by Jaide Fox
He baited her, of that, she was certain. To what purpose, she didn’t know. Her eyes narrowed. She’d been in a foul mood ever since she discovered she was to share his room ... and his bed. If she hadn’t known better, she would have surmised the lord and lady of the house deliberately set out to provoke a relationship between them rather than for the protection she’d been told she needed. “Your assumption is wrong. Lady Ashanti and I talked.”
He arched one black brow. “Oh?”
“I know what you expect. What other reason could there be in placing me in your room when there are doubtless many others to be had?”
“Perhaps you were put here for your protection? It is a castle, yes, but not impregnable. Enemies are always to be had within when you least expect it. And there are not many women to be had as desirable as you.”
“Ha!” She laughed derisively, dismayed to hear him echo her thoughts. “And what of this ... this bed....” She could hardly look at it without her body heating uncomfortably, without imagining being tangled in its covers, covered by a hard male body, Raph--
He continued grinning, wolfish as his look encompassed the decadent barrier between them. “I assure you, there is nothing quite like the feel of such finery beneath you when making love.”
She glared at him. “That will never happen.”
A long moment passed between them. He stepped from the door, gestured with a sweeping wave of his arm for her leave. “Go then, if my company is so undesirable. Choose another, but be warned, you may not enjoy the welcome you receive.”
Swan made no move to withdraw, could only watch him warily. She couldn’t help but feel she was over-reacting, yet she’d been cornered into a fight of which she had no understanding. To give in to a man’s whims without a fight was beyond her. She’d been raised to resist their baser instincts—and her own. To go against years of training herself within inches of a desirable man seemed ludicrous and contrary.
His black eyes glittered dangerously as she remained still, watchful. With his hair loose around his shoulders, he looked very much the savage of old lore. Her fingers itched to run through those silky locks.
“Better the beast you know, my lady?” Raphael said.
Yes, but she had tempted that beast before ... with results that melted her core and turned her knees to water. Remembered passion and pleasure assailed her. They were weakness she could not embrace. She couldn’t fathom why his presence disturbed her so much, why being near him made her heart stop and yet beat faster. She liked not the dizzying rush he aroused, the loss of control he invoked.
Swan swallowed, moistened her suddenly parched lips with her tongue. His gaze seized on her mouth. Her heart skipped a beat, then pumped furiously to recover. She stilled, her voice strangely hoarse. “I’ll not give you what you want.”
Raphael advanced, consuming the safety of her circle with his aura, blocking all avenue of escape. “Of what do you speak? Afraid to voice such forbidden desires?” he asked, his voice a deep rumble that raised the fine hairs on her skin.
Swan held her ground, straightened her shoulders, strengthened her resolve to remain calm. “No.”
He halted, the wide bed offering little restraint. She’d fooled herself to think it would keep him from her. He was a beastman--there could be no escape. Her muscles tensed with his proximity.
“Then what?” he asked silkily.
“My talk spurs you toward greater gall. If I had more sense, I would keep my mouth closed.”
Raphael’s voice dropped. “I could think of ways to keep it occupied. You’d have no time for talking....”
Shivers skated over her flesh, trailing chill bumps in their wake. “You think only of one thing.”
He moved around the bed. Swan took a step back. “I’m inclined to agree with you.” Raphael sighed heavily at her wary look, leaned against the carved bedpost. “Swan, delightful as this game is, I needs must forego such play for more important matters.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, slanting him a suspicious look.
“I will be frank with you since it seems that is the only way to gain your acceptance. I must mark you with my scent. It is not enough to touch you. My seed must rest within your belly.” He watched as she edged further away. “My hand is forced.”
It was unthinkable that he sought to assuage himself by denying guilt. “As mine is? I did not ask to come to this place.”
“But you wanted my help, and I intend to give it. Now I offer my protection from penetration and hurt by another.”
Swan laughed mirthlessly, a stranger to herself, thoughts of honor and nobility fleeing before her anger. “You wish only to satisfy your lusts.” Oddly, the thought of being nothing more than a tool for his desire hurt. It should not be so important to her. Women more often than not were subjugated to worse--she was no different here.
“I offer a mark that leaves no permanence. If you wish to survive, it will be done.”
Swan shuddered with the mental imagery, remembrance sharply defined as she recalled the ravenous looks she’d received since coming. She realized in that moment he was right, but just because he was did not mean she enjoyed that fact. Her experiences since Morvere attacked balled into a mass of flaming anger. Some demon stoked the fury in her soul, urging her to folly.
Defiant and seething, Swan placed her palms on the bed, bent over it like a supplicant. Her hair parted around her shoulders, pooling on the satin. Refusing to meet his eyes, she said, “Do it and be done.”
“You sorely test me, Swan.” Raphael bit off each word, his voice deadly soft.
Menace resonated from him. She’d gone too far, but there was no stopping now. He’d seen to it that she would go through with her actions. She was not one to back down in cowardice and didn’t believe, despite his veiled threat, that he would harm her, else she would never have dared such boldness.
She didn’t know what drove her to push him, to test his limits. But Shadowmere’s very deviance, its savage people and customs grated. She’d be damned if she would relent without a fight. An insane urge struck her, caused her to blurt out in taunting fashion, “Is this not the way of animals?”
He roared, a sound of such agony and rage it rent her soul. She jerked her head up, felt her body freeze. Anger burned in his eyes, in the heavy slant of his brows. He shuddered, overcome, muscles jumping with tension as his eyes bled from cold black to fiery gold in an instant.
“If this is how you wish it, so be it. You go too far with your tautns,” he gritted out, voice pained.
Raphael ripped his kurt away, throwing it to the floor. His erection jutted forth from the thatch of dark hair at its base, swollen with anger and lust. His shaft’s length and breadth were enormous, a weapon should he so choose.
It was small wonder her sex had ached from his rough possession. She shrank inside as she watched him round the bed and move toward her, knowing full well she could not go through with this now, not after meeting the haunted look in his eyes. Her childish, goading bravado vanished.
She knew she was an idiot and immediately regretted taunting him.
Swan lunged across the bed, desperate for escape, knees and hands sliding in her frenzy. He caught her in the middle, grabbed her ankles and pulled her back to the edge until she knelt on the floor with her chest pressed flat on the bed. With her hair in her eyes, she clutched at the satin, her hands slipping in the silken finery, unable to pull herself to freedom.
Rending cloth greeted her ears, followed by the soft caress of air on her naked flesh. He’d bared her completely with so little effort, it was frightening.
Swan struggled as he bent, his skin scorching as he cradled his form against her, muscles molding to her back, his hips hard against her tender buttocks. He pinned her flailing arms to the silken bed, manacling them in one hand as his shaft nestled in the cleft of her buttocks. The lips of her sex moistened with his nearness, spurring her ferocity.
Swan growled, but could do nothing but shout ob
scenities. He’d secured her beneath him, so that she could not move unless he willed it.
Raphael lay still a moment on top of her, letting her feel the weight and power of his domination.
A weakness pervaded her body at being his submissive. She should not have wanted this, but her cunt secretly thrilled at his rough aggression, flooding with juices to ease his passage inside her. Her lower belly spasmed, clenching in response. Perhaps that’s what she’d wanted all along, for him to lose his control and take it from her so that she could feel no guilt in wanting his full possession.
She was a shameful wanton and unable to admit her own desire. Unable to admit that she craved him, rough and powerful, angry and dominant.
He buried his face in her hair, breathing deeply, expelling it in a hot rush against her neck that made her blood beat faster. With one hand, he pushed the mass aside, nuzzled her neck, shuddering against her as he drew a heavy breath. “I want to give you pleasure, Swan, gentleness,” he murmured near her ear. “Why will you not allow it?” He dragged his hot mouth down her neck, branding her skin. He nipped her shoulder when she did not answer.
Swan trembled, desire warring with reluctance. He sucked the curve of her neck, rubbing his tongue against her, weakening her resistance.
Gentleness and sweet words tendered the heart. She’d been deceived by sweetness before, had been ripped asunder by the betrayal that followed her submission. To allow a man to touch her heart was unthinkable. To allow a beastman was death. There could never be anything but the fire of need between them--she could allow nothing else. Anything else would destroy the last shreds of her soul.
Were he to take her gently, with love, she did not think she could survive it.
To continue resistance could be just as detrimental. There was but one choice she could make. “I’ll not fight you, on one condition,” she said, muffled by the bed.
He ceased his perusal of her neck. “Yes?”
“Do not ... kiss me.” A kiss was too intimate, too impossible to ignore. Some said souls crossed and mated when mouths joined as one. True or not, it weakened her resolve to remain aloof. It was a risk she could not endure again--not from him.
A long minute dragged by until he sighed heavily. “Agreed.” He released her wrists and skated his palms down her arms, down further, teasing the sides of her breasts exposed by the torn edges of her gown. She shivered as he moved lower, along the dipping curve of her waist, his mouth raining kisses down the length of her spine.
Smoothing her hips, he backed away from her, teeth scraping the top of one cheek as his fingers traced the bottom crease of her buttocks.
She felt him smile against her. “You have a delightful dimple ... here.” He pointed the spot out with his tongue, lathing the smooth flesh. A shiver skimmed her spine, increasing her sensitivity to his warm touch.
Swan jerked at that wet heat, cooling rapidly as he moved lower. He dug his hands between her thighs, his thumbs rubbing her nether lips. She shivered at the unfamiliar sensation.
“Part your legs for me, Swan.”
“Why?” she asked, her breath stolen and raspy in her chest. Unbidden, an intense wash of heat pulsed between her thighs.
“I want to taste all of you,” he near growled.
A hot flood saturated her cleft, her cunt spasming at the rush caused by his guttural words. She leaned forward, resting on her stomach as he spread her legs and stroked a finger up her wet slit.
Swan grabbed fistfuls of satin, and bit the fleshy part of her hand as he nuzzled her nether lips, breathing hot against that forbidden, secret place. No man had ever dared put her in such a position.
It was too much. She’d die from anticipation.
“I’ve not nearly begun,” he murmured, muffled by her depths. The wet probe of his tongue slid into her swollen folds, teasing the entrance to her womanhood with a tickling press that had her knees nearly buckling.
When she tried to close him out, his hands gripped her powerfully, unwilling to accept her retreat. He wrapped his arms around her thighs, forcing her wide apart to accept his devouring mouth on her weeping cunt. The lap of his tongue in so intimate and untouched a place made her feel weak and submissive.
She moaned when she heard his wet slurping sounds as he drank of her body, sweeping through her juices as a man dying of thirst.
“You … should … not…,” she said on a gasp, crying out when he stabbed her anal hole—a place that had never known intimate touch.
His fingers drew a heated line around her thighs to her needful, throbbing clit. He rubbed it in rough circles, spearing her tightly puckered bud and drawing a cry of pleasure from her throat.
His chin rubbed her pussy, making her cream and buck against his rampaging mouth.
She widened the part of her thighs around his legs as he knelt between them, tilting her buttocks high to allow his access. He grunted, delved deeper then moved to her neglected pussy.
The first stroke past her aching slit against her swollen nub made her gasp for air. He flicked his tongue at a rapid tempo, slipping easily in her juices. A shock wave radiated from her core--she jerked against it, grinding back into his face, unable to control her response.
He broke away, replaced his tongue with his fingers once more, cradling her clit between the stroking digits. Nipping the crease of one buttock, he moved over the roundness until he cradled his hips against her once more, his fingers still working her in steady, teasing strokes.
“Do you want me inside you now?” he asked, hoarse with desire. The head of his shaft teased her nether lips insistently, sliding with slippery wetness against her tender lips.
She nodded, unable to give voice to her wants, knowing only that he was bringing her to that brink once more, and she ached to fall over the edge.
He stroked his satiny length up and down her slit slipping like wet silk. His cockhead, slickened with her own wetness, maddened her with thorough agony.
The stroke became a push, nudging her tight opening, prodding first her anus and then her pussy. She didn’t know which he’d penetrate first. Gods help her, she wanted him to possess both openings.
“Do you want me here?” he asked, pushing against her anus and then her cunt, “or here. Or do you want my full possession of your delicious body? You need not beg me or feel ashamed at the pleasure.”
He rumbled against her ear. “Say the words, Swan. You want this. You know you do.” He edged her sensitive opening, drawing his fingers from her clit to grasp her hips.
“Both. Gods alive. I want this,” she gritted out, pained with need. She wanted it more than anything at that moment. Pride had no place when faced with such precise, angular pleasure threatening to overwhelm her.
He shuddered at her admission
“First you will know me here,” he said, and pushed against her anus, his fingers stroking her clit, swirling her juices back to her ass to allow him access to the tight hole. The strange tickle become a push, and then his finger was inside the forbidden hole, stretching it to accept his girth.
She shuddered, pushing against him, wanting something more.
He smiled against her shoulder, replacing his tapered fingers with the mushroomed head of his cock. His fingers he moved to her vagina, stroking the hole even as he wedged himself inside her puckered bud.
A cry ripped from her throat at the foreign invasion. “Ease yourself,” he murmured. “It is a painful pleasure to accept me here, but one you will not forget.”
She tried to relax her tense muscles, but could not. He slipped one finger into her cunt and then another and curled them, stroking a spot inside that had her instantly moaning and riding his hand.
He took her mind off her ass, pushing further inside as he pleasured her pussy, rubbing his thumb against her clit, curling his fingers within her as he began a slow, languorous stroke within her ass.
She whimpered, biting her full bottom lip, lying still beneath him. The sensation of being filled there was alien and diff
erent and she wasn’t sure if she liked it or not. Only the tense shudders of his body, the spasming jerk of his cock and the glide of his fingers kept her still to him.
“I cannot take it. I need something more,” she begged, feeling sorry for her wantonness.
“As you wish, my lady,” he said.
Her body made a sucking sound as he pulled out of her backside and slipped his fingers from her sopping cunt. Se tensed as that thick member moved down, unerring to her vagina.
Slippery and wet, it held no barrier as he plunged his hard cock deep inside with one stroke. The edges of her vagina bloomed and stretched, accepting his thick girth. She cried out as he filled her completely, his own loud groan mingling with her voice. The angle was odd, pulling upward and pleasing her in a way never felt before. She bit her lip as he pulled slowly out, a withdrawal that jerked her with sensation.
His hard, muscular chest crowded the soft curves of her spine and buttocks, feeling forceful, possessive and controlling.
She arched her neck back, allowing him to bite the delicate column as he pushed wholly inside her channel again. He stayed there for a moment, allowing her to feel his full erection claiming her insides, stretching her to the limit of her endurance.
“And now you know what it is to be possessed by a beastman,” he ground out, savaging her neck with his teeth. A shudder erupted from his tense muscles, reverberating in her body.
Her pussy clenched on a hard gush, sucking at his cock as if to eat more of him.
Hot lips branded her neck, the hollow behind her ear. His hands gripped her breasts with full possession, pinching her nipples until the ached. He dragged her up to meet him, bent over, with her buttocks spread and pliable for his invasion. Having her in that supplicating position seemed to drive him wild.
A madness overtook him, and he withdrew, only to sink inside again, faster, faster, until his hips slapped against her round buttocks, sounding loud in the room. She felt his sac smack her clit, the rough hair of his legs rubbing against her. He pulled her hips back to meet each thrust, guiding her movement and driving into her harder and harder.