The Wildling

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The Wildling Page 13

by Treva Harte


  "I'm almost that age myself. "

  "Everyone knows women grow better with age. More virile, more sensual. Men just…wither."

  "You aren't withered, Primary. I have no intention of retiring you. How could I? You're part of my life."

  "Thank you, Mistress." The words sounded almost sad. "You're most kind."

  Arness decided to take action. She turned in his arms and put her own arms around him. They kissed, a slow promise of more to come. Arness bit his earlobe and Primary sucked in his breath. She knew how he enjoyed that.

  She knew his body as well as he knew hers. They'd explored both often enough.

  "You aren't too old yet, Primary." Arness chuckled a little, as her hand began to trace the gradual rise of his cock. "No need to worry about being past your best sex yet, old man."

  "Mistress—" He squirmed when she traced a finger under the crown of his cock, when she used her own nipples to touch and arouse his. Suddenly his resistance faded. He sighed as he said, "Yes, of course, I’m yours. As always. For you to do with as you wish."

  His cock swelled, hard as always for her. Arness was about to climb on him, her back turned to him, when she remembered the last time she'd done this. The man she'd done it with. Oh, how she wanted that particular man. The one who she'd never see again.

  Goddess take it, she could pretend, couldn't she? Arness firmed her jaw. She didn't even have to see an actual face while she used what cock was available.

  Primary sighed behind her.

  This wasn't just an available cock. This was Primary. She couldn't pretend he was someone else. That wouldn't be fair.

  The glowing desire she'd begun to stir left abruptly. Arness shivered. The air had turned cool now that the rain had cleared out some of the heat and the sun edged down. Even the stifling air of the saloon's rented rooms was chilled. That must be why she felt so cold now.

  "Perdition." Arness rubbed herself against Primary's now stiffly out-thrust erection, allowing herself a slow shimmy up and down. Perhaps the temperature wasn't the only reason for her chill. She could do anything she wanted with Primary. Anything. But that wasn't she wanted anymore. "Double perdition."

  She stopped and turned to face Primary. Laughed a little.

  "Now I don't think I can."

  "Mistress, what's wrong?"

  "Nothing. No more than what's wrong with you."

  Primary laughed, briefly. "May I hold you then, while we sleep?"

  "Gladly." His tight hold was almost as good as sex. "I expect our full recovery by tomorrow morning."

  They both knew about Primary's morning erections.

  "I expect so, too."

  Arness caught just a trace of doubt in his voice. Was he that concerned about his momentary failure? She rested her head on his chest and threw a leg over his thigh.

  "Goodnight, dearest Primary."

  She didn't remember she wasn't going to keep pets anymore until later, when she woke up and stared out the dirty window at the newly risen crimson moon, no longer finding comfort in Primary's body warmth.

  No capturing wildings. No more pets. No more Primary. The thought of so many changes was almost too much to bear. Arness gritted her teeth and vowed to bear them anyway.

  But at night, when happiness seemed so far away, it got difficult to remember why she must.

  * * * * *

  "Primary—” Arness remembered her vow when she awoke again shortly afterward, but Primary's hand was already running up her thigh. She gasped his name rather than begin the speech she'd rehearsed in her mind. Goddess, how was she supposed to remember what to say when she could feel that monster crowding between her ass cheeks?

  "I need to talk to you." She got out that much before two of Primary's fingers clasped her clit. Arness twitched a little.

  Calm. She just needed to get a few sentences out and then they could make a calm, rational decision. He turned her and began to suck on the tip of her tongue in the way only he had managed to perfect.

  "Later, please, Mistress, I beg. We needn't wait until morning. I ache now."

  His cock silently gave proof to his words as he pulled himself over her on the creaky rented bed. Arness found herself rubbing, sliding along that erection. Primary didn't usually take the male dominant position. The night's delay had obviously taken its toll on his patience. The very unusualness of what he was doing made Arness breath harder. This was closer to what she'd had in mind.

  He was bigger than her. Stronger. He could be in control.

  "Aren't you going to ask what I want, Primary?" she asked.

  "I know what it is, Mistress. Am I not your pet? You want what we both always want when we wake up." Primary sounded almost grim. There was definitely a desperate undertone to his voice. Arness smiled.

  The talk could wait. She did need this. A hard fuck with Primary would chase the last traces of a different man, a faithless male, from her mind.

  * * * * *

  He was going to do this. He had to do this.

  Nothing was different. Arness was still poetry in bed. He had woken up stiff and needy the way he always did. Arness was still his mistress—not because she bought him but because she cared for him. She owned him because he owed her everything in his life. Primary was going to have sex with her because he owed her that, too.

  If her breasts weren't the ones he wanted, they were still responsive to his tongue. They felt soft at first when he laved them, and then hard and stiff against his tongue.

  If this was a punishment for lusting after another woman, he'd accept it. Arness was beautiful. Differently beautiful than—

  No. He wasn't going to compare.

  Primary used the head of his cock to slowly probe the entrance to her vagina. She was sensitive there.

  If he'd thought perhaps Salla was right, back when they were together and he was a little crazy with lust, he'd been reminded of his place when Arness was in trouble. He might be just a pet, but Salla didn't understand his responsibilities. A pet gave loyalty when his mistress needed aid. A pet also had duties, one of the chief ones being to fuck when his mistress wanted to fuck.

  Perdition! Primary began to rub his balls, desperately. His mistress wanted a hard fuck after being awakened, not some half-limp pretense of a dick. Goddess curse him, he'd felt like he had a steel bar between his legs when he woke up. What was wrong with him? There'd been a time when he could have sex with several women, was expected to have sex with several women, all in one night…

  He'd woken his mistress before morning to show them both he was back to normal again, more than ready to service her. Now, by the Goddess, he'd show her he could perform his duties the way he always had.

  If he wanted more for himself, he was wrong. He couldn't blame Salla. She was young and had never been anyone's mistress yet. But Salla had confused and stirred him, got him thinking about what he wanted instead of what he was supposed to think. Females confused a man. A pet. He meant they confused a pet.

  All he was doing now was right and what he had to do. But why wouldn't his stupid body cooperate?

  "Let me." Arness' strong fingers began to stroke, just perfectly.

  Primary shut his eyes and waited for her to do her magic. He circled his penis against her while they waited. Arness quivered.

  Suddenly the door banged open.

  Primary registered that just as he felt something heavy thrown against his back. He yelled. What in the Goddess' name had been used as a weapon against him? Was Merdeath here?

  The table next to the bed fell over with a crash.

  He peered into the dark. A wine glass had ricocheted from his back to hit the table. Amazingly, the glass didn't shatter. Primary stared stupidly at the unbroken cup rolling on the floor.

  "You—you rakehell!" a furious voice screamed. He knew that voice.

  A lamp flared, lighting the room. He looked up into Salla's angry face. Her hair tumbled raggedly into her eyes. There was a welt on one shoulder from a needle bush. To be truthful,
Salla smelled like mud and sweat. She was wet, dirty and definitely wrathful—not the angelic temptress of his recent fantasies.

  But as he leaped from the bed, he realized his disobedient cock had suddenly sprung to life, harder than he'd ever felt it before.

  * * * * *

  "You rakehell!"

  Everyone downstairs winced at the reverberating scream, followed by a loud crash.

  "Salla, I'm sorry!" a man's deep, panicked voice replied.

  Mistress Babs turned to the one man in the room who might know what was going on.

  "Is she as mad as she sounds?"

  "I'd say so." The pet shook his head. "Poor Primary. I'm usually the one who gets into trouble like this. Can I have some coffee?"

  "How bad a beating will that little woman give him?" one of the saloon boys asked, fearfully.

  "I don't know. He's not her pet."

  "…scoundrel!"

  "He ain't? The way she's taking on, you'd think she'd paid top unit for him!" Mistress Babs cocked her head.

  The door slammed shut.

  "Now I understand why she pushed so hard to get here, though," the pet said. "Wonder what my mistress will think of all this."

  "She ain't your mistress either?" the saloon boy squeaked.

  "Nope."

  "Rich folks sure are funny." Mistress Babs handed him the coffee. "Hey, wait! Who will pay for that coffee, pet?"

  "My name is Secondary, Mistress," the young man smiled charmingly and tilted the cup up.

  The saloon-keeper put one hand on the cup and scowled. She laid her hand on the walking stick she had laid on the bar.

  "Mistress Arness will pay," Secondary said, quickly. "She owns me and Primary."

  "The one upstairs already?" Mistress Babs began to grin. "Whoo-wee. This'll be one fun Saturday night."

  * * * * *

  She'd never heard Primary so panicked.

  "I bet you're sorry! I bet you're sorry I caught you now instead of later!" Arness watched the tiny fury sweep in and kick Primary in the shins.

  "Now, wait a minute!" Arness got to her knees, still aroused and annoyed as well.

  "I'll get to you in a moment," Salla snapped. "It's this scoundrel, this-this varlet that I need to take care of right now."

  Varlet?

  Arness opened her mouth and shut it again when she saw Primary slam the door and then throw his arms around Salla in a self-protective move that looked amazingly like an embrace.

  "How dare you have intercourse with her?" Salla's eyes were full of tears, even as she landed a kick very close to where she was aiming.

  "I didn't do anything!"

  "Liar!"

  "If I had, would I look like this right now?" Primary prodded her with an erection that, despite all his exertions, still hadn't deflated a bit since Salla had entered the room. "Apparently I can't control myself around you."

  Hmmmph. Arness narrowed her eyes.

  "How would I know?" Salla paused a moment anyhow. She said, a little less certainly, "You're a satyr."

  Arness wondered if she'd need to get a dictionary soon. She bit her lip to keep from laughing. This wasn't funny. She needed to take control here, remind this misguided woman who owned who.

  Oh.

  In that split second pause while she remembered what she didn't own anymore, Primary acted. Instead of gently deflecting Salla, as Arness had half expected, he did something quite different. Arness' mouth dropped open as he bent to give the young woman a punishing kiss.

  When the kiss didn't stop, Arness began to get a strange feeling in her stomach. Apparently everything in her world was changing. Even the most safe, secure part of it.

  Then anger hit her. A fierce, overwhelming temper.

  "Listen you-you clicksnake!" Arness pounded none too gently on Primary's shoulder. "What in perdition do you think you're doing?"

  Primary stopped his kiss and looked up, his eyes sleepy and a little dazed. As his eyes focused, his face gradually became more horrified.

  "I-I-" His voice broke.

  "Yes?" Salla crossed her arms and began to tap her foot. "Just what do you think you're doing, Primary? I thought you loved me."

  "I do, Salla."

  "And what about me?" Arness realized both her hands were clenched into fists.

  "I love you too, Mistress."

  CHAPTER TEN

  The reaction to his words was about what anyone should have expected. Arness let out a hiss at the same time Salla did. Primary took a step back from them, his eyes shifting from one to the other.

  "Forgive me, mistresses," he stuttered a little. "But I do. I'm your pet, Mistress Arness, and I swear I haven't slipped the monogamy leash. But I-I'm Salla's as well. She's claimed me. As her man."

  "She can't claim what she doesn't own!" Arness bellowed.

  "Neither can you!" Salla shrieked back.

  "I—" Arness slammed the heel of her hand into her thigh. Agreeing with the sour-faced wench was galling but necessary. "That's right. Primary isn't my pet. But I thought I wasn't just his mistress, either."

  "You're not just my—" Primary began hotly and then looked baffled. "You say I'm not your pet?"

  She'd meant that she wouldn't own any pets. But new insight came as she looked at the dawning pride in Primary's face. When had Primary ever been an ordinary pet? She'd taken pride in his abilities, but thought they reflected well on her training.

  What they'd reflected was Primary's strengths and her own blindness to them. Maybe neither she nor Primary had realized it, but in his way Primary was just as much a man—not a pet—as Adan.

  "Are you?" Arness smiled at him, suddenly.

  "N-no. No, I'm not." Primary's shoulders straightened. "It's as you and Salla say. I'm a man. No more than that. No less, either."

  "Yes. Well." Arness wasn't sure what to say or how to interpret the look on his face now. "That's the truth. I'm sorry it took me ten years to recognize it."

  "It took me thirty-three, M-Arness." Primary rubbed his hands over his unruly hair.

  They were all silent for a moment.

  "But…well, what does that mean? To you?" Primary asked her.

  "It means I can't own you. You'll stay with me only if you want to." The uncertainty over his decision, a feeling she'd never thought to have, began to bother her. Arness stepped forward. "I may not own you but I also don't share. You know that, Primary."

  "Yes." Primary looked at Salla. He looked at Arness.

  "I should stay away from you both." He said the words reluctantly.

  * * * * *

  Salla chose not to answer Primary's assertion directly. Instead she leaned closer to him and let her hand slide down his chest to his cock. Primary sighed, audibly.

  She was still angry. Very, very angry. At Arness, even though she'd just given up her claim to the big idiot in front of her. At Primary, even though he could kiss her so beautifully.

  But her body was clamoring for Primary to touch her again. She'd pushed forward into the night and the rain and the mud just in the hope she'd find him here. Now she had to take a chance.

  "I think you shouldn't stay away. But prove it. Show how you're not up to taking me," Salla challenged him.

  "I'm in no condition to take a virgin right now. I'd be too rough."

  Arness cleared her throat.

  "Have you made up your mind who to take then, Primary?"

  "No."

  "Maybe I can help make up your mind. I can help your condition. After all, I’m not a virgin. I know what I'm doing."

  Primary took another step backward. Arness came closer, letting her fingers run from one tight buttock up to rest just under Primary's testicles. His cock jumped.

  Salla's anger, which had just started to slowly subside, shot up like a kettle with too much hot steam inside. Bitch! How dare Arness know how to touch him! How dare she go ahead and fondle him so expertly!

  Primary gulped.

  Salla's ignorance suddenly seemed too crushing to bear. Virgin. I
gnorant virgin.

  Primary gave a resigned smile. He stretched out his hands, displaying his disarmed helplessness.

  "Ladies, whatever happens next, I'm going to get in trouble. Probably I deserve to be. But I don't know how to fight either of you, much less both of you. So I'm not fighting. Do your worst. Or your best." His cock stood straight, offering itself like a prize. "But remember I am a man. Not some trinket without feelings."

  Salla looked up from that cock, into Primary's face. He was so beautiful. All over. Salla licked her lips.

  Slowly it dawned on her that Arness was staring challengingly at her.

  Salla blushed. She was showing her own weakness. It must be obvious that even when she was angry enough to kill, she still yearned for a man who'd belonged to Arness for years. Yearned for him and had no idea what to do about it.

  What a fool she must look to them both!

  Anger disappeared and the tears that she'd covered over with anger suddenly threatened. Curse her if she'd actually cry in front of the two of them. She could admit defeat without blubbering.

  "I'm not going to fight anyone," Salla whispered. "There's nothing here I can fight anyhow if Primary won't choose between us. That's a choice in itself."

  "Salla, it's just that I'm—" Primary began.

  "Good-bye."

  Salla pushed the door open as quickly to leave as she had to enter.

  * * * * *

  "It's just that I'm bound to you as much as her, Arness." Primary finished his sentence.

  Arness almost reached out her hand to him, he looked so forlorn and confused. Then she realized she was comforting him over the loss of some other woman and kept her hand to herself.

  "Go on, Primary. Do you think you're bound to me still? You're not." Arness forced the words out of her mouth. Was that what he needed? Why was all this so difficult?

  Primary began to scramble into his leggings, cursed as he tangled them around his legs and then paused.

  "Arness—you matter, too. Very much indeed. I don't want you lonely."

  Primary was an idiot. A male idiot. Could anyone, even a man, really think that two women would believe they both mattered too much to leave alone?

 

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