Savage and mindless creatures wandered the frozen northern tundra. None went there willingly. Rhemna was a favorite dumping ground for incorrigible criminals who either died quickly or went insane from the neverending ice storms. However, even intimidation would not move her to answer and he didn’t think he could hold to his threat, for what if she were already carrying his child? Or was she counting on that? Perhaps Enovese refused to speak for such information would surely help him set a course of action. He decided that the odds of her being in heat on the exact day of the Harvest were unlikely. Moreover, her shock at his accusation had been genuine; whatever her plans, pregnancy wasn’t one of them.
“Since you have refused to answer, I will ensure that such an event will not come to pass.” He ordered her to step before him and he traced a possessive finger across her tightly compressed lips. “Your mouth has already proved most pleasurable.”
Her face betrayed not a flicker of emotion, but anxiety simmered in her eyes. His knowing smile unnerved her and ever-so-slowly, her truculent nose lifted with determination, but the movement did not fool Chur. Her breath was uneven, catching and releasing as sweat began to bead along her forehead.
“Defiant servants must be punished, Enovese. Remember that I told you never to defy me. Since you insist on doing so, I will make you regret your decision.” He let the threat hang in the air between them as he considered her from head to toe. The shapeless robe hid every aspect of her form, yet he knew what lay beneath. With a murmur, he ordered her to remove the robe. When she hesitated, he grasped the edge and pulled so sharply the tiny clasps broke. Enovese uttered a gasp of surprise, then quickly shucked the garment before he could damage it further. He had no idea how many robes she had but he didn’t care. If she had to run around naked, that was her fault for defying him.
To his surprise, she was not nude below the rough fabric. She wore a thin shift that hung to her knees. The cut of the garment was simple but enticing in that the weave was thin enough to reveal shadows of her nipples. Extending his hands, he captured the relaxed peaks and twisted until they stood at attention. Her intake of breath lifted her breasts, causing the fabric to tent around her now fully erect nipples. Tracing his fingers around and between her pert breasts, he managed to press the fabric against her belly, thus revealing the shadow of regrowing hair. Lowering his hands to her hips, he pulled the fabric closer to her skin. Against the beige fabric, her hair cast a patch of tawny coco and reddish brown. Stubble caught and pulled in the thin weave.
His heart pulsed in heavy strokes, overheating his body even though all he wore was the loincloth. His cock swelled, pushing against the black astle with each thud of his heart. The silken fabric teased his flesh, and the need to possess her again caused his hands to shake as he explored her shift-covered form. Before she could see him quaver and exploit his want, he roughly slipped his hand between her thighs and pushed his fingers into her sex. Her wetness soaked the fabric and allowed a light texture to enhance the thrust of his fingers.
“How wet you are, my paratanist. How eager you must be to feel the sting of my wrath.” Rocking his hand back and forth, he worked more of his fabric-covered fingers into her swollen sex. He still didn’t quite understand why he chose to punish her with pleasure; perhaps so he could indulge himself without regrets for she had forced him into it.
Enovese closed her eyes and her face dipped low, as if she were ashamed of her arousal. Then she followed his movements, angling her hips forward, forcing his hand to ride up high with each stroke. Pleased by her eagerness, he rubbed harder and faster, then realized it was more than sexual pleasure she sought.
With a laugh, he pulled his hand away. “It itches, doesn’t it?”
She gritted her teeth and nodded curtly.
Chur knew well that insidious itch of regrowing hair. Nothing really soothed, and scratching the itch only begged more scratching. He felt no pity for her; in fact, he was pleased she suffered the interminable annoyance he had put up with three times over. It was an aggravation he suffered himself at the moment, but the astle fabric was far more forgiving than what she wore. As he considered his next move, he thought of ways to increase her torment in that area. On a deep breath, the scents of the food on the table caused his mouth to water, but he wanted a banquet of a different sort.
He had Enovese stand before the table and lower her chest against the surface so her bottom stuck up high. The shift draped over her, offering another erotic hint of curves and shadows that he was compelled to explore. Even though Enovese remained silent, the little noises she made at the back of her throat conveyed a lustful enjoyment and a somewhat fearful expectation. Grasping her bound hair, he molded it along her back until it flowed down between her cheeks. He then moved the edges of the shift up around her hips to expose her legs while keeping her bottom covered. She had beautiful legs. Her muscles were long and strong, the curves of which only enhanced the fragility of her ankles.
“Are you willing to answer my questions?”
She remained mute, so he ordered her to rise on tiptoe so taut muscles drew lines under her flesh. He explored leisurely, taking his time even when she trembled with fatigue. Allowing her to plant her feet flat on the floor elicited a groan of relief that caused him to chuckle wickedly.
Now he turned his attention to her bottom. He pulled her bound hair aside and lifted the shift to expose her backside. Again, he explored this new vision. Bent over as she was, her buttocks formed a heart-shape and caused the dimples to disappear. Her waist seemed impossibly small from this angle. He gripped her hips, marveling in the silky texture of her flesh. As he leaned near, he caught a hint of nervous sweat and saw tiny beads forming along her back. He took another deep breath and found the aroma of her trepidation intoxicating. Lowering his gaze, he decided he did not like her thighs pressed together so tightly, but when he ordered her to part her legs, she refused.
Baffled by her continual defiance, Chur suddenly understood that Enovese wanted him to punish her. Something in her needed him to take control and force her to do what she secretly wanted to do anyway. Enovese did not want him to coax her, she wanted his power and authority to overwhelm her and remove her choice. Chur found this difficult to reconcile with what he had learned of her last night. She’d been deeply upset that she’d had no choice in becoming a paratanist, but now she wanted him to make choices for her? Or was he really doing that? He wasn’t truly forcing her if she honestly wanted him to punish her. He began to wonder just who was in control of this situation, and he had a sneaking suspicion the person in charge wasn’t him.
Testing the waters, he grumbled, “I should spank you like a disobedient child.”
Her soft groan and a subtle lifting of her bottom was more than an answer, her motion was practically an inducement. Chur had never struck anyone except in battle, and then, only men. Afraid of hurting her, he delivered a tentative slap to her buttock. Her fragile white flesh quivered, but his blow left no mark. She did not react. In quick succession, he slapped her bottom twice, causing a rosy glow to spread. A confusing mix of excitement and shame washed over him when he saw the mark of his hand against her. He wanted to stop, and yet he wanted to continue. He took a deep breath and smacked her again, hard enough to jostle her against the table.
Enovese moaned low, hungry, and lifted her bottom, angling up, presenting herself so that he could see the wetness between her thighs. As he leaned near to inspect her, he could smell and almost taste the alluring aroma of her passion. He realized he did not have to spank her hard, just the quickest flick would blush her skin, flushing the white to pink, exciting her in a way he did not fully understand. As he examined her from all angles, he noticed her pulse pounding in her neck as she panted. She’d shut her eyes tightly and her teeth nibbled at her bottom lip as she held herself steady, awaiting the next slap.
6
When the blow didn’t come, Enovese tentatively opened her eyes. Chur stood beside the table. His speculative gaze met
hers. His summer-sky eyes penetrated, causing her to feel so vulnerable that she almost looked away, but that would show the truth of her fear. She was terrified that he would understand what she did not. Enovese forced herself to hold his gaze in a desperate bid not to reveal more than she already had.
At first, she’d defied answering his questions, for she did not want to tell him the horrible truth of her station, but then his anger excited her, and when he’d had her bend over the table, she eagerly sought his punishment. She hadn’t had anything particular in mind until he offered to spank her. Hot wetness flooded her sex and she’d lifted her bottom in invitation. From the first tentative smack of his calloused hand to her tender flesh, she’d only grown wetter and more aroused. Her nipples pressed into the table so hard she wouldn’t be surprised to see dents in the wooden surface when she stood.
With an intense concentration on his face, Chur removed the black loincloth from his hips. His movements were silky, seductive, utterly in control. His penis pulsed with arousal and stood out from his body. He dropped the cloth and wrapped one calloused fist around the base of his shaft. Holding steady, he didn’t move his hand up and down as she expected. He gripped himself, then released, several times, as if to thicken his already rigid cock. Veins stood out, darkening the tip, and a shadow of regrowing black hair caused his sack to seem bigger and fuller than ever. The short hairs on his chest and arms enhanced his muscles, shadowing them, making him seem one step up from a wild man.
As her gaze darted to his face, she discovered his eyes had darkened, his lids lowered, giving him a sinister expression that caused another gush of heat between her thighs. His hot gaze darted from her eyes to her mouth. She licked her lips.
One corner of his mouth lifted. “A lovely invitation, but as I said, I already know how pleasurable your mouth is.” He stopped teasing himself and moved out of her line of sight.
Enovese stayed still and fought to tame her breath. Her insides churned and she couldn’t stop the quiver shivering along her back. Laying facedown on the table with her bottom lifted caused a strange sensation of pleasure. She felt exposed, vulnerable, and yet not knowing what he would do next was undeniably arousing. She did not hear him approach her from behind, but she felt the heat of his body replace the cool breeze that soothed her flushed buttocks. He lifted her hips and placed a pillow between her and the table, then moved back. Still, his body heat increased the warmth until that same heat flooded into her sex.
She squirmed and he ordered her to hold still. For a breathless moment, she held herself steady for another spanking, but then felt his oil-covered hands smoothing along her bottom. He worked the muscles, murmuring for her to relax. Exhaling, she let her body go limp against the table and closed her eyes. Kneading his fingers into her smacked bottom stung slightly, but as he continued, the massage relaxed her to the point she almost fell into a blissful slumber.
Her eyes popped wide when he slipped his hand between her buttocks, probing his thick finger against her taut ring of muscles. The sensation was not new, as he had done so during the end of the Harvest ritual, but now he probed with more intent, as if to open her for something much larger than his finger.
As she pictured him gripping his cock, squeezing and releasing, now she imagined a different objective—as if he were showing her how dangerous a tool he wielded. Preparing her with his fingers was a kindness. At any moment, he could force his prick into her. She had no defense.
Her gasping pants hurt her lungs. She could not catch her breath. Her entire body grew tense with fear, yet he continued to explore her dark cavern. Forcing his knee between her legs, he parted her thighs effortlessly, gaining greater access and making her feel ever more vulnerable.
“Chur, stop, I’ll answer your questions.”
He did not respond with words, only slid his finger in and out of her secret depth with more deliberate strokes. All at once, she wanted him to cease but also to continue. Shame filled her for she did, indeed, crave to be his servant, knowing only his wants and needs, allowing his desires to dictate hers. But this, this was too much. His thick shaft penetrating her virgin sex without the cushioning of estal oil had been painful. She still felt a twinge from the invasion. To even think of his massive cock buried in her virginal ass caused her to clench tightly for such an act seemed impossible. If she couldn’t take him fully into her mouth, how would he ever fit there?
Panicked, she tried to lift up and face him to beg for surcease. Chur pressed one massive hand to the small of her back and held her against the table.
With a growling menace, he said, “You had your chance to obey, Enovese. Against my own word, I gave you several chances, yet you continued to defy me. Now you will suffer my punishment.”
She well remembered him saying his fury was a side of him she would not wish to see, but regret would not stop the penalty for disobeying him. He cruelly ignored her pleas. The more she begged, the more deliberately he thrust into her. One oil-slicked finger became two. Just when she became accustomed to the invasion, two became three. Pain flared and retreated. Her only defense came when she discovered if she relaxed to the assault, the ache lessened. Once she went limp, to her shock, the dull pain turned to throbbing pleasure. His thrusts caused her sex to gush uncontrollably for that was where she wanted him most. If only she’d told him the truth, he would eagerly plunge himself into her now-rippling passage. At the brink of screaming her regret and acquiescence, Chur stopped all movements.
For a long moment, Enovese waited for him to remove his fingers and plunge his cock into her. The moment spun out, timeless and frightening.
“Move.”
Unsure of exactly how he wanted her to move, she held still.
“Ride my hand.”
Tentatively, Enovese rocked back. Chur held his hand steady so she could impale herself on his thick fingers. At first she moved reluctantly, but when she realized the power had shifted back to her, her movements became more wanton, willing, and downright desperate. His fingers were no longer enough to fill the need that burned inside. Her thrusts grew frantic. She could well imagine the veins in his arm standing out as he tried to hold steady. When the pillow fell to the floor she barely noticed for she had lifted off the table to better angle her body for the welcomed penetration of his fingers.
On the brink of a shattering orgasm, Chur stilled her movements with a hand pressed to the small of her back. He ordered her to stay still. A desperate groan shook her and she waited for what seemed forever. She knew Chur had moved away, for the lack of his body heat caused a cool breeze to wash along her burning bottom and dripping sex. Behind her, she heard him doing something at the bathing area. Washing his hand, perhaps, she thought. The splash of water stopped. Chur stood beside the table gazing down at her.
Now his eyes were feverishly bright. He shot a stream of oil to his hand, then roughly cupped his sex. One large fist wrapped around the shaft, then slid up and down. Oil slick and pulsing, his cock loomed large, treacherous. Chur groaned as his gaze darted between her lips and her fully exposed bottom.
Watching him tease his cock entranced her. The oil glistened, enhancing the pulsing veins that grew thicker with each stroke. Every muscle in his arm strained, showing off his power, reminding her of his prowess in battle. His breath grew labored, and her breath matched the pace of his. She felt each stroke into her, alternately into her mouth, her sex, or her newly awakened ass.
“Tell me.”
Enovese instantly knew what he wanted. Despite the power plays they had explored this night, Chur could not bring himself to force her to do anything against her will. Offering her a choice between pleasuring him with her mouth or bottom, Enovese knew what she wanted, but more so, what he needed. Chur didn’t have to compel her, for he had primed her to the point she craved what she once feared. Despite her trepidation, Chur would not hurt her in this final possession of the last of her virginity. Yet, too, she knew, after this, she could never go back. Chur would own her utterly
.
In the ancient tongue, she said, “I freely give myself to you.” She left off “as my bondmate” for he would balk at that.
Chur shook his head. “Let there be no question, Enovese.”
Boldly, she met his gaze and said, “I want you to slide your cock up my ass.” Her vulgar words flushed a hot blush across her face, but she refused to look away. She meant what she said. “I’m not afraid anymore. I know you won’t hurt me. I’m begging you to finish what you started.”
A slight smile lifted the edge of his mouth, softening the twist of the scar that marred his face. He moved out of her line of sight, but she felt his heat rolling out in waves against her behind.
“Open yourself to me.” Chur didn’t ask, he didn’t order, he simply commanded.
Pressing herself against the table, Enovese lifted her hands and spread her buttocks for him. Her action was the final show of her willingness. Wantonly, she exposed herself to him, begging him without words to take her. Desire overwhelmed her fear, and she closed her eyes to focus fully on his ultimate possession.
A pressing insistence settled against her rosebud. The very tip of his cock felt too large. She suddenly changed her mind and let go of her cheeks. Pressing her hands against the table, she leaned up, ready to move away from his thrust. Chur didn’t move. His labored breaths puffed against her sweaty back, but he stood statue-still. After a deep breath, Enovese moved back until the swelling knob of his cock once again pressed against her oil-slicked and finger-readied passage. She gasped at the sheer size of him and pulled away, expecting him to press forward, but he did not.
“Move, Enovese. Direct the pace and timing. I will wait for you.” His strangled voice conveyed his desire in terms of his need. By his choice, Chur could do any and all he wanted to her, but he found far more pleasure in compliance than coercion.
Wicked Harvest Page 5