by Red Phoenix
“Master…”
He put his fingers to her lips. “You may call me by my given name tonight, Chrisselle.”
She blushed as she pronounced his name for the first time. “Ryce… I have always known I was destined to find a powerful man like my father. Waiting for you helped me during the black days.”
His laughter was a low, sweet rumble as he recalled how frightened and emaciated she had been when he first encountered her. “You did not appear to know your Master when we met that first day, my tiny waif.”
“I was blind… Ryce. I was going to run that night. You were not part of the plan.”
“But you wouldn’t have made it far in your condition,” he stated somberly.
“What did it matter? I would have died free.”
Ryce nodded in understanding. “Yes, there is great worth in freedom.” He looked at her gravely. “You have the courage of a lion, Chrisselle. Worthy of the name Leon.”
She broke into an enchanting smile. “Thank you.”
“Are you ready to be my wife?”
“I have been since the day you hand-fed me back to health. I knew then I would deny you nothing.”
“Why is that, Chrisselle?”
“You are my destiny.”
He felt a soul-shiver. It was disconcerting to think there was such a thing as fate, for if that was the case his future was decided—a reality he could not accept. Yet looking into the depth of her eyes he felt at peace, as if everything had lined up to create this moment in time.
Chrisselle
The elderly priest came early the next day, wanting to get the inconvenient task behind him. Chrisselle stayed in the cottage to ready herself. She had dressed in her only remaining tartan, the lovely green having been bloodied during his accident months ago. However, she wore the red tartan proudly and had taken great care with her hair. She needn’t have bothered, he thought. The glow in her eyes was all Ryce needed.
He wore his formal kilt of a similar pattern and strapped his impressive claymore on his back, in full Highland dress including jacket, dirk and sporran for the occasion. Chrisselle stood back to admire him. “Master, you are frighteningly handsome.”
He smiled at her roguishly. “Thank you, my pet.” Ryce motioned her to him. His hands unbuckled the leather collar around her neck. She gasped and whispered, “No…”
“As per the Baron’s request,” he replied, tucking it in the waist of his kilt.
He bent over and picked a sprig of white heather growing beside the cottage and tucked it behind her ear. “Now you are ready.”
A sweet flush colored her face. “Thank you, Master… Leon.”
“We are set to proceed,” Ryce announced to the priest, handing him a braided cord of red and white. “We have no rings.”
Ryce clasped Chrisselle’s hand and the withered old man bound them together. “May God be with you and bless you. May you see your children’s children. May you be poor in misfortune, rich in blessings. May you know nothing but happiness from this day forward.” The priest nodded to Ryce.
He looked down at his youthful bride. “I, Ryce Garrett Leon, now take you, Chrisselle Buchanan, to be my wife. In the presence of God and before this witness, I promise to be a loving, faithful and loyal husband to you, until God shall separate us by death.”
She gazed up into his eyes, radiant with joy. “I, Chrisselle Buchanan, now take you, Ryce Garrett Leon, to be my husband. In the presence of God and before this witness I promise to be a loving, faithful and loyal wife to you, until God shall separate us by death.”
The ancient man waddled to their cottage and began blessing it, while Ryce untied the cord. He asked her to turn around, placing it around her delicate neck and tying it so that it was comfortably snug against her throat. He leaned over and whispered, “Now we won’t draw attention to ourselves.”
She twisted around and kissed him on the lips.
He tasted the saltiness of her tears. “Why the tears?”
“My heart wants to burst with happiness.”
He chuckled and picked her up, carrying his bride over the threshold of his home as was tradition, just in time to see the priest blessing the marriage bed. Ryce put her down gently, kissing Chrisselle on the forehead.
The old man shuffled over to them when he was done. He held out his hand and Ryce quickly pressed coins into it. “Thank you, Father.”
The withered figure bowed slightly and left their home without another word.
Ryce smiled at his pet, now wife. “You are lawfully Chrisselle Ryce Leon.”
She gracefully bowed at his feet. “I am honored, Lord.”
“No, Chrisselle, never lord, only Master.”
“Yes, Master.”
“Today, I want you to call me Ryce.”
Her eyes grew wide and she blushed deeply. Her submissive nature made it a challenge for her and it pleased him.
“It is my intention to introduce you to the community today. I do not want rumors or doubts surrounding our unexpected union. It is very important to me.”
“Yes, that would be verra nice,” she said eagerly.
He suspected she was anxious to connect with others. His carnal needs could wait until they returned from their outing. “I will saddle Eventide and we will head out.” Ryce walked to the barn to the nickering welcome of his friend.
He got out the metal comb and began brushing the thick midnight mane, desiring that they all make an impression that day. While he worked the knots out, he joked with his steed. “Yes, I have made my life as complicated as possible. I think you suspected it from the beginning.” Ryce slapped his muscular shoulder good-naturedly. “Still… she makes a fine partner.”
He started on the tail. Eventide lifted his foot threateningly when Ryce tried to brush through a particularly difficult knot of hair and twigs. “Don’t even think of it,” he warned. “If you weren’t so careless where you walked, you wouldn’t have weeds in your tail.”
The horse threw back his head several times in complaint, but his hoof remained on the ground. Once Eventide was thoroughly combed, Ryce cinched the saddle and stood back to admire his work. Eventide was an impressive beast, with his toned equine flesh, dark grey coat and long black mane and tail. However, it was his intelligence and fearless spirit that made the animal truly remarkable.
Ryce went to the chest in the back of the barn and retrieved some coins for the day’s festivities before calling Chrisselle to join him. He smirked when she weaved heather in Eventide’s mane.
“Ah, you look properly domestic,” Ryce informed his stallion.
Eventide rubbed his cheek against Chrisselle in a gesture of acceptance. It appeared his steed didn’t mind looking ‘pretty’ for her sake. Ryce whispered into his closest velvet ear, “She seems to have you under the same spell. Welcome to the club, old man.”
Ryce helped Chrisselle onto Eventide and climbed up behind her. It was a pleasant morning with the crisp Highland air and clear skies. He wrapped one arm around her waist and guided the reins with the other. Chrisselle trembled in his arms, excited at the prospect of meeting others.
He headed to Avril’s. Ryce wanted her to be the first to know. He held the woman in high esteem and did not want her to hear it from another. Ryce also trusted that her open spirit would allow her to accept the new situation between he and Chrisselle.
Avril was more than a little surprised to discover that he was recently married and that Chrisselle was the woman she had sewn the dresses for. Luckily, his young bride’s enthusiasm for Avril’s seamstress skills disarmed her reservations.
Avril shared with Chrisselle her love of her craft and the two were soon talking like sisters as she demonstrated the process. Ryce leaned against the door and listened to them with amusement. Eventually, their conversations moved on to more serious topics as the two shared their difficult childhoods. Ryce had to cut it short when they began discussing his influence on them, not enjoying the sense of discomfort their praises wrought
.
“We have many households to visit today and must be going.”
Avril appeared distraught when they readied to leave. “Please come visit soon, Avril,” Chrisselle begged.
Avril glanced at Ryce to see his reaction. He nodded and replied, “You would be welcomed.”
“It would be grand for Master Leon and I to entertain you,” Chrisselle added.
Ryce wondered if his new bride understood the image her words conjured up. He shifted himself on the saddle so it wouldn’t be so readily apparent. He turned Eventide towards the MacPherson farm next.
It appeared that the Baron had already informed the MacPhersons of the nuptials, and because of that word had spread quickly. At every house, Ryce made sure to throw coins to the children in accordance with an old wedding tradition. It helped to soften the villagers’ sentiments concerning their oddly secretive marriage. However, it was Chrisselle’s endearing personality that won people’s hearts over.
Near the end of the day, his pet was chattering on and on about the different families she’d met. Everyone had been hospitable to them except Kegan, their last stop.
His temporary sex slave had taken the news hard, giving them a chilly reception. She was not pleased when Ryce tossed coins to her eager brood. He refused to deal with her jealousy, and thanked her for keeping silent about Chrisselle before abruptly leaving.
On his way out, Kegan said, “I care nothing for her; however, I still crave time with you.” Then she added in an intimate whisper, “I will always be available for you… Master.”
He reminded her coolly, “Your treatment of my wife determines our future relationship.”
She shrugged her shoulders. “Then I suppose we have none, Lord Leon.” Kegan swished her attractive ass as she turned away and sauntered back to her offspring.
Ryce shook his head. Did she really think her feminine wiles would make up for her brazen lack of respect?
He looked skyward and saw dark ominous clouds swirling above them. “Come, wife, we must return home.” He pushed Eventide, but they were soon pelted by cold raindrops whipping about in the fierce winds. What made it far worse was the intense lightning and thunder. A lesser horse would have panicked and dumped his riders when a strike hit close by, but his stallion ignored his own welfare. By the time they made it safely to the barn, all three were chilled to the bone.
Ryce commanded Chrisselle to go and start a fire before undressing completely. He took care of Eventide, drying off his courageous steed. “I can always rely on you, old friend. Too bad I can’t invite you in to sit by the fire and share some spirits with me.”
Eventide snorted and hit Ryce in the gut playfully.
“I suppose an extra helping of feed is more appreciated.” He laid a blanket over the stallion’s back and left a generous portion of food. He ran to the cottage amidst crashing thunder and pelting rain. When he slammed the door behind him, he found a large fire roaring pleasantly and Chrisselle kneeling beside the bed, naked except for the cord around her neck. It was a stunning sight.
The new collar suited her, simple in its beauty and profound in its symbolism. Her fiery hair had grown out to her shoulders and framed her face beautifully. As far as her body, it was fully pleasing. Her pert breasts were a delectable, indulgent handful, her round ass an erotic poem, and her bare mound a seductive siren’s song to his cock.
He undressed where he was, leaving his clothes dripping over a chair, before walking over to the bed and sitting next to his pet. The wind howled angrily outside and the rain pounded the cottage relentlessly. The power of the storm added to Ryce’s libido.
“Pleasure your husband.”
Chrisselle looked up at him with those green jewels and smiled. She moved between his legs and took hold of his rigid shaft. “My handsome Master Ryce,” she purred as her lips caressed his cool but throbbing cock. Her warm tongue played with the ridge of his foreskin and she mewed when she tasted the drop of his essence caused by her attention.
Ryce stroked her red locks as she continued and then grasped the back of her head and guided her to take more of his manhood. She eagerly complied, taking him deeply. After spending the day imagining coupling with her, Ryce was overly sensitive and had to pull her off.
She glanced up at him questioningly with a hint of sadness in her eyes.
“Your husband has other plans tonight.”
Chrisselle’s smile returned, her relief at not failing him easy to read on her face.
“I want you to straddle your mound over my face while encasing your lips around my shaft.”
Her eyes widened at the prospect.
Ryce lay on the bed and motioned her to him with a seductive grin. Chrisselle giggled nervously as a large crash of thunder sounded above them. She crawled onto the bed and carefully lifted her leg over his face. He stared at her tantalizing bare sex and growled, “Come here, beautiful,” grabbing both buttocks and pressing her sweet pearl to his mouth.
She cried out as he began sucking on the erect nodule, but he soon gasped when he felt the tantalizing warmth of her mouth engulf his cock. Ryce groaned in manly satisfaction. Experiencing the smell and taste of her while she sucked on his shaft was the ultimate high.
He broke his suction on her sex and commanded quietly, “Suck harder, pet.”
Instantly the pressure on his shaft increased and he growled in satisfaction. Ryce applied the same amount of suction and soon had her squirming from the sexual torment. He slowly eased his thumb into her wet tunnel and felt her pelvis buck against him in response. Suddenly the tempo of her oral stimulation increased tenfold and he almost exploded in her mouth.
“Slow down, pet,” he barked, trying to rein in the orgasm threatening.
Chrisselle immediately stopped the motion, but did not release the pressure. His cock pulsated inside her mouth as he concentrated on the raging storm outside to halt the impending climax.
Once he had regained control, he laid his head back and gazed at her womanhood. Her outer lips were swollen, the opening dripping with her lust and her pink puckered hole begging for his attention. It was an area he had not explored yet, and their wedding night seemed a perfect time to give her a taste of the forbidden fruit. But only a taste…
“Chrisselle, I want you to make love to your Master.”
She released his cock and turned her head. “How, my husband?”
“Lie on me, I will guide my shaft into you.”
She shuddered in anticipation and repositioned herself, laying her breasts against his chest. He took his shaft in one hand and held onto her waist with the other as he pressed into her moist harbor. Her passionate cry caught in her throat when he gripped her hips and thrust himself deeper.
Ryce growled lustfully as he lifted her up and then let her tight warmth settle back down onto his cock. “Look, pet. I want you to see the beauty of your sex taking my manhood.”
She looked down and whimpered as her eager sex took his thick shaft down to the base. Chrisselle was captivated by the sensual vision of it.
While she watched, he ran his middle finger around the rim of her opening, covering his hand in her juices. Then he grabbed her ass and thrust his cock as deep as it would go. “Kiss me, wife.”
She smiled as her lips came down on his, their tongues beginning their sexual dance. While in that intimate embrace, he felt the edges of her puckered hole.
Chrisselle tensed, but did not move. He slowly teased her arsehole. Just as he was going to penetrate her with his finger, a loud crack of thunder boomed above their heads. She cried out in surprise and fear, but it only caused to excite him further. He murmured into her ear, “Let me in, pet,” as he pressed the taut opening, his finger slipping inside her untouched hole.
She was panting now, but her tongue thrust deeper into his mouth letting Ryce know her state of arousal. He pushed his finger in further, feeling the resistance of her tight muscles but gently forcing her body’s compliance. “Good girl.”
Ryce be
gan pumping his cock inside her depths as he explored her virginal hole with his finger. The deeper he pushed the more she whimpered, the more her juices flowed. It was intoxicating and took him over the edge.
With his middle finger lodged deep in her ass, his cock exploded with an abundance of his seed. Thrust after powerful thrust, he filled her with himself while thunder crashed around them. They both lay panting from the intensity of the experience.
Ryce promised himself it would be the last time he would come inside her. He could ill afford the complications or the emotional toll of Chrisselle becoming pregnant. However, he convinced himself that this had been worth the risk. He hadn’t felt such an intensive, awe-inspiring orgasm since… her.
He shook the memory of Jovita from his mind, kissing his wife’s sweaty skin instead. “You are extraordinary.”
She wrapped her arms around him, purring in contentment. “Everything you do feels good, Ryce. Everything.”
Chrisselle fell asleep to the sounds of the violent storm raging outside, sheltered in his arms. For Ryce there was a sense of overwhelming peace—and hope.
****
But memories of Jovita would come back to haunt him a few days later. He had just finished feeding Eventide and was walking back to the cottage for a quick breakfast when he saw her bent over, retching in the bushes.
A cold chill coursed through his bones. Jovita.
She had been the same way, showing signs of the pregnancy early on. Struggling to keep food down as their child grew in her belly. It had been a difficult pregnancy. It was only towards the end that Jovita had recovered and started to glow with motherhood. He’d thought they had made it through the worst of it then, having no idea what fate had in store.
A streak of crimson flashed through his mind and he howled in rage. He had done this!