Snow and the Seven Huntsmen: A Dark Reverse Harem Romance (Dark Fantasy Book 1)

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Snow and the Seven Huntsmen: A Dark Reverse Harem Romance (Dark Fantasy Book 1) Page 2

by Zoe Blake


  “You shredded them up pretty badly,” Tore mumbled as he held my foot in his large hand, twisting and turning it so he could get a closer look. “I’m going to need to clean the wounds and remove all the slivers.”

  Maybe it was because the adrenaline was wearing off, or because Tore was actually touching my wounds, but the stinging intensified, and a dull throb emerged from the balls of my feet. I didn’t want to look to see how bad they were for myself, but the growing pain told me that I had indeed shredded them up with my fleeing barefoot through the woods.

  A huntsman whose name I had yet to hear walked up behind Tore and bent at the waist placing his hands above his knees to study my feet. “You better clean those up really good. I’ll get you some hot water and a rag,” he said as he looked at me with the same severe disapproval that Tore had given me. Luckily, I didn’t have to endure his silent lecture for long because he walked over to a large pot of water that had just been brought in by Jerrik—who also glared at me with anger—and hung it above the now roaring fire to heat up.

  Tore reached for my other foot and began pulling out the larger pieces of wood and glass that were embedded into my flesh with his fingers. For such a large man, and for someone who exuded anything but softness, he did have a gentle touch as he did so. He took great care in removing each piece with slow precision. I tried to remain as still as I could, even though I had to hiss under my breath as the sting almost became too much to bear as he did so.

  “I’m sure this hurts,” Tore said as he continued pulling out each invading shard of debris. For a moment, I thought I saw kindness on his stern features, but it was near impossible to read this beast of a man. He both terrified me and fascinated me at the same time. My foot looked so tiny in his hands, and I knew he could snap it in two without the least bit of effort if he truly wanted to. Yet, he handled my feet like they were one of his finest possessions, careful to never be too harsh in his movements.

  I bit my lip, but refused to admit my discomfort. I always considered myself a smart woman, and running barefoot through the woods with huntsmen on horseback behind me had been far from smart. So, if having to endure in silence the removal of the forest’s floor from my feet was my penance, so be it. But as agonizing minute after minute went by, I found it more and more difficult to remain still as Tore concentrated on removing every last sliver.

  “Stay still,” he said as he tightened his hold on my foot.

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath as I tried to do as he commanded. I eventually opened them to see the man return with a bowl of hot water and a gray rag. The thought of having soothing water offer some relief to the burn on my feet kept me from finally breaking down and crying out for mercy.

  “We could practically start a fire with all that kindling being removed from your feet,” he said with a chuckle.

  Tore looked up from his work for the first time and gave the man a smile. “Very funny, you dope. Can you be of some use and fetch me that salve of mine from the cabinet over there?” He pointed to a cabinet quickly, but then refocused his attention back on my feet. “It looks like I got all the splinters out. Now we just need to clean them up so we don’t risk infection.”

  “Thank you for being so kind,” I said softly.

  “Do not mistake me as a kind man,” Tore growled. “I tended to your injury to prevent your blood from being poisoned and you becoming ill. You are no good to any of us if you are too sick to be of any use.”

  I swallowed hard. Any hope of kindness from this man vanished as the heat of his gaze boring into me sent a deep and ominous chill through my body.

  “Gentlemen,” he said as he glanced away from me to look at the rest of the huntsmen in the main room. “Since I spent all this time fixing our broken bird who tried to fly away, I think it is only fair that I get the first turn at breaking her once again.”

  My heart stopped as bile built in the back of my throat. I glanced around the room as panic grew with every nod of approval from the other men. What were they agreeing to? What did Tore mean when he said he wanted to break me once again?

  “That seems fair,” another offered as he sat down with a large cup of ale in his hand, propping his mud-covered boots up on the wooden table. “We will all have a turn soon enough. I can be a patient man. I always believe that patience leads to happiness eventually.”

  “Just don’t be the first to claim every part of her,” Dagr said as he, too, sat down with his own ale. “Save some of her for the rest of us, and you know what part of the princess is mine.”

  I couldn’t have protested even if I’d wanted to. Fear took hold of my body and squeezed tightly around my neck. Breath was stolen from my trembling frame as Tore effortlessly swooped me up into his arms. Being carried to his room was like being caught in a raging windstorm. Air whipped past my wayward hair, and my heart beat harder than ever next to his as he held me close—too close. I didn’t have the time to take in my surroundings because all I could focus on was the large chest belonging to this beast of a man cloaked in thick leather.

  Entering a smaller and sparsely furnished room, he stood me near the edge of his bed. “Remove your night dress,” Tore said as if his command was as normal as any other spoken word.

  I took a step back as my heart clenched. “Please…I’m…pure.” I didn’t want to beg, to plead, or cry for mercy since deep down I felt my doing so would only fuel the savage within these men even more.

  “I would hope so,” he said with a spark of humor in his eye. “Your purity is going to make this even more delicious for me.”

  I took another step back, only succeeding in bumping the back of my legs against the mattress.

  “Remove your night dress, my broken bird.” He took one step closer—the predator preparing to strike his wounded prey. He took another step. “You can make this harder than it needs to be, but the only one who will enjoy that amount of struggle would be me. So I suggest you do as I ask.”

  I could see it. Feel it. There would be no mercy. There would be no kindness in this man. He had used up every last bit of decency inside of him mending my damaged feet.

  I glanced toward the closed bedroom door, wondering if I had even the slightest chance of escape. But even if I somehow got around Tore’s brute strength, there would be six other huntsmen waiting to have their own turns with me.

  “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he growled as he closed the distance between us. Before I could comprehend fully what was happening, Tore took hold of the thin material of my nightgown and ripped it right down the middle.

  I tried to hold onto the pieces of fabric that barely clung to my body to preserve whatever modesty I could, but it was useless. My breasts were on full display, my sex bare before my captor, and every ounce of dignity shredded from my trembling frame.

  “Ah yes, my little bird. I can see you are quite pure. Like the finest gem.” He took hold of the remaining pieces of the night dress I still held between my fingertips. “A gem I plan to mar.”

  The sob I had somehow been holding in up until now finally escaped. I knew what was going to happen, and I also knew there was nothing I could do to stop it—Tore—from happening.

  He placed his finger across my mouth, his skin rough against my quivering lips. “Shh, my bird. You don’t need to cry. I promise you that you will love it. Maybe not every single moment of it, but you will eventually love it.”

  Shaking my head, I said, “No. No, I won’t. Please.”

  Replacing his finger with his lips, Tore kissed me. My first kiss. The first kiss that I had sat locked away in my prison of misery fantasizing about. The dream of my childhood finally came to fruition as this man pressed his lips to mine. This was not the Prince Charming I had pictured, or even the young man stealing a quick peck behind the stable as I had often wished for. No. Not Tore. Not this man.

  This man was a savage, an animal, a true huntsman who feeds off the wild.

  But I was far worse than any of the beasts in thi
s house.

  For one reason alone.

  I liked the kiss—God help me, I did, and I craved for more. The simple touch awoke a sensation from my deepest core. A tingle shot through me as I inhaled his essence and hungered for more. Desire sizzled in parts of my being I hadn’t known existed before this very minute as Tore pushed his tongue past my partly opened lips to dance with mine.

  How could I be so sinful? How could I lust after a man I barely knew? How could a simple kiss pull such powerful feelings from me?

  I stood naked before a man who now ran his fingertips down my spine as he pulled me closer into a deeper kiss. His possession of my mouth was gentle, not aggressive as I had imagined it would be when he had first approached me. He was allowing me to taste him. To savor him. To appreciate and truly take in my very first kiss. No matter what was to come, this man gave me the gift of finding pleasure and joy in a first experience that I would never forget. As the kiss continued, my body hummed and lit from the inside. All the darkness of my life before this very moment seemed to vanish with the rays of light exuding from this one simple kiss. And, as though a storm was brewing in the distance, I knew the gentle touch of our lips would soon escalate, so I took this time to simply find joy.

  Not wasting a moment, Tore removed his clothes as if disrobing in front of me was completely normal. As he stood nude before me, I averted my eyes so as not to invade his privacy in viewing his indecency.

  “Look at me,” he ordered.

  I refused.

  “I said, look at me.”

  This time, I did as he asked, and glanced his way, making certain to stare directly in his eyes and nowhere else.

  “Lower. Look lower.”

  I swallowed hard, feeling as if his words had taken hold of my neck and squeezed.

  “Yes, look lower,” he said again. “Look at my cock.”

  Cock. Such foul language. Such scandalous demands.

  I was pure.

  Pure.

  Why could Tore not see this for himself?

  Though defying the man, and what he would do if I upset him, scared me more than staring at his cock.

  As my heavy-lidded eyes took in the large member, hard and ready before me, Tore said, “I’m going to put that in you tonight. You know this, correct?”

  My lip trembled, but I nodded. There was no sense in fighting the inevitable. My fate had been sealed the minute the huntsmen stole me away.

  Without waiting another second, Tore pushed me back onto the bed and ran circles along the heated flesh of the curve of my belly, dipping his hand lower between my legs. His fingers ran along my silky folds, spreading the wetness encountered all over my cunny. Humiliation washed over me and I tensed, attempting to clamp my legs together to conceal my arousal.

  What must he think of me? What kind of woman allows the demon of lust to come so easily?

  He removed his hand from between my clenched thighs and spanked the top of my mons. “Do not try to hide from me.” He dipped his finger back to my soaking sex when I spread my legs in surprise from the quick slap. “It pleases me to see that my touch has this effect on you.” He moved his finger to my little pearl and caressed it ever so gently.

  I bucked up, surprised by such a powerful sensation.

  The hunger in his eyes practically changed his appearance. He seemed predatory; so different than the man who’d tended to my feet only a short time ago.

  Heat radiated over my body, the crux between my legs throbbing in need. No matter how much I tried to resist, I couldn’t fight the sensations of desire. The feeling of his hand on my most private of parts was most indecent, yet so tantalizing. Taking a moment to breathe deeply and try to gain some control of my licentious body, I waited in anticipation of what I already knew would come.

  Tore spread my legs wide, watching the seam of my womanhood open for him. My tiny hole had never before been entered, but Tore maintained control and went slowly. Running his finger along each side of my delicate petals, he soaked up my juices with his fingertip, coating the opening to my entrance nice and well. With as much care as he could, he pressed his wet finger past my opening and eased his way in.

  I gasped and tensed, but then relaxed when Tore slowly began to move his finger in and out of my tight channel. He leaned down and kissed my thatch of little black curls, inhaling the musky scent of my out of control desire.

  “Relax, my little bird,” he coaxed as his finger glided in and out. “I need to get this sweet cunt of yours ready for me. I’m not a small man, and I don’t want to hurt you…too much.”

  When my legs relaxed back open and my hips thrust up to meet his mouth, silently begging for more of his kisses, he whispered, “That’s my good girl. Let me prepare you to become mine in all ways.”

  His tongue flicked my sensitive nub, nipping it between his lips. My hands ran up both sides of his head, driving his face into the most forbidden part of my body as my moans intensified.

  “Tore…Tore? This feeling. I feel…” Panic laced my words. I didn’t know what to think about the sensations flooding in. I had never…I had never… “Tore!”

  My head thrashed side to side, and my breathing became ragged.

  “Come for me, Snow. Fill my mouth with your sweet cream. Release.”

  My hips bucked as my moan turned into a tiny scream. My cunny quivered around his mouth, and I knew the taste of my release coated his tongue. He lapped up every last bit of my completion as my body shook on the tail end of my climax.

  As if not wanting my body to fully become sated, Tore moved up to my breasts and began to circle his tongue around one nipple, and then moved to pay the same attention to the other. He molded the flesh of my firm and perky mounds with his hands.

  Stretching up, he placed his lips at the shell of my ear and whispered, “I’m going to put my cock inside of you now. It will hurt a little, but I will try to make it as easy as possible.”

  Placing the head of his cock at my entrance, he slowly eased in. I knew this was the time where he fully claimed me. “Take a deep breath and relax,” he ordered as he pushed firmly against my opening, spreading me wide as I cried out when a pop occurred deep within my core. “Shhh…” he cooed as he paused for a moment so I could adjust to his girth.

  After a few moments, he launched a steady rhythm of pushing in and out, while placing soft kisses along the side of my neck. In a steady staccato, his cock pulled out just enough to spread my opening, and then plummeted back inside so deep I could feel his cock push up against where the inside of my heated sex ended. In and out, he claimed me. In and out, I gave myself to him.

  The huntsman.

  Tore smiled as he pressed his lips to mine. “Good. Very, very good.”

  He positioned his body so he was driving his hardness into my pulsating pussy before my climax was over. His thrusting continued the frenzy. Driving the orgasm to a new level, Tore claimed me with a fervor like nothing I could have envisioned. My body melted into his. My core clung to his wanton energy. Plunging deeper, Tore’s hardened length stretched my tight cunny to the maximum. My sex stung, my body ached, but euphoria conquered all.

  Tore flipped me over onto my stomach in one fluid motion. He pulled my hips up so I was positioned on all fours. His roughened palm pressed between my shoulder blades, causing my upper body to rest against the bed. My bare buttocks were now up and angled in full display

  “The most beautiful sight I have ever seen,” he praised. “You are far more than just a broken bird.”

  The sexual beast inside was breaking through my body, smothering any control that remained. I wanted Tore back inside of me. I wanted it hard, I wanted it rough, and I wanted Tore to continue to take my body with uncontrolled abandon.

  He grabbed my hip with one hand and a handful of hair with the other. His cock impaled me with a force that made me scream. He pulled my hair back as he drove in and out with a carnal need. Releasing the grip of my hip, he spanked my bottom. Not like a punishment but a spank of pu
re erotic pleasure. He continued to spank while driving his hardness deep within.

  “Listen to me well, broken bird. Never disobey any of the huntsmen, or you will get far worse than what I am doing here. You are to be submissive, obedient, and compliant in all the ways we ask.” Tore continued the stinging slaps against my burning behind. I gasped with each reminding blow. “Some of my fellow huntsmen are not forgiving or tolerant men. Remember this warning.”

  I arched my back further. The electricity from the spanking only enhanced the approaching orgasm returning to my body. “Yes, sir.”

  He grabbed both of my hips with his hands as he pushed and pulled his cock within my warm depths. His breathing sped, his moans increased. I screamed as the orgasm rocked through my body with more force than before. Tore thrust as deeply as possible as he called out my name while spilling his seed into my awaiting womb.

  Four

  I awoke to the sound of laughter.

  After a lifetime spent waking to cold, unfeeling silence, it felt strangely comforting. Pulling the heavy quilt over my shoulder, I curled up onto my side, closed my eyes and listened.

  The harsh clang of metal. The scrape of a fork on a plate. Muffled conversation. The heavy thump of footsteps.

  Life. Humanity.

  Burying my face in the blankets, I hid a smile. It was ludicrous really. These were common sounds in kitchens across the land and yet, they swept over me like music. After being shackled with only my own meager thoughts for company, day after day, month after month, year after year, the break from isolation was thrilling. How odd that these quaint sounds of domesticity should come from these large, beastly men—my abductors. Yet, by stealing my freedom, they were setting me free. Free from a crushing solitude.

  As I laid secure in my cocoon, I heard my name. Sitting up, I strained to hear. Was it Tore? Would he relate to his fellow huntsmen my humiliation? How despite my struggle, my body betrayed me in the end? Would he regale them with the story of my cries and moans? How I spread my legs and practically begged him to hurt me more? My cheeks burned at the thought. Reaching between my legs, I cupped my cunny, the soreness another reminder of his brutal taking of my maidenhood and my shameless response.

 

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