Microsoft Word - Assassin Master final for conversion
Page 10
His hands felt so enticing with warm water upon her body she hoped he would not stop. Strong hands rubbed circles around her tense shoulders. He wrapped his fingers around and down her arms, gliding their way lower to her waist and hips.
“You will have your turn,” Tyr said, obviously
enjoying the feel of her body beneath his strong hands. “Turn around,” he commanded.
She turned and gasped as Tyr soaped her breasts . He captured her lips in a kiss so fiery she thought she would expire. His hands lowered until one slipped between her thighs. Carrie gripped at his shoulders, whimpering. She knew he was going to take her. This was the first time she had seen him completely undressed. He was breathtaking and she wasn’t afraid.
She rested her head upon his chest, wondering at
the sensations he was causing. He had bathed her often, but never like this. His hands roamed everywhere, caressing, teasing; it was glorious. She tensed as Tyr ran his hand over and between her backside, remembering what the hideous man had done, hurting her by being so rough; his calloused hands had squeezed so painfully.
“Oh please.” Her voice quivered with fear.
“Easy, sweetheart, don’t be afraid of me, please.
I want to explore every inch of you,” Tyr said. “I won’t hurt you, I would never hurt you, I promise.” His voice so earnest, his words so heartfelt, she believed him.
Carrie felt his hands trail further down her thighs
as the water continued to rise around them. The sound of the streaming water pounded behind her. She shoved all thought of the cruel man and of Seth away. She had never imagined her first time she would be taken as a slave, and not by her husband, but realized this was exactly as she had imagined it; she was with a man she wanted. She panted, still clutching his shoulders, wondering what else to do.
“Tyr, what do you want of me?” she gasped. “Submit,” he told her passionately, as his hands
became more demanding. “How?” she asked.
Tyr claimed her lips in a steamy kiss, while his fingers once more parted her. His cautious finger stroked soap over her, making her slippery. Carrie was writhing and moaning before him, caught up in the sensations he was stirring.
“I will teach you, if you want to learn,” Tyr said. “I don’t want to steal your only gift.”
Carrie looked at him, confused. She noted his arousal, thicker and fuller, jutting before him, pressing against her belly. Her breathing was ragged and she wondered why he had suddenly ceased his exploration. He looked at her with desperate want
and yearning, but made no move to take her.
She realized, unbelievably, he was giving her a choice. Carrie looked up into his smoldering eyes, knowing he would stop if she asked; one word and she would remain untouched by him. She realized in that moment he was giving her the option of not belonging to him. But Carrie wanted him. She did not want him to own her, but she wanted to be his.
Her mind struggled with the fact he had brought
her here to this place; he had allowed another to touch her intimately without interfering. But besides making her feel vulnerable and helpless, Seth had not physically harmed her. Tyr had stepped in when Seth meant to strike her. He had stopped him then; he had kept his word he would protect her.
She remembered lying on the bed at Roll’s thinking she would die, but Tyr was there, rocking her, speaking kindly. He had taken care of her as no other had. He made her feel safe, wanted...loved. She reddened with the thought she had fantasized about him making love to her; he was so incredibly handsome. How would it feel to have his powerful arms gripping her in heated passion, his lips once more searching her own, tasting her, suckling gently upon her breasts? Wondering at the sweet words he would use to entice her.
She wondered if he would welcome her own exploration to himself. Carrie felt her breath quicken in anticipation. She wasn’t certain, but thought he
would indeed welcome her touch. Trembling, she reached a timid hand down to grip him with an inexperienced grasp, squeezing. Tyr groaned. He gripped her hand beneath his, moving it over him; she rubbed the length of him, admiring his smooth, hard heat, the absolute raw animal maleness. This could be a weapon more dangerous than the gun he wielded, she decided.
“Teach me,” Carrie whispered urgently.
Tyr once more claimed her lips, intent on doing just that.
Chapter Eight
Using his fingers, Tyr once more rubbed between her legs with soap. He penetrated a bit deeper, and she gasped. Carrie released him and used her hands to steady herself by gripping his wet shoulders. She felt his hard arousal lower to press between her slender legs. The slick tip of him pushed gently at her, parting her, and she closed her eyes, refusing to dwell on his large size.
Tyr guided himself into her, pausing at her
barrier. He kissed her forehead, asking her to trust him. She nodded. Positioning her, he gripped her back and buttocks with large hands, holding her securely, and in one fluid motion thrust deeply. His penetration filled her and she closed around him. Carrie screamed in surprised pain, her fingernails digging into him. Her breath caught in her throat.
“Please, Tyr, no, don’t hurt me anymore,” she
cried out, terrified of the powerful man once more. She hadn’t realized how painful this would be. It felt as though she were being split apart. She gasped, petrified, a horrified thought thundering through her mind: this is what her life was now, this is what many men would demand of her, whether she allowed it or
not.
Oh God! This is what the hideous man she had collided with would do to her; only he would squeeze her brutally, inflicting pain everywhere. Seth had been about to strike her. Would he hit her while he took her? She sobbed with building, insurmountable fear. She had seen only two men at this awful place so far; how many would force her, how many would hurt her?
Tyr remained motionless, buried within her, their bodies molded together. He cradled her head against his chest and spoke to her, his words soothing and hypnotic. She pushed at him, trying to dislodge him, but he held fast. Her small fists beat at his chest. She was powerless against him and she began sobbing, whimpering for mercy. Looking down as the water rose to her thighs, Carrie could see droplets of bright red blood pooling around them beneath her, and she cried harder. She was so frightened.
“It’s all right, Carrie, don’t be afraid. You’ll be
fine, sweetheart, I promise,” Tyr soothed.
He pulled himself from within her, yet before he exited he plunged upwards again, once more filling her completely. She cried out and shuddered in his arms, gasping for air. Once more her fingers dug into his shoulders, trying to maintain her balance. She had allowed this, she realized; she had granted him her permission, the only man in the entire compound who would ask, not demand. All she could do was suffer
through it.
Tyr rubbed at her tense back, his face lowered into her neck. “Sweetheart, if you remain tight it will continue to hurt. I’m so sorry, honey, but if I stop now you will be too terrified to let me touch you ever again. Relax, little one, I am not trying to hurt you on purpose, I swear. Concentrate, sweetheart. Feel my hands instead. Hear my words.”
Carrie could feel his hands upon her body; she
could hear his gentle words as he whispered loving endearments to her, coaxing her, cajoling her from the frightening images bombarding her. She felt his soft breath as he trailed kisses over her face and neck. Tyr moved within her, sliding back and forth, rubbing more soap onto him as the water closed around their hips. There was no longer any evidence of blood, which calmed her further.
“This is what they will all do to me?” she whimpered, her voice trembling. She gazed up imploringly. Tyr smiled back, his eyes lit with understanding. He cupped the side of her face tenderly.
“No, Carrie, it’s me, just me. I promise to keep you safe from the others. I want you. I want you to want me.”
His sincere words relieved Car
rie to a point where
she stopped fighting her warring thoughts. Tyr promised to keep her safe. She noted the agonizing pain between her thighs had been replaced with a
gentle ache, which was also subsiding into an alien feeling she could not explain. She no longer pushed at him. Her body reacted of its own accord, searching to explore a new feeling invading her senses, and she pulled him closer.
She moaned and began a hesitant rocking against him. The feeling was foreign and somehow surprisingly not. Her mind and body reached for this new emotion bombarding her senses. She dropped her hands from his shoulders and she could see the marks her fingernails had made. She felt no guilt; after all, she had not drawn any blood as had he.
She trailed her hands over the hard muscles of his
broad back and well-built arms as he continued to rock against her. Tentative hands cupped his behind, moving back and forth with his rhythm. She sighed, tossing her head back, just feeling, and decided what was happening was not nearly as unpleasant as she had at first thought. But she was confused as well; was this all there was to it?
* * * *
Tyr held her against him as his pace increased. Though he could see her confusion, he could feel her acceptance and he thrust harder, encouraged as she tried to keep pace with him. He knew she would be unable to and he gripped her hard, pumping while she cried out his name. She begged for his mercy as he watched her, seeing her react to each new sensation. Tyr knew she would be frightened as these new,
unfamiliar feelings would swamp her senses and begin to overpower her thoughts and reasoning.
“Tyr, help me!” she pleaded.
“Submit,” Tyr demanded harshly. “How?” Carrie cried out.
“Give yourself to me,” he commanded, and gripped her to himself.
Carrie shuddered and relaxed her hips. Her head dropped to his chest; she hung onto him for dear life, clinging once more as if she were afraid of falling down a hill into a chasm. She surrendered complete control to him. Tyr felt her give in to his command. She belonged to him and he took what was his.
He thrust harder, faster, feeling Carrie’s hands slide while trying to keep her grip. She needn’t have worried, he wasn’t about to let her get away. His one hand caught both her wrists, pulling them high over her head, pressing her against the side of the tub, while he wrapped his arm tightly around her tiny waist; she wasn’t going anywhere. She cried out and gasped, shuddering against him. Tyr howled, thrilled to have finally possessed her. His motion quieted and he felt her go limp under his hold. He held her to his chest and reached to turn off the water, stopping it as it rose well past their waists.
Tyr removed himself from her but kept her
cradled in his arms. He positioned her onto his lap, lifting her slightly to make certain he could check to see if he had caused any damage. The flow of blood
had ceased. She was not torn, just red and swollen. Tyr was a very large man and she was very small.
He washed her hair, glorifying in its fullness and
savoring the knowledge that she belonged to him in every way. Tyr thought that this was what it would be like if he could keep her here with him always. Frustrated, he surmised that he had bought her, she did belong to him, and he didn’t have to set her free. He could make her happy. He would allow her to keep his children. He wanted her to have his children. He knew she would be a wonderful mother.
Realization settled. She would be used by Seth and his men repeatedly when he needed to be away. He had promised her he would be the only one to have her—living here, he would be unable to keep the promise. She would never be happy or truly his alone as long as she remained here.
Tyr continued to wash her, thinking hard. He needed to set her free, yet felt it would not hurt for her to remain here with him for a little while. She had given herself to him. She would again, he vowed. He would keep Seth and the others from making any type of claim on her. Troubled, he wondered what to say to Seth when he left to find her a new identity. He did not want anyone touching her but himself.
Carrie stirred. She tilted her head and Tyr gazed
into her clear blue eyes. She looked well spent and so beautiful.
“You were worth waiting for,” she whispered
quietly.
Smiling happily, Tyr kissed her.
* * * *
Carrie wandered around a massive garden, amazed at the greenery when everything off in the distance seemed so dead. She stuck her hand under one of the many fountains, feeling its coolness drip over her. She heard a child laugh from over a wall and sighed.
She had been at Seth’s home for three days now. True to his word, Tyr had kept her by his side every minute. They had explored one another until Carrie knew every freckle, every scar adorning his powerful body. He had been very patient with her, teaching her what he liked and learning what she liked. Yet Carrie remained melancholy. She still felt lonely. She missed running through the countryside. She missed ice cream. Though Seth served a mountain of food daily, she had only picked at it and only because of Tyr’s stern warnings to do so.
Carrie stopped at the wall and listened to the children playing on the other side. She heard a woman’s laughter and wondered how anyone could be happy here. She pressed her head against the twelve foot high concrete block, feeling its sun-warmed texture. Seth had been right when he had said she would be kept from the others. She had seen no one but men in this fortress. It was very well-guarded.
She kept a safe distance between herself and
those who carried machine guns. Carrie had cowered when a balding, short man had appeared and examined her thoroughly under Seth's and Tyr’s watchful eyes. He had taken blood and urine samples from her, talking to Seth of his findings over her head as though she didn’t exist. He had listened to her heart and lungs; felt her over with a practiced, careful hand.
His examination had indeed been intrusive,
embarrassingly so, more than any doctor she had ever been to. He had prescribed an inhaler for her attacks. When finished, he had captured her chin in his hand and declared her to be a good girl, as though she were but a child, and handed her a red sucker. Carrie would have felt affronted if the man had not been so patient and gentle with her. She reached for the sucker, thanking him, realizing also it had been a long while since she’d had candy; perhaps she would never taste it again.
“Feeling lonely, little one?” came a deep voice.
Carrie jumped, startled, and spun around to face Seth. She noted Tyr was not about, and she began to worry. She dropped her head, frightened, and her arms crossed protectively around her breasts. She found herself to be terrified of the large man. As she knew he would, Seth cupped her chin to raise her eyes. Her jaw trembled as she looked into his ice blue expression. The man towered over her. She was wary of the large black gun he wore strapped to his
powerful chest.
“A question was asked of you,” Seth reminded her. Carrie began to shake before him.
“Yes, I am lonely,” she whispered.
“You fear me a great deal. Is it because I was going to hit you? A small cuff would have caused no damage, nor drawn any blood.”
“No. It is because you want to own even my thoughts,” she replied, her words hushed.
“That frightens you?”
“Yes. Everything has already been stolen from me; must you possess everything?”
“Yes.”
“But why?” Carrie whimpered.
“Once you realize you completely belong to us you will no longer be afraid of losing yourself. You feel as though you are ceasing to exist. You still exist, Carrie,” Seth told her.
“I exist for a man’s pleasure,” Carrie said bitterly. “Do you not experience pleasure in Tyr’s arms?” Carrie blushed; she did indeed feel great pleasure
and security when wrapped in Tyr’s embrace. “He
cares for me. You do not.”
“Because you belong to another does not mean you won’t
be cared for when he is away. I will give you a great deal of my attention. You have much to learn,” Seth said, and as though to prove a point, he gripped her hard and kissed her.
Carrie struggled, but Seth only gripped her tighter
until his hands became brutal. Carrie stilled and whimpered, feeling defeated. Seth’s hands became gentler as Carrie stilled. The less Carrie tried to evade him the more tender he became. His kiss ended and he looked down on her.
“You will no longer struggle in a man’s arms. You will be submissive and accepting. You will never beg for a man not to take you, but you may beg his gentleness. If you are pleasing, perhaps he will listen and offer you a small mercy,” Seth commanded.
“But what if he hurts me? What if he will not
listen when I’m frightened?” Carrie sobbed.
“My men are not brutal as long as a woman is submissive. Some are more prone to become wild, but you will not suffer any lasting ill effects. None may break your bones or cause great injury. You do belong to Tyr, after all,” Seth told her.
“Will you hurt me?” Carrie asked. This was Seth’s home; she and Tyr were guests, more or less. He could do as he pleased.
“Perhaps, perhaps not,” Seth said. He once more dropped his head to claim Carrie’s lips. She stiffened at first, but remained completely submissive, as he had commanded. Seth roamed his hands over her body; she trembled when long fingers dipped lower to explore intimately. Carrie didn’t move, but moaned as his fingers delved deeper, stroking higher until she was panting. His other hand squeezed at her breasts, teasing her nipples to hardened pebbles. Seth broke