Tangles and Temptation

by India-Jean Louwe

  Kyra hissed from her position in the tub, “And be your memory fond or not remains to be seen.”

  Eris pushed away from the door and strode around the tub. The water was not deep enough to cover her breasts, and her nipples stood proud and erect, attesting either to the cold or arousal. Clarisse continued to hold her hair away from the tub edge and ran a brush over her drying hair. Eris stared at her face. Unobstructed by her hair, her face was clear, soft—beguiling. He cocked his head to the side and admired her delicately darkened nipples. They puckered deliciously under his perusal. He whispered, “The image has already lodged itself within the ‘fond memories’ category, and definitely unforgettable.”

  Kyra grimaced. “Enjoy all you will as there is little I can do at present.”

  It took Eris a moment to recognize the strain in her voice. His brows drew together in consternation. “What is the matter, Kyra?”

  Kyra lowered her head and mumbled. Eris leaned forward, straining to catch her words. Not getting a single word, he inquired, “In order to hear you, I would have to dive right in there with you.”

  Kyra’s head came up with a snap. Her eyes shot sparks of annoyance at him. “I left the tub not, because I could not.”

  Eris drew back at her furious shout. He assessed her closely. What appeared visible to his eyes remained perfectly formed and more importantly appeared in perfect functioning order. The cause of her disgruntlement must then lie obstructed from his view, beneath the surface of the water. His features lightened, and a broad smile lit his face. He clicked his finger loudly and addressed the lingering serf. “Leave us.”

  Clarisse sprang up and darted into the adjoining room, banging the door in her haste. Kyra scowled at him. “Need you be so harsh? Clarisse is but a slip of a girl.”

  Eris shrugged. He wandered over to the low table that had been set at the corner. Arranging an assortment of the little variety of foods available from the table on a platter, he returned to the tub. He sat on the edge. “Before you can move you will have to be treated and massaged. But before even that you must be fed.” He held a slice of chicken to her lips.

  Kyra drew her head back. “My arms function perfectly. There is no need for your assistance in my feeding.”

  Eris’s hand never wavered. “As does your mouth apparently, never the less…”

  The first morsel Kyra accepted set her belly rumbling. She blushed as she wolfed down the offering. Eris fed her tiny bits, making sure to dip the dry bread in the watery gravy. The chicken was not tender or juicy, so he fed her tiny bits at a time. He ate with her as well, but he offered her the best the platter had on meager display. Finally the platter lay bare, and Kyra sighed and leaned back blissfully. “Is there nothing with which to wash down this fare?”

  Eris smiled. His feisty Kyra was beginning to get her spirit back. Her demanding tone gave evidence of that.

  The wine on the table proved to be of the same low standard as the swill he had been forced to swallow. Quickly, he rummaged through his bag and produced a skin bag. The room filled with the rich aroma of wonderfully matured wine as he popped the lid. He poured a generous serving and held the goblet as she sipped. He allowed her slow sips only. Should she rush, she would find herself violently ill. And he surmised he would bear the brunt of the blame in that quarter as well. Once the goblet had been emptied, he placed it on the floor.

  He watched Kyra steadily as he pulled his tunic over his head. Thoroughly enjoying the way Kyra stared at him in fascination, he had no qualms in blatantly flexing and clenching his muscles as he discarded the garment. She gulped. “What are you doing?”

  Eris kneeled beside the tub. He touched a finger to her lips and whispered, “Do not move. Do not speak. Just relax.” His hand drifted down, brushing against her extended nipple, eliciting a hiss from her. Eris smiled. His hand drifted below the surface of the water and touched her thigh gently.

  Kyra lurched up, splashing water over the edges of the tub. Eris gentled her with his hands. With slow, even strokes, he caressed and soothed the aching muscles. Kyra bit her bottom lip and leaned back. Expert fingers kneaded slow, leisurely circles over her heated skin, all the decadent length from her upper thigh to her knees. Eris sucked in his breath as the tight, clenched muscles of her abused thighs began to slowly give way and release. She relaxed.

  Eris watched the pleasure radiate in her features. Her face was so expressive, her bliss and pleasure so easy to read. Her whimpers turned to mewling as he applied more pressure. The skin beneath his fingers was smooth and extra soft, owing to its marinating in the water at such length. He watched the surface intently. He could not see his hands beneath the soapsuds, but he could visualize. He could imagine his hands, dark, coarse, and large upon her pale, delicate, and tender skin. His movements slowed, gentled as the decadent path he imagined grew more focused in his mind. His hands moved, exploring up her inner thigh, caressing, teasing. As his hands approached the dark hidden secret of her womanhood, he felt the heat. His eyes blinked up.

  Kyra stared at him. Eris noticed the gray of her pupils had darkened, while the silver specks danced in banked excitement. A silent storm seemed to be brewing in the dark orbs. A whirlpool raged within its depths. His hands paused. Kyra moaned.

  Her eyes stayed locked with his as she issued her challenge. “My body burns with fever. My womanhood throbs for release.” Thrusting her hips enticingly, she whispered breathlessly, “Touch me.”

  The muscles around Eris’s mouth and jaw clenched. His eyes never strayed, but his hands slowly did. Both hands moved up and cupped her pulsing pussy. Kyra lurched again. Water splashed again, soaking his lower body as he knelt. Eris soothed her heated skin with gentle strokes while his quiet words sought to calm her. “You are like a wild mare, galloping, straining to fly.”

  Kyra finally allowed her heavy lids to drop, shielding her expressive eyes. Her voice was deep, husky. “Help me fly. I want to soar.”

  Eris needed no further invitation. He admired the length of her throat as she arched herself forward into his hands. He lowered his hands and grasped the backs of her knees. Gently he placed each over the edge of the tub of either side, opening her. His hands returned to her heated center but remained motionless as she rubbed herself frantically against them, using her leverage beneath her hooked knees. Eris felt the moisture coat his hands. It was not the light, liquid wetness of water but hot, heavy cream. Suddenly his hand reached out and cupped her bottom as she lifted urgently. Propping his elbow securely against the bend in the tub, his hand held her suspended above the water mark. His command boded no disobedience. “Open your eyes, Kyra.”

  Her lids drifted open. Before she could fully focus her hazy vision on him, he plunged two fingers into her hot, welcoming love pocket. Her eyes widened, her mouth open in a silent scream.

  His eyes did not stay locked with hers. His gaze was lowered, head bent intently forward and focused on his mission. He watched as his finger withdrew, wet and slippery with her juices. The fingers at her buttocks splayed, lifted her higher, spreading her legs wider. Eris stared, mesmerized, as he slipped a third finger into her, to the hilt. His thumb flicked hard over her nub. Kyra screamed. Eris did not falter. His focus remained complete. His fingers withdrew and plunged hard as his thumb stroked. He watched, fascinated, as the muscles at her entrance squeezed, contracting urgently as his finger withdrew. The opening relaxed and widened as his fingers plunged, taking him in deeper. With each penetration of his fingers, he felt her inner muscles suck and clench his tips. The velvety folds tightened and pulsed. His strokes became faster, harder, as milky moisture coated his fingers, welcoming his thick, impaling fingers.

  He hissed in satisfaction as he watched her features go lax as she gave herself over to the bliss streaming through her. He reveled in the throbbing of her muscles deep within her womanhood. He rejoiced in being the source of her pleasure. Like the opening of a dainty bud, she bloomed under his ministrations, into a wondrous sunflower. She became
alive, wild. Meeting each thrust of his fingers with a surge of her own body, she pumped harder, harsher. Her body tensed, strained over in a tight arch. She shouted urgently, “Faster.”

  Kyra screamed shrilly as his thick, stumpy digit, his thumb, pierced the opening at her anus. Her hips lifted higher, inviting more of his invading touch. Eris thrust his fingers into her wet pussy, and his thumb into her delightfully tight ass. His movements became frantic, erratic, as she mewled in pleasure, pumping her hips and gyrating in encouragement. Her body clenched sharply.

  Eris never halted in his merciless plundering. His thumb remained firmly submerged, stretching and teasing the rear valley between her slapping ass cheeks, as fingers thrust relentlessly. The friction of his heavily petting hand against her dripping clit burned like the scorching sun of Helios. Just one taste. He leaned down and gave her pussy a full, flat tongued lick, before plying her with quick, sharp flicks. Her musky essence filled his nostrils and flooded his lungs. Her unique taste burst upon his tongue, spicy sweetness.

  He offered no respite. She surrendered. The flood gates suddenly burst free. Kyra screamed long and hard as hot liquid gushed from her, dripping and squirting with each violent pulse within her. Her body jerked violently with each vibrant thrust of release, each glorious drop of her climax coating his caressing hands and feeding his hungry mouth, hot and creamy. His intake of breath caught in a knot. He swallowed down her flavor as he drew back and watched the current sweep her away. He knew she flew. She soared.

  Eris lowered her trembling, violently hot body into the cool waters. Kyra sighed. Eris cradled the back of her head with his hand as he reached out and grabbed his discarded tunic. Levering her cautiously, he lifted her gently out the water and simultaneously wrapped her in the cloth. He laid her tenderly on the bed and, without breaking skin contact, slid in beside her. Kyra shifted sleepily against the comfort of his broad chest. She purred in contentment. Her hot breath fanned against the bristles of coarse, springy hair on his chest. She trembled as his beast, stirred and coiled beneath her, then settled and rested.

  His heart thumped furiously. His breathing was harsh and savage, labored. Kyra frowned lightly, her features lax and lethargic. She whispered huskily against his hot skin, “Your pleasure?”

  Eris gathered her closely. “Sleep. You require rest.”

  Kyra mumbled against his chest, “I can go all night.”

  He grit his teeth in tight smile as he whispered, “Your muscles have taken a beating today. I would have you healed and fit before my feasting. Be warned, I am seldom so patient.”

  He waited for an argument. Silence greeted him. He peered down. Kyra was sound asleep. Soft laughter rumbled though his chest. “All night indeed.” He studied her relaxed features in the faint light provided by the fading torches. Her face was peaceful, blissfully at rest. Watching her thus, no one would believe her annoying stubbornness and irritating defiance. Least of all, one would never expect the vortex of sexual turbulence, the insatiable appetite for the flesh she possessed, and the aggression she displayed, impatiently demanding satisfaction. Now she appeared innocent, fragile, and almost angelic. The facets of her personality fascinated Eris. He frowned. Every facet intrigued him. He shook his head. His lack of release must surely be playing havoc with his mind. He could not enjoy a female who was stubborn, rebellious, and worst of all, so highly sexual. She would seek her pleasures wherever she could find them. He grunted. He could not want a woman who would stray from lance to lance, devouring and feasting as she pleased.

  Gathering his senses, he shifted and turned away from her, rejecting her tempting, beguiling presence beside him. But where his mind cautiously diverted, his body refused to follow suit. His erection jerked just once to alert him of its disagreement. The head of his snake tossed just once. Eris blew out a breath of exasperation. His beast and lance would have to learn one thing—he was the master. But as sleep claimed him, he wondered if even he answered to a master. Kyra seemed to have sunk her claws deep within, and she refused to release him. He could not resist her. More distressing, he was finding he didn’t want to anymore. He tossed, cursing the uncomfortable kline and even-more disconcerting Kyra at his back.

  * * * *

  Kyra awoke to the gentle warmth against her cheek. She smiled and sighed lazily, luxuriating in her heat. Her body had been well satisfied, and she had rested deeply. Stretching, she reached out to caress the object of her glorious mood this fine morning. Her hand caressed smooth sheets. Kyra peered through her lashes. The space beside her was empty. She sighed in disappointment. As she turned onto her back, she caught the reason for the heat upon her cheek—full in her eyes. She blinked furiously against the blinding sun’s rays. Grabbing the cloth upon her, she covered her face and grumbled. The sun’s heat would again be violent today. She sniffed and caught the scent of Eris upon the tunic that covered her scowling face. She growled. And she would face it without the release she had awoken craving.

  She tossed the tunic furiously across the bright room. The pins, still attached to the corners, fell with a resonating ping. A quiet voice greeted her. “Greetings, Lady Kyra. It is good of you to join the world of the living.” Clarisse pulled the curtains apart, allowing more of the torturous light entry.

  Kyra snarled in impatience. “Where is he?”

  Clarisse paused in her duty of dusting off an outfit for Kyra. She shrugged and shook her head. “He left early with instructions not to disturb you. He has not returned since.”

  Huffing in frustration, Kyra flopped over onto her stomach. A soft gasp followed her actions. Kyra peered over her shoulder. “What is it, Clarisse?”

  The girl moved her eyes away from Kyra’s naked bottom with a blush. She whispered beneath her breath, “He possesses a heavy hand with you. Harsh bruises mark the tender flesh of your behind. You must curb his ferocious appetite.”

  Kyra blinked. His ferocious appetite? She had been the screaming encouragement behind his caressing hand. She scowled at Clarisse. “You are yet young to discuss, let alone understand, such things. Leave me be.”

  Eyeing her with sympathy, Clarisse retorted, “There is a marked difference between youth and naivety. One may have one without possessing the ignorance of the other.”

  Kyra grumbled in the pillow. “Be gone, Clarisse. I would dress without disturbance. The day is yet early for your philosophical tongue.”

  Clarisse moved to the door. As she exited, she remarked, “One last philosophy. A morning past its mid is not early.”

  Within the hour, Kyra hissed as she stepped into the sun’s scorching rays. She shielded her eyes and searched frantically. Eris was nowhere to be seen. She grunted. He had been rather concerned for her welfare last night, enough to scare her into remaining within the confining walls of that rancid chamber. But this new day seemed to have cleared his sense of chivalry. He had left her alone to fend for herself against the cutthroats and abductors. Hungry eyes watched her from various corners along the street. Suddenly two armed guards stepped up behind her. She had missed their positions on either side of the steps as they had languished beneath the sparse shade. Perhaps Eris had not been as negligent as she had suspected. However, she still seethed. As she stomped back toward the steps and the security of the guards who had been placed there for her protection, a distant rumble caught her attention.

  An old cart drawn by a single ox approached. Kyra shielded her eyes and watched as the contraption drew closer. Upon sighting the driver, reins firmly between his hands, she gasped. “What are you doing with that ghastly contraption?”

  Eris sprung off and landed on his feet with a solid thud. He smiled and gestured to the cart. “Your chariot awaits you, my lady.”

  Kyra frowned at the object. The wheels seemed sturdy enough, and large, overlapping wooden beams had been erected above it, obscuring the sun. More importantly, a plush cushion had been attached to the seat. She eyed the pillow and gritted through clenched teeth, “I would prefer to ride.”

/>   Eris lowered his voice to a whisper. “Then a horse is the only ride you shall have for duration of our journey.”

  Kyra winced. She recalled the pain she had experienced the night before. She also remembered the hunger that had consumed her heated body. Had Eris not been so patient and accommodating, she would have awoken this day, strained and unsatisfied—much like Eris must have risen. She smirked cunningly. “I shall endure.”

  Eris narrowed his eyes threateningly at her. He hissed, “I shall not.”

  It took little time to have the procession once again on the move. Eris had been loud and demanding, driving the men hard to cover lost time. Kyra lowered her head in embarrassment. It was due to her that they had ventured out this late. Suddenly she tossed her hair back adamantly. She had asked for no special attention. Had the satisfying of her whims clearly been the objective, she would not have awoken alone this morning. She would have chosen to slake her morning thirst for a hard, pounding cock before commencing. Her dissatisfied grouching was very audible.

  “You find little comfort in your chariot, my princess?” Eris smiled, perched jauntily on his mount beside her. Clarisse grunted beneath her breath beside her. Wisely, the girl kept her thoughts to herself. She had been a gudgeon the whole morning, and Clarisse had found no compunction in saying so. Apparently she still guarded her tongue in the presence of Eris.

  Kyra tilted her face away. “It is not the inanimate aspects of my life that I find fault with.”

  Eris bellowed in laughter. “Ah. I understand now. You have issues with just people, men in particular and perchance beasts.” He continued to smile in amusement as he peered at her lower gown.

  Kyra looked down at her lap and grimaced. Deep, high slits were rent in the material on both sides and the middle of the skirt. The garment had been made with the purpose of horseback riding in mind. But now in the cart, the slits were obviously ill-suited. Sparing only a quick glance at Eris’s obvious amusement, she once again grabbed the gaping material and drew it closed. Another glance showed his smile broadening by annoying proportions at her frustrated, futile efforts. Every time she drew the slits closed at the sides, the middle slit, which had been put in place with the express intention of the widening of the wearer’s legs to accommodate a horse, drew apart.