The Golden Dynasty (Fantasyland #2)(84)
Author: Kristen Ashley

With ease, he dodged the charge and disarmed Dortak as he did so. Dortak ran passed Lahn but Lahn didn’t delay. After Dortak came to an awkward stop and whirled lumberingly to face his challenger, Lahn had already swung Dortak’s steel wide and instantly executed a low, powerful, smooth sweep, cutting Dortak off at the knees.

Literally.

With a bellow of agony that hurt to hear even coming from a monster, the legless Dortak again fell to his face.

The crowd, clearly delighted beyond reason with grisly dismemberment, became crazed, their cries, chants and cheers clogging the air.

But Lahn wasn’t done. He bent and used Dortak’s hair to drag the still living but definitely fallen warrior within five feet of my throne, leaving his legs behind. Then Lahn lifted Dortak’s legless body clean in the air, hefting it up with an almighty heave. I forced my eyes to stay open as I stared into the hated, bloody, now pale and agonized face of a man who it could be said was getting his just desserts… in a serious way… before Lahn let his hair go and as his body started its plummet to the ground, fast as lightning, Lahn quickly two-handed Dortak’s sword and swung it in a downward arc, slicing him clean through the neck, Dortak’s body dropping straight to the ground, his head flying off in a sickening gush of blood.

I couldn’t help it, it was so freaking gross, I winced.

Luckily, I didn’t think anyone noticed, not even Lahn. He was staring down at the headless, legless, very, very, very dead body of Dortak and the crowd was going insane.

As was, I was getting, their way, the Korwahk did not delay with completing the festivities. Men ran forward, one grabbed both severed legs, two grabbed an arm each on Dortak’s body and they dragged and carried the carcass pieces out of the clearing, moving toward the pyre. Another man rushed forward with Lahkan, Lahn’s horse and Lahn himself had moved to the head which he snatched up by the tail.

While striding back to his mount, he tossed Dortak’s bloody sword on the platform, it clattered across the wood and his eyes went beyond me to Bain and/or Zahnin.

“Unahyoo see,” he grunted, Melt that. Then his eyes came to me and he reverted to English. “You’ve had enough and will not ride with me. Drink and be cheerful with your people, I will return and we will celebrate.”

I nodded.

He jerked his chin up, attached Dortak’s head by his tail to a stirrup on Lahkan (something which I saw the start of then averted my eyes because, seriously, gross) then without delay, he swung up into the saddle, jerked his reins, Lahkan veered around and Lahn sent his heels into his steed. Immediately, Lahkan burst forward in a full gallop. The crowd had moved in and the clearing was not a clearing anymore but they’d been around these contests enough, they swiftly got out of Lahn’s way but they did it shouting, clapping, punching their fists in the air, pounding them against their chests and generally being boisterous and exceedingly rowdy. A stream of men, women and even children raced after Lahn on Lahkan, likely in hopes to be close when Lahn severed Dortak’s tail so they could claim his head.

Lahn disappeared from sight, casks were produced, jugs came out and leather covered cups were passed around.

It was time to party.

Bain and Zahnin moved to flank my chair at the sides rather than the back.

A woman came forward and handed me a leather covered, resin lined cup which a sniff told me held zakah.

If I had a choice, I would have preferred wine. Korwahk wine was excellent.

But zakah was offered so zakah it was.

I looked up at Bain, lifted my cup when he dropped his eyes to me and then turned my head to Zahnin who was already looking down at me.

“Suh Dax!” I cried, The Dax!, and then I belted back a slug.

Before I righted my head I heard both warriors chuckle.

Yes, even Zahnin.

* * * * *

Oh yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah.

“Harder, baby,” I begged, so close, this close and damn, it was going to be huge.

I had paint on me, I even had another man’s blood on me and I also had on my hands a savage warrior who bested a challenge for his throne and took the life of a man not fit to walk this earth and he was in the mood to celebrate.

I was on my hands and knees in front of him, Lahn was thrusting inside, deep and hard. He’d already gone down on me, not letting me come; let me ride him while he rolled my cl*t with his finger, not letting me come; let me take him in my mouth while touching myself, again not letting me come; and now he was f**king me hard. I was primed. So primed, I’d never been this primed.

When it came, it was going to shatter me.

Lahn was leaned over me, one arm wrapped around me, fingers tugging not very gently but ever so effectively on my nipple, his other hand was wrapped around my jaw, holding my head back much like the first time he f**ked me in a way I liked… but better.

So much f**king better.

His hands released me and one went into my back, shoving me down.

“Atoo luh nahna Dax, kah Dahksahna, uvoo zan nahna xaxsah,” he grunted through his thrusts, Bow to your king, my queen, give him your cunt.

I did as ordered, arching my chest into the bed, pressing my cheek to the mattress, my arms straight in front of me, I reared my ass back to meet his drives.

His big hands spanned my ribs and he yanked me back hard even with my violent jerks.

“See lapay tee, kah rahna Dahksahna,” he growled, “uvoo kay nahna rahna xaxsah.” That’s it, my golden queen, give me your golden cunt.

“Yes, my king,” I breathed, coming closer, “kah rahna xaxsah lapay nahna.” My golden cunt is yours.

“Kahna,” he growled, mine.

“Nahna,” I gasped, yours.

“Jak kahna,” he grunted, pounding deep, all mine, and I lost it, my head shooting back, my hair flying, my hands clenching the hides and my h*ps slamming back into his, it overwhelmed me, making me cry out in ecstasy, no joke, ecstasy as I went into a mini-orgasm trance as the sheer force of it swept through me. But I still didn’t miss my king’s powerful shout of release as he buried his c**k deep, yanking me to him one last time, his hands tightening fierce on my ribs.

I was nowhere near recovery when he jerked my body up roughly like he had what I liked to consider our (real) first time so I was virtually suspended, impaled on his cock. His hands moved from my ribs to cover my br**sts and his breathing in my ear was still labored when he spoke, his voice thick and hoarse.

“Kahna,” he grunted, squeezing my br**sts.

“Nahna,” I agreed, turning my head and pressing my forehead in his neck.