Lover Released | By : Hoping4More Category: A through F > Black Dagger Brotherhood Views: 3573 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Black Dagger Brotherhood, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Epilogue
Mel felt ridiculous in the ruby red silk gown her mahmen had squeezed her into. The corset was too tight, there were about five too many layers of skirting flowing out from the empire waist, and her breasts were almost completely exposed by the low-cut neckline. It was the same dress her mahmen had worn on her mating day, but Cynthia hadn’t had half the curves Mel did. She looked like slutty Victorian Barbie. At least the neckline showed off the starburst scar above her heart. She was damn proud of becoming part of the brotherhood and today of all days she needed a reminder that she was one bad-ass chick.
Cynthia looked perfect as usual in her classic wine-coloured designer gown as she flitted about her suite where they were getting ready, directing their doggen Marie to fix an imperfect curl in Mel’s upswept hair, or to add a little more rouge to her already made-up face. It had seemed like a nice gesture when she agreed to wear the gown, one to help appease a mahmen who was still reeling over her only child choosing the life of a brother, but Mel was having an increasingly difficult time acting happy about the whole situation.
She passed her weight back and forth between each foot, her legs growing tired of standing after an hour of her mahmen’s primping. Sitting had been out of the question once they dressed her in thirty pounds of silk and linen—heaven forbid there should be a single wrinkle.
Her only enjoyment had been watching Tara go through the process along with her—although she didn’t seem to mind nearly as much. She was probably hiding how truly excited she was in solidarity.
Tara’s chestnut locks cascaded down to her mid-back in a curtain of soft curls. The soft style looked elegant and ethereal when paired with her cap-sleeved gown of champagne and red. It had gold embroidery decorating the champagne bodice and skirting and trimming the hems and waistline. Her dress had been custom made to match the era of the one Mel wore—by Tara’s request. The high waist suited Tara’s tall slender frame and the deep crimson train gave her a regal air. Sure, Mel was covered in a different shade of the same colour, but there was no way she could look half as good as her best friend.
“D is going to ruin that dress if you’re not careful,” Tara stage whispered as Cynthia rummaged through her jewelry armoire.
“If your mahmen wants it back in one piece you might want to undress yourself.” She tried to cover her laugh as Cynthia and Marie approached with their hands full of gold and priceless gems.
“It can be mended,”Cynthia said plainly, holding up an elaborate choker comprised of thin gold chains looping between black pearls and rubies in a delicate web. “Virgin knows the seamstress had her work cut out for her after Kryhm got to it.”
Tara burst out laughing while Mel’s mouth dropped open in shock.
“So not a visual I ever wanted to have,” Mel said, succumbing to Tara’s infectious laugh.
“Right, your father and I are just friends and you were adopted,” Cynthia mocked.
Mel smiled and leaned forward for her mahmen to secure the clasp at the back of her neck. The necklace rested heavily between her collarbones, with the lowest point resting between the swells of her breasts, making her feel a little less naked. She also felt a little like a christmas tree.
“Stunning,” Tara said, looking directly into Mel’s eyes as if she had heard her insecure thoughts. Which of course, she probably had.
I’m sorry Tara. Am I wrecking this for you? Mel gave her an apologetic smile, wishing she could be more excited about their mating day—that she could push aside her awkwardness and insecurities and just be happy that they were both about to mate the males they loved.
Do you want me to help you? Tara’s mental voice soothed Mel’s nerves like a shot of whiskey, warming her from the inside.
She nodded her head and opened herself up to her friend’s influence. She was expecting a false sense of calm and happiness, but what she got was a glimpse of how Tara saw her. In her friend’s eyes she was a beauty to envy and a picture of grace. Tara let her feel her happiness, not just of getting mated, but of sharing the moment with Mel. She was honoured and humbled that Mel and Dhayn would forgive her so completely, and that they had accepted Tru into their world with open arms. The love filtering through their connection gave Mel a true sense of happiness that she knew was her own, not a manipulation.
Smiling in ernest, she admired the large solitary ruby Cynthia had hung around Tara’s delicate neck. The simple teardrop setting complimented both Tara and her dress perfectly, she had to admit her mahmen really was quite good at what she did.
A knock at the door brought all eyes around as Kryhm ducked in with his gaze averted in propriety. Cynthia rushed over and righted his face, a flush of excitement on her cheeks and a joyful smile lighting up her eyes as she brushed invisible lint off of his traditional black satin ceremonial robe. With her hangups securely shelved, Mel could see how truly happy this day was for Cynthia, and something inside of her eased at bringing that smile to her mahmen’s lips.
“Time for me to take you downstairs my shellan,” he said, grazing his thumb over one cheekbone and gently holding Cynthia’s chin while he placed a soft kiss to her lips.
Cynthia reluctantly broke away from her mate and gave the girls one last look-over. Nodding her approval, she air kissed them both in turn and looped her arm through Kryhm’s as he led her out the door with Marie in their wake.
Mel smiled and turned toward Tara as the female came to stand beside her. They clasped hands and sighed in unison, causing them both to giggle.
“You ready for this?” Tara asked squeezing her palm gently.
“Are you kidding? I was ready months ago. If we hadn’t involved my mahmen we would both be hitched by now,” Mel replied lightheartedly.
“Ah, but then none of our friends and family would have had the chance to see the look on D’s face when he sees you in that dress.”
“As long as he doesn’t laugh, cause I’d hate to have to kick his ass in front of a crowd,” Mel laughed.
“I might have to make that happen, just to see the look on your mahmen’s face.”
“Don’t you dare,” Mel warned. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
Tara giggled and swung their linked hands as they walked together out of the room.
Dhayn smoothed his hands over the silky satin of his black ceremonial robe and tightened the sash at his waist unnecessarily. It was hard not to be antsy with fifty people staring at you, but at least Mel had cut her mahmen off before the whole glymera was invited. The night was warm and the garden he stood in with Tru and their brothers was alive with night-blooming flowers and the soft glow of hundreds of candles. There was lighthearted conversation and the buzz of anticipation from those gathered in the garden on the vast lawns of the estate once owned by Bharron son of Khawnor. The property now belonged to Tru’s mahmen, Lydia and she was practically glowing herself as she wove through the small crowd of family and friends playing the role of hostess to perfection.
A hush descended over the crowd as a small figure draped in black silk appeared amongst the warriors, the light spilling out from under her robes denoting her as the mother of their race. The brothers settled into formation and bowed their heads in respect. Dhayn had seen her once before at his and Tru’s initiation ceremony, but he was still just as shaken to be in the presence of a deity as he was the first time. The power emanating from her was a tangible thing, making his pulse spike and his hairs stand on end.
Dhayn’s attention was diverted by the arrival of his future in-laws. They had dematerialized over from the compound where the girls were getting ready, which meant his mate would soon follow.
“Here come the brides,” Tru whispered from his left, his eyes locked on the flowered archway where the girls would enter.
Like something out of a dream his Mel appeared hand-in-hand with Tara and he lost the ability to speak, to think, to even breathe. She searched the crowd until she found him and when their eyes met a slow smile took over her captivating face. They walked forward slowly and Dhayn’s muscles began to twitch with the need to run to her. Sweet virgin she looked edible in that crimson gown.
Tru moved toward the girls as they came closer and kissed both of Tara’s cheeks, claiming her free hand in his. Dhayn shook free from his stupor and did the same with Mel. She stifled a laugh and gave his hand a squeeze. Turning, they all sobered as they approached the Scribe Virgin.
Dhayn stepped forward to make the presentation first, eager to get his shellan’s name on his back and lay her out on hers’ until sunrise.
“Scribe Virgin, this is Mehlisha, daughter of the Black Dagger warrior Kryhm, granddaughter of the Black Dagger warrior Challehnger, great-granddaughter of the Black Dagger warrior Kryhm…” Dhayn calmly listed Mel’s lineage back ten generations. When the list was complete the Scribe Virgin looked to Mel.
“This male asks that you accept him as your hellren. Would you have him as your own if he is worthy?”
“Yes, I will.”
The Scribe Virgin nodded. "Warrior, this female will consider you. Will you prove yourself for her?"
"I will." Dhayn said with pride.
"Will you sacrifice yourself for her?"
"I will."
"Will you defend her against those who would seek to harm her?"
"I will.”
“Give me your hands.”
Dhayn and Mel offered their hands palm up and the black folds of fabric enveloped them. Warm currents seeped into his skin and a tingle ran up his spine.
“This is a very good mating.”
They stepped back after she released their hands, and Dhayn swept Mel up into his arms and hugged her tight as Tru presented Tara as his mate. Setting Mel back on her feet, Dhayn loosened the sash at his waist and moved over to stand in front of the small table off to the side that was set with two crystal bowls full of salt, two pitchers of water, and two small lacquer boxes on it.
Time to make things official.
Tara and Mel held tightly to each other’s hands as Tru knelt beside Dhayn. Both males were naked from the waist up and Tara ran her eyes over the smooth skin of Tru’s back reverently, knowing it would soon be marked with her name from this night until his last. The brothers who were assembled to perform the mating ritual rested their hands on their black daggers and waited for Thrett to address the two kneeling males.
“Dhaynger, what is the name of your shellan?”
“She is called Mehlisha.”
The rasp of Thrett’s dagger being unsheathed rose goosebumps on Tara’s flesh. He knelt over Dhayn’s back and carved an ‘M’ into his skin. Dhayn held perfectly still, absorbing the pain and the honour it bestowed on him in silence. Thrett straightened and moved to stand behind Tru.
“Intrudehr, what is the name of your shellan?”
“She is called Tehrrify.”
Tara flinched as her sire set his blade to work on her hellren’s back. Kryhm came forward next and repeated the process, and one after another the other brothers followed, asking the question and carving a letter. When both males had endured their last letter, and their shellans’ names arced across their backs in crimson Old English lettering, Thrett and Kryhm moved to the table and took the pitchers of water and poured them into the bowls of salt. In unison they poured the thick, opaque liquid on Tru and Dhayn’s backs. Tara could feel the ripples of how much pain they were in, but they didn’t show it and the brothers growled their approval.
Thrett and Kryhm returned the bowls to the table and opened the lacquer boxes, taking out two pristine pieces of white cloth. Thrett attended to Tru, drying his wounds, then rolling the material up and putting it back inside the box. Kryhm did the same for Dhayn.
“Rise, brothers,” Thrett said.
Dhayn and Tru stood without aid, exposing their marked backs to those gathered to witness their matings. They were presented with their boxes and approached Tara and Mel to offer their final pledges of strength and loyalty. There was no longer any awareness of pain for either of them, though their skin was far from healed—all Tara could see and feel was pride and love emanating from both of them. She locked eyes with Tru as he kelt and asked her to take him as her own, and her fretting fled as joy bubbled up from deep in her belly.
“Yes. I will.”
She accepted the proffered box with one hand and grabbed Tru’s chin with the other, holding him still as her mouth descended on his. The lightning bolt of heat that shot into her the moment their lips touched had her moaning into his mouth, but she was too far gone to care about their audience. She could hear the brothers begin to sing in the old language, but none of the words registered with her—she was so caught up in Tru’s touch, in the wet heat of his tongue sweeping over hers. Clapping and a few hoots and whistles shook her out of it and she reluctantly stepped back from her hellren.
Tru rose to his feet and pulled her in tight to his side, the heat of his bare skin scorching her arms and seeping through the many layers of her dress.
“When can we leave?” he whispered into her hair before placing a kiss to the top of her head.
“A couple of hours, maybe less if we’re lucky.”
She chuckled at his groan, even though she felt the same urgency he did. Mel’s simple mating ceremony suddenly seemed like a dream.
Tru watched Tara with hungry eyes as she made her rounds, saying her thanks and farewells to their friends and family. She looked breathtaking in her mating gown but all he could think about was what hidden underneath all of that gold and red silk. It was a miracle he hadn’t pounced on her the minute the ceremony was over. The pleasure he got from feeding her had tied him over through their mating feast, but his patience was running thin. He needed to claim his shellan in more ways than one with an urgency he had never experienced and the surging lust he could usually keep at bay was threatening to burst out of him at any second. Think non-sexy thoughts Tru, he urged himself. Checkers, taxes, boxing, kittens, Tara moaning beneath my unrelenting mouth. Dammit! Focus! He would not ruin this night for her. They had the rest of their lives to fuck, but only a couple of hours to celebrate their union with everyone they loved.
Tru was happy for the distraction as Dhayn and Mel approached them. They walked hand in hand with secret smiles on their faces. Tara politely ended her conversation with her aunt Daralis and tucked herself under Tru’s arm to face their friends. The contact with her body tripped him up and she shuddered against him as some of his pent up sexual energy seeped out and took hold of her, awakening her body with renewed need.
“We are taking off,” Dhayn said.
Oh, thank the Virgin.
“I think we should too,” Tara said, her voice slightly husky.
Tru practically purred in satisfaction over her reaction to him. Mine.
“We’ll see you in a few days,” Mel said, stepping forward to kiss both of Tara’s cheeks.
Tru lifted his free hand and offered them both a wave to stem off any contact.
“Trust me, you don’t want to touch me right now.”
The four of them laughed and the others waved their goodbyes as well. Dhayn and Mel took off toward the front of the house where his Lamborghini was waiting to take them to the cabin they would be staying in for the next few days—not having a place of their own yet to hole up in. Tru had been honoured when Thrett asked him to move into the compound after his initiation, but he was glad Tara had convinced him to keep his place so they had somewhere to escape to on their off days. Speaking of which.
“Let’s go home princess.”
Tara smiled up at him with a twinkle in her eye that took his breath away. He pressed his lips gently to hers and opened his mind to her. Three, two, one… They both dematerialized and travelled the distance to their condo in a matter of seconds, taking form on the balcony overlooking downtown Caldwell. Tru slipped his arms behind her knees and back and swept her up into a cradle position against his chest. Willing the door to open, he carried his shellan across the threshold and closed it behind them. He held her close in silence for a moment before lighting the hundreds of red candles he had scattered over every flat surface of their loft with one burst of mental energy. Tara gasped as the room erupted with warm yellow light. The red rose petal path that led to their massive California king felt like silk beneath his bare feet as he carried her slowly across the space, dragging out the anticipation for them both as they began to relax their mental shields now that they were alone.
“This is beautiful Tru,” Tara said into his neck, nuzzling her nose into the hollow above his collarbone.
“Not nearly enough for my female.”
Setting her down at the foot of the bed he summoned the rest of his will power to attempt to unfasten her dress without ruining it. Tara giggled and grabbed his hands, placing them on her breasts and urging him to kneed the soft mounds through the soft silk bodice. His erection strained against the thick boxer briefs he wore to hold it down. It can be mended, she suggested with a sly grin. Tru bared his fangs as his control snapped. With a loud rip and the clattering rhythm of a hundred buttons bouncing across the hardwood, Tara’s dress pooled around her feet. Tru growled when he found her bare beneath it, her nipples peaked from his attention and her naked sex on display. His black satin pants and boxers were hastily removed by Tara’s urgent hands and he saw stars when she took hold of his aching cock and used it to pull him closer.
“Take me,” she demanded, fire in her sapphire gaze.
Tru was more than happy to oblige, tossing her onto the bed and pouncing on her as the air swooshed out of her lungs. She let out a surprised laugh that was abruptly cut off as Tru positioned the head of his cock at her entrance. She was already slick and ready for him, her inner muscles greedy for the feel of him. Locking eyes with her, he could smell his bonding scent saturating the air around them, mixing with the smooth vanilla lavender scent that was all Tara. He projected his thoughts as he spoke aloud, “Mine.” He thrust forward as far as her sex would allow him and shuddered as she tightened around him. He set a steady pace, holding his orgasm back until he felt the first tremors of Tara’s climax, and then he let go, erupting into her as he brought his fangs down on her throat and struck deep. It was the longest, most intense orgasm Tru had ever had—his sex pumping into her as his body claimed what was now rightfully and lawfully his.
When his sex had finally stilled, Tru reluctantly withdrew from her sex and her vein. He sealed the puncture wounds with a slow lick and collapsed on the bed beside Tara, struggling to catch his breath.
“Now it’s my turn,” Tara growled, bringing Tru’s sensitive shaft to full attention.
Sweet Virgin he loved his female.
Two nights later…Tara ran her fingers down Tru’s back and over the muscular swell of his tight ass. He was still trying to catch his breath, the rise and fall of his chest finally easing into a normal rhythm. Her own pulse slowed to match his as the aftershocks of her last orgasm ebbed and her body relaxed. Tara propped her head up on one elbow to appreciate the magnificent male laid out before her on the soft white rug. He was the perfect picture of a male in his prime—every muscle honed for battle and phearsom enough to please any female. She stared unabashedly at what was now rightfully hers and hers alone and a thrill went through her as his body responded, hardening under her gaze. Even satiated as she was she wanted to claim that response to her call, to own every inch of his pleasure—but sweet Virgin was he big. An idea had been brewing in the back of her mind for some time now and in that moment, with the flames of the fireplace flickering behind him in a hypnotic dance, she decided to try. Her breath shuddered in and out of her as she worked up the courage to ask what she wanted from him.
“What is it princess?” Tru asked, brushing her hair back behind her ear and placing a kiss on her forehead.
“I have never been able to take all of you,” she said quietly, avoiding his eyes by staring at his chest.
The firelight lit his body perfectly, casting shadows that accentuated his large pecs and each of his perfectly defined abs. She wanted to run her tongue over every inch of him, her sex quickening again even after the mind-blowing orgasms he had just given her.
“I’ve told you before, that doesn’t matter to me. Believe me, I am fully satisfied in every way,” he replied, tilting her chin up to meet her eyes. “You are perfect.”
“I want to take all of you. I want to feel you, all of you, every inch of you, inside of me when you come undone,” Tara continued, emboldened by the hunger stirring to life in those gorgeous gold-rimmed eyes.
“I couldn’t, even if I..”
Tara reached up and placed her fingers to his lips to silence him. Realizing she didn’t need to find the words, she motioned for him to rise up on his knees and she turned to face the opposite direction, backing up until they were flush against each other, his legs bracketing hers. His erection pulsed against her lower back like it had a heart of it’s own and a wave of lust encouraged her further.
She reached back between them and lowered him into place. Clenching her thighs together, she slowly slid his hard shaft over her slick swollen lips. Rocking her hips gently she ran the length of his sex over her opening, continually spurring his attempts to penetrate her. She coated him with the moisture drawn out by the teasing strokes until they were both breathing heavily and he was sliding easily between her thighs.
Bending at the waist Tara reached between her legs and stopped him from claiming her sex, eliciting a growl from her hellren and his hands gripping her hips. She positioned the head of his cock where she knew she could take him, and Tru froze. She pushed slowly backward, relaxing her muscles to let him in where no one had ever been before. She could only take him an inch at a time, pausing frequently to breathe and force herself to relax. The fullness brought her to the edge of pleasure and pain, but she continued to rock into him, taking him deeper with each backward thrust, until finally he was sheathed fully within her. Tru let out a low moan and a thrill of victory shot through her, even as her sex throbbed with the lack of contact, the bundle of nerves at her apex burning with the need to be touched. Like he had read her mind, Tru reach forward to slide two of his fingers deep inside of her while rubbing circles over her clit with his thumb. Tara cried out as lights bloomed in her vision, a climax shattering her and completely robbing her of conscious thought. Tru started to move within her, setting a slow and steady pace as he continued to draw out her pleasure with his skilled fingers. Another climax built with dizzying speed and overtook her. She clamped down on both his fingers and his cock, bringing him over the edge with a shout of his own. He was hard again before he had even fully finished his first climax and he dropped forward, his hands leaving her to catch his weight. He planted his arms on either side of her’s, caging her in as he began to move again in slow deep penetrations, pressing his chest to her back. The dichotomy of feeling so empty and overly full at the same time nearly drove her mad. She writhed under him in frustrated pleasure until finally she brought her own hand to her swollen flesh with a desperate need to climax. Tru stilled and stopped her movement, claiming her hands with his own and pinning them to the soft rug beneath them. Tara cried out in frustration, trying to buck him off, but only succeeding in pulling him in deeper.
“Shhh, princess. I want to try something too,” he whispered into her ear, grazing the lobe with one of his fangs.
Tara froze beneath him, slithering into his mind to see what he planned to do. He was solely focused on her pleasure and wanted to see if amping up his gift would…Tara moaned long and low as the simmering heat between them multiplied. Everywhere they touched came alive with sensation. Like a burner being slowly turned up, the flames of passion she was accustomed to became a blazing inferno, consuming her thoughts and her body until she was nothing but need personified. Tru struck her neck with his lethal fangs and every nerve ending in her body fired off at once—a full body climax that stole her breath, before making her scream out in overwhelming pleasure. Her body went limp but Tru was there to catch her, easing them both down onto their sides on the soft thick-piled rug. She could feel his erection kicking inside of her, spilling his seed until at last he stilled.
It took a few minutes for her heart to settle into its normal rhythm. Tru spooned her from behind, his big arm tucked around her waist to hold her firmly against him. Her phone went off, vibrating noisily across the glass coffee table and if it wasn’t for the custom pattern of Thrett’s ringtone she would have left it.
Groaning, she rolled away, cursing as the feel of him leaving her body sent another ripple of pleasure through her. She crawled the couple of feet to the table to retrieve her phone and answered it on audio only—no need for her sire to see what they had been up to.
“Reports of several lessers in the downtown area, I need you two to meet us on the roof of the abandoned warehouse on Seventh in ten minutes,” Thrett barked out the second she accepted the call.
“Yes sir,” Tara answered, jumping to her feet to follow Tru into the main bath, where he had already started the shower.
“See you in ten.”
Tara ended the call and tossed her phone into the small basket of white hand towels that sat between the sinks of the double vanity.
“Looks like the honeymoon is already over, princess,” Tru said, stepping into the glass enclosure and holding the door open for her.
“Oh hell no, two nights isn’t nearly enough. We are pushing pause. I fully intend to get my fill of you hellren,” Tara smirked, joining him under the waterfall of steaming water.
They showered quickly, and reluctantly got dressed in their leathers—the first time they had worn clothes in over forty-eight hours. As she watched Tru holster his black daggers all she could think about was using all of those leather straps in far more inappropriate ways.
“You’re insatiable,” Tru said, smiling deviously as he prowled across the room to help her slide her leather jacket over her own black blades.
“I have some more ideas I want to try out later,” she purred, slipping a finger under his chest holster and teasing his nipple through the thin cotton of his shirt.
“The mother-fuckers that are standing in the way of me getting you naked are about to meet their maker right quick,” he growled, giving her a hard quick kiss, before taking her hand and leading her out onto the balcony.
Tara took a deep breath to calm herself enough to dematerialize and had to smile at her situation. Not exactly the picture perfect life that most female’s dream of when they are younglings playing with their dolls, but it was the perfect life for her and she wouldn’t change a thing. Tru reached out with his mind and she welcomed the connection.
Three. Two. One.
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