The Klawinken
Octavia’s Time
Octavia‘s body is on fire from the vivid dreams of erotic lovemaking that come to her night after night. Lustful thoughts are driving her crazy, making her do things that she would have never done before. She has been warned that when she turned twenty-one her desires would increase until she had no choice but to follow her body’s call to couple with her one true mate. A warning she had been told to ignore as the psychotic ramblings of a grandmother suffering from dementia.
However, now she has been confronted by a man who not only says he is her one true mate, but that she is not entirely human. He calls her Klawinken. Everything she has ever known rebels against what he says is her destiny. Can she find the strength to deny her dreams and the man that makes her crave his touch like no other?
Genre: Contemporary, Paranormal
Length: 22,787 words
OCTAVIA’S TIME
The Klawinken
Natalie Rosewood
EROTIC ROMANCE
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Erotic Romance
OCTAVIA’S TIME
Copyright © 2011 by Natalie Rosewood
E-book ISBN: 1-61034-867-2
First E-book Publication: October 2011
Cover design by Jinger Heaston
All cover art and logo copyright © 2011 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
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All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
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www.SirenPublishing.com
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OCTAVIA’S TIME
The Klawinken 1
NATALIE ROSEWOOD
Copyright © 2011
Prologue
Octavia lay blindfolded and naked against a cold, hard floor. Her arms had been pulled above her head and her legs spread wide apart by leather straps that held her wrists and ankles in place. She was completely exposed and vulnerable to the man she knew was watching her. Even without being able to see him, she sensed his presence and wished for him to use her in the most obscene ways. As if reading her mind, she heard his laugh close the distance between them, mocking her before his breath covered her lips, opening them with his tongue. He lowered his muscled body on top of hers to rub his long, hard cock against her stomach as his kiss deepened to suck out what little breath she had left. She ached to have him inside her but knew he was not ready to satisfy her yet. He moved away from her. She whimpered, not wanting his body or lips to leave her own. If she wasn’t bound, she would have followed him, but her body was not hers to control.
From behind her, a woman’s voice whispered, “Listen, and know that I am the one that gives him pleasure, not you.”
Soft moans and suckling noises confirmed the man she desired was being taken into the mouth of another. She cried out in anguish. Why was he not allowing her to pleasure him? It was agony, lying there helpless to do anything but listen to the woman’s sensual moan of gratification as she pleasured the man that filled Octavia’s dreams. She heard his groan of release, followed by the warm splash of his seed that covered her pussy, her breasts, and her stomach. Too quickly, a small warm tongue licked all traces of him from her body. She arched her back in defiance, hating this woman. Small teeth latched onto one of her nubs painfully, pulling it hard. She whimpered.
“Bitch,” the woman whispered into her ear before Octavia heard the sharp sound of a slap, followed by a feminine yelp. She hoped her tormentor’s retreating ass had felt the sting of the man’s displeasure. More than likely, her heart dropped, it was a reward for licking his cum from her body with such thoroughness.
Finally, she felt him kneel between her legs. She tugged at the restraints for release, arching her body, forcing her breasts outward. She felt her pussy gush when he reached down to stroke her inner thighs that were already wet with her juices. She moaned, biting her lip, practically drawing blood when his fingers worked their own kind of exquisite torture by parting her outer and then inner labia. He twisted her puffy little clit gently between his thumb and index finger. She responded with a groan. “Please make me come for you,” she begged. This form of lovemaking tantalized her every sense. The unknown stranger who came to her when she slept knew her body’s needs better than she did herself.
She strained against her bonds as he began to fuck her with first one and then two fingers. Her pussy welcomed what he offered. When he replaced his fingers with his tongue, she cried out, unable to stop the sensations of pure ecstasy that coursed through her center, causing her orgasm to spill outward from her warmth onto his tongue. Shivers of pure bliss shook her from the inside out. She heard him moan as he lifted his body to cover hers. He cupped her face, kissing her deeply, the musky taste of her pleasure on his lips. His tongue slowly caressed the inside of her mouth as he had her pussy, prolonging her orgasm until she drifted into the darkness.
Octavia woke with a start and rolled over onto her side and stared at the digital alarm clock on her bedside table. It was three o’clock in the morning. If only she could just close her eyes and go to sleep, but she knew from experience that wasn’t likely to happen. Instead, she drew her naked body upward to sit on t
he edge of the bed and leaned over to turn on the lamp next to the clock. Her gaze was immediately drawn to the full-length mirror against the opposite wall. She watched as she parted her legs to reveal her inner thighs that glistened with the wetness of a woman who was in need of a man. She lifted her eyes to view the reflection of her pink puffy nipples that tipped her full breasts. They were hard and so very sensitive. She lifted one and then the other to her lips where she suckled the nub, drawing her teeth across it. She moaned softly, feeling the wetness seep from the lips of her pussy that throbbed with her need.
She had just celebrated her twenty-first birthday a few weeks ago, and ever since then, her body had been on fire with lustful thoughts that came to her out of nowhere. The vivid pictures of erotic lovemaking that flashed in her mind were not only embarrassing but unnatural. The wanton feelings of need they created were driving her crazy. She was totally at the mercy of the woman in the mirror whose lust-filled eyes beckoned her to continue pleasuring herself.
Her sister, Evenela, had warned her that when she turned twenty-one, her body would no longer belong to her but would fall under the power of the Klawinken. Her desire to be taken by a man would increase until she had no choice but to follow her body’s call to couple with her one true mate. “This,” her sister had said with the upmost seriousness, “is the way of the Klawinken.”
When Octavia told their mother about their grandmother’s stories, she was adamant that they were nothing more than fantasies made up by an old woman who suffered from dementia. Evenela became enraged. Octavia hated it when her sister and mother fought, but she knew her mother wouldn’t lie to them. Her sister was unconvinced.
“Grammy knows what she’s talking about. She said that we were sensual women and that we should not be afraid of it but that we should embrace it. She said you and I both are of the Klawinken because of the half-moon birthmarks on the back of our necks. Grammy has one, too, but Mother and Father don’t have one. I’m not sure why, but Grammy said not to worry, that in time we would be given all the answers. You’ll wish you believed Grammy. You wait and see.”
Her sister’s words had now come back to haunt her. She still didn’t believe them, but there was something going on inside of her that she couldn’t explain. She closed her eyes and pictured the face of a professor from college. His eyes had locked with hers when he handed her back her last homework assignment. She caught his eyes returning to hers several times during his lecture. She would have rather pictured the man from her dreams, but he only allowed her the pleasure of his touch. He had never permitted her to see his face.
Moaning softly, she imagined those hands from her dreams touching her body, manipulating her breasts and caressing her intimately. Lying back on the bed, she lifted her hips as she fingered herself, pushing one and then two fingers into her tight little pussy, trying to mimic the way he had touched her in her dream. She felt the orgasm build until the release she craved left her damp and limp. This was insanity, and she knew it. Where had the calmness of purpose she had once taken for granted gone?
She turned her head to look at herself in the mirror as if she were observing a stranger. She lay sprawled across the bed, her body covered in perspiration. Dark auburn hair hung in thick waves down her back and clung to her skin. Light-blue eyes framed with long, dark lashes stared back at her. The skin beneath them was smooth and creamy white with a smattering of freckles that fell across her small, pert nose. She knew she wasn’t bad to look at from the way men’s eyes locked onto her face and full lips, but she knew it was her body that kept them looking, from her firm but full breasts and long legs, to the roundness of her bottom.
Now that she was twenty-one, it was as if the she gave off the scent of a woman who knew how to please a man. It was all so strange and surreal because she had never been with a man like that before in her life. She was still a virgin. It wasn’t as if she had taken a vow of abstinence or anything like that. It simply never happened. Although she had engaged in casual kissing and light petting, it had gone no further. Her dreams had never been sexual, or at least not that she remembered. But now, almost every night she was thrown into sexually stimulating dreams that were so real that some mornings she woke feeling battered, like her body had been involved in physical lovemaking throughout the night. Impossible, but nevertheless, just one more thing she couldn’t explain.
Pulling herself from the bed and her eyes from the mirror, she walked quickly into the bathroom that adjoined her bedroom and stepped into the shower. The cool water felt good against her warm skin. When she was done soaping up, she rinsed off and wiped herself down with a soft towel. Deliberately, she pushed her breasts outward the way she had in her dream and walked back to her bed. She liked the feel of her hips swaying and the way her wet hair bounced and tickled her back. Turning off the light, she laid back down on the bed without even a sheet to cover her nakedness. She closed her eyes, and once again she felt herself floating through the darkness. This time when the darkness left her she was lying on a mattress, blindfolded with her wrists bound to what she could only assume were the bedposts. She was helpless, and it was exhilarating. She knew he was there, observing her from his place in the shadows. She pulled at the soft ties that bound her. “Please,” she begged. “I need to see you, not just feel your touch.”
She heard a deep laugh in response to her request. She felt his arrogance permeate the air she breathed. She understood he wanted to simply toy with her until he decided it was time to take her for his own. His lips brushed hers before he used them to taste every inch of her body. Wherever his lips touched, she burned with desire. He was playing her like a musical instrument that he was preparing for the big finale. When she cried out for him, he brought his mouth down to cover her pussy, opening her labia, nibbling at her clit that had once again swollen with her need. He lifted her by the cheeks of her ass from the bed. His tongue darted in and out of her, fucking her with firm, rapid strokes. She was consumed with her body’s response to this form of lovemaking that made her wild for him. Nothing mattered more to her at this moment in time than this man and what he was doing to her. She screamed out from the intensity of her orgasm that shook her from the inside out. His tongue gentled as he drank from her, until once again, she was surrounded by the darkness that took her away from him.
Chapter 1
Octavia opened her eyes to the sun streaming through the curtains that billowed out from her bedroom window. There was a warm breeze blowing across her bare skin. She looked over at her bedside clock. It was almost noon. Saturday was one of her favorite days. It was nice to sleep a little later, especially since she felt like she had hardly slept in days.
She pulled herself out of bed, feeling a little sore, and walked down the stairs and into the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee. Normally she would have dressed, except today she was home alone. Both her parents had left the night before right after dinner for an antique car show near Harrisburg. She didn’t expect them back until late Sunday afternoon or early evening.
The smell of coffee filled the kitchen. She drank it black. She hoped it would wake her up and keep the types of thoughts that seemed to consume her day and night at bay for a while. It was, of course, wishful thinking on her part since her body was still feverish from her dreams. Before she realized what she was doing, she had placed her coffee cup down on the table and was rummaging through the kitchen drawer near the stove where her mother kept the emergency candles.
When she found what she was looking for, she sat back down at the kitchen table. She didn’t know what was happening to her, but she was hard-pressed to fight the feelings that made her strike a match to light the white paraffin candlewick. She dripped warm wax on her arm first. She knew what she was about to do was crazy, but there was little she could do to stop herself from acting out her lustful fantasies.
She tilted the candle above her breasts and watched the warm liquid drip onto one of her puffy nipples. Moaning softly, she immediately repeated her
actions to the other nipple. Both were now taut beneath the hardening warmth. She loved the way the wax sensitized her nubs while making her pussy gush with excitement. She repeated the activity several times, using the aid of ice cubes to enhance the stimulation that resulted in delightful mini orgasms throughout her body.
She wasn’t sure how long she indulged herself before her eyes were suddenly drawn to the kitchen clock that ticked above the stove. She was not only a slave to her needs, but to time. Ever since she could remember, she hated to be late for anything, and if she didn’t stop now, she would still be pleasuring herself when the man came to pierce her nipples. Literally shaking herself from her fantasy, she blew out what was left of the candle and switched her focus to the upcoming afternoon.
Her overactive libido had given her the courage to call a new art gallery in town that not only held unusual art exhibitions, but also catered to those who wanted piercings and tattoos. She had heard about the place from one of her more artsy friends, Kala. They had been walking between classes at the local college they both attended, just talking about nothing in particular when, out of the blue, Kala shared she had her nipples pierced and a tattoo of a butterfly on her right butt cheek. Octavia was somewhat taken aback by her friend’s admission but was nevertheless intrigued.
Kala had taken her by the hand and pulled her into the ladies’ room where she all but dragged her into an empty stall. “Look, I don’t want to freak you out, but I think you need to see them in order to appreciate them.”
Rosewood, Natalie - Octavia's Time [The Klawinken] (Siren Publishing Allure) Page 1