The priestess that did this to me was called Haen.”

  Shenya shook her head. “No. It can’t be true. She was a kind woman.”

  “What would you know of your former mistress? She had many secrets she kept. Countless lies. I was but one of them.”

  “You?”

  “She was my mother, Shenya. My own mother. Yet she wanted to cut off my manhood and leave me childless, shunned. She hated me. She hated me for who and what I am.”

  Her heart beat fast in her chest.

  He pulled her onto the bed atop him. “Make me into the truth.” His fingers curled at the back of her head as he smothered her lips in a kiss.

  Chapter Five

  His kiss stole her breath and sent her racing mind into a blank state. All of Shenya’s awareness focused on the naked body beneath her, his hard muscles, his swollen cock, the wet pressure of his lips, and sudden invasion of his tongue in her mouth. She kissed back, tasting him. Frozen in the newfound state of closeness, she tried to keep up with his more experienced passion. They kissed until she learned how to do it right. Soon after, Brenin turned her onto her side. He swept his hand along her body while staring into her eyes. “I’ll make you want me.”

  “I already…”

  He smiled at her unfinished confession. “Our world is at odds with itself, Shenya. The very gods battle above while we suffer to understand and find our paths below.” He thrust his hips. His cock slid between her thighs and slipped across the wetness of her pussy. She shuddered. “Do what feels right to you.” Brenin’s hand caught hold of her left breast. He kneaded her flesh and teased at her nipple every so often.

  Desperate moans passed her lips. She couldn’t resist, didn’t want to escape his closeness. Back and forth he stroked his thick cock between her thighs. Each pass made her clitoris more sensitive. She arched in time with his teasing to give his body better access to hers. “I want you,” she murmured. “I want to feel you inside me.”

  He groaned and went faster. “Not yet. Not this night.”

  His thumb and forefinger clamped onto her nipple. With a twist he wrenched free a lusty cry from her throat. Her pussy throbbed. Her legs shook. A powerful orgasm ripped through her body. Liquid heat spread over her inner thighs as Brenin shot his essence across her skin. Both struggling for air, they stopped their harried rhythm and held to each other.

  “Why don’t you claim me?” she whispered against his cheek.

  “I leave tomorrow morning. When I come back I’ll spread you wide and fill you. As many times as you ask. As many times as you need.” He licked across her lips until she opened her mouth to receive his tongue. Both battled and twisted until he withdrew. “Up on the tower. Here in my bed. On the rug by the fire in the dining hall.”

  She bit at her bottom lip, overwhelmed by his desires. “I don’t think I can keep up with you.”

  A faint sparkle of light flashed in his eyes. “You can. You’ll learn. We have so much time, Shenya. The rest of our lives.” He folded his arms around her and pushed her face against his chest. “I’ll draw the light of Othia out of you.”

  His words sounded cryptic. She wanted to counter them and promise to lead him to the light of her god, but his confession about Assantra Haen’s cruelty made her second guess all she had believed in and trusted.

  Brenin’s hold eventually waned when he drifted off into sleep. She remained at his side, her arm over his waist, her other hand resting atop his chest, the thrum of his heart steady under her palm. His release dried on her skin. She would need to bathe in the morning.

  She lay awake long into the night. The sister moons shined through the stained glass and sent colors across Brenin’s naked body. He muttered in his sleep, but she couldn’t make sense of anything he said. Brenin was a mystery, a dark secret. She imagined he must be made purely of lust and passion like a demon of sorts, a temptation. Despite her training at the temple, and even in light of his disturbing revelation about his past, she didn’t want to escape from the keep or him.

  She slept well in his arms and woke alone in his ornate bed when morning came. The scent of his skin on the linens made her feel acutely alone for the first time in her life. Shenya pulled the coverlet from the mattress and draped it around herself to stay warm. Before now, the temple had provided all she might want or need. Her life had been decided and she had always been comfortable in the path that lay ahead of her. She pushed off the bed and went to the great window to trace the leaded lines there. In all her time at the temple, no god or goddess had spoken to her. She questioned now if either truly did exist. What if the sun was just a fiery light in the sky and the fallen moon a fairy tale written by a parent to scare children into submission?

  Beyond the stained glass she saw sheep hurrying through the pasture, chased by a lone black dog. She marveled that there were only the two servants in the whole of the keep. Lazy clouds rolled across the blue sky and Othia shone bright.

  “I am to take you to bathe now.”

  Shenya turned to face the shrouded yeinei servant. “Yes, thank you.”

  “Brenin also said that I am to take you to the library afterwards and show you the lists.”

  Shenya nodded and followed when the woman started down the hall. She watched the sway of the body hidden within a layer of beige and wondered why the yeinei covered themselves. “Does Brenin make you dress like that?”

  “No, lady. It is the yeinei’s sacrifice to give up who we are in order to become someone else when our service ends.”

  They entered the bathing room. Shenya sat at a bench and watched the servant draw the hot bath. “I don’t understand. Who do you become?”

  The yeinei raised her veiled eyes. “An assassin. A woman of the yeinei tribe does her father an honor when she sells herself into servitude for seven years to pay for her schooling in the assassin’s guild. When I take off my veil, no one from my past life will remember my face. It is the perfect guise.�
��

  A sharp twinge of foreboding settled in Shenya’s stomach. “You want to be an assassin?”

  “Of course, lady. It is a high distinction to follow in the footsteps of my tribe.” She waved her hand at her. “Undress. The water is ready.”

  Shenya dropped the blanket on the bench.

  The yeinei stepped aside. “Your marks are the same as Brenin’s.” She nodded at the tattoos.

  “No, not the same…exactly.”

  “But they were made by the same artist. I recognize the flourish.”

  “The same artist, yes. That’s true.” The hot water made her skin tingle when she sat inside the tub. She imagined the Assantra tapping the ill fated words into Brenin’s skin and the cruelty that followed. Her marking ceremony wasn’t like what he described at all.