Breeding Call: Virgin Initiations (BDSM Erotic Romance) (Bred in Underfalls)

by Mitchell, Arthur

  Axel rose on his strong legs, stretching his back. She heard the snap of his vertebrae from across the room.

  “Hope you've had a good rest. We're running a little behind schedule. Now, please take off your clothes...unless you want me to do it for you.” His eyes narrowed.

  Jordan's breath caught in her throat, and for a second, she felt as though she might fall and go back into the dreary sleep. An excited peal rang within her as he took several steps toward the bed. She couldn't hide her lust from him, and she knew it.

  He had given her a direct request – an order she was trained since adolescence to obey. With rosy crimson painting her cheeks, she sat up and felt for the back of her dress. There were only a few pockets that laced it together.

  Her fingers trembling, Jordan started to unbind the first. The strings felt heavy in her hands and fell apart after struggling for a full minute before she moved to the next.

  The entire time, Axel never looked away. His face was growing hungrier, crossed with a contrary appreciation for her seductive innocence, and a burning need to take her.

  “Let it fall,” he said, after the third and last pocket binding her back was open.

  Jordan shook her shoulders, forcing the airy fabric to slide down her chest. Cool stillness greeted her naked chest for the first time in his little home, so sudden that she coughed slightly. The jostling motion caused her firm breasts to bounce, teasing him mere feet away with her pinkish, pointed nipples.

  “Good. You're a delight to behold, but a little too slow for my liking. Make way for me, Jordan, and I'll finish what you so beautifully started.” Axel shook off the thick vest over his chest, leaving him with nothing but a thin shirt, which came off in one swoop.

  Axel's chest was like the horizon beyond the Great Lake, perfect hills of stone that were smooth, except for the faintest flecks of dark hair. He shook off his boots and trundled over to the bed, rubbing her calves with his thick skinned feet as he climbed on next to her.

  The mattress sank with his weight. Jordan's dress had crumpled down to her waist, and her heaving breasts drove him to act, like a clockwork engine lubricated with desire. His strong arms wound around her back and he pulled her onto him, until she was pressed against his hot iron chest.

  “This is like unwrapping a harness after bagging the very best buck. Except you, little rabbit, are a thousand times tastier.” He pried open his lips and brought a thick tongue out, lapping upward at her swinging breasts.

  “Ahhh!” Jordan hissed like she were getting an inoculation from pine needles coated in fever dew. His mouth enveloping her raw nipple was as unexpected as a shot, but infinitely more pleasant.

  Axel's mouth started to suck, drawing her in, hard enough to tease her plump breast with the edge of his stubble. Her eyes rolled as his coarse, wet warmth slathered her naked skin.

  “Don't leave me just yet,” he chuckled. “We haven't even gotten started.”

  His hands fell upon her more eagerly, shredding the last few pockets the rest of the way down her dress. When she was open, all the way to the backs of her legs, he drew her out like a soft oyster sliding from its shell.

  And into his mouth, into his hands, into his landscape of muscles she came. Axel's fingers dug into the flesh of her ass and clenched, hard enough to make her writhe. He drew himself up to her opposite breast, tasting her skin with ready lips and teeth.

  Jordan's flesh turned into a sultry mess. She didn't even notice him forcing her hands behind her back an instant later, a thick cord of animal skin in his hands that he had drawn from underneath the bed.

  “Shhh...enough with your struggling. I have something that will help ease the fear.” He started to wind the rope around her wrists, until she couldn't pull her hands apart.

  Cool buckskin straps held her wrists together, surrendering what little control she had left. Jordan sensed that he could have done anything to her in those eager moments, but it made her feel oddly...secure.

  “Give everything to him, my daughters. No matter how gruff, rough, or mysterious your male's commands. You must surrender.” In her mind, Jordan heard Father Skarr's frequent encouragements looping endlessly.

  The priest's soft voice seemed to be there in the room, whispering in her ear. Actually, it was Axel's, gently serenading her into compliance.

  During her pleasurable trance, they had switched positions. Now, Jordan lay beneath him, his huge body straddling her thin frame as he worked to bind her hands to the bar of bone above the bed. When she was tied down, her fists shook, giving fitful jerks. He had tied it taut enough to immediately bring her hands back into place, no matter how hard she pulled.

  “No more struggle. No more pain. Jordan Whiteshore, this is the moment you've been waiting for your entire life – possibly the moment I've always dreamed of too. I am honored to be your first mate, and I promise you, I won't give your body one idle second of rest. Not until you're pregnant.” Axel's hands wrapped around her thighs, splitting her apart.

  Somewhere in the tussle, his pants had come off, exposing his enormous manhood to her for the first time. His shaft was shaped like a magnificent root, long and thick, capped with just the smallest hint of hair. She had never imagined it going anywhere but her moist cavern, but she had an inexplicable urge to lower herself and take it in her mouth.

  Axel might have allowed her to, if she had asked, but there was no time for that. Every sweaty beat of her heart told her exactly what hour had come: the day of the mating dance, with a tempo that crashed furiously through her veins, the same relentless drumming caressing her lover's blood.

  The big man's erection pulsed once, and he leaned back, turning his head up to the low ceiling. He seemed to be craning his head to the sky, through the wood and dirt, through the forest canopy, all the way through the gray autumn clouds overhead, until his gaze reached the heavens.

  It was his ritual. Axel imagined himself reaching for the Gods before he took a mate. They had always given him great energy before, bestowing what was needed to accomplish his glorious work. He had before him the most beautiful virgin he had ever seen, and taking her felt like the ultimate blessing.

  “I want to feel the rhyme pulsing through you, Jordan. Lay back, lay back and feel what my fiery mouth can do to you,” he whispered. His mouth sank down to her, this time bypassing her breasts and trailing down her stomach, until his sturdy face found its way between her legs.

  The air came apart with the sharp beauty of Jordan's gasp as his tongue opened her slit, beading with slick cream. He pulled her apart with his fingers and mouth, marinating her skin with hot strokes, until his tongue invaded her wetness and that softer flesh within her.

  He rose, forming a hump with his strong back, cutting circles across her. Jordan's sighs became uneven as a drunken ecstasy she had never known filled her brain.

  I didn't think it could feel this good. All those times I stroked myself with these hands – that's over now, buried forever by his indescribable tongue, his hot breaths pulling me down into that humid place...

  She couldn't think another word. Axel brought his lips down over her entire clit and sucked, a motion so sharp and pleasant that her hips automatically rose to meet his mouth. He pulled her in closer with his hands, clawing at her buttocks.

  The feel of her round ass caused his shaft to drool onto the bed. Axel knew he had to mate soon, before the impulse turned him into a rabid animal, but he smiled as he continued to work her churning sex.

  His tongue alternated between feeling like a bundle of bristles and a fitful of feathers, an illusion created by her overtaxed skin. Jordan's face wrinkled up, as though she were about to sneeze. The release that came was far from her nose, however.

  “Ohhh, Axel!” Her faint howl melted as her brain split in half, both sides launching into separate zones of barely fathomed ecstasy. She thrashed and gushed into his mouth, competing with the morning bird as sharp cries bounced back off the ceiling, down to the place where their lustful bodies were
locked together.

  The first orgasm released its vice strong grip very slowly. When she looked up again, Axel had finally removed his face, watching her buoying on the mattress from her raised hands.

  He was crouched between her legs, his dominant hand on his aching scepter. He watched her lips open slowly, shaking the entire time.

  “Go ahead, Axel. Come to me and slide it into this womb, this wetness. Use my body to make more life, just as Nature commands you to,” she tried to speak like Father Skarr, doing her best not to let fear consume her.

  To him, she was oozing innocence. For just a moment, her virgin purity was so otherworldly that part of him wanted to pack up and leave her there, frozen in time forever, untouched. Yet, the wolf inside him couldn't do that, not when it felt as if his balls would explode.

  With his lips curled back in a grimace, he crawled forward, making his arms like huge pillars on each side of her head. He hunkered down, positioning himself before her wet opening.

  They both closed their eyes as Axel started to push forward, as light as he could manage, until he sank far enough into her velvet for the feeling to become irresistible. With a single grunt, he stabbed forward, piercing and stealing her virginity forever.

  Her maidenhood stretched and broke in one sharp burst – a rigid snap of discomfort, but not like the harsher ache of the way he stretched her from within. Axel clenched his teeth, feeling lightning surging up his back, too excited not to thrust as she opened up to his girth.

  The hunter's whole body seesawed back and forth, a mountain of man crashing into. It took several jarring minutes, helplessly taking his strong thrusts, until her sex fired to life again.

  His thunder-strokes started to feel pleasurable, and the pain of her opening faded with every lash. Inch by inch, Jordan started to buck back at the potent root inside her, dragging her hips up to swallow him.

  Fire started in her belly, harsh enough to make her chirp as her clit scraped his trunk. The noises only sped along Axel's thrusts. It felt like an invisible hammer smashing down along his tailbone, driving a maddening energy into his balls, which were growing hotter by the second.

  “Little rabbit, bite down and hold me tight with your legs! I'm about to make you a mother...”

  Her body was responding exactly as he asked, even before he said the words. Her long, sleek calves hooked around the backs of his ankles, causing her entire body to rock. She tumbled from the ceiling of his sweaty muscles, down to the feathery depths, gleefully imprisoned by the pleasure he welded into her.

  A stormy growl rumbled in his throat, heralding the fiery avalanche that burst from him a moment later. Her legs felt it first, the savage convulsions of muscles, firing all across his legs. His body tightened from head to toe, like a fishing canoe plunging into the waves.

  Nothing compared to the scorching liquid coal that ran into her. Axel's grunts filled her ears, even as his seed ran deep into her body, overflowing her fertile valley with such saturation, such power, that she felt herself getting pregnant that very instant.

  Jordan wanted to scream, claw, and roll like a wildcat. There was nothing to do in her restraints but bash her hips forward, hard enough to leave a bruise, into the spewing horn providing what her body had craved for twenty one years.

  Ecstasy hit her as sudden as his seed. Golden rays shot through her head, hot enough to blind her. She felt as though her vision would never return, lost forever in the maze of pleasure, where sight had no place. Here, there was nothing but feeling, the dynamic slap of infinity through her sex, permeating every pore in her body.

  What felt like days only lasted minutes. Reluctantly, their bodies released, exhausted by their rigors.

  When Jordan regained consciousness, she stayed far in the mattress, his softening thickness still inside her. Axel smacked his lips, satisfied for the moment. He planted his hard lips on hers before drawing out, knowing that it was only nightfall.

  He caressed her with his wide hands, not uttering a word, letting the goosebumps on their bodies speak for themselves. She deserved reprieve, but only for an hour or so. The quiet forest night, as he had learned long ago, was the very best time to breed, as much as their bodies would allow.

  Guarding His Property

  Just one week in his hollow left her sore. Each time she leaned down in the little clearing, gathering roots and berries, Jordan felt the fading ache and smiled.

  The ghostly pain reminded her of how much she had changed in just seven days, all of them filled with her mating, as much as he could stand. Her appetite was rampant, but she didn't mind when Axel could only fill her three times in one night, instead of five.

  Those days were a pleasure too. Release from desires, after all, is noble satisfaction as well.

  Her mate had disappeared into the wilder parts of the trees. They were less than a mile from his hollow, and on the hunt for sweets, fat, herbs – anything that would help them last the winter.

  As she knew from growing up, snows sometimes came early in the Land of Underfalls and melted late. She suspected that several harsh winters in the village had stolen part of her beauty, leaving her a couple inches shorter than she might otherwise be.

  The chill air made her wrap the shawl tighter around her shoulders, but it wasn't just the cold that caused her to shiver. The thought of winter in nothing but the unprotected woods while she was pregnant left her fearful.

  It's natural to worry, but many other women have survived this, she thought, trying to reassure herself. But what about the ones who never return?

  That unwelcome question shadowed her like a pine vulture, a wretched misshapen idea that could do nothing but needlessly scare her, without posing real harm. A million explanations were offered over the years for the disappearance of certain daughters.

  The naysayers claimed they died, unable to survive the cold. The Council sometimes sent men on horseback to search for their bones in the forest and along its edges. They never found any.

  Jordan smiled at the other rumors, barely whispered ones in nasty breaths so inappropriate that Father Skarr would have slapped her for showing amusement. Some said the disappearing women fell in love with their men, like mothers love their daughters, running off with them into unknown lands.

  In one unforgettable sermon, the Father stood close to the flames, until Jordan thought he would set his vestments ablaze. He looked into her eyes and the eyes of every other girl. She was nearly fifteen, and cowered with her peers as he condemned the Sin of Care – a subversive crime that he said would undo the very fabric of future generations.

  “Know this, my daughters...sin comes when you least expect it. Men and women are made to mate, but they should never know one another for more than four seasons. An unclean relationship between the genders will have monstrous consequences, sending women into the arms of males who are not fit to breed, and vice-versa...”

  He shook his head with sadness when he spoke the words. It seemed so personal, a bitter reminder of his own strange position in the community.

  Why is it okay for men to live among us when they grow old or infirm, but not any sooner?

  She heard the question again as she rounded the clearing, approaching a small thicket where bright purple sweetberries grew. Jordan shook her head, disappointed with her inability to find an easy answer.

  Hasn't the last week shown you why? Men are different – very different – so different that they would upset the entire balance of our little community if they lived with us in their prime.

  The handwoven basket she carried at her side swung to and fro as she filled it with berries. It was surprisingly sturdy, not unlike the ones craftswomen created in the village. Perhaps the men had an anonymous trade line to womankind after all.