by Randi Darren
Vince shook his head with a smile. Her attitude towards his pleasure seemed broken to him, but who was he to complain.
Closing the distance between them, he kissed her tenderly and then drew his hips back.
Coming up for air, he watched her as he thrust himself back in. She mewled once, and then eagerly pushed up at him with her whole body as if to get to him quicker.
Satisfied she wasn’t in pain, Vince began to work himself back and forth through her channel. His head dipped down to sneak kisses and licks of her face and neck.
Petra’s hands trailed up and down his back as her other four legs occasionally pressed to his shoulders or hips. As if wanting him to thrust into her harder.
“Use this one. Use her for everything. Use her,” Petra murmured. “Use her. Use her. Make her moan. Break her. Fill her. Use her till she can’t stand. Dirty her. Own her.”
The rapid descent into dirty talk with her soft, charming voice was a surprise. Reaching up, he captured her wrists and then pinned them above her head with one of his hands. His other hand pressed more deeply into her side as he started to thrust into harder.
Leaning his head down, he bit down viciously into her neck, the soft flesh filing his mouth.
“Yes, yes! Use her, fill her. Make her yours. Tell her what you want. Anything. Anything. Fill her with seed!” Petra called out, not fighting him in the least, struggling to raise her hips with each thrust.
The sweet sound of her begging voice, the way she wanted to be dominated by him without a hint of a game, the way she screamed it at him made him drunk on the power of it.
This wasn’t anything like the way Meliae wanted to be broken. To be used extremely and in a humiliating way. Meliae wanted to be forced, for him to break her, to show her off in a way that would shame her.
Petra just wanted to be used. To be used for his pleasure.
Her legs settled onto his back and pushed into him wildly when he entered her.
The force of the impact of his hips started to knock the wind out of Petra, her breath coming out in groans and gasps. The clap of her flesh with each entry echoed through the trees.
“Seed me,” she begged as she gasped for breath, his hips having sped up further and pounding her into the grass.
Vince released her dark, bruising flesh and lifted his head. Then kissed her savagely, his shaft tightening as seed slammed through his member. Filling her.
Petra whimpered happily into his mouth, her legs closing tightly around his hips and pulling him in as close as possible.
At the height of each spurt, he ground himself against her, eliciting a fresh batch of whimpered moans.
As he came down from his orgasm, Petra squirmed under him, her hips pushing at him, her legs pulling at his waist still.
Surrendering her lips, he watched her from an inch or two away.
“Master cannot pull out until all his seed is claimed. Please wait to pull out. Please,” Petra pleaded with him, watching him wide blue eyes.
Vince smiled at the crazed soldier ant and laid his head own on her shoulder, releasing her wrists above her head.
As if they were made of magnets and his back iron, her arms slammed down around his shoulders, pressing him tightly to herself.
“You seeded this one. Seeded her fully.”
“Yes, I did. Damn, were you sexy about it, too.”
“This one lives to serve you, Master. Seeding her was a gift to her from you. Master need only ask for anything else. Anything. Only ask. She will do anything. Anything you want.”
Vince didn’t respond to that. Instead, he closed his eyes and snuggled his head to her shoulder. He enjoyed the warmth and comfort that she offered.
Chapter 20
“Sweetling, I missed you!”
Vince’s eyes popped open as Meliae pressed herself bodily against him. She nuzzled her head under his chin. Then she rubbed her body against his, her fingers digging into his clothes.
Vince and Petra had fallen asleep on the stream bank rather than keep traveling. Of course, that was after having their second time right there on the stream bed.
A glance at the sky told him it was early morning. The sun was barely up.
Petra was beside him, still snoring despite Meliae’s entrance.
Her clothes were rumpled but she was dressed. He knew for a fact she was missing her underwear band, though. They’d pushed her shirt up out of the way the second time and stripped the band off.
Smiling at the warm and cuddly Dryad, he wrapped his arms around her in a hug.
“Well hello there. How’d you find us? I would have thought you’d be further south than us,” Vince admitted.
Meliae scoffed, lifting her head up to meet his eyes. “As if I wouldn’t know where my tree was. I can always feel you. Always know where you are.”
“Good to know.” Vince grinned and kissed her once.
Looking up, he found Fes a few steps beyond where he lay. She had one hand pressed to her midsection, the other holding on to her mount. She looked ragged, but on the mend. A wide smile was plastered on her face as his eyes met hers. “You’re looking better, Berenga. I’m glad. I was worried for you.”
“I’m well, husband. In pain, but well. Our seed grower has tended to me expertly,” the Orc said. Her shoulders had looked stiff at first, but she seemed to droop as she spoke.
Meliae nodded her head, pressing her face into his chest. “You smell like Petra,” she murmured.
“I don’t doubt that. Alright, get up, my little nymph. I need to go hug that grumpy Orc Fes of mine,” Vince said teasingly, patting the Dryad on the back.
“Only because you called me yours,” Meliae said, freeing him. She rolled over and curled up against Petra, resting her head on the soldier ant’s shoulder.
Petra’s eyes opened, her head tilting down to find Meliae.
The Dryad gave her a grin and then whispered something to her.
Ignoring them both, Vince stood up and then walked over to Fes.
Meliae mentioned in her letter that Fes needed some attention. This would be a good opportunity for that.
Trying to stand up straight, Fes let go of the horse and held her arms open to him.
That alone was out of the ordinary for Fes. Pulling her into a tight hug, he held her. Laying his head to hers, he tenderly ran his hands up and down her back.
“You okay, Fes?” Vince whispered in her ear.
“I hurt. Our seed grower saved me from death, I’m sure of it. I think she understated how badly I was injured. She spends much energy to heal me every hour.”
Vince let out a shallow breath and hugged Fes tighter.
“She takes care of everything for me as I heal. I owe her. How can I be Fes if I can’t protect her, Petra, or you?”
“Because you gained these injuries while being Fes, Fes. No one will slight you for being wounded tending to your duty. You just need to heal now.”
“You’ve claimed Petra,” Fes said. It really wasn’t much of a question, since it did look rather obvious.
“Yeah, I did.” Vince leaned back and gave Fes a smile. “And you’re Fes.”
Fes nodded her head at that. She didn’t seem upset in any way, shape, or form at that. If anything, there was the slightest bit of relief in her eyes.
“I was angry.”
“Angry?” Vince parroted back, not quite understanding.
“When fighting the soldiers at the village. They fought like Petra. They tried to separate me from you all. So they could flank you.
“Was very angry. Everywhere, I lose ground. Meliae warmed more than your bed, and she has your seed. Petra now shares your bed. I don’t think I can join your bed in my current condition. Petra fights me to a standstill and I can’t beat her. My aim with the rifles isn’t as good as everyone else.
“I’m losing my place.” Fes’s eyes looked clouded to him. Lost.
Vince frowned at that and thought about his answer. What he’d have said to a human woman wou
ldn’t work with Berenga. She was a strong, proud Orc woman. One who didn’t need any of them and chose to be here.
Behind him, he could hear Petra and Meliae whispering back and forth. He did his best to ignore it and tune it out; he didn’t really want to listen in to what they were saying right now.
“That doesn’t sound like my Fes at all,” Vince said finally, having come to the answer he wanted to give her. “My Fes would learn from her enemies and how to beat them. My Fes would claim her place in my bed even if she could not claim me as violently as she normally would. My Fes would practice until she’s better than everyone else with the rifle. My Fes wouldn’t cower and whimper,” Vince said firmly.
Fes’s eyes were wide and locked on to his face. Her mouth hung open and her breathing stopped.
“My Fes is having a tough time right now, though. She’s trying to hold on to her beliefs, to get what she wants, and to remain who she is.
“I’m sure she’ll come to a decision once she recovers. Berenga is still my Fes, after all. Isn’t she?”
Fes’s mouth closed and her jaw muscles bunched. Her shoulders straightened and her tired dark eyes looked like they were lit from the inside with anger.
A ghost of who she had been before their journey north was coming back. The woman he’d met in the wilderness who wouldn’t bow down to anyone.
Her hands pressed into his back for a second more, then she let go of him. Her hands drifted to the front of his chest. Trailing her fingers down for a second, she then curled her fingers into his clothes. With a jerk on his clothes, she pulled him forward bodily towards herself.
Then she kissed him. Roughly, wantonly, and very much in Fes fashion.
Pulling back from him, she pressed her forehead to his. “Your seed is mine tonight,” growled the Orc warrior.
They made good time on their way back south. They made a brief stop in Salem to pick up supplies and another horse.
The time on the road was spent mostly in rest. Conversation flowed easily between the four of them.
Fes seemed as if she’d woken up. Each time they stopped, she demanded that Petra, as her subordinate, instruct her in her fighting style.
Fes couldn’t put everything to full speed, but she seemed apt in her lessons. Often, Meliae would have to halt the lesson when Fes was close to hurting herself or reopening her wounds.
The Dryad doted on Fes as if she were an older sister to her. She brooked no nonsense from her once it was clear she’d overdone it. In everything else, she submitted to Fes immediately.
The Orc warrior had also decided she need to re-stake her claim, or so it seemed to Vince. She’d claimed his bed for a week straight. It wasn’t as rough and tumble as it had been before she was injured, but it was still rather violent, all things considered.
Suffice it to say, Vince tried to go easy on her, though he did allow her to come out on top once or twice.
As if she’d re-solidified something in her own thinking, she returned him to a rotation. Petra had moved into the second night position and Meliae the third.
He didn’t question it, and didn’t really want to. Whatever they were working out between themselves didn’t need him butting in right now.
It wasn’t until they reached Sacramento that they’d stopped for longer than a night.
Sacramento had a very large Ranger guild hub, a central banking site, and one of the largest news networks available.
Which meant it was probably the best place for them to hunker down for a few days and get their bearings.
Vince was alone as he exited the Ranger guild hall. He’d relayed everything he knew to his superiors, had gotten paid for his work, with a considerable bonus, and was asked to not speak of this incident to anyone. At which point they’d paid him another bonus.
Buying my silence. No one wants it known that a Ranger guild not only fell, but fell internally.
Vince shook his head and looked around at his surroundings.
The mood had certainly changed since the last time he’d been here.
Slaves were being walked on leashes instead of being allowed to walk free. Almost on every corner, men and women were denouncing Washington for being in league with the Wastes. There was a considerable amount of fear and anger coursing throughout the streets.
On top of that, the militia forces had been called to active duty, then told to assist the police in their work.
Soldiers and anyone who could be useful in a war had been sent north.
The Empire was responding to Washington’s break with the government. The slave guild was funding a huge portion of the war as well.
Everything was going to shit.
Under his arm was the box of vouchers. He’d planned on heading to the bank after this and negotiating a transfer to standards at a loss.
Standards could be spent anywhere; the vouchers could not.
Giving himself a quick onceover, he found he looked the part of an everyday citizen. He didn’t want to stand out in case the slave guild started to ask questions about those vouchers.
With a steady pace and a wary eye, Vince made his way to the bank. He seated himself sedately in the lobby after having asked to speak with the branch manager.
The branch manager at a location like this would be a rather influential person, he was sure. It’d also be the best person to work with on this deal.
Vince surreptitiously studied the bank. Guards were in every corner, armed with rifles and fixed bayonets. On top of that, the bank employed two machine guns. They were both on raised platforms in opposite corners, enclosed except for a narrow slit they could see out of.
Security here was no joke.
A woman stepped in front of him and held out her hand to him.
“Hi there, I’m Nancy, Nancy Lu,” said the woman in clear tones. “I’m the bank manager. I believe you asked to speak with me, Mister…?”
She was an attractive woman of Asian origin. She dressed like someone in her mid-thirties, but her face and body skewed his perceived age of her.
Long black hair fell down her back and her large dark brown eyes flowed over him.
Standing up, he immediately took her hand and gave it a firm handshake.
“Name’s Smith,” Vince lied smoothly, giving her the brightest smile he could.
Her handshake was strong, her skin soft. Then Vince gently caressed her mind with his extra senses. She was a vulture, a wolf, a buzzard, a lion, a shark. Everything she was was predatory. Everything had a price in her mind, and there was no end to the lengths she would go to make money.
Raising her eyebrows at him, she gave him a warm smile. “Would you accompany me to my office?”
“Of course, Miss Lu. After you,” Vince said, releasing her hand.
“Please, call me Nancy.”
She turned and walked off towards an office door that was in line with the teller windows.
Holding the door open for him, Nancy closed it as soon as he crossed the threshold.
“What can I do for you today, Mr. Smith?” she asked.
Vince smiled at her and took a seat in front of the large wooden desk. Opening the box, he removed the vouchers and laid them down in front of her as she took her seat.
“I’m afraid I don’t quite have the confidence I used to in the Auction House. What with the war and all. I’d like to convert these to standards.”
Nancy picked up one of the vouchers. She tapped a long finger against one of the seals and flipped it over to look at the back.
“These appear authentic. Would you mind if I had someone inspect them?”
“Be my guest. I was hoping to get ninety-five percent of their value in standards. The remainder being a service fee of sorts.”
Nancy thumbed a button on a small plastic square in front of her. “Could you please have Andy come in here? I need him to authenticate a voucher.”
“Right away, ma’am,” replied someone on the other end.
“Well, Mr. Smith, I can certainly
agree to cash these out for standards. We deal with the guild for many services and often.
“I’m not sure I could do it at ninety-five, though.”
She gave him an underwear-melting smile and leaned forward over her desk. While she was dressed modestly, her movement had revealed some cleavage. Belatedly, he realized she had a body similar to Meliae’s.
And there’s where it starts. The beautiful bank manager who gets a better cut because she uses her advantages.
“I’m willing to negotiate. Many things have a price you wouldn’t normally think to offer,” Vince replied with a grin.
In this case, he was the one with an upper hand. There were other banks he could go to. He also had a small harem that took care of his appetites.
At that moment, a knock came at the office door. Nancy sat back in her desk. “Come!”
A soldier walked in, dressed out in dark brown fatigues with a helmet covering his head.
“Ah, Andy, good. Here, please check this to confirm it’s authentic,” Nancy said, holding out the voucher she’d been handling.
The man, who looked as ordinary as dirt, took the paper from her. Ten seconds of intense scrutiny later, he handed it back to her.
“Authentic.” Without waiting to be dismissed, the man known as Andy walked back out the door and was gone. As the door closed behind him, Vince finally noticed the slave collar around the man’s neck.
Nancy huffed at the rude departure and put the voucher back into the pile. “His work is excellent, but his manners are awful.”
The bank manager tapped a finger onto the vouchers in thought. Then she picked up the stack and began counting them.
“There’s eighty there. All at ten thousand marks.”
Nancy nodded her head but kept counting. When she was done, she realigned the stack and looked at him again. Putting her chin in one hand, supporting it with her elbow on the desk, she smiled at him.
“You mentioned things that didn’t normally have a price. What’d you have in mind?” Her eyes had an inviting look to him that he was sure she’d practiced for hours.