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Falcon’s Captive

Page 9

by Vonna Harper


  “You do now.” His voice was low, thick, and heavy. Not only had he kept the two fingers inside her, he now stroked her mons, the touch light but inescapable.

  Mewling, she ground her knuckles into her belly. She wouldn’t surrender; she wouldn’t!

  To her shock, he pulled out of her only to run his hands under her buttocks and lift her onto his thighs. Her mind shattered.

  “Such an exquisite creature, all sensation and hunger. Your hunger is your undoing, Jola. If you’re ever going to win this battle between us, you have to learn how to control yourself.”

  “I hate you. Hate you!” Even though she wanted to claw him, she lifted her arms over her head. The moment she did, she acknowledged that she had indeed surrendered everything to him.

  As if agreeing with her, he pulled her even tighter against him. Staring at the sky, she bent her knees yet more and planted her feet under her. His cock ground against her burning tissues, forcing another primitive sound from her.

  “Hate me if you must. It doesn’t change your needs, or mine.”

  Need. More powerful than anything I’ve ever experienced.

  Her senses splintering like thin ice, she grabbed her hair and yanked. Pain poured through her only to slide away.

  “Stay with me, Wilding.”

  Stop calling me that! she wanted to scream, but he was right. She’d never felt more wild. The pressure against her pussy increased. Then her sex lips parted and he slipped in. Only his tip invaded, yet the promise of more arched her back and opened her mouth. A low moan escaped. She again tugged at her hair, then pushed her fingertips into her scalp.

  “My lord told us that the Wildings might not have been created like humans,” he said in a strangled tone. “That their sex might be part animal, or bird.”

  A chill instantly cooled her fevered body. “Bird?” she got out.

  “Those were my lord’s words, his and Tau’s. No one questioned them, but they were wrong.”

  “You say that because…”

  “Because my cock knows what a woman’s sex feels like.” His breath brushed over her breasts. “And this”—he pushed in a little more—“is a woman’s cunt.”

  Relief slowly washing over her, she ran her fingers along his throat. If he was concerned she might scratch him again, he gave no indication, but then a rutting man was a single-minded beast.

  His hands slid from her buttocks to her hips, and he drew her yet closer. Her pussy, stretched wide from his bulk, caught fire.

  More images filled her mind, but she couldn’t make sense of them. They, maybe, were part of the world she’d always known, although there was something foreign about them. But could she expect anything different? With everything in her world new, frightening, and exciting, no wonder nothing was familiar.

  The thick, heavy mass inside her—she’d never experienced this, never!

  A small voice insisted that Raci had taken her virginity, yet she felt like a virgin again, not scared as much as untested and unsure.

  And eager, so eager.

  She couldn’t stand, couldn’t even sit up. Her hands were all but useless. This big, tall man might easily outrun her; he’d certainly overpower her.

  Overpowered. Forced down onto her back with her legs splayed, waiting for him to penetrate.

  No, already penetrated. Skewered on his cock, thrust after thrust now pummeling her body. If not for his continued hold on her hips, she’d be sliding against the ground. Rocks might tear at her flesh and make her bleed if not for him.

  Her arms were becoming heavy, compelling her to stop reaching for him and let her hands rest on her middle. Then he plowed forward, and her breasts danced, and she gripped the one that had been in his mouth. Holding it tightly, she quieted its fierce jiggling. The other still shook and shivered, but with her hands roped together, she couldn’t hold onto both at once.

  Didn’t matter. Only her body dancing with his did. He shook her, rocked her entire length, demonstrating his greater strength, his single-minded purpose.

  “Ha!” he grunted. “Ha.”

  Who’s animal now, Nakos?

  Another grunt seemed wrenched from him. She waited for his next sound, yet more proof of how deeply he’d sunk into his cock’s demands. Instead, silence greeted her.

  By grinding her shoulders into the dirt, she managed to hold her ground so every time he thrust into her, his cock sank in all the way to his balls. His scrotum became a hot kiss along her inner thighs.

  His features were twisted in the way of a man lost. If she didn’t feel the same way, she might have believed she’d won something. But they were both on the same journey, almost.

  Fighting the rope around her wrists only caused it to bite deeper into her. Besides, she wasn’t sure she wanted to be free, didn’t know anything except the pummeling her body was taking and the fury/fire in her belly. The tornado was back again, flinging her in all directions at the same time. She flew, fell, flew again, burned.

  “Ah!” she screamed. “Ah, ha.”

  He said something, not words but raw honesty torn from deep inside him. His low, harsh cries hammered her.

  She knew she was going to climax before the eruption struck, but although every fiber of her being ached for release, she fought to keep it inside her. Her captor’s release began flooding her, proof that, maybe, her self-control was greater. Maybe that’s why she fought her insistent body. She was afraid nothing would remain of her afterward.

  Head thrashing, hands again squeezing her breast, she tried to push free of the hard meat invading her. Far from granting her what she needed, he loomed low over her. Her lower legs were caught against his armpits, and as he closed in on her, he bent her legs so deeply that her thighs nearly touched her breasts.

  “No, no, no!” Releasing her breast, she struck his cheek with both hands.

  “Yes!”

  Ah, more pressure on her legs, his too-big body folded over her and his breath washing her face and throat. She tried to slap him again.

  His pelvis jerked and drove forward an impossible inch more. More of his wet heat drenched her inner tissues and fed the flames she tried to tell herself she didn’t want.

  “Yes!” he bellowed. “Yes.”

  And she came. Flew apart. Shattered.

  10

  The smell was the first thing Jola noted when Nakos and she entered the Ekewoko encampment. Meat was being roasted, but behind the pungent aroma was something that knotted her stomach. It took her several moments to realize she was reacting to the stench of the men watching her and her captor. The Falcons saw cleanliness as a way of celebrating the gift of life, but apparently that was an unknown concept to the enemy. Either that or they were afraid of the lake. She was the only woman.

  Trudging wearily behind Nakos, she dimly wondered why his aroma hadn’t sickened her, then concluded that diving into the lake after her must have cleaned him. She just wished she felt as physically strong as he appeared. Of course, if his freedom had been stripped from him as hers had been, he might not be holding his head high.

  Thinking about how he’d look wrapped in enemy ropes was preferable to dealing with her own reality. She tried to imagine him stripped of his weapons and surrounded by her people, but too many piercing gazes made that impossible. Although she was grateful to him for taking the time to locate the dress she’d cast off so long ago, she couldn’t help but berate herself for not taking advantage of the few moments when her hands had been free. Even with him standing within easy reach of her, she should have done something.

  What something? she asked as she resolutely stared at his back instead of the men seated around the cooking fire. He’d been prepared for her to attempt to escape. In fact, she’d had no doubt he would have relished the opportunity to run her down, which is why she’d refused to give in to impulses.

  And because she hadn’t, she was now surrounded by compact hide tents, weapons, and other possessions of those who’d invaded her country.

  “You mu
st be tired of having to keep an eye on her,” one of the seated men said, nodding at Nakos. “Because I’m concerned for your well-being, I’d be only too happy to take over the responsibility.”

  “Controlling a Wilding is hardly a job for one man,” someone else added. “Perhaps we need to take turns. I’m volunteering for the first shift, tonight.”

  They weren’t just studying her; some were leering. If Nakos hadn’t fastened a lead rope to her wrists to keep her close to him, she would have been tempted to cling to his side. He might have robbed her of her freedom, but at least he’d proven himself to be gentle, so far.

  “So there really are female Wildings. I had my doubts.”

  “Me, too, but now that I no longer do, I know what I’m going to be doing tomorrow: looking for another.”

  “Not by yourself you aren’t. Bodies like that—did you fuck her, Nakos? Of course you did. Any living man would.”

  The crude conversation made her shudder. Still trembling, she stiffened her spine and lifted her head. She expected Nakos to say something to his companions, but although he’d stopped, he only studied them.

  He hadn’t looked at or spoken to her since they’d left the lake. At first she’d been grateful for the silence but as time wore on, she’d silently cursed him for forcing her to live with her thoughts. She didn’t understand this man who’d captured her; she might never.

  At the same time, she had no doubt why he wanted her and maybe that was worse than the rope that forced her hands in front of her. He saw her as a possession, a pet maybe, a slave even. He’d keep her with him as long as she satisfied his man needs.

  Years, forced to be with him?

  Unable to rejoin her people.

  Not being able to reach Raptor’s Craig where she’d change form and fly.

  Heat moved through her in a wave, reminding her all too acutely of what leaving her human body and becoming a Falcon felt like. She loved every moment of the transformation, but none brought her more joy than being able to spread her wings and soar into the wind.

  But even if changing was possible anywhere except at Raptor’s Craig, it didn’t matter because she couldn’t lift her arms.

  Afraid she might not survive if she didn’t face reality, she forced herself to stare at her arms. He’d crossed her wrists one over the other. Although he’d wrapped the rope around them several times, he hadn’t cut off her circulation, but maybe numbness or pain would have been better than this.

  “She isn’t paying attention to us,” an older-sounding man said. “What’d you do, drug her?”

  “With a treated arrow, yes,” Nakos said. “It worked quickly but wore off far sooner than it should have.”

  “Hmm. Maybe the Wildings are immune, at least to some extent.”

  Nakos nodded. “There’s something about her…Where are Tau and Sakima?”

  The older warrior pointed at a faded tent. “I’m surprised they’re still in there, but sometimes when they get to talking or praying, they aren’t aware of anything else.”

  Pulling her to his side, Nakos closed a large hand around her arm. She tried to guess what he was thinking but how could she when she knew so little about him?

  Spirit, please look after me.

  Sweat ran down Lord Sakima’s naked chest and pooled over his well-fed belly. His gray, thinning hair was plastered to his neck, his hands folded near his flaccid cock. The shaman Tau sat across from him, steam from the heated rocks in a shallow stone bowl that contained water drifting like fog around both men. Like Nakos’s lord, Tau was naked, but although he was considerably younger than Sakima, Tau wasn’t as muscular.

  Both men had looked up as Nakos lifted the tent flap and brought his captive in with him. They were still staring at her, two sets of eyes wider than usual.

  “You did it,” Lord Sakima said, smiling. “I was beginning to wonder—”

  “Our chants have been answered,” Tau interrupted. “My prayers—”

  “Yes, of course. No one ever doubts the power of your prayers. I’d simply asked if your chants would have to be modified because we’re dealing with creatures who aren’t quite human.”

  Although he’d always revered the two men, a sudden anger struck Nakos. She is human, he came close to insisting.

  “How,” his lord asked, “did you capture her?”

  He kept the explanation short and wasn’t sure why he hadn’t said anything about her unexpected swift recovery from the numbing drug. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that she was staring at him.

  “You had sex with her,” Tau said matter-of-factly. “How were her responses?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Were they the same as other women you’ve fucked? No blunted responses?”

  “None.” Hopefully the shaman wouldn’t ask for more in the way of details.

  “Hmm. Interesting. What about her ability to comprehend?”

  “If you mean does she understand what we’re saying, the answer is yes, every word.”

  Tau’s features had been impassive. Now, head bobbing, his eyes narrowed. Part of what made the shaman so mysterious was his ability to keep his thoughts to himself. Even when he was revealing one of his magic dreams, he did so without emotion. As a boy, Nakos had wondered whether Tau simply didn’t care about others’ reactions to his proclamations, but as he grew up, he changed his mind. Quite simply, Tau embraced the gift that set him apart from the rest of the tribe. Others might gasp at his revelations or shiver when he warned of danger, but to the shaman, he was simply sharing his truth with those that truth impacted. That was what isolated Tau from everyone else.

  Tau stood, his long, slim body unfolding gracefully. He didn’t put on the heavily decorated cape that had been passed down through generations of shamen before standing before Jola.

  “She’s slighter than I thought she would be,” the unabashedly naked man mused. “Hardly any bigger than a child.”

  “But strong. She fights.”

  “Of course she does. What wild creature wouldn’t?”

  She isn’t wild, not the way you think.

  “Perfectly formed with hips meant for childbearing.”

  Struck by the surprise in Tau’s voice, Nakos glanced down at Lord Sakima. The older man continued to sit cross-legged and rest his palms on his knees, his neck stretched but still wrinkled as he looked up.

  Jola’s quick intake of breath brought Nakos’s attention back to the interaction between his captive and his shaman. Tau had placed his hand on her throat, the fingers curled around the slender column. Even though he didn’t believe Tau would hurt her, Nakos tensed.

  “A strong pulse.” Tau ran his fingers over her chin. “Strength here, too.”

  She didn’t move. Not a muscle jumped. But her eyes had darkened, and her nostrils were flared. Wondering what it would take for her to forget she was a captive, Nakos tugged on the rope. Her jaw clenched.

  “What’s that?” Tau said, tightening his hold on her chin. “Don’t you like being touched?”

  “No.”

  “Ah,” Lord Sakima said from his place on the floor, “she does speak. Tell me, Nakos, did she fight when you raped her?”

  “It wasn’t rape.”

  “Oh? One look at your magnificent muscles and she wrapped her body around yours? That’s why it was so easy for you to capture her?”

  Lord Sakima had never held back when talking about sex. As he’d pointed out back when he was preparing Nakos for his first time with a sex slave, the more open a man was about his needs and intentions, the more likely she was to submit. A man who felt the slightest hesitancy about his sexual prowess or rights had to fight her instinct to retain control over her body, but that changed once she realized the man intended on demanding his due.

  Nakos might have blindly believed his lord if he hadn’t been privy to Sakima’s relationship with his wife. That relationship boiled down to one thing: Sakima was deeply grateful to his wife for everything she did for him. Not on
ly had she borne his children, she was a good cook and a tireless worker. She also put up with her husband’s snoring and his uneasy stomach. Of course, there was a great deal of difference between a slave and a wife.

  “Initially she fought me,” Nakos admitted. “And I have no doubt she will again, given the opportunity, but by the time I was done preparing her body—”

  “Ha!” Sakima exclaimed and pushed his creaking body to his feet. “See, Tau. I taught my son well.”

  “So you have said, many times.”

  Tau still had his hand around Jola’s throat, and from what Nakos could tell, she hadn’t begun to relax. Although he wanted to order the shaman to release his captive, he knew better. Then Tau moved his exploration to just above her breasts. Something hard seized Nakos’s chest, forcing him to breathe deeply.

  “Her heartbeat,” Tau said, “is no different from mine. Strong and steady.”

  “You didn’t expect that?” Nakos asked around the pressure in his chest.

  “I told you, I had my doubts. Did she—was there ever a moment when you thought she might become something else?”

  Suddenly Jola sucked in air. Her fingers curled into tight balls.

  “What’s this?” Tau demanded. Grabbing her tied wrists, he lifted her arms so he could study her hands. “Your heart is pounding like a drum, and if you could, you’d kill me, wouldn’t you?”

  Although she curled back her lips revealing straight, white teeth, she said nothing. Frowning, Tau released her and stepped away. For just a moment Nakos thought he saw apprehension in Tau’s small, pale eyes.

  “Be careful with her,” Tau warned. “Don’t give her use of her arms or she’ll try to end you.”

  Was that possible? With the memory of her soft, warm pussy around his pulsing cock, he couldn’t quite believe the warning.

  “We battled,” he said. “I won.” Maybe.

  Coming to stand beside Tau, Sakima studied Jola with an intensity Nakos had seldom seen from his lord. “Is this what you saw in your dreams?” he asked the shaman.

  “I cannot be sure. A fog covered everything.”

  “But you must have seen—”

 

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