Dark Elves 2: Mastered

by Jet Mykles

  Radin led Suzana back to their original seats, accompanied by Salin. Salin relinquished his usual spot beside the rhaeja in favor of wrapping himself around his truemate. Krael watched the hellcat snarl at him, putting up a token struggle before Salin finally settled her in his arms. Krael shook his head. Salin was quite obviously pleased with his truemate, but Krael didn’t understand it. The woman had put him through hell, had repeatedly denied him. She’d forced the commander to practically beg for her. Krael well remembered that one horrible moment when his closet friend had ordered him to sink a dagger into his heart and end his misery.

  Krael dragged his gaze away from the happy couple as Diana finally relented to a kiss. That wasn’t for him. Krael knew the joys of a woman’s flesh, knew how to pleasure a woman, but he wouldn’t be tied to one. There was far too much angst involved.

  He barely listened as Radin stood and proceeded through the formalities of describing the contest for the crowd. The litany was for young raedjour and the virgin herself. Any seasoned man knew what was about to happen, even if they, like Krael, had never actually participated before. Contests of metmre were common among the raedjour. A way of easing tensions and expelling the need for violence that went with their highly sexual nature. The only difference in this contest was the prize.

  She sat like a jeweled statue on her pillows, eyes wide as she gazed at the crowd, her wealth of thick black hair strewn about her like a blanket. The tiny vest she wore guided attention to the fullness of her breasts. Krael idly wondered about the color of her nipples.

  Radin didn’t call him for the first battle. Not that it mattered. Some of the others were fierce, but they were not him. They were not marked as a warrior by Rhae Herself. He barely recalled the time in the dark, when he had given himself to Her will, but he had emerged victorious, with lightning strikes etched across his face. It made him a primary captain, answerable only to Commander Salin and the rhaeja himself. Few other warriors could boast such a feat or would even try the test to see if they were worthy of Her favor.

  He sat back to wait his turn

  Suzana winced as the first contest ended with one combatant out cold on the floor. The winner stepped toward her, saluting with the long staff he had used to pummel his opponent.

  “Would you reward this warrior with a kiss?” Radin asked mildly.

  Suzana blinked, still trying to come to terms with the heated arousal that tingled on her skin and deep in her belly. She had never felt anything like this before.

  She turned her eyes, trained them on the man’s handsome face. “I --”

  “It’s not required,” Radin continued lightly, plucking a sweetmeat from the tray between them. “But you may. If you wish.”

  She felt the weight of Krael’s stare. Despite her fixation on him, the first battle had captured her attention. Horrified and fascinated, she had watched every moment. The warrior before her was tall and wonderfully built. His obsidian skin shone with what should be sweat, but didn’t quite look right. His black eyes flashed with his warm grin.

  “I ...” It seemed only fair to reward him somehow, did it not? Besides, what would his lips feel like? “I wish.”

  The warrior’s grin grew as he stepped forward. Radin’s hand steadied Suzana among the pillows, helping her to her knees. With her kneeling on the platform and the warrior on the ground, he was still a bit taller than she.

  “I’m Rigiel,” he informed her, leaning forward. His hands he kept to his sides.

  “Rigiel,” she repeated, resting her hand lightly on his shoulder to steady herself as she touched her lips to his.

  He leaned into her, a slight moan catching in his chest. Radin cleared his throat, however, and Rigiel abruptly pulled back. He smiled at her. “Thank you, little one.”

  “You’re welcome,” she breathed.

  Radin helped her sit as he called two more names.

  Krael barely contained himself, watching that whelp Rigiel kiss the girl. Then Callip after he trounced Garn. Then Dreidon when he beat Waldaz. After each battle, with each kiss, Krael -- and all those around him -- could feel her arousal grow. Suzana’s sweet, heady lust permeated the room, caressing the skin of every raedjour in the arena. Krael’s cock pressed against his trousers, hard and ready. All around him on the pillow-strewn platforms, couples and threesomes were well into kissing and caressing, tasting and exploring as they enjoyed the pulse of the virgin’s innocent appetite.

  Krael suffered through yet another two matches and another two kisses before it was finally his turn. He only barely calmed as he stepped forward to face Vanzanter, his opponent in the final match of the first round.

  He uncoiled his whip, watching Vanzanter eye it warily. Fool. Vanzanter was better than that. After his nine days with Suzana were over, Krael would take the man to task for showing a weakness so obviously.

  Vanzanter fought with two cudgels, expertly flipping them in his hands. A distraction technique that didn’t work on Krael, who knew the cudgel as well as the whip. Krael simply waited for the less-experienced man to attack.

  Ssssssthack!

  Suzana nearly jumped from her skin when the whip hissed through the air and caught the man on the back as he tried to duck away. Such a sound! She felt as though invisible fingers pinched a sensitive spot between her legs.

  Krael pulled the whip back, all the while dancing aside and away from an attack. The other man tried to engage the whip, tangle it, but Krael used it as a six-foot-long, snaking extension of his arm. The other arm, he used to bat away any advances Vanzanter might make.

  Suzana fidgeted, aroused beyond measure at the sight of the wild male who had chased her down in the forest. His long, lush hair billowed about him like wings. How he avoided tangling it with the whip, or how he managed to keep Vanzanter from grabbing it, she had no idea. Like the whip, it simply seemed an extension of his body that he controlled effortlessly.

  Krael wrested one of the cudgels from Vanzanter, using the butt end of the whip to knock the man aside. Now he fought with both weapons, corralling Vanzanter with the whip, then rapping any available appendage when the other man came too close. And he was often close. How could he use a six-foot whip effectively at close range?

  With a particularly loud crack, the match was over. Vanzanter fell to his knees, then to his side, clutching his head. Dismissing him, Krael tossed the cudgel to the side and boldly strode to the edge of Suzana’s platform.

  She heard Radin chuckle. “Again, Suzana, you may choose not to bestow reward.”

  “No, I --” She stared longingly at the smooth expanse of Krael’s chest, the wicked smile he pointed at her. “-- I want to.”

  She knelt on her own and edged forward. Krael’s hands lifted to reach for her.

  “Krael,” Radin warned.

  Krael snarled at the sorcerer, and Suzana very nearly swooned on the spot. His lip lifted, revealing gleaming white teeth, and the lightning bolts that crossed his face sizzled to life. Her skin burned to feel the touch of those hands. She failed to swallow the moan that vibrated in her throat.

  Obviously pleased, Krael switched his attention to her, even as he braced his hands on the edge of the platform. She stopped when she knelt before him. She was shocked to find that he was not as tall as the other raedjour she had met. Still far taller than she, but not a towering mountain like some of the others. Kneeling on the platform, she was about on eye-level with him. It was comforting, made him seem more tailored to her. At least in her own fanciful thinking. She reached out a tentative hand. A thick hank of silky white hair rested on his chest, and she laid her palm on it. Instantly, her fingers moved, weaving into it.

  His smile turned feral, and again Suzana thought she might melt. A sensible woman would be frightened. She was frightened. But, oh, her body responded to this man!

  She leaned forward, and he tilted his head to more fully catch her lips. She started back when she felt his tongue swipe the seam of her lips.

  “Krael,” he told her, n
aming himself as the other men had. Even if it wasn’t necessary.

  She nodded, knowing she couldn’t possibly forget.

  The final match. Krael’s cock was hard enough that he could have used it as a weapon itself against Callip. Suzana’s lust was thickly palpable, driving him insane. It was like but unlike the feeling a raedjour experienced with a lover. It was that tingling sense, that phantom echo of pulsing pleasure, that drove a raedjour to please his lover. But this virgin lust was slightly different, a lighter taste but no less potent.

  Around him, few of the onlookers watched the contest. The sounds of sex, slapping skin and frantic moans, had accompanied that of the clashing weapons during the last battle, which had seen Dreidon unconscious under Callip’s mace. Some of the audience had left for private quarters, but most simply stayed and enjoyed the impromptu orgy while they siphoned off Suzana’s arousal.

  Krael tuned out the activity about him. He concentrated solely on the man before him and the surge of extra confidence he received from Suzana. Her attention was on him and him alone! He felt it as clearly as if her tender flesh was pressed against his.

  Impatient to experience her flesh in the physical sense, Krael faced Callip. It was over almost before it began. His aim had never been finer as his whip wrapped about Callip’s neck, his arm never stronger as he pulled the startled man off his feet and kicked the side of his head. Callip, victor of three fights this night, was out.

  Chapter Seven

  Triumphant, Krael spun to face his prize. Her huge violet eyes rounded impossibly larger as he approached, but she didn’t take flight. Frozen, she awaited her capture. He saw Radin’s smile and his faint nod. Beside Radin, Salin had rejoined Diana. They were locked in an embrace, as were Gala and Hyle to Suzana’s side.

  “Well done, Captain,” boomed the rhaeja.

  Krael stopped in mid-step and forced himself to turn and face his ruler. Valanth was alone with Tishna on the platform, the empty-eyed woman spread across his chest like a blanket. Valanth’s stenciled cock was buried deep in her pussy, but his eyes speared Krael’s.

  “Treat her well, Captain,” the rhaeja told him, turning an admiring gaze toward Suzana.

  “Yes, my lord.” Krael turned his own gaze to her, smiling as he felt her trembling need hammer at him. “I intend to.”

  Crossing the distance between them, Krael scooped Suzana from the platform, tossing her high before him like one might a toddler. Again he tested that delectable weight he had discovered when he held her in the forest. She looked delicate, but there was solid woman in that body. Solid woman to wrap around his cock. Unable to meet those eyes directly any longer lest he throw her down and take her right then, he threw her over his shoulder, keeping a tight grip on her plump little ass.

  He followed a boy to the room the winner of the virgin was assigned. It would be bigger and better equipped than his rooms, and at least one squire would be assigned to attend them during the nine days. For that, Krael was thankful; he never took on squires of his own.

  They reached the room, and he took his trembling bundle inside. He knew she was frightened, but he also knew she was aroused. If he couldn’t already feel it, he could certainly smell it wafting from between her silky thighs. He tossed her carefully onto the pillows and blankets heaped atop an overlarge bed. Primly, she pressed her legs together, turning her hips so that she was closed to him. His gaze narrowed. He didn’t realize he’d growled until he saw her cringe.

  He thought to reassure her, but words were beyond him. After the fight, his heart rate was skipping furiously, and it was all he could do not to tear into her. Also, her fear added a tangy spice to her scent.

  Slowly, he knelt before her. Never taking his gaze from hers, he took hold of her ankles and placed them to either side of his hips, spreading her nicely. The silk wrapped about her hips annoyed him.

  Snarling, he twisted a finger in the knot holding the wrap and yanked. Suzana gasped as the shimmery fabric tore. He flipped the cloth aside and fastened his gaze on her exposed sex.

  Suzana didn’t know if she wanted to scream or groan. All reassurances from Radin and Gala flew from her thoughts as she was confronted with the wild man before her. His movements were carefully contained, barely leashed violence evident in everything about him. But even the knowledge that he was probably going to hurt her didn’t detract from the deep, pulsing arousal that suffused her body. She knew arousal. She knew attraction. Both were paltry feelings from her innocent past compared to the heated blaze that burned in her belly and pooled in her groin as she lay spread before this man.

  Heavy eyelids and thick white lashes didn’t hide the dark, vivid blue of his eyes. As he leaned forward, a heavy hank of his long, straight hair fell from the top of his head, over his shoulder, to curl deliciously on her thigh. She moaned. The sound brought his gaze to hers. She could only stare in fascination at his harsh features, the gleaming obsidian skin bisected with a crisscrossing lightning design. He continued forward, closing the distance between them, his brawny arms keeping his body from touching hers. More of his hair hissed forward to curtain them on either side. She squirmed, wanting to run but wanting to grab handfuls of that hair to rub all over her body.

  “Suzana,” he breathed, lips hovering over hers for just that moment before he sealed their lips.

  The kiss was hard. Not hurtful, just demanding. He pulled back long enough to demand, “Open.” Just like in the forest. Now, like then, she parted her lips to his plunging tongue, squirming deliciously beneath his assault. This was all-encompassing, explorative and possessive. He touched every surface of her mouth that he could reach, branding it his own.

  Suzana clutched the blankets beneath her, wanting to reach up and touch him but scared to do so. She could only follow his lead because this was a new experience. She was deathly afraid she’d get it wrong, that she’d displease him, that he’d stop this glorious exploration. She couldn’t think on her own. She was his to direct.

  He pulled away, leaving her bereft. Muttering darkly to himself, he took hold of both sides of her vest and tugged. The two laces that held the sides closed snapped. His nostrils flared as the vest fell apart, exposing her breasts. One huge hand closed around one of those mounds of delicate flesh, plumping, pinching. He wasn’t exactly gentle. She cried out when he dropped his head, sucking her nipple into his mouth. Dark, fiery warmth spread through her chest, melted through her belly, and oozed from between her thighs. He worried her nipple with tongue and teeth, a rumble in his throat setting off a vibration in her breast. Her hands flew up of their own accord to grasp the hair near his head. Eagerly, she tangled her fingers in the cool silk of it, pulling to press his face closer to her breast.

  He switched to the other breast, each hand now cupping one mound. He brought the other nipple to painful awareness, then opened his mouth wide to suck as much of her breast into his mouth as he could. She held her breath, unsure whether to enjoy the sensation or brace herself for intense pain if he bit her.

  Krael reared back, dislodging her hands from his hair as he sat back on his knees. “Suzana,” he groaned again, sliding his hands down her ribs to smooth over the curve of her belly. Sweet, creamy skin, flushed a lovely pink by her arousal. The curve of her belly entranced him. His entire hand could splay the width of her waist! His hands trailed lower, smoothing out to the sway of her hips, then down over the plumpness of her thighs. With both hands, he gripped those thighs and tugged her forward so that her bottom rested on his knees. All the while, his gaze remained riveted on the dark triangle of curls between her legs, curls that parted due to his action to reveal juicy, wet lips and an intriguing, seeping hole. He glanced up to see her eyes locked on the fall of his hair, and he smiled. She’d fallen under the spell of his hair, a common occurrence for most of his lovers. While she gazed at him, he trailed his fingers through her pussy lips, his cock stiffening when he realized just how big his fingers looked. If his fingers looked big, his cock would truly find a snug fit!


  She moaned, her eyes finally falling shut as he smeared her cream over her sex. He found the nub of her clit easily and had to grasp her thigh with his free hand to keep her still as he rubbed it. Her cute little mouth pursed to frame the “Oh!” that escaped her lips.

  Oh, he wanted to fuck her! He wanted to wear her ankles as a necklace as he pounded into her. Later, he promised himself. He had nine days with her. Despite the boil of his blood, he had to be careful.

  Her hips started to pump. He wasn’t surprised she was close. The entire night had been one long foreplay session for her. He kept rubbing her clit, bringing one finger of his other hand down to her entrance to probe just inside to find the right spot ...

  There! She shattered, her hips pumping furiously at his fingers, instinct seeking to drive him deeper. He shut his eyes, letting her orgasm roll over him like a warm tide, allowing it to ease some of the urgency in his blood.

  Leaving her limp among the blankets, he slid out from under her and stood beside the bed. Breathing heavily, she rolled her head to watch as he bent to remove his boots.

  “Don’t move.” She froze in the midst of sitting up. Uncertain, she remained on her elbows. “Keep your legs spread. I like the sight of you.”

  That helped her embarrassment. Her thighs relaxed, bowed open as instructed.

  One boot then the other found the floor. He straightened to unlace his trousers. Even now, her manners tried to rule as she wondered whether to watch or not. How cute. She finally decided on his eyes, and he let his gaze heat as he finally pushed his trousers down over his slim hips. She practically panted in the effort not to look, and, since he stood calmly, it finally overwhelmed her. Her gaze dropped, and those huge violet eyes got even bigger at the sight of him. Her thoughts were plain. How was she going to fit that inside her? He was hard and thick, and he wasn’t entirely sure he’d fit it all, either. But he’d fit as much of it as he could!