"Us?" she finally prompted.
"We are one," Behsart growled. This time, his voice sounded like many voices entwined.
The sound sent another shiver skating along her spine, but the words were almost as frightening. "They know… all that you do?"
"No. I am not as powerful as they are, but I am still strong."
She digested that for several moments, wondering if she dared pursue it. Finally, she asked, "But they know about… They must know that we…."
He leaned down until his lips were near her ear. "They smell him on your body, taste him on your skin," he growled in a gravelly voice.
Mariel’s nipples tightened almost painfully as his heated breath caressed her ear. She didn’t have to glance down to know that it must be very obvious if Behsart cared to look down. Her body burgeoned, scattering her thoughts. She swallowed. "So… you cannot touch me again because he is an enemy of the demons?"
He slipped his hand upward from her waist, flicking at the ring on one distended nipple. "When I bury this flesh deeply inside your sweet body—when I taste this tender bud," he growled, pinching her nipple between two fingers, "he feels it as I do. He enjoys your taste and your scent, the smoothness of your skin, the softness of your body. He enjoys the heat at your core, the feel of your flesh wrapped tightly around his, feeling your body shiver and convulse in pleasure. He is not allowed surcease from his torment. He is not allowed to taste our bride."
Mariel swallowed with an effort, dizzy with the heat that enveloped her at his words, entranced with the sensations flowing through the nipple he toyed with and into her belly. She fell silent, too aroused to think, unwilling to distract him in any case. After a time, he ceased to toy with the nipple ring, ceased to pluck at her nipple. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or sorry when his hand slipped down to her waist. It settled there for only a moment, however. He caught the robe, bunching it in his fist and slowly drawing it higher. When he had bared her lower body, he began to play with her clit ring and finally slipped his hand lower, pushing one finger inside of her.
A shudder went through her. She shifted, offering him better access.
He let out a harsh breath and began thrusting his finger as deeply inside of her as he could reach and then sliding it out once more. Removing the finger after a few moments, he teased her clit, then slipped his hand down and pushed his finger inside of her again.
She groaned, leaning against him and lifting her hips to meet the thrust of his finger, half fearing that he would stop before he brought her to crisis when he moved his hand upward once more. He pinched her nipples, tugging on the rings and flicking his fingers against them until he drew a moan from her throat. He slipped his hand down her belly to her clit then, teasing it for several moments before he pushed his finger inside of her again, thrusting into her quickly. A shudder went through her as she came. She groaned as his finger continued to thrust inside of her until her passage ceased to quake.
She slumped weakly against him as he withdrew his finger at last. Lifting his hand, he sucked her juices from his finger. After a moment, he slipped his hand between her legs once more, cupping her and pulling her back against the hard ridge of flesh she felt against her buttocks.
He made no attempt to touch her otherwise, but his palm remained cupped around her sex for some time before finally, almost reluctantly, he moved it up to her waist once more.
Near dusk, Mariel saw that they were approaching the mountains once more. They made camp near a pool fed by a waterfall. Mariel studied the falling water longing as she sat near the fire, eating.
"Would you like to bathe in the pool?"
She glanced at Behsart quickly. Doubt surfaced almost the moment he offered. "Is the pool deep?"
"It will not matter. I will go with you." He rose and began to discard his clothing.
After a moment, Mariel rose, as well, and pulled the robe off, following him a little nervously to the edge of the pool. Behsart waded in, halting when he discovered the chain had gone taut. He turned, studied her for a moment and finally waded back. Scooping her into his arms, he waded into the pool once.
She uttered a squeak of surprise when he set her on her feet and the cold water lapped her knees. "It’s c-c-cold."
To her surprise, he chuckled. "It is mountain water."
Mariel stared at him for several moments and finally looked away, totally bemused by the fact that he’d laughed—the demon? She didn’t think so. It was Cavan, and he was growing stronger. More and more, she heard him in the things that he said, and the way that he behaved.
Heartened, she ignored the chill of the water and waded toward the pool. The water was almost up to her breasts by the time they reached the water fall, and the chill made her breathless. She held out her hands beneath the falling water and finally moved closer, stepping beneath it and allowing it to pelt her for several moments before she stepped out again.
They had not brought either soap or cloths to wash with, but Mariel felt clean and fresh when at last they waded out once more. She shivered as the night air caressed her skin and Behsart drew her closer as he led her back to the fire. Taking one of the blankets, he wrapped it around her and urged her to sit on the bedding that he had lain out near the fire, then knelt behind her, raking his fingers through her long, dark hair until he’d removed most of the tangles and the fire had dried the dark mass.
Finally, his hands fell still. Mariel held her breath, waiting.
Clutching her hair in his fist, he tugged on it until she lifted her face to look up at him. "You are a fever in my mind. My body hungers for you until I can find no rest. Are you a sorceress?"
Mariel swallowed with an effort. "I am only a mortal woman."
Cupping the side of her face, he leaned down and opened his mouth over hers hungrily, thrusting his tongue into her mouth and exploring the exquisitely receptive flesh, sending flashes of heat through her. Mariel sighed into his mouth, stroking her tongue along his.
Breaking the kiss after only a few moments, he pushed her back against the bedding and followed her down, moving his mouth over her face, her neck, the upper slope of her breasts ravenously, as if he wanted to taste all of her at once. His breath rasped harshly from his chest.
Nuzzling her chest, he placed a kiss over her madly pounding heart and traced a path with his tongue to one nipple, teasing it with the tip of his tongue and the heat of his breath before he took the engorged tip into his mouth and sucked it. Keen pulses of heat rushed along her nerve endings to her sex, making it contract so tightly her belly ached with the tension.
Impatiently, he cupped her other breast in his hand and suckled the tip, moved down and sucked the flesh underneath it. Shifting, he nibbled a path over her ribs and down the center of her body to her belly, placing little sucking bites across the quivering flesh.
Abruptly, he shifted once more. Catching her legs, he parted them, sucking a trail of kisses along the flesh of her inner thigh. When he reached her pussy, he let out a harsh breath, parted her nether lips and opened his mouth over her hungrily.
Mariel cried out, arching up to meet him as she felt the heat of his mouth, the flick of his tongue. He finessed her tender flesh more lavishly, dragging his tongue up her cleft, flicking her clit with the tip, fastening his mouth over her and sucking until she was gasping hoarsely, her body trembling with imminent release, sucking until she began to thrash about mindlessly and finally began to jerk and shudder as her body convulsed in an explosive orgasm.
He moved over her then, propping his body on one arm as he reached between them and pushed his cock along her cleft until he reached the mouth of her sex. Thrusting the head of his cock inside of her, he hunched upward, claiming her wet channel by inches, withdrawing slightly and driving deeper each time until he had possessed her fully.
Lifting his upper body slightly away from her, he watched her face as he undulated his hips, pushing deeply inside of her, withdrawing, pressing forward again. Mariel parted her thig
hs wider, lifting up to meet him. A tremor skated up his arms and through his body. Groaning, he lowered himself fully against her, buried his face against her neck and set a more desperate rhythm. The stroke of his flesh along her sensitive passage, the urgency of his thrusts, sent heat spiraling through her once more, lifting her rapidly toward her pinnacle. As she felt his body jerk and shudder with release, her own soared over the edge once more.
Gathering himself after a moment, he slipped an arm around her and rolled onto his back, carrying her with him. When he had dragged one of her legs across his, he caught her hair and tipped her head back, kissing her without hunger, or heat, but instead with warmth and tenderness. He tucked her head against his shoulder then and sighed gustily, stroking her back. "Offer prayers to the ancient ones, my love. We need all the help we can get," he murmured.
* * * *
There was no warning, no sign that they had reached their destination until they broke from the forest. One moment Mariel lay against Behsart’s chest, half drowsing, the next she saw the Temple of Annomiz looming ahead of them.
They had traveled for three days from the Temple of Raezitath, camping the first night beside the pool, the second on the eastern slope of the mountains they had scaled, and the night before, they had stopped beside a forest stream.
Cavan had not emerged since that first night beside the waterfall. She had drifted to sleep in Cavan’s arms and woke with Behsart, who was almost as ill tempered over his lapse as he had been that he had been denied in the first place. He had taken her to the pool the following morning and told her to scrub herself, making her stand in the chilly water for nearly an hour before he was satisfied and allowed her to come out again.
His temper had mellowed very little since, but although Mariel took care not to stir it, she was inwardly pleased, for she had had Cavan with her much of a day before he vanished again—far longer than any time before.
That warmth had sustained her through the wearying travel.
It deserted her as she stared in dread at the temple they approached, the Temple of the Demon Annomiz, the stone demon, the demon of fire and ice.
Chapter Eight
The walls of the temple seemed to exude cold, but Mariel wasn’t certain if that was actually the case, or if it was fear that made her bone deep cold as she was escorted down the main corridor into the temple and prepared to receive the stone demon of fire and ice.
The name alone struck terror into her heart. Try though she might not to think about the rites at the temples of Bileezal and Raezitath, she could not keep the fearful thought from her mind that each had been worse than the last, and at each she had had to endure longer.
Her mind skittered even from the thought of pain. Except for her deflowering, she had not really known pain until she had reached the Temple of Bileezal. There, she’d been forced to endure both pure pain and pleasure that had bordered on it until her body had quivered and exploded with devastating culmination regardless.
It had been much the same at the Temple of Raezitath.
She feared it would be as bad, and possibly far worse, at the Temple of Annomiz.
When the priests had dried her, a thin chain was threaded through the rings as they had been at the temple of Raezitath.
They placed a blindfold over her eyes next, tying it tightly around her head, and then bound her arms behind her back, no doubt to prevent her from tearing the blindfold away from her eyes—something she was instantly desperate to do.
Her heart fluttered, then beat a little faster. She was so dizzy and disoriented as she was lifted and carried from the room that she began to think that she might pass out.
She prayed for it as she heard the beating drums and the chants of the priests, summoning Annomiz. She was shivering with fear and cold when they stopped. She felt cold stone beneath her feet. She swayed, but she was not released.
She was neither commanded by voice or the pressure of the hands holding her. Instead, the chain connected to the rings in her nipples and clit was yanked down on hard enough to send pain shooting through her. Her knees went weak and the two priests who held her allowed her to drop to her knees.
Her fear increased. Blinded as she was, if they would not tell her what they required, she could not know what they wanted until they snatched on the chain.
She was bound. She had no idea of how except that her thighs were spread so wide she felt as if her legs would separate from her body and even that did not seem to be wide enough to suit them for they clamped her nether lips, peeling them back until she felt cold air caressing her sensitive inner flesh.
She was lifted and carried. Her knees settled on stone once more. Something cold, hard and stiff was inserted into the mouth of her vagina and she was forced down over it. Her belly clenched as it entered her. Her heart hammered so hard she might have fallen if they had not been holding her.
The pressure on her shoulders ceased when she felt something cold against her parted nether lips, when the thing they had pushed inside of her bumped against her womb, causing it to clench and sending spasms of pain through her. She panted fearfully.
The hands holding her released her and she heard the scrape of their feet on the stone as they moved away. She swayed. The chain was jerked upward and she righted herself with an effort.
Slowly, her body adjusted to the long, cold object.
She heard the scrape of feet nearby and jerked her head instinctively toward the sound. The movement caused her to sway again and again the chain was jerked. She went still, concentrating on trying to keep her balance.
Something touched her. She jerked reflexively and again pain was the response.
She was touched again and again as they circled her. Something covered her breast, seemed to suck, but it did not have the warmth of a mouth. Nothing that touched her had the warmth of living things. It was icy, so icy that it felt like fire if it lingered on her skin for more than a few moments.
Despite the pain and fear, the continuous caresses began to produce warmth inside of her, though why she couldn’t imagine. Her body burgeoned, grew warmer. Moisture began to collect in her sex. Need grew inside of her.
The stimulus was not enough to bring her to culmination, only enough to make her begin to yearn for it as the minutes dragged into an hour.
When the touching ceased and the priests drew away, she was lifted and carried once more. Again, her knees settled on a cold stone surface. Fingers pulled at her sex and something cold and hard was pushed into her. It was bigger than the last. Despite the slippery substance that seemed to coat it, the object was hard and rigid as no human member and large enough it stretched her flesh as they forced her down onto it.
She was gasping for breath by the time they ceased to bear down on her, her belly clenching and unclenching around the unyielding thing wedged inside of her. The dance began again.
The burgeoning had vanished, however, as the cold object was forced into the throat of her sex. Again she jerked and quaked as fire and ice moved over her body, stroking her, sucking at her breasts until heat slowly invaded her again. She’d been impaled upon it so long, however, that she began to waver. The tugging of the chain became almost constant as she struggled to keep her balance, to keep from falling down upon it and forcing it any deeper inside of her. After a time, the pain became heat, sizzling along her nerves and she began to moan as pleasure numbed her mind to all else.
The fondling became more insistent, more persuasive as the minutes ticked past. She began to gasp as she felt her body tensing on the verge of release. Something covered each of her breasts, sucking determinedly until her body began to convulse and spasm around the hard shaft inside of her.
The contracting of her muscles in release had scarcely subsided when she was pulled from the shaft, carried a short distance and settled on her knees. Hands pulled at her sex. Again, something cold and hard was forced into the mouth of her sex. It was bigger around than the last and she whimpered in fear and pain as she was imp
aled on it. Her belly spasmed and clenched, resisting the intrusion. Ignoring her distress, they bore down on her inexorably until the huge thing spread her, filled her passage completely, bumping against her womb. Beneath her, she felt the lips of her sex touch the cold base of it.
She was hardly aware of the dancing and chants as she was released and left to hang upon the shaft. She panted as her body continued to fight the intrusion even after it was forced fully inside, refusing to adjust, quaking around the unyielding hardness and sending sharp pain through her belly.
They did not begin to caress her until she ceased to struggle and pant. Even when they did, her body was slow to respond. As before, the fondling became more demanding and determined, forcing her body to respond, until heat built, until she began to gasp and moan as her body struggled against the pain and iciness, and struggled toward culmination.
She screamed when she came, her body convulsing so hard and so endlessly around the rigid shaft that she felt blackness swarm around her.
She was barely conscious when they removed her from it. Dimly, she realized that hours had passed and the hope sprang that she would be allowed to rest. When they settled her on her knees once more, fear inspired her to struggle, despite the fact that her entire body felt like jelly. She cried out when she felt the enormity of the shaft they forced into the mouth of her sex, fighting them despite the sharp tugs on the chain.
It availed her nothing. She whimpered as she was forced down upon it, felt it stretching her to the point of pain and began to fear that it would rip her apart.
When she realized fighting was useless, she tried to concentrate on relaxing her muscles and accepting it. It helped, but not much. The impaling was still long, torturous, and painful. She began to feel as if her body simply could not hold it. She was weeping with pain and terror by the time they’d forced it fully inside of her. She gasped when she felt the lips of her sex meet the coldness, a tiny measure of relief washing through her when she realized she would not be forced to take more of it into her.
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