Lacey Thorn - Island Guardians 03 - Washed Away.doc Read online

  “Yes!” she screamed, not caring who was still around and might hear her, hear them. The tent was thick with the sound of their heavy breathing, the harsh slap of flesh against flesh as he rode her to completion. “Drago! Drago!” she screamed his name, careening over the edge of the abyss that was her orgasm. Tossed and tumbled in the drowning waves of pleasure that overtook her, consumed her and left her hungry for more, she heard his harsh grunt behind her and felt the swell of his cock as he found his own release and filled her with hot spurts of his rich seed.

  He stopped and she cried out at the loss. “No! Don’t stop! I need more!”

  He pulled out of her and she turned around, coming up to her knees in front of him. He was panting for breath, sweat dripping from his brow and coating his chest with a light sheen. His cock hung between his legs, already softening with its pleasure. She felt like crying, so desperate was her need. Instead of sating her, the orgasm he had given her had only increased her hunger, amplified her need.

  There was a tug on the opening of the tent and by the luck of the goddess Ulrik filled it. Not giving him a chance to do anything other than close the flap behind him, Willow attacked. She pushed him to his back and easily straddled his hips, grinding her slick pussy against his burgeoning erection. She bent down and took possession of his mouth, eating at it with her own until he opened to her tongue play with a harsh groan of pleasure.

  Pulling reluctantly from his kiss, she worked her way down the taut column of his neck with nipping bites and erotic flicks of her tongue. She drew her nails over the wide spread of his shoulders and down over his chest, leading the way for her trailing mouth. She stopped to bite and suck at the twin points of his nipples, driving him wild while her hands made quick work of his belt and laces. Then she was trailing her tongue over his rippling abdomen, leaving a trail of moisture behind while she worked him free and took his huge cock into her hands, stroking and squeezing it.

  Ulrik groaned at her intimate touch along his swollen staff. He had listened to the sounds of her and Drago and had waited as long as he could before making his excuses and joining them. He didn’t know what his brother had done to turn their Willow into such a sexual creature but he hoped that it happened again and again. She was a wild thing, ravenous and needy for him, his body, his mouth, his cock. He gave a startled cry when she bent and sucked him greedily into the hot, wet recesses of her mouth with a natural motion that robbed him of breath and thought, taking him all the way into the back of her throat and swallowing. The sweet contractions clamped around him and had him thrusting his hips up off the ground without thought for anything but finding more of the pleasure she offered.

  He cried out with frustration when she pulled away from him, removing the wet heat of her suctioning mouth off his cock. She smiled wickedly down at him before moving back up his body and taking his swollen shaft back in her hand and guiding it into a hotter, wetter, tighter cavern. He felt his eyes cross when she slammed her hips down, spearing her slick flesh on his cock before slowly gliding back up only to slam down again.

  “Who taught you to suckle a man like that, Willow?” he demanded, angry at the thought of her doing something so pleasurable with anyone other than him or Drago.

  “No one taught me, my warrior,” Willow breathed as she rode him, her sex clasping him tightly. “But I have watched as others have treated a warrior to the pleasures of oral stimulation. Did you not enjoy it, Ulrik?”

  “Aye, woman,” he grunted, thrusting higher, deeper inside her. “You know that I did.”

  Willow laughed softly. She felt power like she had never known, the power of a woman in control of both her own and her warriors’ pleasure. That power brought its own sense of satisfaction as it flowed through her veins. She plunged up and down on Ulrik’s cock, gaining momentum with every stroke until she was a whirlwind of continuous motion, rising and falling faster and faster. She felt Drago move behind her and she braced her body back against his chest, using him to help her ride Ulrik’s mighty shaft. She felt her pleasure building, the waves cresting higher and higher inside her, urging her to the waiting tidal pool that sought to suck her under, drown her in pleasure. She heard Ulrik’s cry from beneath her but couldn’t stop her fast pace.

  She cried out her frustration as she absorbed the hot spurt of Ulrik’s cum but still couldn’t reach her own release. She needed more! She needed everything! Drago wrapped his arms around her and pinched her nipples just hard enough to cause a slight sting, sending a stream of pleasure down into her belly. When Ulrik used his hand to manipulate the swollen bud of her clit and pinched it with the exact same intensity as Drago that stream of pleasure burst deep inside her.

  She came with a harsh cry, throwing her head back against Drago’s chest, reaching back to wrap her arms around his neck and bring his mouth down to her. She kissed him eagerly, meshing tongues and teeth as she tried to share her pleasure with him. She could feel Ulrik spurting more seed into her womb as her pussy convulsed around his cock, nursing it for any last drops.

  She slowly relaxed against them, dropping from Drago’s embrace to land softly on Ulrik’s sweat-slicked chest. Drago collapsed beside them just as out of breath from what he had watched as from what he himself had enjoyed. Ulrik leaned down and kissed Willow softly on the lips and she gave a contented sigh and snuggled down into him. He and Drago shared a look that spoke clearly of just how lucky they considered

  themselves to be mated to such an incredible woman. She would meet every need they had with her body and probably demand more, as she had just done.

  “When do we leave for your village?” Willow asked, feeling wonderfully alive and content.

  Both men groaned.

  “When I can breathe again, woman,” Drago told her.

  “When I can move,” Ulrik answered.

  Willow sat up and lifted her hips off Ulrik’s spent cock, shifting to her knees between them. She captured their cocks one in each hand and slowly squeezed and stroked along their softening flesh. “If we aren’t leaving yet then perhaps I can still play,” she said, smiling wickedly when they moaned and sat up before her, pulling their cocks from her hands.

  “You’ll be the death of us, woman,” Drago told her and Ulrik nodded his agreement.

  “At least I’ll see to it that you both die happy,” she informed them and laughed as they grinned and pulled her back to lie between them on the covers.

  It was over an hour later before they were dressed and packing up to leave. Willow had just ducked out of the tent when the messengers came running into camp. She watched her fathers, and Ulrik and Drago, and the other warriors gather around the teenage boys. She didn’t know for sure what was being discussed as there was too much noise nearby to hear very well. She could tell that something was very wrong and she didn’t need to see the expressions on the warriors’ faces to know that. She could feel it in the air around her, hear it in the call of the water. More invaders were coming. Perhaps more than their men could handle at one time.

  She made quick work of packing food and supplies for her trip with her new mates, sensing that they would no longer be traveling to the village her mates called home. No,

  something else was in the air and their destination lay closer than they realized. Willow felt a pull to the water that surrounded their island home. She was needed at the shore to help defend and protect. Since her warriors would be headed that way as well it should be easy for her to meet the demands of her soul, her call as Island Guardian.

  Everything was ready when Drago headed toward her moments later.

  “There is a change in plans,” he told her, automatically rechecking the packs. A warrior learned at a very young age always to ensure he had plenty of supplies on hand when making a voyage. “The prince has issued a call to council. Ulrik and I are required there.”

  “When do we leave?” she asked as Ulrik walked up with two older men. She could tell just by looking at them that they were related and most probably th
e fathers of her mates. The long brown hair and fierce green eyes were the same. The only discernable change she could see other than the lines of age and flecks of gray was the smaller stature of the two older men. Where her mates stood six feet ten apiece, their fathers were only about six feet seven or eight, making them only a foot taller than she was.

  “You are not going with us,” Ulrik stated, catching her question and her wrath in turn.

  “Of course I am going with you,” she stated heatedly. “I am your mate now. I go where you go.”

  “No, Willow,” Ulrik repeated, shaking his head. “Not this time. I do not want to leave you but we have no choice in the matter. Drago and I must go to the council to represent the Mederras.” Two other men joined them. The first had long blond hair and big blue eyes but it was his smile that drew her eyes first. He was at least six feet, seven inches of muscular perfection.

  “This is Alexi Donan,” Drago introduced her to the big blond warrior before turning to the other one. “This is Arik Savari, one of the bonded mates to our sister Erika.” This one was six feet eight with long brown hair that he had clubbed back at the

  base of his neck and big brown eyes. He smiled down at her and took her hand while Drago finished up the introductions. “This is Willow Mederra, our bonded mate.”

  “It is a pleasure to meet you, little sister,” Arik told her kindly, giving her hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it.

  “Very nice to meet you.” Alexi nodded his head to her.

  “Yes, I’m sure we’ll get to know each other better since I will be traveling with you to the council meeting,” Willow replied with a tight smile.

  “No,” Ulrik tried to say but Willow cut him off.

  “Do not think to tell me no, Ulrik Mederra.” She turned to face him, her hands fisted on her hips and glared up at him. “I am your mate, not your child.”

  “Willow…” Drago tried to intervene but all he got for his trouble was her glare turned on him instead.

  “Don’t even try, Drago,” she warned him. “You both know exactly why I must go. Listen to the wind as you told me earlier. If you do not trust in me listen to the call of the wind and heed its wisdom.”

  Drago couldn’t help it. The grin just took over his mouth and wouldn’t leave. What a woman he and Ulrik had bonded with. She was exquisite to look at, yet as hard as stone. She could hold her own with any warrior and he doubted that she would even have to use her Guardian powers. He had seen her in action too many times to think otherwise.

  “Willow,” Ulrik tried one more time but this time it was Drago that interrupted him.

  “She is right,” Drago stated, still grinning. “The call is there, an echo in the wind. She must come with us. She is needed.”

  “You are sure?” Ulrik asked his brother.

  “I am sure!” Willow stated through clenched teeth. “That should be more than enough for you.” She let her glare encompass all of them before she turned to walk away.

  Ulrik stepped quickly into her path and, grabbing her upper arms in his hands, pulled her gently but firmly onto her toes against his chest. “I seek only that you should know no harm, little one. You are mated now and must accustom yourself to all that it entails. Part of being a mate is understanding the concern and need to protect that your warriors will feel. Do not misinterpret those feelings as possession or imply that we are treating you as a child. After what we have shared in the last night and morning neither Drago nor I could ever confuse you with a child.”

  Willow felt her face flame with bright red color as she blushed from head to toe. That he should mention that now, in front of his fathers and friends. She knew that every single one of them had a very good idea of what he was talking about. They were all mated warriors themselves. There was only one way to get her point across without causing more friction.

  Willow slipped her arms up his, easing out of his hold and wrapping her hands behind Ulrik’s head, threading her fingers through his long brown hair. She slid closer against him, letting him feel the caress of her nipples against his bare chest and pulling his head down to her, nipped his ear before answering him. “I understand, Ulrik. Just know that I have a need to protect as well. A need to comfort and,” she licked his bottom lip and nipped it with her teeth, “be comforted as well. Don’t expect me to sit quietly in your home and wait for you. That is not who I am and that will never change.”

  Ulrik knew what she was saying. She had been brought up by warriors, surrounded by warriors all of her life. So she tended to think like a warrior instead of like a woman or at least like the women he knew.

  “I will remember as long as you do,” Ulrik told her and gave her only enough time to nod before he claimed her mouth with his. He took her under, consuming her with

  his intense passion, spearing her with the sword of his tongue and conquering every inch he claimed.

  She felt Drago moving behind her, felt him push her hair aside and use his teeth and lips to torment the column of her throat from jaw to shoulder. Everyone else faded away and she was lost in that moment with her warriors, unaware and uncaring who witnessed their passionate embrace. She realized in that one moment of time that she was falling in love with Ulrik and Drago. She had been all along.

  Chapter Three

  They all traveled together to the prince’s meeting place just inside the shoreline, a half day’s travel from where they were. Willow rode alone on a midnight black shebana beast. Ulrik and Drago rode on either side of her while Arik Savari and Alexi Donan rode just behind. Drago and Ulrik’s fathers had gone back to the village to let Erin, the Mederra warriors’ mother, and Erika, their sister, know the news of their joining with Willow. They were all to head back to the village together after the prince’s call to council convened.

  They rode just inside the trees, hidden from sight in the thick foliage but Willow could still hear the call of the sea echoing loudly in her ears and feel the waves crashing over her as if she walked softly in the surf. She would slip away to the surf while they were meeting later. The call was too strong to deny for long and Willow felt as if she had already been away for long enough.

  They were safe on this side of the island as it was protected by large rocks that jutted out of the water just off the shore. Any approaching ships would have to turn and go around the rocks to land on a different part of the island. That was why the prince chose it as the perfect meeting place for his warriors. That was why those known as the Island Watchers resided here, keeping watch over the surrounding waters of the Isle of Altair from their homes high in the mountains on this side.

  The sun was low in the sky when they arrived and the hidden glen was awash with the erected tents of all the warriors summoned. There were very few women present but Willow did see a few here and there scattered among the big warriors. She tossed her pack on the ground by where the others with her had and told Drago that she was going to gather some wood for fire while they finished putting up the tents.

  The call was strong when she entered the tree line and headed to the shore. She could smell the scent of salt in the air, hear the pounding of the waves as they crashed against the shore. She felt the tingle in her fingers, a thrum in the blood just beneath the surface of her sensitized skin. She was close, so close to where she was called to be when she felt the hum in the air, a trickle of sensation down her spine like an electric jolt.

  There was a rustle in the trees and Willow turned quickly, stepping behind a large tree, feeling a desire to hide and watch that was too strong to deny. A woman came through the trees, dressed differently from any Willow had ever seen before. This woman wore the brown pants of a warrior cut smaller to fit her frame and a top made of the same brown material but tied the same way that a woman’s scarf top would be behind the neck and back. One arm was covered from wrist to elbow with a thick padding of the brown material and she carried a pouch of something attached to her waist. She moved stealthily, her long, dark red hair hanging to her buttocks in
a thick braid, green eyes scanning the trees around her.

  Willow felt the girl’s eyes on her but the girl didn’t come toward her hiding place. It was almost like she spoke in Willow’s mind, encouraging her to stay hidden and keep quiet. The girl turned quickly and let out a shrill whistle that echoed loudly through the quiet of the trees. Three big burly warriors burst from the trees, surrounding the girl.

  Willow’s eyes grew bright, wondering what she could do to help this girl but then she caught the girl’s wicked smile.

  “What took you so long?” the girl asked the warriors.

  “You do not play fair, cousin,” one of the warriors said as he collapsed beside her. “You have the animal do your work for you.”

  All three warriors sported short black hair, shorter than Willow had ever seen on another warrior and the most beautiful aqua blue eyes. They all sat on the ground, reclining back and watching the girl with smiles of amusement.

  “You have cheated us again, Alea,” one of the others spoke up. “You know that we cannot beat that pet of yours.”

  Alea threw her head back and the sound of her girlish laughter tumbled around them. “Princess Asme did not say that I had to play fair, Tanner. I think that you and Bram and Finn are just poor sports.”

  “Poor sports?” Bram bolted up and threw Alea over his shoulder, spinning around and around with her while his two brothers just watched and chuckled. “I’ll show you poor sport, cousin.”

  “Put me down, you big oaf,” Alea told Bram between her shrieks of laughter. “Being this high up is making me sick.”

  Bram quickly put her on her feet and moved gingerly away as if he expected her to be sick at any moment. His brothers rolled on the ground with laughter.

  “I won’t be sick on you, Bram,” she told him with a grin. “But it is too much when you are lifted seven feet off the ground and dangled over the shoulder of a giant.”