Wild Kingdom

by Deanna Ashford

  He dismounted, still feeling uneasy at the presence of so many mercenaries, and followed the man towards the largest of the tents. It was very luxurious by Leon’s military standards, with a thick, brightly patterned carpet covering the floor, lush silken pillows and gold lamps set on low wooden tables. The tent was heated by hot coals burning in large braziers and was pleasantly warm. Leon found it far more appealing than his quarters in the castle.

  When he at last caught sight of the woman he longed to see again, his heart beat faster. She was even more stunningly beautiful than he remembered. Her blonde hair, so pale it looked almost silver, was coiled tightly atop her head, and the heavily embroidered azure-blue gown she wore emphasised the strange colour of her eyes. The irises were the most extraordinary pale blue, like limpid pools of moonlight with darkly defined rims.

  ‘My love,’ he said, stepping forwards to kiss her hand. ‘I had not thought to see you again.’

  ‘Leon,’ she replied in her husky, sensuous voice that made his knees grow weak. ‘Fate is strange, is it not? You may go, Chang,’ she told the mercenary.

  Once they were alone, she removed his sword from its scabbard and placed it beside one of the braziers, then led him towards a low couch covered in thick white fur. Leon’s breath caught in his throat as they sat down and she turned towards him. The thin blue silk clung to her shapely breasts and he could have sworn she was wearing nothing underneath as he could see the outline of her pale nipples; one of which he knew was pierced by a ring from which dangled a perfect tear-shaped diamond. He had never known anyone like this woman, her presence made him feel excited and wildly alive. She was a proud and wilful noblewoman, yet in bed she was loving and passionate, more knowledgeable about pleasing a man than the most experienced courtesan.

  She turned towards a side table, intending to pour him some wine, but Leon could not wait. Giving in to his most base urges, he grabbed hold of her and pulled her close, covering her lips with his and plunging his tongue deep into her mouth. She tasted of honey, and sweet-scented cloves. The feel of her soft body, coupled with the scent of her exotic perfume, made his senses swim and spurred him onwards. Roughly Leon forced his hand into the front of her gown, ripping the small silver buttons from their loops. He cupped her breast, feeling the cold harness of the diamond attached to her nipple pressing against his palm. She gave a soft moan and melted against him, returning his kiss with passionate abandonment, while he eased his hand lower. Urgently Leon ripped open the front of her gown, baring her entire torso. He stroked the swell of her belly and the smooth, naked skin of her mons. He had always found her lack of bodily hair exciting. It made him think he was making love to an innocent young virgin, who responded to his caresses with the expertise of a whore. The contrast was tantalisingly sensual and fired his lust.

  Blood rushed to his head. ‘I’ve missed you,’ he growled, holding her close, his fingers digging into her flesh as she tried to pull away from him.

  ‘I have missed you also,’ she said breathlessly. ‘Now desist, Leon. Tis not the time; we need to talk.’

  Leon could not ignore the rigid hardness of his cock pressing against the constricting tightness of his breeches. ‘No,’ he grunted, his desire spiralling out of control. He ripped her dress fully apart, pushed her prone on the couch and leaped astride her hips. Invigorated by the yielding wetness of her flesh, he thrust his fingers deep inside her.

  When she moaned and worked her hips against his invading digits, he pulled away from her, jerked open his breeches and mounted her in one swift movement. As he buried his cock deep into the soft warmth, she gave an angry squeal and resisted, trying desperately to buck him off her. Leon was far stronger and he ignored her struggles. She raked her nails down his cheek, and the pain only served to incite Leon even more. Filled with a powerful craving to vanquish her completely, and driven by the basest of urges, he powered into her, each pounding thrust slamming his pelvic bone hard against hers.

  She squirmed beneath him, and the smell of her, the feel of her, drove him into a wild frenzy. All of a sudden she stopped struggling and gave a submissive moan as she twined her legs around his hips. It felt as if he was somehow sliding deeper into her with each violent thrust, and Leon lost himself in the straining bliss. The pressure gradually began to build inside him, until the blood roared in his ears, his entire body a tight mass of pleasure. Then his orgasm came, exploding with a powerful wrenching spasm that forced a triumphant cry from his lips.

  His limbs trembling and rationality slowly returning, Leon looked down at the lady he adored. During their wild encounter she had dug her sharp little teeth into her lower lip and it was covered with bright beads of blood. She smiled, pursing her blood-spattered mouth, and pulled his head down to kiss him. Leon tasted the metallic, saltiness of her blood as her tongue squirmed erotically into his mouth.

  Leon was filled with the sudden longing to bury his head between her thighs and savour the nectar of their union, suck her dry and feel her come against his open mouth. But first he had to put matters right between them. He pulled away from her and collapsed limply at her side. ‘I am sorry,’ he muttered awkwardly. ‘I was crude and brutal.’

  ‘What is there to apologise for?’ She unfastened his doublet and eased it off, then took the dagger from his belt and held the blade to his chest, close to his beating heart. ‘Should I punish you for giving me pleasure?’ she teased as she cut the laces of his shirt, pulling the fabric apart so that she could trail her mouth over the hard planes of his chest. She caressed his body, working his nipples, nibbling and nipping at them with her sharp little teeth.

  ‘I only thought of my own needs,’ he gasped, writhing with pleasure.

  ‘Not so,’ she purred with a wide sensuous smile. Leon had always found it strange that her small upper incisors were filed into sharp points. He could only presume it was the usual custom in Vestfold, the land of her birth. Like most of his peers, he knew little of the cold lands north of Kabra.

  ‘I never knew you could be so wild, so savage,’ she added, running her fingers over the long red wheal she had carved on his cheek. ‘Your passion pleased me more than you’ll ever know.’

  ‘I’ve never met anyone like you,’ he confessed. Leon had never bedded a female, let alone a noblewoman, who enjoyed being treated in such a violent manner.

  ‘I should hope you have not.’ She lapped up the layer of salty perspiration that lingered on his skin. Trailing her lips lower she circled his belly button, then dipped the tip of her tongue into the shallow well.

  ‘That’s good,’ Leon gasped, as she moved closer to his cock, which lay limp on its crisp brown bed of curls. He was unable to quell a soft groan as she touched it with her tongue, licking the shaft with long strokes as a cat would when cleaning itself. Leon’s flesh was still over sensitised by his recent climax, and he shuddered as she circled the tender tip. ‘I can taste your essence mingled with mine,’ she murmured, pulling the head into her mouth.

  Even though she was being extraordinarily gentle, Leon could hardly bear the feel of her lips. His body had not yet recovered from his recent climax, and pleasure was tempered by aching discomfort, but despite everything he was becoming more and more aroused.

  Keeping him trapped in the hot wetness of her mouth, she swivelled round, until she was sitting astride his waist. Leon was faced with the delectable sight of her pale buttocks bobbing sensuously up and down as she mouthed his cock. He grunted and shuddered as she gradually eased her body upwards, and her firm buttock cheeks opened enough to allow him a brief glimpse of the rosy brown ring hidden inside. Leon had never considered penetrating that orifice before, but he did now, overcome by the eroticism of the sight.

  Soon she was crouched astride his head, her open quim poised tantalisingly above his face. Her strong musky odour excited Leon as he stared up at the gaping rosy flesh. ‘Taste me,’ she begged, pressing herself hard against his face.

  Leon kissed her, sliding his tongue along the soft
folds, while he felt her mouth continue to work on his aching shaft. Burrowing his lips deeper he found the hard pip of her clitoris and pulled it into his mouth, sucking on it sensuously until he heard her muffled groans. He felt his cock grow rigid, but at the same time the acute discomfort increased. No matter how hard he tried, he knew that he would be unable to respond to the need to climax again. With increased urgency his lips worked their magic: sucking, licking and nibbling until he felt her body tense against his mouth. She shuddered, pushing her body hard against his face as her orgasm came.

  Leon gently eased her away from his aching loins. ‘I’m not yet ready,’ he told her. ‘However much I may want it to be,’ he added, pulling her round and cradling her in his arms.

  ‘There are advantages to being a woman,’ she said with a soft laugh. ‘We have the unique ability to reach the peak of pleasure again and again.’

  ‘I had not thought of that before,’ Leon confessed, then he remained silent for a moment, before adding, ‘How came you here, my love? This is not the road north.’

  ‘Once we had parted I came to realise that I could not face the future without you. I heard tell that you were charged with escorting the Lady Rianna to Harn, so I hired these mercenaries to protect me and followed you. We would have been hard pressed to catch up with you if you had not paused to rest in the castle of Dane.’

  ‘You say that you cannot face the future without me?’ Leon asked, hardly able to believe that all he had wished for might be about to come true.

  She smiled lovingly. ‘Indeed, my lord, I cannot. Now that the battle to free Kabra is over, you can look to the future. Is that not so?’

  ‘So we can,’ he agreed. ‘Nevertheless, I did not think that the news of Prince Tarn’s victory would travel so swiftly.’

  ‘It did not,’ she replied. ‘We heard the joyful news when we arrived in the village a few hours ago. One of the peasants had delivered fresh produce to the castle early this morning and the servants there were all too eager to share their good news. When I learned you were to stay at the castle a few days more I decided to send word to you immediately.’

  ‘Once my men-at-arms return from scouring the forest for the last remaining bandits, we can travel back to Ruberoc together,’ Leon said, thinking that the first thing he must do on their return was speak to his father. He was certain that his parents would be delighted with such a match.

  Leon knew the baroness was a very rich young woman. Not only did she own vast tracts of land in Percheron, she had in her baggage a chest full of the most magnificent gems he had ever seen. She had told him that most were gifted to her by her late husband and the rest had been part of her own dowry. Once Tarn was King, Leon expected to be rewarded with honours and lands of his own. With the lady he loved at his side, his future now looked better than he had ever expected it to be.

  ‘As you wish,’ she said compliantly. ‘But first this . . .’

  Rising to her knees she straddled Leon again. Gently taking hold of his partially erect cock, she stuffed it inside her, wiggling her hips, burying it deeper and deeper.

  Sarin awoke with a start, unsure what had disturbed his slumber. Most probably it was the hardness of the floor coupled with the cold – he had nothing to protect him from the chill night air, apart from his own scanty tunic which he’d used in a useless effort to try and cover himself.

  He shivered and sat up, pulling his tunic up over his legs, fastening it as best he could around his waist. Moonlight streamed through the windows and Sarin calculated that there were at least two hours until dawn, maybe even more. He rose stiffly to his feet; his body felt bruised and battered, and there was a dull ache between his buttock cheeks, which served as a permanent reminder of his brutal possession by Danara. Once she had tired of using him in any number of perverse ways she had thrown him out of her bed, commanded him to sleep on the floor as he always did when he spent the night in her room.

  Sarin looked at Danara sleeping peacefully in her bed. He was filled with hate and loathing for her. Yet he couldn’t ignore the fact that in a bizarre way he’d obtained pleasure from the many cruelties she had inflicted upon him. He took a step back, realising that he could not feel the weight of the chain pulling at his neck. The guards had unfastened it when they had spread-eagled him across the bed, and it appeared that Danara had forgotten to tether him to it again.

  Hope leaped within him, this was the opportunity he had been looking for. At this time of night the guards would be far less vigilant, most probably half-asleep. He had to figure out a way to free his hands, then he just might be able to find a way out of the castle. The metal cuffs around his wrists had been welded into place by the castle blacksmith, but for his captors’ convenience the chain that held them together was only threaded through a heavy link attached to each bracelet, then fastened together with a simple padlock. It would probably be far quicker to try and force the lock, than find out where Danara had hidden the key. For all he knew it might not be in her room, she may even have given it to one of the guards.

  Sarin prowled silently around the chamber until he found what he needed: a sturdy, sharp-ended hairpin that had been left with a number of others on a low table close to the bed.

  A few years ago a thief had been brought before Sarin for judgement. The young man had already been found guilty of a number of crimes and the law decreed that he should be taken to a place of execution and publicly beheaded. Sarin had taken a liking to the handsome youth and instead of sending him to his death had kept him at court as one of his personal body slaves. Their relationship had been very close; the young thief had displayed a passionate enthusiasm for pleasing Sarin in any number of ways. During their time together he had showed Sarin some of the secrets of his former profession. Sarin had watched him pick a variety of different locks and had even tried to do it himself. Eventually he had succeeded, but only with the thief’s help, and he knew it was not as easy as it appeared to be.

  Once he’d tired of the thief’s presence, Sarin had rewarded his loyalty by transmuting his sentence to life imprisonment. He had been sent to the galleys to spend the rest of his days chained to an oar, forced to toil endlessly, and Sarin was all too aware that few galley slaves survived for more than a couple of years.

  His body tense with concentration, Sarin inserted the tip of the pin in the keyhole, trying to find the internal mechanism of the lock. Unskilled as he was, he knew it would take a fair amount of patience and determination to locate just the right spot. He struggled on for what seemed like ages, and even began to wonder if he might fail, until he felt something give way inside and heard the faint, encouraging click. Cautiously he pulled at the hasp and it came away in his hands.

  Sarin unthreaded the chain and placed it on the floor, wincing at the faint clinking sound of metal coiling upon metal. As he flexed his arms, he glanced apprehensively towards the bed and was relieved to see no sign of movement from Danara. Feeling more confident, Sarin walked over to a pair of large, carved-wood chests, set against the wall close to one of the tall windows, and eased open the lids. One contained women’s clothing, which was of no use, but the other chest was filled with an assortment of garments and weaponry – presumably battle trophies taken from those Danara had killed or enslaved.

  Not wanting to make too much noise, Sarin selected the first weapons he came upon: a sturdy serviceable short sword and an ornate dagger with a finely wrought silver hilt. He also found a pair of leather trousers and a fur-lined doublet. He smiled wryly as just beneath them he discovered a long sky-blue, silk pennant, bearing the arms of Percheron, which had not that long ago decorated the lance of one of his men-at-arms.

  Sarin placed the garments and sword in a pile on the floor. Then, draping the silk pendant around his neck, and clutching the dagger in his hand, he walked silently back to the bed. Danara was still sleeping peacefully, her auburn hair splayed across the pillow, the bedclothes rucked around her naked hips. She was beautiful and he wanted her, perhaps n
ow more than ever. Good sense told him to leave straight away, to make his escape while he could, but Sarin hadn’t forgotten his vow – the thought that had helped to keep him defiant and steadfast all these long months. He was determined to fuck her no matter what.

  Letting the blue tunic slip to the floor, he crept to the foot of the mattress. The ropes that had been used on him were still attached to the bed-posts, and it was easy enough to loop them gently around Danara’s ankles without waking her. Sarin picked up the braided silk girdle she’d discarded along with her dress, and moved to the side of the bed to look thoughtfully down at the sleeping queen.

  Gently he brushed the tips of his fingers across her nipples. They appeared to be slightly elongated by the near permanent pressure of the clamps, which now lay discarded on a bedside table. She moaned and moved her head as Sarin tied the silk girdle around her left wrist. Cautiously he moved her other arm, fastening her wrists together. Fortune was on his side, because she hadn’t woken, but he knew he must act swiftly now to achieve his desired objective; he had to be in full control before she came to and realised what was happening. Leaping astride her waist, he held her down with the weight of his body as he placed a hand across her mouth to stifle her surprised screams, and pressed the tip of the dagger to the pulse at the base of her throat.

  Danara awoke. Her eyes fluttered open, then widened in terror as she saw Sarin crouching menacingly over her. ‘Not a sound,’ he warned, pressing the blade harder to her throat until he drew forth a bright bead of blood. ‘Call the guards and you’ll be dead before they even enter the room,’ he continued, inflamed by the raw fear in her eyes.

  She was wise enough to heed his warning, knowing better than to chance crying out as he eased his hand from her mouth. ‘You’ll regret this,’ she hissed, before her words were stilled as Sarin gagged her with the silk pennant bearing the arms of Percheron.