by Lacy Danes
He stared at her with such intensity. Jessica’s heart sped. He wanted her. The woman licked her lips and his hand released. His touch trailed her shoulder blades to her side; then he moved to the next in the line.
It became apparent after the second woman he touched that this man loved women and they fancied him. Each woman in the line before her would have gladly given her innocence to him if he had only trailed his fingers to the hair above her thighs instead of the locks on her head. Jessica gasped. What a forward thought.
Never in her life would she have had a thought like that before this night. Maybe viewing such an event was bad for her. Well, maybe not physically harmful but watching this had shifted her view on propriety.
She glanced at her captor standing at the side of the circle, his eyes on this man, a deep scowl on his face. Why did this man bother him so?
“Haven knows you are mine. Yet he will in all probability choose you from the line to provoke me.”
Her hand rose and she stuck her finger in her ear wiggling it. Was he really speaking to her?
“Yes. I cannot speak to you with my mouth. I don’t have that capacity. My mark on your neck connected us, and I now speak to you with my mind.”
Haven stepped next to her, and her captor’s eyes darkened as he stared at her from across the room. His expression was one of fear and desire. Her captor truly wanted her, and she wanted him, wanted his touch on her body, easing the ache that was building again between her thighs. She would allow him to take her innocence. If only it was he who stood before her now.
Jessica tore her gaze to the striking man before her. Haven’s smile widened. He leaned in, his head just above the lobe of her ear, and inhaled. The breath puffed in a steady stream that lowered in a trail down her neck. He stopped and the humid air caressed the mark her captor made. Chills raced her skin and her body trembled. The sensation was exquisite.
He raised his hand, and she prepared herself to be touched, but instead of running his fingers through her hair, the tip of his finger landed on the mark. She flinched as pain prickled up her neck. With a light touch, he stroked the tender skin and wetness dripped from her sex. Wanting her captor to be the one touching her, she squirmed, pulling her neck away from the touch.
He inhaled again, and his black tongue slid out, the prominent tip tracing his lips. Jessica’s eyes widened. A black tongue?
Haven’s eyes sparkled and he leaned in again, tracing the puncture with that black tongue. The persistent flick against her neck weakened her knees, and she swayed into him, arms coming up to his as he continued to lick her. The skin of his arms blazed beneath her touch, and she almost released her hands at the intensity.
A growl came from behind him followed by a deep throaty hiss.
Jessica tensed. Haven did not move. Instead his hand reached up and grasped a fistful of her hair. He tugged on the strands, arching her head away from his. His tongue continued to flick the red mark, swirling and tapping to the beat of her heart. Her sex contracted, the ache in her womb almost unbearable. Her arms and legs trembled, thighs opening against his legs, searching for release. Good gracious. What was he doing to her?
A series of curses rang through her head from her captor. The air swirled behind her, and Haven pushed his penis into her stomach. He was long and thick, thicker than any of the men she had seen thus far. The skin of her abdomen tickled at the contact, and she pulled backward only to push up against more hot skin. She jumped. The smell of sandalwood and spice enveloped her, and she trembled all the more. Her captor.
Haven continued as if nothing was amiss. Her body pulsed to the rhythm he created, and she relaxed in the presence of her captor. Her captor would watch out for her.
His warm fingers wrapped about her arms and pulled her clutch from Haven’s body. Haven pulled his head from her neck but did not back away from her. His hand remained in her hair. She panted, looking up at him from beneath her lashes.
“Don’t be frightened. I cannot allow him to touch you more. I will go mad if he chooses you.”
Her captor grunted, then growled. Haven stood unmoving with a smile on his face. He rocked his hips, rubbing his penis against her abdomen. She trembled. Her captor placed his hands on her hips and pulled her back, holding her against him, his sex pushing against her bum.
They both growled and her body ignited in heat, melting her joints and creating an intense need between her legs. If both of them had not been holding her, she would have toppled to the floor. She wanted her captor to take her innocence now, pushing his sex between her legs instead of against her bum. She shifted, pushing her body back against him.
Haven opened his mouth and hissed. The hand in her hair jerked and pulled her to the side, out of the sandwich between them. Her captor’s hands fell from her hips and she stumbled, her scalp pricking in pain. Haven released her hair and grasped her hand, twirling her into the center of the circle.
He had chosen her from the line.
“Damn him!” Her captor stepped forward into the circle, and a loud bang came from above.
Everyone in the room started and looked up at the balcony. The red-haired elder stood, a cane in his hand. He had used the cane to get everyone’s attention. He grunted and his head shook toward her captor.
“Yes, sir. I know the rules of the ritual.”
The man up in the balcony growled, and his gaze slid down her body.
“I cannot let Haven take her. My will won’t allow it.”
The elder’s gaze then slid to Haven, who stood by the line of women, a wicked smile on his face.
Oh he was devious, just like her younger cousin. In her experience the only way to get around this was to play along to a point, then flip the game back on him.
What could she do?
Would he choose another woman from the line when he continued the rites? If he did, she could surely devise something. But if he didn’t…No, she wouldn’t think about that. She should easily be able to transfer his affections to the other woman he chose.
If she could be bold enough.
Her cheeks grew warm. It would require touching him and the other woman boldly. What was she considering?
Her gaze fixed on her green-eyed one, and her body trembled in desire. She just couldn’t bear the need for him to touch her, possess her, ease her ache deep within. Indeed, she could do this. She would be bold and try to trick this man into choosing another.
6
Abysis stood at the side of the circle and watched Haven carefully. What woman did Haven truly want from the line?
Haven circled his queen, his gaze traveling to the elders, then to the line of women. He assessed each woman, and as his gaze settled on the woman at the front of the line, his eyes flashed with arousal.
The first woman he’d touched. Of course, the woman with black hair. Haven always had a weakness for women with her coloring.
Abysis skirted the circle’s edge and came up behind the dark-haired woman. He glanced at his fair-haired queen. She studied Haven. Touching this woman was not forbidden in the traditions because he was king. However, it did push at some of the rituals. He didn’t care; as long as it was not forbidden, he would do what he needed to in order to take her. Her eyes locked onto him.
“I will not let him touch you. I will provoke him the same way he has me. I will be the one to claim you.”
She smiled tentatively. His body warmed and his cock jumped, bursting to sink into her.
Haven walked back to the line. There were three more women for him to appraise before Haven’s rites would begin. Abysis reached out his hand and lightly dragged the woman’s black hair over her ear.
She was pretty. However, in a way, he felt sorry for her. Haven would use her as he had all his previous rite mates. She would bear his child, and he would send her back to the human world never to see that babe again. Why he did such, Abysis didn’t know. She had every right to stay, and most of the human women did. The males, however, usually returned to the vi
llage.
Haven had yet to find his true mate, yet he had three whelp all from black-haired women. Could this woman be his true mate? It was possible, but somehow he didn’t think so.
She trembled as his finger trailed the edge of her hair and down her dew-aroused back. He glanced down at his cock. His phallus still stood stiff. In past experience, touching a woman never achieved this state. He knew his prick stiffened because his queen stood in the center, that he was primed and waiting for her. He wished he could have her now, but he would use his condition to get Haven’s attention.
He glanced down the line at Haven, whose eyes kept glancing back to him. It was now or never. His finger traced the swell of her bottom and delved into the humid flesh of her sex. Haven’s eyes widened. That’s right, Haven, I have an erection this time. You can’t assume I won’t use it.
Jessica watched as her captor caressed the black-haired woman at the front of the line. His hands traced her spine, the swell of her bottom, then the line at the top of her legs, only to backtrack the caress and start over again. The dark-haired woman’s head tilted back and she groaned, her body shaking.
She glanced at Haven, who now stood staring at her green-eyed one.
He strode down the line and stopped directly next to the black-haired woman. His eyes traveled down her captor’s body and focused on his sex. How strange. Her captor, seeing Haven’s gaze, stepped closer to the black-haired woman and pulled her back against him. He bent his knees and pushed his hips forward. The woman groaned and widened her stance.
Jessica gaped as his penis pushed through the woman’s legs and the head emerged by her front curls.
“I am not doing this out of pleasure. I am doing this to get you. To force Haven to pick the woman he truly wants.”
She understood that. However, her heart sped and the flesh between her legs tingled. Watching him arouse and touch this other woman for her had a tremendous effect on her. How could she enjoy watching a man she wanted pleasure another woman? Wasn’t that wrong? Scandalous? She didn’t know. All she knew was that he was doing this act so he could claim her as his. Her heart swelled.
She began to think that none of what she believed held true in this place. Here she didn’t seem to be the plain spinster the outside world saw. Why was that?
Haven grasped the woman’s hands and jerked her away from her captor. Her captor’s lips turned up into a smile. Haven pulled his fingers in close to his palm and boxed her captor in the ear with his hand. Her captor hissed.
“How dare you.” He lunged at Haven, toppling him to the ground. Pinning Haven beneath his weight, he leaned back and hissed. Haven turned his head to the side and pushed away from him. He stood, as did her captor. Their green eyes flashed in defiance at each other, and slowly Haven lowered his eyes.
His head bowed, he grunted. Her captor strode forward and wrapped his arms about Haven, giving him a squeeze.
He cared for this man. She shook her head. Boys.
Haven turned and stared at the black-haired woman. She smiled coyly at him. He strode to her and pulled her to the chair in the middle of the room.
The elder from above slammed his cane on the rail and pointed to her green-eyed one, then to the edge of the circle. Her captor nodded and strode to the edge. Jessica stumbled back to the side of the ring and turned to watch Haven.
Haven’s hands caressed the swell of the black-haired woman’s breasts. His fingers cupped the underside while his thumbs flicked her nipples. The woman tossed her head back, and Haven pushed her to sit. He knelt before her, worshipping her body; never once did his hands leave her skin.
Closing his eyes, he sighed as his hands pushed back her robe and traveled the sides of her waist to her hips, then back up again. He leaned in and suckled a nipple into his mouth. The woman arched into him. His hands slid around to her back and anchored her as he continued to play with her nipples.
Jessica wished she could see the expression on Haven’s face. The woman seemed to be enjoying his touch. Her eyes were closed and her lips slightly parted as if with a sigh. His actions from behind seemed slow as if he relished the feel of her skin beneath his fingers.
The black-haired woman’s hands slid over his shoulders and down his back, her fingers entwining with his gleaming mahogany hair. That hair looked so soft and silky. Jessica wondered what the fine strands felt like. Were they softer than the finest silk or coarse to the touch?
Haven’s fingers rubbed down her arms and pulled her touch from his body. Grasping her wrists, he pushed them behind her back.
The black-haired woman’s head tilted, exposing the underside of her neck as his black tongue slid out, circling one of her erect nipples; then his mouth closed over the peaked bud. The woman groaned in pleasure.
Jessica had yet to experience the pleasure of having her nipples caressed. Did having a man suckle your breast feel the same or different from a child? Not that she knew what a child felt like either. Goodness, the thoughts she had this night would put any respectable woman into a fit of vapors or titters.
The black-haired woman’s head jerked backward as if Haven tugged on her hair. The muscles of her neck strained, but her head appeared unable to move. His hands reappeared at her hips.
Had he secured her hair somehow? And her arms, too, did not move from behind her. Had he tied her hands with her hair? No, that wouldn’t work. He must have used something else…the belt from the robe maybe.
Why would he bind her hands and not experience the touch of the woman he chose? The human touch evoked the most powerful emotions. She had lived without it for too long, and she would not do so again. She glanced at her captor. She needed his touch. The mark on her neck began to throb anew.
“Indeed…My rites are next. You will be mine.”
She would be his. Her skin tingled with the thought of his caress. Of his lips traveling her body as Haven’s lips did the woman he chose. The strength of his conviction made her mind spin.
Haven parted the woman’s thighs and sniffed the air. He purred, then thrust his finger into her shimmering cunny. The woman tensed as he withdrew his finger. A gush of cream-colored fluid slid from her sex and clung to him. Jessica felt that same gush sliding down her leg.
His eyelids hung heavy as he rubbed the fluid between his thumb and fingers. He grasped her hips and pulled her to the edge of the chair. Unable to move her hands or neck, she rested her head on the curve of the chair as if sleeping. Her eye fixed on the man who caressed her, she moaned. She truly wanted Haven’s touch.
Haven’s sex stood at the entrance to the woman’s womb. His hands massaged her stomach, fanning out in a starlike pattern from her button to her hips. The woman arched into his caress.
Jessica’s hips pressed forward in unison, and she felt to her bones that she would do the same. To feel that intimate caress on her bare skin, possessing the core of her. She trembled. There would be nothing like it in the world.
Haven stared at the arch of the woman’s neck. He flexed his hips, and the tip of his phallus disappeared into her hollow. The woman cried out. His hands shifted to her thighs; wrapping his fingers about her fleshy legs, he lifted them and placed her feet on his shoulders.
One of his hands settled between her legs while the other rubbed up the arch of her neck. He slowly pushed his penis into her. She whimpered and he pulled his prick back out. Jessica saw the blood from the woman’s innocence drip to the floor. The members of the audience meowed deep and low in their throats.
Haven continued to rock his hips in a steady and harsh rhythm, pushing his stiffened flesh into the woman. His neversettling hands rubbed every inch of her skin. His head tilted back, and with a groan he shuddered, sinking his phallus into the woman fully and holding himself there.
Murmurs and grunts resounded in the room. Haven slipped his sex from the woman and stood. He wrapped his arm around the woman’s waist and hefted her up and over his shoulder, her head falling down his back. Strands of black hair trailed to his knee
s, but the majority of it remained tied with her hands in the belt of her robe.
“Now, you will be mine.”
Jessica’s eyes snapped to her captor as he strode into the circle. His green eyes alive with passion, with possession. Her body trembled. They would now do the act in the circle, in front of all these people. Her heart sped. She would experience the touch of another…Her chest tightened. No, she would experience his touch.
7
Damn the formality of the rites. He would not smell every woman and feel their hair. He knew who he wanted and he was through waiting. He strode to his queen, and the Catus grunted and howled.
She tilted her face up to his, and he captured her lips in a singeing kiss. He tasted her essence, and she flooded his senses with each movement of his mouth over hers. Her body pressed against his, hands clinging to his shoulders. Her touch fluttered over his skin, pushing his heartbeat through every muscle, driving the rhythm of his tongue, of his fingers, of his hips against her stomach. He had waited too long for this.
He tasted the warmth of her lips, the soft pliant plumpness, and knew without a doubt this was what he was made for. Pulling on her belt, he propelled her to the center of the circle.
One quick display of the loss of her innocence and she was his to do with as he wished for the rest of his life. His throat tightened on tangled emotions of need and relief that he had finally found her.
He pulled her to the table and wrapped his arms about her slender waist. Her skin blazed with the call of her need. A need that echoed his. It seeped through his hands, rousing the animal in him.
Without losing touch of her lips, he lifted her until she sat on the table ledge. Pressing his body between her thighs, she spread herself wide. Her tart scent filtered up to him, and he roared into their kiss. He needed to be inside her, to feel her clasp hot and tight around his cock. To feel the delicious sensation of spending in a warm body for the first time. His muscles shook with an overload of impending pleasure.