Wild Kingdom

by Deanna Ashford

  She still found it difficult to accept that Sarin was alive, and wondered why he had come there instead of returning to Percheron and attempting to regain his throne. Also she had no idea what Ragnor was planning. She was more than certain he would either try to ransom Tarn, or use him to gain control of Kabra. Niska preferred the latter plan, because once Ragnor ruled Kabra he would have no need for Tarn. Then she might be able to convince Ragnor to give her Tarn as her slave. That had been her ambition ever since she had first laid eyes on him in Percheron. Owning Tarn would be the perfect way to hurt Rianna. Revenge always did bring with it the sweetest meat.

  She was so caught up in her thoughts that she failed to notice Sarin walking up the corridor towards her, until he was standing in front of her. ‘So, Niska?’ He smiled in his usual rakish fashion. ‘We are alone at last.’

  ‘Sarin,’ she acknowledged, not offering him the respect of his former title. In Vestfold he was no better than any other man. He was no longer the omnipotent monarch she had once willingly served. ‘Your fortunes have changed yet again. Not only does my brother feed you and your whore, he clothes you as well, in garments befitting your former status.’

  ‘Your brother has been more than kind. But his kindness comes with a price,’ he added wryly. He looked Niska up and down, admiration lighting his dark eyes. ‘Fate has been kind to you, Niska, so it seems.’

  ‘Luck has no part in where I find myself,’ she said dismissively. ‘And little in yours I’d wager. You were travelling under Tarn’s protection, yet you were only too happy to betray him when it suited you. Do you betray all who place their trust in you?’

  ‘What do you think?’ he challenged.

  ‘That perhaps I should warn my brother,’ she retorted.

  ‘Ragnor is well able to look after his own affairs. He values the prize I have given him.’

  ‘After all that has happened between you in the past, how did you ever persuade Tarn to trust you?’ she asked curiously.

  ‘Trust wasn’t the point,’ he told her. ‘Convenience was the motive when we started out. We were both searching for you. It seemed wiser to do so together.’

  ‘Tarn was following me intent on rescuing Rianna. But why were you doing so?’ she asked innocently.

  ‘You know full well why,’ he growled.

  ‘Because you adore me so much you could not live without me,’ she suggested with a cynical smile. ‘You flatter me, Sarin.’

  ‘You always were a devious bitch.’ He grabbed her arm as she tried to brush past him, and slammed her against the wall.

  ‘Desist,’ she hissed. ‘How dare you lay hands on me!’

  ‘How dare you steal what is mine.’ Sarin pressed his body close to hers and the heat grew between Niska’s thighs. The animal magnetism was still there; time had not diminished the intense attraction between them.

  Niska tried to remain immune to Sarin’s charms although it was far from easy. He had always held a seductive power over her. It was Sarin who had first introduced Niska to the varied delights of the more erotic and bizarre sexual practices. He was a master at his art and had excited her more than any other man could, even Chang.

  ‘Steal?’ She smiled sweetly. ‘Why should you think such a thing? I did not steal from you, Sarin.’ A wild excitement filled her veins, and Niska was filled with the sudden need for Sarin to pull up her skirts and fuck her.

  ‘You broke into my treasure vault and stole my jewels. Lesand sent a troop of men after you, Niska. You’re a thief pure and simple. No one takes what is mine and gets away with it.’

  A frisson of fear slid down Niska’s spine and the sensation was invigorating. Sarin’s obsidian eyes bored into hers, and she could feel the hard muscles of his belly, and the firm line of his cock pressing up against her pussy. Sarin was no more immune to her attractions than she was to his.

  ‘The only thing of yours I took was Rianna. You should bless me for ridding you of the adulterous bitch,’ she ranted, her need for him growing stronger. Warm liquid seeped from her cunt, dripping teasingly over her denuded lips.

  ‘Lies trip off your viperous tongue so easily.’ Sarin forced her even harder against the wall, trapping her there with his muscular frame, grinding his pelvis against hers. A warrior walked by and glanced at them curiously but they both ignored him, too wrapped up in one another to care what he thought.

  ‘No better than they do yours,’ she countered, shuddering as he sensuously licked her cheek.

  ‘Does your quim still taste as sweet?’ he whispered as his hand slid under her skirt. Sarin’s expression changed, lust lighting his dark eyes as he found her naked pussy. ‘So you still keep yourself denuded there, just as I commanded?’

  ‘Not for your sake, Sarin. For the sake of all my other lovers.’

  Niska gave a soft growl as his fingers probed her sex, sliding deep into the soft, wet channel.

  ‘Your brother doesn’t know what he’s missing.’ Sarin’s lips caressed her earlobe, then he nipped it with his teeth. ‘I’ve seen the way you look at him. Yet he rejected you, Niska. He prefers Rianna and that sickens you, doesn’t it?’

  ‘All men are fools – my brother one of the biggest because he trusts you!’ She shivered as his fingers dug deeper, twisting and teasing until hot waves of need consumed her. ‘By the gods, Sarin,’ she groaned rubbing her belly against his.

  ‘No one can satisfy you like I can Niska,’ he grunted. ‘Your brother may have refused to bed you, but he’s still no fool.’ Sarin bent his fingers so that his knuckles brushed a sensitive spot. The pleasure was so intense that Niska’s knees almost buckled. ‘Ragnor demands much in return for his help. More than I wish to pay: all of Kabra and near a third of Percheron.’

  ‘Will you give it him?’ she asked as the burning heat turned her sex into an aching furnace. ‘Or take my help instead.’

  Sarin froze at her words, then to her disappointment and despair withdrew from her. ‘Your help, Niska?’ he asked, running his sodden fingers tantalisingly across her mouth. She could smell the odour of her own juices, taste their unique, musky flavour on her lips.

  ‘I have a large force of mercenaries at my call, and the funds to employ many more. Baron Crissana left me well provided for.’ She pressed her thighs together, fighting the need for him to fuck her, longing to feel his thick cock piercing her hungry flesh. They stuck together, slick with her juices, her entire groin an engorged, aching mass of desire. Yet she would never lower herself to plead for anything from Sarin. ‘We could raise an army big enough to allow you to regain control of Percheron, without my brother’s involvement.’

  ‘And the price?’ Sarin took a step back and stared enquiringly at Niska.

  ‘You are the price, Sarin.’ She glanced down at his prick bulging lewdly against his fine cloth breeches. ‘Agree to make me Queen of Percheron and promise that you’ll never even consider taking another wife. If you do that, then I’ll help you to depose of Chancellor Lesand.’

  Sarin’s expression told Niska that he was interested and intrigued by her proposal. She knew he would not give her an answer yet. Truthfully she had not even decided if she wanted to help him, but it was always wiser to keep a number of different options open.

  Chapter Eleven

  NISKA’S PUSSY STILL ached and her engorged nipples rubbed against her satin gown as she walked towards Ragnor’s strongroom, where Tarn was confined. Prisoners were usually lodged in the cells attached to the slave quarters, but Tarn was far too important a prize for that.

  Her brief encounter with Sarin had been arousing and had left her hungry for fulfilment, just as it had him. It was a delightfully titillating sensation and would give her confrontation with Tarn an extra edge of excitement, she thought, as she brushed past the sentry on duty outside the strongroom.

  Jorvik was inside talking to the other guard. He smiled warmly at Niska as she sidled up to him. She asked, ‘Is the prisoner confined as I suggested?’

  ‘Yes, but are the chain
s really necessary?’ he enquired. ‘It would be impossible for him to escape.’

  ‘Necessary,’ she insisted. ‘If I am to venture into his cell. My brother wishes me to examine him and ensure he has no wounds that need attending to. He appears to be a noble warrior, but he is also very dangerous. With my own eyes I saw him attack his cousin Cador for no reason at all in Sarin’s palace in Percheron.’

  Out of the corner of her eye she saw Tarn tense angrily at her words. At the time he had just discovered that Cador had betrayed him and he’d had every right to attack his cousin, but Niska was not about to tell Jorvik that.

  ‘Most likely he had good reason,’ Jorvik replied, glancing at Tarn. ‘It’s a fact of life that men do battle to settle their differences.’

  While women attain their goals in more devious and infinitely more successful ways, Niska thought as she smiled sweetly at Jorvik. His presence was beginning to irritate her. She was eager to be rid of him and confront Tarn in private.

  ‘I must be about my business,’ she pointed out. ‘As you must yours, no doubt. If I decide that the prisoner needs medical attention, I’ll send for Gunnar – she’s well skilled in such matters, I hear.’

  Jorvik gave a sly grin. ‘Gunnar is well skilled in many matters.’

  ‘Indeed,’ Niska said tartly.

  ‘I’ll leave you to your task.’ Jorvik ignored her sour expression as he smiled at her, then he left the room.

  Thick bars divided off the far end of the windowless chamber. The barred room usually contained gold and other booty, but that had been moved to the adjoining strongroom so that a secure prison could be available for King Tarn. He was by far the most important captive Ragnor had ever laid hands on.

  Tarn’s blue eyes coldly surveyed Niska as the guard unlocked the door and she stepped inside the cell. ‘You may return to your duties,’ she told the guard. ‘The prisoner is securely confined. I’ll be quite safe.’

  The brute nodded and returned to his bench to resume sharpening his sword, while Niska looked thoughtfully at Tarn. Tarn was one of the most handsome men she’d ever laid eyes on and she’d always desired him. There was a purity and nobility in Tarn that fascinated her, and her pussy ached even more as she thought of owning him as her own personal body slave. He had a few bruises and scratches on his gold-tinted skin but apart from that he appeared to be unscathed.

  ‘I’m reminded of another occasion, much like this,’ she said with a teasing smile.

  Tarn tensed, but could not draw back as she stepped closer. His arms were chained above his head, and chains fastened his feet to rings bolted to the floor. Confined and helpless he was hers to do with as she wished.

  ‘Would that it had also been the last,’ he grated, watching her warily.

  ‘Then you were my husband’s newest captive.’ Niska ran her hands over his superb pecs, feeling them tighten at her touch. ‘Now my brother holds you prisoner. The gods do not appear to be on your side, do they, Tarn?’

  ‘The gods had nothing to do with this. They did not betray me. It was Sarin,’ he said through gritted teeth.

  The pain and hatred he felt for Sarin was mirrored on his face. Tarn’s relationship with Sarin had always been an enigma to Niska. They professed to hate and despise each other, yet they were constantly drawn together, and there was always an underlying tension between them as if powerful emotions they didn’t want to surface were constantly held in check.

  ‘Your chains enhance your beauty, Tarn,’ she taunted, her lust for him growing by the moment. ‘Slavery suits you, it seems.’

  ‘Damn you to perdition, Niska,’ he growled, staring at her with loathing.

  Niska smiled, running her hands teasingly up and down his arms and over his chest. ‘Ragnor asked me to come here and ensure you were unharmed. You’re worth much to him, he wants to ensure his prize is safe and well cared for.’

  ‘Call this well cared for?’ Tarn gave a harsh laugh. ‘Your brother saw for himself that I was unhurt in the battle when his men attacked us.’ He shuddered as her fingers pulled at his nipples. Niska played with them, pulling and twisting them until they turned an angry red. ‘How could I be harmed when not one of his men would come near me?’ he asked bitterly.

  ‘They had precise instructions. They were to bring you back alive and unharmed no matter what.’ She stroked his flat belly, her finger playing with the buckle of the belt that held up his thick leather trousers. ‘The King of Kabra is worth far more to him alive than dead.’

  Niska glanced towards the guard. ‘Go find Gunnar. Tell her to prepare a drawing poultice of arnica for the prisoner.’

  He rose to his feet. ‘I have orders not to leave you alone, my lady.’

  ‘There’s a guard outside the door, I’ll come to no harm. Whereas if I do not have the poultice . . .’

  ‘As you command.’ He pushed his sword into the worn scabbard at his belt, and left the room.

  ‘Alone at last!’ Niska purred. ‘Better to conduct this interview in private, don’t you think?’

  ‘It is never better to be alone with you, Niska,’ Tarn said with a twisted grin. ‘I’ve learned that lesson to my downfall before.’

  ‘Yet you enjoy what I do to you, don’t you, Tarn?’

  ‘Never,’ he groaned as she unfastened his belt and eased his leather pants down over his lean hips.

  Lust lighted her eyes as she exposed his generous sex and muscular thighs. ‘And my memory does not deceive me,’ she murmured, her fingers brushing his cock, then cupping his balls. ‘Yet you have more scars than I recall.’ She rubbed the paper-fine skin of the soft sac and Tarn shuddered. Even the most reluctant lover could be turned on by such a caress. Tarn was no exception and his cock twitched and began to stiffen, even though Niska knew that he was doing his best to fight his arousal. ‘No doubt you fought many battles.’ She rubbed her satin-covered tits against his bare chest, still stroking the tender patch of skin that set his senses alight whether he wanted it or not.

  ‘Few so difficult as this,’ he gasped, as she began to wank his cock.

  It grew hard, the skin on its shaft smooth, too delicious to resist and Niska rubbed it harder. ‘Tis so large,’ she said with a breathy sigh.

  ‘Leave me alone, bitch,’ he growled, his muscles straining as he tried to pull away from her and was brought short by his chains.

  ‘Why resist now when you were so willing in the past?’ she reminded him.

  ‘I pleasured you then because you ordered it and I was weak,’ he replied, staring at her with disgust as she pulled back his foreskin to reveal the succulent plum beneath, one sparkling dew-drop trembling at its tip.

  ‘Ordered it?’ she repeated. ‘Why did you not refuse me? Did I beat you? Did I have the gaolers hold you down? You wanted me, Tarn, you’re just not willing to admit it even to yourself. You desire me and in time you’ll come to enjoy being my slave, just as you enjoyed serving Sarin.’

  ‘Ragnor has his uses for me. He’ll not give me to you, madam.’

  ‘He will in the fullness of time. When your usefulness to him is at an end.’ Niska longed to spear herself on Tarn’s cock and feel it piercing her vitals. Her knees felt weak at the thought as she ran her thumb across the straining head, feeling it twitch powerfully in her hand. But there was no way she could carry out her desires when he was chained like this. ‘Then you’ll be mine completely.’

  ‘I’ll never be yours, Niska.’ Tarn shook his head, yet his belly trembled and his cock leaped in her hand.

  Niska pressed herself closer to him, inhaling his masculine scent, which was intensified by the odour of battle still clinging to his flesh. She felt Tarn strain against his fetters again, trying to pull away from her as she lifted up her skirts and straddled his bare thigh, rubbing her denuded pussy against his leg. Liquid seeped from her cunt, streaking his golden skin with its sticky wetness. The pleasure of being so close to Tarn increased her arousal as she wanked his cock harder.

  Power was a glorious aphr
odisiac, she thought, her sense focused on a knife-edge of lust as he strained to pull away from her, while she pressed her quim harder against his leg. The soft hairs on his thigh rubbed against her hungry clit, as she watched his face twist in a rictus of agony at the effort of fighting his impending climax.

  His shaft pulsed in her hand, and she heard his despairing groan. His thigh muscles contracted against her open pussy, as great goats of spunk spurted from his cock, covering her hand with translucent pearls.

  Niska moaned and pressed her fingers against her quim, anointing her sex with Tarn’s leavings. His chained body pressed close to hers, and the smell of him surrounding her, increased her desire as she rubbed his creamy offerings round and round her clit until she came, in a long drawn out shudder of bliss.

  ‘Mayhap I should have you chained to my bed, then I could take you whenever it suited me,’ she said with a soft laugh as she pulled down her skirts and daintily licked her fingers clean.

  ‘Even if you possessed my body, you’d never posses my mind. So you’d never truly own me, Niska. No one ever will, only Rianna,’ he said, his voice hoarse with emotion, his face flushed.

  ‘You will be mine,’ she insisted, pulling up his breeches and refastening his belt. ‘And Rianna will belong to my brother. Think of it Tarn. You may well both reside in the same longhouse, yet you will be forbidden to touch or even speak. You’ll be so close, yet so far, spending every night knowing that your beloved is sharing Ragnor’s bed, just as she does now.’

  ‘Never, Niska. I’ll die first,’ he spat, staring at her with such hatred it took her breath away.

  Sarin slipped silently into his bedchamber, his heart still pounding. He had almost been caught in Niska’s chamber by Tanith, but she had come and left never realising he was hidden under the bed. Zene was already in the room anxiously pacing the floor. ‘Did you find them?’ she asked agitatedly.

  ‘I did.’ He grinned as he poured the contents of the leather bag he was carrying on to the bed. Strands of gems, bracelets and diadems landed in a tangled mass along with a plethora of loose stones. The morass of colour sparkled in the lamplight and Zene gave a soft gasp of surprise.