Savage Surrender

by Deanna Ashford

  ‘Wilful whore,’ Gerek said harshly as he pulled her towards him, lifting her body atop his.

  Jenna eased her hips downwards until the tip of Gerek’s penis slid into the opening of her honey pot. She then slowly sheathed herself on his sex, pushing down until he filled her completely and the head of his cock nudged the neck of her womb. Jenna sighed contentedly as his body stretched and filled her secret flesh.

  The wooden frame of the bed creaked as Jenna lifted her hips until almost the entire length of his slick shaft was revealed, then she plunged her body down again, grinding her pelvis against his.

  Gerek groaned and dug his fingers harder into the soft flesh of Jenna’s waist as he felt her vagina tighten. She began to wildly pump herself up and down on his phallus in a frenzied dance of seduction. Soon her face was flushed, and her body wet with perspiration. At each thrust, she rotated her hips and arched her back. Gerek found the contrast in pressure highly erotic as his cock followed the movements of her silken sheath.

  The musky odour of her pleasure filled Gerek’s nostrils. He inhaled the sharp scent, his fingers straying towards the crack in her bottom. With each welcoming movement he pulled the fleshy globes further apart, the rough pads of his fingertips grazing her sensitive inner flesh.

  Jenna’s excitement increased. Her body jerked, and her breasts bounced up and down in front of his eyes. Juices flowed from her vagina, generously coating Gerek’s phallus, and contributing to the soft sucking sounds of flesh upon flesh. She ground her pelvis against Gerek’s, lifting herself to repeat the frenzied movement again and again.

  Lost in his own haze of pleasure, Gerek was barely aware that his thumbs were pulling at the ring of skin that guarded Jenna’s bottom mouth. The tip of one ragged nail scraped the sensitive barrier, making Jenna gasp with wanton bliss. Her vagina throbbed, milking Gerek’s engorged shaft. He lost control completely, his cock pulsing as the seed surged from his body. Pleasure came to them both in wave upon wave, taking them over the summit and into the chasm of ecstasy.

  Rianna lay on her back, looking up at the sky. When she was younger she had spent hours staring at the clouds, seeing in them the shapes of dragons and other mythical creatures. But she was in no mood for such flights of fancy today.

  After Lesand left, she had not allowed herself to spend time wallowing in misery. Instead, she’d changed into the breeches and jerkin she always wore for riding, and run straight to the stables where Joab had Freya waiting for her. She had ridden to this clearing in the woods at the base of the hill on which the castle of Nort stood. Just behind her was a small wooden hut which her father had built with his own hands. Gerek and Kitara had come here when they wanted to get away from the pressure of royal life. Now it was derelict and abandoned, and only Rianna came to this secret place.

  Masses of bluebells carpeted the leafy glade, filling the air with the smell of spring. Rianna sighed – she would miss the contrasting seasons they had in Harn. Percheron lay in the far south and it was warm all the year round.

  When she first met Chancellor Lesand, he had told her of the luxurious life that awaited her in Percheron. The castle of Nort was tiny compared to Lord Sarin’s marble palace, with its miles of corridors and hundreds of elaborately decorated, high-ceilinged rooms.

  And what of her bridegroom, Lord Sarin? She reached into the pocket of her jerkin to pull out the miniature Chancellor Lesand had given her. It was oval in shape, a little bigger than a hen’s egg, and surrounded by a gold frame studded with precious stones. She stared at the portrait, trying to seek out the true measure of her future husband. He was undeniably handsome, with striking, rather angular features, olive skin, jet black hair, and dark piercing eyes. There was a coldness to the set of his thin-lipped mouth that she found oddly compelling, but also a little unnerving. Soon she would share a bed with this man, and be obliged to submit to his sexual demands.

  Yesterday, Veba, her elderly nurse, had spoken at some length about the duties of a wife. Rianna had listened carefully, finding it strange that Veba had mentioned nothing about the physical side of marriage. Rianna was not a total innocent, she had watched stallions mate with mares. It had always seemed reasonable to conclude that a coupling between a man and a woman was much the same – a hasty, rather uncomfortable event that had to be endured. But since the humiliating examination by Chancellor Lesand, Rianna had been forced to reassess her opinions. When Lesand touched her secret feminine parts, Rianna had found the experience surprisingly pleasurable. The contact aroused strange desires and filled her head with visions she did not yet understand. She found herself looking at Joab in a different light when she spoke to him in the stables a short while ago. Never before had she realised how attractive he was, how broad his shoulders were, and how tightly his breeches clung to his sturdy thighs. She noticed that the bulge at his crotch was enticingly large, and for a moment she paused to wonder what he would look like unclothed.

  Even riding here on Freya felt different. The smooth movements of the mare, and the feel of the hard saddle pressing against her sex had rekindled the strange heat in her groin. Perhaps lovemaking with her husband would turn out to be a most pleasurable experience.

  Rianna shivered and turned on to her stomach, still staring at the portrait of Sarin. Her breasts felt fuller and heavier than before, and she was left wanting, craving the feel of hard male hands caressing her body. She wished she was more knowledgeable about what went on in the marriage bed. If only her mother was here to advise her, life would be so much simpler and far less daunting.

  Chapter Two

  LEAVING THE NOISE and warmth of the great hall behind him, Gerek stepped into the wide, rather chilly, passage that led to his private quarters. He was angry; the evening meal had been an uncomfortable experience, mainly because Rianna had barely spoken and had totally ignored Chancellor Lesand.

  As soon as the meal ended, Rianna excused herself, claiming she was weary and intended to retire to her bed. Once she had departed, Gerek apologised profusely for his daughter’s unseemly behaviour. However, Chancellor Lesand insisted the apology was unnecessary, saying he could understand that Lady Rianna was upset and embarrassed by the undignified examination she had been forced to endure. Nevertheless, that did not make Gerek feel any better; in many ways Rianna was far too wilful for her own good.

  The corridor bore left, following the line of the castle walls. One of the wall lanterns lighting the way had gone out, leaving the corridor just ahead of Gerek in almost total darkness. He frowned, irritated by the servants’ neglect; one man was assigned just to keep the corridor lanterns alight.

  Suddenly he saw a movement in the shadows. His hand flew to his dagger. ‘Who goes there?’ he asked harshly.

  ‘It is I.’ A figure stepped from the darkness.

  ‘Jenna!’ Gerek exclaimed. ‘What are you doing here? You should be with the Lady Rianna, helping her prepare for her journey to Percheron.’

  ‘She dismissed me. The noble lady has no more need of my services this evening.’

  Jenna moved closer to Gerek. Her face looked pale in the flickering light of the distant lanterns. She was wearing a dark, hooded cloak. Gerek frowned; it was odd to see her dressed in such a manner. Only in the depths of winter was it necessary to wear such garments indoors. It was a chilly night, but not that cold.

  ‘Then you best retire to your bed with the other maidservants,’ Gerek said curtly. ‘I am in no mood for company tonight.’

  ‘Perchance you are in the mood for this!’ She pulled apart her cloak, beneath which she was totally naked.

  ‘Ye gods!’ Gerek exclaimed.

  ‘Do you not like what you see?’ Jenna asked, letting the cloak fall to the stone-flagged floor.

  Gerek stared at Jenna in astonishment as she ran her hands over her lush curves, lewdly outlining her breasts before trailing her fingers downwards to stroke the soft brown curls at her pubis. ‘You forget yourself, wench.’

  Gerek disapproved of her forward
behaviour, yet he could not tear his gaze from her body. His belly tightened as he admired her pale body, the most intimate parts of it half-hidden by dark beguiling shadows of the night.

  ‘Forget myself,’ Jenna repeated. Smiling, she lifted her hands to cup her full breasts, holding them out to him. The nipples were firm, teased to a point by the chill night air. ‘Do you not find the sight of these pleasurable?’

  Gerek didn’t know whether to admonish her or throw her to the floor and take her with unbridled lust. Her actions tonight reminded him of Kitara. In times long past, when he and his wife had met in some secluded area of the castle, they had often taken the opportunity to slake their desire for each other, their coupling made even more exciting because a servant or man-at-arms could come upon them at any moment.

  ‘What foolishness is this?’ he asked, his voice husky with restrained passion.

  ‘Foolish I may be, lord.’ She gave a soft laugh. ‘But you still desire me, and I you.’ Opening her thighs, she boldly stroked her sex. ‘See how moist my pudenda is already. I long to feel your magnificent cock thrusting deep inside me.’

  Gerek grabbed hold of her and pushed her against the stone wall of the corridor. ‘I am the master here,’ he growled. ‘I decide when and where I take you.’

  ‘Then decide,’ she challenged with surprising boldness. Pressing her hand on the fustian covering his groin, she felt the hardness of the engorged rod that lay against his belly. ‘Whatever you say, you cannot deny that you want me.’

  ‘My anger is aroused, not my lust,’ he grated.

  ‘They seem much the same to me.’ She grasped him harder, moving the rough fabric so that it grazed his sensitive male flesh.

  Gerek groaned, and grabbed hold of her breasts, roughly massaging the creamy globes. She gasped with painful pleasure as he cruelly squeezed her nipples.

  ‘Take me,’ she pleaded.

  Gerek cursed under his breath, staring at her with cold dark eyes. ‘You try my patience, Jenna.’

  ‘Do anything you want to me, master.’ She winced but did not complain as he pinched her nipples even harder.

  ‘Anything?’ He slapped the undersides of her breasts. ‘Even chastise you?’

  ‘If you desire it.’ He slapped her breasts again and she shivered, revelling in the spiked pleasure.

  Gerek knew that he should tell her to be gone, order her back to the maids’ quarters, but his desire was aroused. His penis throbbed, jumping in anticipation as he envisaged taking her here and now. The fiery heat in his loins would not be easily extinguished. If he dismissed her now he would not rest easy tonight.

  He pressed his body hard against hers. The metal studs of his doublet scratched her breasts, and the rough stones of the wall dug into her naked back. Gerek ground his engorged groin against her belly, forcing her buttock cheeks apart, allowing the rough stone wall to chafe her sensitive inner flesh. Jenna appeared to welcome the discomfort as she squirmed excitedly against Gerek.

  ‘My body bums for you, Protector,’ she moaned.

  A pool of oily lust speared Gerek’s belly. ‘Greedy whore,’ he muttered.

  Capturing her mouth, he kissed her with desperate urgency, and boldly, she responded. Their tongues entwined and began to move in an erotic dance of mutual passion.

  Pulling back a little, Gerek slid his hand between their bodies, seeking the fastening of his breeches. His cock was iron hard, and in his eagerness he snapped the cords holding the fustian together. The fabric parted and his engorged penis reared out of the opening.

  ‘Never have I seen one so huge,’ she whispered hungrily.

  ‘Are you well versed in such matters?’ Gerek grated. The stones of the wall grazed the back of his hands as he cupped her buttocks and parted her fleshy globes. Roughly, he pressed his index finger against her nether mouth, invading the ring of tight muscle.

  ‘Oh, yes.’ Jenna shivered. ‘Push it deeper,’ she begged.

  As he pushed his finger deeper inside her, she grabbed hold of his member, curving her fingers around the rigid shaft. ‘Wanton bitch,’ he grunted.

  She gave a soft laugh, and rubbed her hand up and down Gerek’s cock, until he felt as if it might explode. Unable to wait any longer, he eased his finger from her anus. Planting his feet slightly apart, he braced himself. Then, with his large hands cupping her buttocks, he lifted her.

  The head of his erect phallus beat urgently against the brown thatch of her maidenhair. Grabbing hold of his shoulders, Jenna lifted herself just a fraction higher and his penis slipped easily between her thighs. Gerek dug his fingers into her buttocks, as he jerked his pelvis forward, entering her with one deft stroke. She twined her legs around his hips, eager to increase the depth of his penetration. Immediately he thrust harder, jamming his pelvis against hers until his cock head nudged the neck of her womb.

  Jenna’s hot moist flesh clung to his shaft, desperate to suck the very life essence from Gerek’s body as he thrust into her again and again. She gasped with pleasure as his movements became fiercer. Gerek pushed her back hard against the stone wall, his weight driving almost all the breath from her body. Overcome by her mounting bliss, she was oblivious to the cold air brushing her flesh and the sharp stones digging into her skin.

  With one final thrust Gerek climaxed, the pulsing pleasure draining him completely. The strong sensations died away, leaving him weak and near helpless. He leant limply against her, his legs trembling slightly.

  ‘Lord,’ she whispered. ‘Did I please you?’

  Gerek did not reply. Straightening, he took a deep breath, then lowered her to the floor. ‘Be off to your quarters, wench.’

  ‘But, my lord . . .’ Jenna put her hand on his arm. ‘I am not yet finished. A few moments more of your attention is all I need.’

  Roughly, Gerek pushed her away, and began to ease his flaccid penis back into his breeches. ‘That is not my concern. I took you for my pleasure, not yours.’

  Jenna touched her hot, swollen sex. ‘Please,’ she whimpered. ‘Do not dismiss me like this. My body screams for the touch of your hand.’

  ‘Then that will be the punishment I promised you, Jenna,’ he replied coldly.

  Tears of frustration filled her eyes. ‘I know I was wrong, but I only wanted to please you, lord. Don’t leave me unfulfilled.’

  ‘If you are that desperate, then I suggest you go to the guard room. Tell them I sent you. Any one of my men-at-arms will be happy to pleasure you until you beg for mercy.’ Gerek said cruelly, wanting to impress upon Jenna that she should never act in so forward a manner again. Turning away from her, he strode along the corridor towards his private quarters.

  ‘This journey seems endless,’ Rianna grumbled as she stared out of the window of her conveyance. All she could see was mile upon mile of flat uninteresting grassland stretched out either side of the road.

  They’d left the castle of Nort almost five days ago, and for the last two days they’d been traversing the southern plains of Harn, which were virtually uninhabited as the soil was unsuitable for cultivating crops.

  To ensure Rianna’s comfort on the long journey to Percheron, Lord Sarin had arranged for a special conveyance to be constructed. A tiny house had been built atop a flat bedded wagon, containing both travelling and sleeping quarters for his bride. The house was a little cramped but luxuriously appointed, with a bed for Rianna, a folding bed for her maid, and padded benches to sit upon while on the road.

  ‘We have many days of travel ahead of us, my lady,’ Jenna said in a suspiciously sulky tone.

  Veba had fallen ill just before their departure and was deemed too unwell to travel. Gerek had asked Jenna to travel in Veba’s place. In the normal course of events Jenna would have been honoured to become the Lady Rianna’s personal maid, but she had made it clear she had no wish to leave Gerek. Angered by her pleading words, Gerek had bluntly ordered Jenna to accompany Rianna, insisting that there was no one else he could trust to care for his daughter.

  ‘Fa
r too many, Jenna.’ Rianna peered out of the window, curious to know why her conveyance had come to an unexpected halt. ‘I wonder why we’ve stopped. It is too early for the noonday meal.’

  ‘Doubtless we’ll be moving again soon,’ Jenna replied distractedly.

  ‘I will have no more of this.’ Jumping to her feet, Rianna moved to the rear of their wagon. ‘I will ride for a while. It will be good to have some fresh air, as I am unused to being so confined.’

  Pushing open the door, Rianna sprang on to the rough road, which was little more than a track of hard-packed earth. She soon spied the reason for their unexpected stop: behind her conveyance was a wagon piled high with baggage; some of the contents had worked loose, and servants were clustered around the wagon trying to secure the load.

  ‘My lady, is something amiss?’ A sallow-faced youth, one of the servants from Percheron assigned to wait upon her, approached and bowed respectfully.

  ‘Have my horse saddled. I wish to ride for a while.’

  ‘Chancellor Lesand has not issued orders allowing you to ride, Lady Rianna. It would be safer for you to remain inside your wagon,’ the youth stuttered.

  Rianna frowned and tapped her foot impatiently. ‘Do you dare to question my orders?’

  ‘No, my lady.’ He bowed again and added ingratiatingly, ‘I will have your horse saddled immediately.’

  As he left to do her bidding, Rianna took a deep breath and looked around her. The day was warm, with a slight breeze moving the sweet-scented air. The grass was a lush green, spreading as far as she could see, but in the far distance she could see a range of mountains, their high peaks reaching up to the clear blue sky.

  She thought of her father, as she had often these past few days. She missed him desperately. Her unhappy musings were interrupted by a familiar whinny. Glancing in the direction of the sound, she saw the servant leading Freya towards her. The mare seemed restive; she had not been ridden since the day before they had left the Castle of Nort. Freya wore one of Rianna’s favourite gifts from Sarin, a saddle and reins of tooled red leather, liberally decorated with gold.