Chapter 5

Ikalla noticed the moment Ian slipped away, and she felt a small weight on her chest. If he really cared, shouldn't it bother him that this man wanted to spend time with her? Well, if he didn't care Ikalla intended to at least hear the man out, even though Sam didn't seem to have any of the same interests as her. She had learned long ago that lasting friendships came from the most unsuspected of places. She smiled politely at Sam, and watched Kora and Ben slip away as well, leaving them alone. Without the pressure of her friends watching, Ikalla relaxed. Sam was good at conversation, he was really interested in her tribe and fighting techniques since they were passed down through generations. Ikalla enjoyed explaining the specifics, and when she felt the painful reminder of similar conversations she and Ian had about her upbringing, she buried the sensation. Ikalla was surprised to notice it had grown dark outside while they had talked. She begged Sam's forgiveness, asking to be excused so she could retire for the evening. When he insisted that he escort her back to her rooms, she laughed in his face.

"Please, Sam do not take offense. I am the princess's guard, and I have been fighting my whole life. I am sober. If I can't get back to my rooms on my own, then I have bigger problems." Sam laughed as well, and waved her off, placing a kiss on her hand farewell. Ikalla walked through the empty halls, listening to the faint echoes of the ongoing party and smiled to herself. As far as public events went, this was rather painless. It was fun. Nearing her rooms, she was about to open her door when the hair on the back of her neck stood up. At the last second, she grabbed an attacker as he reached around her neck from behind. Slamming her pointed heel into the attacker's boot, she heard the grunt and felt his hot breath on her neck as he pushed her forward into the room. Ikalla could smell the booze on him. She took the momentum of moving forward and pulled the man over her head, dropping him on his back in front of her, effectively knocking the wind out of him. As he wheezed, Ikalla clapped her hands to ignite the torches Ludis had cast spells on for her. On the floor was a wheezing Ian.

"Gods Ian, what the hell's where you trying to do?" Ikalla came forward and tried to help him into a sitting position as he coughed.

"Just testing your … reflexes. Wanted to … make sure … you stay on your… toes." Ian wheezed. "Damn woman, did you really have to toss me? I was trying to hug you … Not attack you."

"A man I couldn't see snuck up behind me and put his arm around my neck while reeking of whiskey." Ikalla pointed out, reaching for a pitcher of water she kept on the table for when she returned late. Handing him a glass he sipped slowly, and she helped him stand so he could sit on the couch instead. Ikalla should have been irritated but was curious why he was here. Ian really didn't seem bothered earlier, so why try to sneak up on her? It must be because he's drunk. People do stupid things when they drink. She could attest to that.

"Ian what are you doing here?" Ikalla asked, as she slid off her shoes. She smiled behind her hair at him rubbing his foot where she had stomped it. He said nothing as he watched her, and she shrugged, taking off the jewelry she had received as gifts from him and their friend's last mid-winter. Setting them on the table in front of her, she looked over at Ian again. When he continued to just look at her, Ikalla sighed and got up. She was going to change. After switching into soft breeches and shirt, she padded back to the living room where Ian sat with his head in his hands. Not wanting to push him, she sat on the couch across from him and began the long process of undoing her braids and the silver clasps in them. Ian looked up through bleary eyes and watched her carefully undo each braid, brushing it out gently with her fingers. In truth he seemed mesmerized by it, and she felt self-conscious about something so simple as taking her hair down. It was just hair why was he staring so? A blush began to creep into her cheeks, and Ikalla shifted her body so she could turn away.

"Don't... turn away from me. It's relaxing to watch you undo your hair. Just ... ignore me." Ian said softly. Confused, Ikalla looked him over questioningly. Why did he look so sad? She slowly continued, each curl bouncing when she let it go.

"What's wrong Ian? You've been ignoring me since Attrition Castle and now your drunk in my rooms, watching me do my hair." Ikalla didn't look at him and instead she closed her eyes, focusing on her task and trying to not feel embarrassed. She was halfway through her braids when she had decided he wasn't going to answer, and Ian finally spoke.

"Did I hurt you, trying to ignore you?" Ikalla froze for a heartbeat, and she opened her eyes to look at Ian. He really did look so beautiful. The light from the torches bounced shadows across him; he looked dark and sexy. His reddish blonde hair had grown to his shoulders now, and his light brown eyes gleamed. Still wearing his suit, his shirt was undone at the collar, giving a peak at the hair that spattered his hard chest. He looked almost like a jungle cat, lounging on the couch with the water forgotten in his hand. Ian seemed to be looking every inch of her over as well, and Ikalla looked away before she could blush again.

"Yes. I was more confused than anything though. I understood that maybe you didn't want to pursue something romantic with me, but I had thought that we where still friends." Ikalla spoke softly. Her braids were undone, and she used her hands to shake out the curls. Her braids normally were down her back to her bottom, undone her hair was to her knees spread around her like a black fluffy cloud. Ian's eyes were intense and focused as he looked at her.

"I've never seen you with your hair down before Ikalla. Why don't you ever wear it like that?"

"I thought that would be obvious. It gets everywhere. Tangled. In the way when I fight. The braids are more controllable." She murmured, running her hands through the curls, unsure of what was happening. She felt a weakness in her stomach and knees. Warmth was creeping into her limbs. But Ian was only watching her, they hadn't even touched since she had helped him to sit down. Ian also seemed warm, small beads of sweat had formed on his brow, and he shifted uncomfortably on the couch. They just sat there, afraid to move and break the spell that seemed to hold them in place. Ikalla felt like she couldn't breathe.

"Why are you here Ian?"

"I… I don't know." He whispered. They both heard the lie. Ikalla stood up and so did Ian. Coming around the table, he picked up a handful of her curls and Ikalla saw a faint shiver run across his skin. She felt goosebumps on her arms and chest.

"Its just as soft as it looks." He murmured softly, running the tresses through his fingers. He looked from her hair, into her eyes and leaned closer. She had thought he was going to kiss her, but his lips brushed her forehead instead.

"I want to kiss you again. But I don't want to do it after I have been drinking."

"Your always drinking Ian." Ikalla couldn't hide the disappointment in her voice, and she looked down, hiding her reddened face. She heard his chuckle above her head, and he lifted her chin with his free hand, the other still holding a handful of her curls.

"Don't look at me like that Ikalla, you melt my resolve with that look." He gazed into her eyes, and he cursed softly, pressing his lips gently to hers. She felt his whole body go rigid, like he was trying to stay in control, and Ikalla felt her body ignite. She reached up to cup his face, and pulled him in, deepening the kiss. His attempt at iron restraint vanished like a puff of smoke. Pulling her against him Ian now had both hands buried in her hair, angling her face and she put her hands on his hard chest. She could feel his heart banging against his rib cage, and she wondered if hers was thundering as hard. Their breath mingled and neither wanted to stop. Ian began walking her backward, hands coming down to hold her slender waist as he turned and sat on the couch, pulling Ikalla down on top of him. She straddled him and their lips met, tongues dancing to the rhythm of their pounding hearts. Ian moaned into her mouth and pushed his length up and into her, his hands going crazy as they cupped her bottom and pulled her down so he could press harder into her soft moist warmth. The shock of such a feeling was immediately followed by an almost animal instinct. She felt herself melting, and coming up for air she began to trail kisses down his neck nipping gently. His growl made her smile against his shoulder and his hands were up her shirt now pulling it up and over her head. She didn't even care anymore. All this tension that had built up between them exploded into sexual frenzy. Her large breasts jutted out towards his face, and Ian cupped them hungrily. Pulling a dark nipple into his mouth, she moaned deep in her throat and held him to her. She began to grind on his lap, desperate for release from this pressure building deep within her. Ian seemed in no rush to move past her breasts, he licked and suckled each one slowly. She continued to grind her soft center against his hard length and threw her head back, curls falling to the floor. Ikalla felt his hands move down her back, slowly tracing every curve, moving into her breeches to cup her bottom. She reached for his shirt, undoing his buttons so she could trace his muscles. She was panting, almost mewing like a kitten, her nipples felt bereft, and the breeze caught their wet tips hardening them even more, already over sensitive. She began to shove his shirt from him, coming up to pull his arms out of it. He started to kiss and lick her navel, and the fire within her spread. Ian's mouth was so hot against her skin, Ikalla thought she was going to go mad. Coming back down to capture his mouth, she tasted the clean water and the whiskey, and she breathed in his woodsy smell. Even in summer he smelled winter air and pine trees.

"Ikalla…" He moaned her name against her lips, and she shivered at the sound. He moved to trail kisses along her neck, kneading her breasts gently.

"Ikalla we shouldn't do this right now." his actions did not match his words and Ikalla reached between them to undo the top buttons of his breeches. She ran her hands up his chest and then back down. She stuck her hands into his breeches, feeling bold. She heard his hissed breath and looked into his eyes as she cupped his length. His whole body froze as she pulled him out, velvet over steel. He was so hard as she stroked him, he looked as if he was in pain. Ikalla had asked Kora about this, she knew what to do. She slid slowly out of his lap, and she saw surprise and fear cross his face. She moved to position herself between his legs, eyes level with his member. Looking up at him she continued to stroke him. He seemed to have turned into a statue. Watching her with gleaming eyes. Her own amber ones seemed to glow, lowering her - she flicked her tongue out to lick his tip. Another sharp hiss. She felt her confidence growing as she stroked him. Pulling the head into her mouth, she circled her tongue in slow motions. He was bigger than she thought, but she remembered what Kora told her. Breathing through her nose, she began to take in the length of him, moving up and down. Ian was losing control.

Ian couldn't believe the scene before him. She looked like a warrior goddess of old, kneeled before him with her curls covering her body like a secret curtain. Her mouth was hot silk, and he felt on the verge of coming when she had only been sucking him for just a few minutes... He yanked on her hands, pulling her up to stand in front of him. Yanking her breeches down so he was face to face with the apex of her thighs, he leaned forward and kissed her cark curls. Moving his hands between her legs, he let one finger slide up to caress her wet folds, reveling in the sound of her gasp. Looking up into Ikalla's glowing amber eyes he leaned forward, and after parting her legs slightly, began to lick her. He felt her hands dig into his hair. Her legs began to shake as Ikalla tried to open herself wider for him. He nibbled and suckled, wanting her so wet she would scream. He used one hand to cup her bottom holding her close, and the other to stroke her folds as he continued to suck and lick. Coming up he grabbed her and in one swift motion, laide her out on the couch. Leaning over her, they both were breathing hard. He moved between her legs, and she looked up at him. He saw the moment of uncertainty. Gritting his teeth, he sat back. Looking her over, gods she was so beautiful. Ikalla's caramel skin glowed and her hair was everywhere – all over the couch, hanging over her body, on the floor. Her breasts rose and fell rapidly with her breath. Ikalla's center was so wet she was shining in the torch light.

"You … you know how this works right?" Ian gasped out. His cock throbbed and it was so painful, begging to be buried deep within her. She nodded. Looking up at him she whispered "Yes."

"You know the first time … it hurts at first." Ian stated. Again, Ikalla nodded, and whispered yes.

"Ikalla, baby we don't have to do this. You can say no. Even if we are in the middle of it and you don't want to, we will stop. I won't make you. I wanted this to be more…" Ian gestured vaguely with his hands, his breathing still hard.

"Special. I wanted to do this since the beginning, but I… I was afraid. You deserve hearts and flowers for your first time and I'm … I'm not that guy. You deserve better." Ikalla came forward and cupped his face, she was smiling.

"When have I ever seemed like a hearts and flowers type of woman?" She laughed and he smiled, kissing her deeply. Ikalla pulled Ian down on top of her, and he got into position, sliding into her slowly. He felt her barrier and kissed her softly as he drove in fast and true. They made love without the hearts and flowers, and as they lay in Ikalla's bed, Ian stroked her skin and whispered to her all the wonderful things he had thought about her when he was trying to deny that this woman in his arms was the only one he ever wanted for the rest of his life.