He rolled his hips, knowing that if he adjusted his hips and thrust right… there…
“God, Manx, fuck me,” May shrieked as Manx’s cock touched a place inside her that set off an explosion in the back of her head. She could feel her orgasm rising again, felt her body struggle to a release that only Manx could grant. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuckmefuckmefuckmefuckme… Oh, shit -- Manx!”
Shaking his head to clear his mind of strange thoughts, Manx swiped the sweat from his forehead and leaned further over May, until his chest abraded the hardened peaks of her nipples. This set him deeper inside her and added extra stimulation to her quivering body.
Manx could feel his own climax approaching as he arched his hips and fucked her harder, striving to do as he promised and screw her through the mattress.
But the closer he came to his release, the more familiar this seemed.
“Don’t torment me with memories,” he breathed to himself as he began to realize just who this little girl reminded him of.
He closed his eyes and he was transported back to another time and place, back to her. He forced his eyes open, trying to stave off the memory, but when he focused on May’s flushed face, all he could see was long black hair and eyes as red as his own. “Bertha,” he breathed, and he swore he saw his True One smile at him. “Neitun. No!”
Then his mind was exploding, bright colors and memories filling his head. Their first touch, the first kiss, the first time he placed his collar, his mark, around her neck. Manx’s eyes began to flutter as his hips worked instinctively, driving deeper into her screaming body, ignoring the nails that tore into his back and the teeth that chewed at his neck.
His soul, that part of him he’d thought closed off and dead, exploded into life, sending excruciating ecstasy through his body as his cock swelled even larger in the wet clasp of her pussy. “Bertha,” he breathed, “Eg ást pu.” I love you.
May gasped as she heard those words, her eyes going wide as something inside her exploded. She could feel her mouth moving, but didn’t understand the words that came out. “Eg er her, minn ást.” I am here, my love.
Then orgasm tore through them both.
Grunts and growls exploded from Manx’s mouth, and he felt his balls tingle as he slammed in to the base of his cock. He felt the blood race to his dick, swelling it further as the head began to vibrate. “A sidastur!” he bellowed. His eyes rolled in his head and his whole body shuddered in release. “At last, my love. Minn Frau. My life!”
“Manx,” May wailed as his hips slammed into hers, touching that special place, making her soul soar as her body came apart with the force of her third orgasm. “Minn ást!” Her hips arched up, meeting him thrust for thrust as her fingers tore at the skin of his back. Her pussy clenched around his thick shaft, and incoherent sounds screamed from her throat. As her body settled and his form collapsed on top of her, a small voice in the back of her head cried out in joy. “Ad Lokum! Finally!”
And Manx -- Manx rolled to the side, his eyes wide, staring in disbelief at this tiny fluff of a woman who had become so much more to him than a casual fling. “Damn it, you are the one I’ve been searching for.”
“And I’ve been searching for you too, big daddy.” May chuckled breathlessly, her eyes still glazed, her mind caught up in the afterglow.
“No, little girl,” he tried to explain as he swept his hair off of his face, his eyes filled with awe. “I have been searching for centuries for you.”
“Yeah, it was good for me too,” May sighed, then perked up a bit. “Are you in the market for a permanent submissive? I mean, I give really good head, and I can be obedient, if I so choose to be…”
Manx’s response was cut off as his eyes seemed to flash and his gaze grew distant.
“Manx?”
But there was no answer. Manx had withdrawn to a place within himself.
* * *
This had better be important, Manx thought as he opened up the neuro pathway he used for speaking to only his most trusted. Almost instantly, he recognized the flavor of the person trying to contact him. It was spicy and a bit sweet… Okibi.
Manx, Branimir’s second in command is on the island.
I know, he responded. He had felt the climate on the island shift just a little when the man made his appearance. It was no real threat to the island or its operations, but it might prove to be a bit difficult for Okibi. If I weren’t so busy with my Frau, I’d have already been there. Do you need me?
Manx knew Okibi could handle herself, but if his comrade needed him, he would drop all to be at her side. Loyalty was a hallmark of his breed, and as an alpha himself, he was extremely protective to those he deemed worthy.
No. I’m good. Manx could taste the -- fear…? No, fear was too strong a word -- apprehension in her voice. Fuck it. His Okibi needed him as much as he needed to remind his Frau who she belonged to. Maybe he could take her with him, then Okibi could meet Mayleen and he could stomp on the assholes causing her grief. Manx knew what having a second in command showing up on the island could mean for Okibi, and he was going to make damn sure she was mentally able to cope before the fighting began. But then she continued. Congrats on finding the Frau. I can handle them.
I’m sure you can. If you need me, just call.
He tasted warmth and affection in her link now and it caused his protective instincts to calm down a bit. If she were stepping up to deal with this issue, he would stand down. But he would keep the mental link with her at a low hum, active in the back of his mind, but muted. He would react if she were in any serious danger or if he felt her flagging.
He grunted in acknowledgment, then turned his attention back to his Frau, who was beginning to sound upset at his continued silence.
Well, their souls had touched during the sex act, and he knew exactly who was leaning against him. Now it was time to make her remember.
Chapter Seven
Mayleen stared at that blank face, the face that belonged to the man who had given her so much pleasure, and fought the urge to panic.
There had to be something wrong with him. He was so stiff, so still. It couldn’t be natural.
“Manx? This isn’t funny. Manx!” She reached out and shook his shoulder, then drew back. He was so stiff and cold…
Maybe he was having a seizure. The only people she knew who froze up like that had seizures or fits of some sort… but he wasn’t human.
Did his kind have seizures?
Mayleen began to panic and shook Manx, her hands gripping his shoulders. He was so cold, his red eyes had yet to open, and he wasn’t moving at all. She laid her head against his chest, but there was no heartbeat, barely any movement to the massive chest to show that he was even alive.
“Manx, don’t do this to me.” Her heart began to slam in her chest, and the cold metallic taste of fear filled her mouth. “You can’t do this to me, Manx. Wake up! Tell me how to make this better.”
Tears began to fill her eyes. Never had she been so concerned -- so worried -- about anyone.
But Manx was different -- from the first she’d known he was different. He cared for her, he took his time with her, he had given her more in the short time she had been with him than the sternest master she’d served ever had.
She couldn’t lose that now. It felt as if the other half of her being was crumbling.
“Minn ást,” she breathed, not even realizing she had slipped into another language. “My love, come back to me.”
In an effort to warm him, she pulled back the sheet that covered them both and pushed herself as close to him as she could get, willing her body heat to warm his cold, pale flesh.
“Manx, please!”
Finally, Manx took a deep breath and his eyes popped open.
“Manx,” she cried, her eyes filling with tears of relief. “You’re okay.”
“Were you worried, little one?” he asked, his voice a bit husky as if from a long period of disuse.
“Yeah… No. I wasn’t really wo
rried,” she muttered, blushing and pulling back.
“Liar,” he whispered, before reaching out and running a fingertip down her face.
“Well… I kind of didn’t know if you were having a seizure or something,” she muttered, praying the heat would leave her face.
“Really?”
“I thought maybe the dogs were eating,” she growled, rolling her eyes.
“So you thought you were going to be dog food?”
“Well…” She tried to roll away, but his arms stopped her.
“Nothing is going to eat you, little one,” he purred, “except me.”
Mayleen felt a blush burn bright again. Manx’s arms bulged as he pulled her on top of the wall of muscle he called a chest. Before she could protest, his head raised and his lips brushed softly against hers.
May’s eyes dropped to half-mast, but she still looked up into scarlet colored eyes, unable to turn away as again he raised his head and his tongue gently teased the crease between her lips.
“Mmm,” he murmured, “fresh submissive,” causing May to break out in giggles.
Taking advantage of her open mouth, Manx allowed his tongue to invade it, flicking at her tongue before he began to explore that cavern carefully, cataloging her flavor as well as her reaction. May opened her mouth and allowed the invasion, closing her eyes fully as her hands tangled in his hair, holding him close to her.
Manx pulled back a little, gasping for breath, before he again took her mouth, this time roughly, savagely. One hand tangled in her hair while the other ran down her back to cup and knead her ass.
But before Manx had done anything more than pull an eager Mayleen tighter into his arms, there came a hue and cry from the outer rooms. Groaning, he broke off the tonsil tingling kiss he’d instigated and rested his forehead against hers, breathing in the air she exhaled. He closed his eyes in defeat.
“I have to go,” he breathed, opening up one eye before he ran his tongue along her cheek, tasting the sweat and desire of her.
“But… but we were just getting started again.”
Ignoring her for the moment, Manx pulled away and rolled to his feet, naked and unabashed. He stretched his arms overhead, making the large muscles in his arms and chest pop before he ran a hand over his cobblestoned stomach, very much aware of his Frau’s eyes on his body but paying her no attention.
He strode across the room and growled out something. Instantly his hounds appeared. “Watch my SAM, if you will. I have to deal with this.”
“Sam?” Mayleen called out. “In case you missed it, I am missing a few boy parts… unless Sam is short for Samantha. In which case I’ll get pissed because you forgot my name already.”
Manx turned his head enough to smirk at her over his shoulder. “S-A-M, little Frau. It stands for Smart-Assed Masochist, which you definitely are.”
Then he strode from the room, not giving her a chance to respond.
“Frau?” she asked, speaking to herself and the two huge-assed dogs that appeared and guarded both sides of what she assumed was the exit to the room. “Where would he get a name like that?”
* * *
A disgusted and angry Manx reclined tiredly in his huge leather chair, his red eyes glaring at the screen.
“This is ridiculous,” he growled softly to himself as his eyes rapidly scanned the code that seemed to fly across the screen in a series of zeros and ones. “They are trying to hack in again. Maybe I should have left an arm or a hand as a warning.”
Wrinkling his nose in disgust, he sat forward and let his fingers fly rapidly over the keyboards, inputting his own special codes into the system matrix. Snarling, he pinpointed a likely area before the system broke down. All transmissions had ceased, as if the culprit had been interrupted. “The caverns.”
Manx knew of several caverns on the island. Most were used for mining or for shelter, or growing costly herbs that needed a rougher climate to flourish. While he knew of several different personages who used the caverns for more intimate purposes, never had there been a real problem with people there. And there were only the mining computers in several locations, used for inputting invoice numbers and inventory amounts.
“This makes it a bit easier to decide who is playing games,” Manx muttered. He began to encrypt a number of codes specifically set to warn him if another attempt was made at any of the caverns.
“This will lead me right back to the ass trying to break my security. Damn the powers that be and their stupid computer equipment.”
Sighing in frustration, he ran his hands through his hair and glared at the machine.
“And she doesn’t remember.”
His Frau was there in his bedchamber, and she didn’t know what the hell was going on.
There had to be some way to help her reconnect to the missing parts of her soul.
While they were joined, and he was as deep into her body as he could possibly go, he’d felt something inside him shift, felt a familiar presence that he had never forgotten… even after all these years.
“Bertha,” he breathed. “You have come back to me.”
Then he was filled with a new sense of being, with a new purpose. His Frau was there and he was going to do everything in his power to bring her back to him. And the way he had won his Frau and shown her her proper place was with heart, and strength, and love… and no small bit of leather.
His eyes crinkled maliciously as he rose to his feet and walked over to a high chest in the corner. Sliding the top drawer open, he grinned as he gently caressed the well worn and oiled strips of leather. “First, I make sure she will never forget that she is mine, and that the marks she will wear from my hand are our personal badges of honor.”
* * *
When Manx entered the room, he discovered his Frau standing by his bed, looking lost and confused. His hound whimpered once before it disappeared, telling him that all was not quite right with his woman.
“Is there a problem?” He stepped close to her, letting her feel his heat. He inhaled deeply, shuddering as he recognized the scent she was giving off -- ripe, ready, hungry woman.
“I… I am confused.”
Ever since Manx had left, there had been a voice screaming in the back of her mind. Half the time she couldn’t make out what it was saying -- it spoke in some strange language -- but the other half left her feeling confused and a little bit frightened.
Was she finally going crazy?
“About what?” he breathed, bending low to kiss at her neck, her delicate bare neck.
“About you, me, and this whole situation. Any normal woman would be screaming her head off, but I am here, in a dungeon, with a man who eats people.”
“Bad people,” he interrupted. “The innocent have no real flavor.”
Mayleen blinked up at him. “You see, that’s what I mean.” She shook her head at her own foolish notions. “If you said that to any normal woman, they’d be screaming their heads off by now.”
“Who said that you were normal?”
“I am as normal as they come. I am a career woman…”
“Who wears forms of Japanese rope bondage around her office, who goes through masters like most people go through underwear…”
“I don’t wear underwear,” May felt compelled to point out.
“I rest my case.” Manx rolled his eyes, though the red orbs gleamed in delight at the gentle sparring. “You weren’t, nor will you ever be considered normal, Mayleen. So that is something you need not worry about.”
“And what should I worry about?” She pouted, his presence heightening her senses. How odd was it to want a man just because he was near? Was this what having a real master was all about?
“You just worry about being mine,” he answered. He gripped her arms and pushed her far enough away that he could stare directly into her eyes. “Mine to please, mine to torment, mine to punish, mine to fuck, mine to love.”
With that, he released her arms and gripped her right wrist.
A
s if out of thin air, the shadows appeared and wrapped neatly around her arm. When they disappeared, a small leather band was tightened around her, marking her, telling all of her slave status.
“This band is for others to see… and envy me for my excellent taste in women.”
He raised her left wrist and the same shadows appeared, surrounding her arm, tingling her skin as they dissipated, leaving behind a second band.
“This one is for you to look at, to contemplate your slavery. It is closest to your heart, where I should be… eventually.”
May stared up at Manx, speechless, before her eyes dropped to the brown strips of leather that bound her.
They felt so familiar, like a piece of long-lost jewelry being returned to her.
Tears of happiness filled her eyes as she inhaled sharply, her soul relaxing as if it had received its most heartfelt wish.
“From now on, just you and me, sweetheart.” Manx bent low to take her lips in a gentle kiss. “From now on, it is just you for me and me for you. Nothing will ever again come between us.”
May puzzled over his words, but then all thought went right out of her head as Manx began to divest her of her wrapped sheet. The shadows surrounded them both and May felt the tingle as his clothing dissolved into air. There was nothing between the two of them, and their bare flesh seemed to hunger for each other.
“Have you ever had a lover?” Manx asked, running his hands over the soft skin of her back and sides. She felt as soft as flower petals and more real than any of his imaginings.
“I -- I am no virgin,” she answered, feeling his cock began to rise up against her lower stomach. She had to touch him. Her hands went around his back to tangle in his long fall of hair before turning to touch the muscles of his back. He was hot to the touch.
“I didn’t ask about masters, as they no longer exist for you. I am the only master you will ever need to remember. But what I asked is if you have had a lover? No domination, just someone to love?”
“I… I… no.”
May looked down, her hand leaving off massaging his back to stroke and caress the thick shaft of his cock. Was there shame in never having someone just to love her? Was she so unlovable?
Rookery Cove: The Darkness Page 5