by Mlyn Hurn
Drakkor’s smile curved his lips upwards and Jocienne felt something move inside her, but she didn’t want to acknowledge what it might mean. “Of course it matters, Jocienne. Beauty has always been a powerful motivator for men. Have not many wars in both our region’s histories told a similar tale time and again?”
Jocienne watched as he lowered himself to lie beside her on the bed. She half expected him to thrust inside her without further ado, just as she had seen that other man do a short time earlier. Instead, Drakkor reached out with his hand and lightly ran his finger down over her forehead, between her eyes and down the curve of her nose. When he reached her lips, he traced the outside of her mouth with a gentle, whisper-light touch.
“Beauty is what draws a man and woman together. Would you be as affected by my touch if I were an old man? What would your reaction be if my flesh hung from my bones instead of being stretched taut by my muscles, hardened from hours of practice with my soldiers?”
Jocienne shrugged, unsure of an answer. Drakkor didn’t wait long for an answer though. “I do not deny that your beautiful, clear eyes are what caught my attention when we first met all those years ago. We were only children, but I knew that you were promised to me.”
Drakkor moved his hand down to cup her breast. “As your body developed, I lusted after you for long hours into the night. I spent countless hours imagining us like this, in a bed together. My hand was the only way to satisfaction until I discovered that I could imagine your face while I fucked another woman’s body.”
“No!” Jocienne cried out, feeling her tears beginning to slide out the sides of her eyes, wetting her temples and hair. She watched as Drakkor lowered his head and enveloped her closest nipple with his mouth. He sucked the taut and distended bud gently, teasing the ring with his tongue.
“Oh yes, my slave! No more!”
Drakkor shifted and started to move down Jocienne’s body. His mouth pressed kisses to her belly as he continued to work his way towards the apex of her thighs. Suddenly Drakkor slid off the bed to kneel at the side and dragged Jocienne with him until her knees dropped over the edge. When she felt his breath flowing over her shaven mound, she pressed her upper body off the bed with her elbows and hands.
“You should not do this, Drakkor,” her voice told him softly.
Drakkor shook his head and lifted her one thigh to drape over his shoulder. “Why shouldn’t I? I want to pleasure your body. I want to hear you scream out as another orgasm drowns your senses and your fluids drench my face instead of my hand. No more words!”
Drakkor lowered his head and a second later Jocienne experienced the feel of a man’s lips and tongue on her pussy and clit. Soon his fingers joined in the sensual seduction, slipping inside her body to probe for that special place.
* * * * *
Drakkor licked his tongue over and around her tiny bud of flesh, hidden beneath the hood of soft lips. Her body jerked and reacted wildly to his touches again. He felt her fingers in his hair, pulling and trying to move him away. For some unknown reason, her father had broken their bridal contract shortly after Jocienne’s fifteenth birthday. That had been the last time he had seen her until the other day.
Her arrival at his father’s home had been set for when she was sixteen. Jocienne was to live in his father’s castle until age eighteen, when they would be wed. His father began sending emissaries to his old friend’s palace, to inquire as to why the girl had not been sent as promised. He and his father, along with a large contingent of soldiers, had arrived on Jocienne’s seventeenth birthday.
This time they were denied entrance to the palace grounds at all. Among the royal families, except in times of war, such treatment was unheard of. Drakkor’s father had exercised amazing restraint as they camped outside the grounds for almost a month. Drakkor himself knew that if it were not for his father, he would have acted much sooner. Finally, his father declared war, due to breach of the wedding contract.
As the war raged on, Drakkor lost his father, and not long after, his mother. Rumors circulated which claimed Jocienne had run off with a knight in her father’s household, until finally it leaked out that she had been sent to a convent when she was fifteen.
His mind had run rampant over what would have caused a father to send his only child away so suddenly, and then break ties with a life-long friend, Drakkor’s father. Both men were now dead, and Drakkor was the winner with Jocienne in his bed. She tugged harder on his hair and Drakkor reluctantly lifted his mouth from her flesh.
“It is wrong!” she told him in a strained voice, her eyes showing her personal torment between the teachings drummed into her head for more than two years by the convent nuns and the passion she was feeling beneath his hands.
Drakkor met her eyes and shook his head. “How could anything that feels this good and right be wrong, Jocienne?”
Jocienne sank back onto the bed, her hands knotting in the sheets beneath her instead of his hair. Drakkor returned his tongue to the seductive teasing of her clit while his fingers resumed their erotic dance inside her body. A few seconds later, or perhaps a minute, he heard Jocienne crying out. Her body was climaxing and he licked the passion juices her body rewarded his efforts with a moment later.
“Fuck me, Drake!” Jocienne screamed using the childhood name she would call him when they played their games alone.
* * * * *
Jocienne shocked herself as she demanded that Drakkor take possession of her body once again. Her body was contracting, shivering and jerking in response to his touch. She could feel her cunt muscles begging to suck his cock into her flesh.
“I need you inside me…I can’t explain it, Drake. Fill me with your cock!”
Drakkor thrust into her body a second later. Without his telling her, Jocienne pulled her legs upwards and held them in place. She looked into his eyes as she spoke again. “Tell me what you want me to do. What can I do to make this—”
Drakkor eased back from her tight flesh. “Turn over, Jocie, and raise up on your knees.”
Jocienne’s gasp of acknowledgement was loud as she realized he wanted her like the slave they had seen earlier. Her heart raced and she nervously caught her breath. She flipped over on the bed and came up onto her knees. Drakkor’s hand pressed on her upper back, directing her to lower her head to the bed. Suddenly the silence in the room seemed to be an active presence as her senses went into overdrive.
Her breasts hung heavily from her body. The taut, pierced nipples brushed against the silky sheets with each breath. She could feel her pussy quivering and wondered if Drake could see its tiny explosive reactions. A moment later she felt his cock pressing against her wet flesh and the quivering skin spread as he entered her body. His entry was slow, making it last as her cunt gobbled him inside.
Drakkor’s hands moved from her hips as he rested fully inside Jocienne’s body. She felt his large hands stroking over her ass cheeks, curling his strong fingers into the round globes. His touch, the caress of hands across her skin, reminded her of the gentleness they once shared. Closing her mind to the past, Jocienne sighed and pressed back against him, wiggling her bottom.
“Keep that up, Jocie, and this won’t last long!” Drakkor groaned and his hands moved to her hips.
“Now! Do it now, Drake! Don’t wait…please!”
Jocienne felt him pulling back and a moment later he thrust into her again. Jocienne groaned, as she felt fuller than she had before. Before she could get used to the feeling, Drakkor’s hands were holding her hips steady and he began thrusting forward into her body. The slap of his balls against her wet pussy and mound seemed loud to her, but then she was distracted by the realization that this position was causing sensations and feelings that were new, wildly erotic and spiraling beyond any kind of control.
Jocienne climaxed again and shoved her hips back against Drakkor’s forward movement. She heard him shout and felt his hands clench into the flesh at her hips. His short, quick thrusts came suddenly and Jocienne knew t
hat he was spraying her womb with his seed.
* * * * *
Drakkor held his body pressed closed to Jocienne’s as his cock stopped jetting his cum into Jocienne’s body. He grabbed several pillows and pushed them under her belly before he pulled out of her body. As he sat down beside her, he told her with a smile.
“You need to stay like this for a little while.” Drakkor flopped back to lie next to her, turning his head to look into her eyes. “God, Jocie! That was incredible!”
A bright flush stained Jocienne’s cheeks a moment later. Drakkor rolled onto his side and slid one hand forward under her body. He began to lightly flick against her nipple with his finger.
“Once you have a big belly, we’ll be making love this way until the baby is born. I keep wondering how big your tits will get when you are breast-feeding. By that time your nipples will be healed enough to remove the rings for feedings.”
Drakkor paused as he felt the shiver that went through her body. “Your body certainly changed a lot since I last saw you.”
“I was only fifteen!” Jocienne pushed the pillows away. She moved quickly and straddled Drakkor’s waist. “And you don’t look much like you did either!”
Drakkor was surprised at Jocienne’s actions. The look on her face appeared almost playful to him. He moved his hands to her waist and her hands came forward to rest on his chest. It was impossible to look away from the deep cleavage her breasts now formed, pressed closely together by her arms. The chain dangled much lower and swung back and forth.
“I was twenty-one the last time you saw me. Granted I’ve aged a little, but I am quite sure that I am as fit now as I was then.” He paused and encouraged her to lift him. His cock was hard again, her flesh wet and soft to welcome him eagerly inside once again.
“I won’t dispute that, Lord Drakkor. But you are bigger now; more solid is perhaps the word I am searching for.”
“Hmm. I’m not sure how to take that one. But if we want to talk about something getting bigger—” Drakkor slid his hands upwards. His fingers spread to cover her breasts as best he could.
“A gentleman wouldn’t mention this,” Jocienne told him quietly, sliding her hands to rest on her thighs. Her breasts, no longer forced together by her arms, filled his hands more fully.
“Perhaps that is true, my sweet. But any man would notice the change between a flat-chested girl and these fine specimens of womanhood.” His hands began to busily squeeze and caress her large breasts. His fingers would tease her nipples every so often, lightly circling the quickly elongating nipples, and occasionally flicking at the rings and tugging on the chain lightly. Every so often his hands would bounce and jiggle each bountiful, fleshy globe.
Drakkor couldn’t resist her nipples, which now poked out nearly three-fourths of an inch. Deserting her breasts for a moment, his hands lowered to the bed so he could push his upper body towards her breasts. His mouth lowered until he could lick each pierced nipple. His tongue tugged gently on the ring and the slight tensing of her body told him she was still quite tender. Lifting his head, he flopped back onto the bed. He smiled up at her.
“As soon as those pretty nipples are healed, I am going to show you the many different ways I can suck and play with them.”
The shiver that coursed through Jocienne’s body, right down to the muscles that were surrounding his cock, could not be missed. Drakkor groaned and shifted his hips upwards. He was surprised a moment later when Jocienne began to move her hips, making small circular movements, followed by some very erotic forward and backward shifting of her body.
“Damn!” Drakkor muttered, gripping Jocienne’s undulating body with his hands.
“You didn’t like that? Master,” she added so softly that Drakkor wasn’t sure he had heard her correctly.
Narrowing his lids, he met the eyes of the woman he’d loved for as long as he could remember. Childhood friendship had changed over time. When he had come with his father to fetch his bride, Drakkor had known that he loved Jocienne. He opened his mouth to reply when Jocienne interrupted him. The corners of her full lips curved upwards slightly. He felt her hands move to his chest, her palms directly over his nipples. A moment later her fingers were curling under and biting into his flesh.
“Ugh,” Drakkor muttered in response to the slight stinging pain. “The kitten has tiny claws, does she?”
Chapter 4
Jocienne relaxed her fingers and slowly began tightening the flesh and muscles that held him inside her body. Watching his face, she saw the changes the instant he felt them. His will was still as strong as hers, she had realized earlier with a start of surprise. And while she was unsure yet as to why he had purchased her, in his eyes she saw the friend she had had until shortly after her fifteenth birthday. Whatever his true feelings for her might be now, she was falling under his sexual spell. There was also the growing fear that her love for him was returning as well.
Abruptly she tensed her thighs and began lifting and lowering her body. The slow drag of his cock back out of her tight pussy, followed by the erotic reinsertion left her shaking after only a few movements. A moment later she heard her own voice telling him things she’d rather have kept secret.
“I can feel you so deep inside me, Drake. You have stuffed me full of your hard cock, and all I want is more. I want to feel the hot spurt of your seed inside my body.” She clutched her fingers again into his chest muscles as her cunt muscles responded to her words. “Fill me with your cum, Master. I want to drip your seed and know that you were inside me such a short time ago. And when you speak of a child—”
Jocienne’s voice trailed away and she closed her eyes. Her hands left his body and moved to curve over her belly. “I can almost feel your child growing in me already! Yet how can that be? When you talked about him suckling at my breasts…Oh, God!”
Jocienne stopped as her muscles reacted to her words. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Drakkor move one hand towards the juncture of their joined bodies. His finger was quickly coated with her juices and he began to dance a truly seductive rhythm upon her clit, delving deep within the tender folds of flesh that concealed it. She moved her hand to his.
“Are you taking control once again, Master?” she questioned him quietly.
“I think you are the one in control here, slave! You seem to be able to manipulate my body more skillfully than a highly trained courtesan.”
“Is that what I am to you now, Drake? Will I be your whore for the rest of my life, long after you cast me aside for another woman? I fear I will always crave this, no matter what my brain tells my body.” Her eyes closed as she accepted the truth of her words. “Is that all this is? Am I only a slave for you to fuck?”
* * * * *
Drakkor’s hand paused in its steady and very effective movements. Her hips were gyrating and bouncing on his cock, and he sensed that soon he would feel her climax once again. Which would naturally set off his, and he would be shooting his cum into her body. Her words brought back the pain of the rejection he’d felt when he first heard the rumor that Jocienne had eloped with another man.
Then he heard the story about her entering a convent. He’d been tortured to think that she’d chosen a life of celibacy rather than his touch. Suddenly he reached up and grabbed fistfuls of her beautiful hair. Pain and anger drove his words and actions.
“Why did you go to that damned convent? Did I scare you with my first eager touches? Did they cut all your hair off? Is that what aroused you watching that woman’s humiliation? Perhaps that is what you want me to do.”
It only took a second and Drakkor was holding a knife, which had been hidden, at the top of the bed. He lifted it to the lock of her hair he still held in one hand. Without pause he sliced through the hair, severing it off forever. The hair seemed to burn his hand and he released it instantly and it fell to his abdomen. Shocked at his violent action, Drakkor flung the knife across the room and it embedded itself deeply into the wall. Looking up at Jocienne’s face h
e saw that her freshly cut hair flopped limply across her cheek.
Her face was tilted down and the hair, shorn to mid-cheek on one side, fell forward and concealed her expression. He wasn’t sure what she would do until a second later she erupted. Her hands beat at his chest and tried to slap his face. But she also erupted internally. Her orgasm seemed to come from nowhere and was shaking her violently. Drakkor grabbed her body and pulled her down to his chest, despite her fighting. He twisted their bodies until he was lying on top of her. His hands pressed her arms flat to the bed on either side of her head.
For one of the few times in his life, Drakkor was unsure of whether to continue, or—
“Fuck me, damn you!” Jocienne screamed at him, her voice echoing off the walls. “Fuck me now!”
Drakkor obeyed the true master in this new relationship of his and fucked the beautiful woman beneath him. Over and over he thrust his cock into her body, pulling back out and feeling her flesh sucking his cock and holding onto it tenaciously. He blocked out the voice in his head telling him to stop. It was too late for logic. As he felt her cunt climaxing, he groaned and began shooting his seed as high into her body as he possibly could.
* * * * *
Drakkor awakened slowly and reluctantly. He had no idea how long he’d been asleep, but instinctively he reached out to pull Jocienne close. His hand only found empty linens and he sat up immediately. Completely alert now, Drakkor looked around the room. His eyes caught on the knife still embedded in the far wall. He cursed his father’s need for over-protectiveness, which had been the start of hiding the knife under his pillow at the beginning of the war.
“You made an awful mess of my hair, damn you.”
Drakkor turned at the sound of the calm voice, in spite of the words. Jocienne was walking towards him, naked. One breast was concealed by her long hair and the other was bare, save for its adorning ring and chain. Her beautiful black hair was cut to half way up her earlobe. He had grabbed such a large handful that the cut extended to back beyond her ear.