by Vonna Harper
“Then I truly envy you.”
Nakos started walking again, not because he wanted to see how much more he could push his legs but because his body whispered to him of a soft female form. But even as his thoughts drifted to the sight of Jola waiting for him, he faced reality.
He’d captured her not for himself, but for his shaman and lord.
No, Farajj had told Nakos a few moments ago, he hadn’t seen Jola since the shaman had come looking for her in the morning. As far as he knew, the captive was still in Tau’s tent, and unless he’d left when Farajj wasn’t looking, Lord Sakima was in there with them.
He’d suspected this would happen, had known it would. Just the same, Nakos’s first impulse was to charge into the tent and demand his captive’s return. But as he made his weary way to it, he’d had to fight the impulse to turn and walk away—because no matter what he saw, he had no choice but to accept it.
Sakima was part of whatever would become of Jola. His lord, the man who’d taken him in and raised him after he’d lost everything, was a complex mix of compassion and commitment. He embraced everything that was Ekewoko without question and would die protecting his people if that’s what it took to insure their survival. At the same time, his lord saw everyone who wasn’t Ekewoko as inferior, the enemy.
Reaching the dusty tent, Nakos started to push the door flap aside only to let his hand drop and step back. Tau’s tent was sacred. No one entered it without first receiving permission.
“My shaman,” he called out. “It is I, Nakos. If my lord is in there, I need to speak to him.”
“Come in,” Tau and Sakima said in unison.
The invitation should have propelled him forward. Instead, he stood where he was. Then, because he had no choice, he ducked his head and entered the dark enclosure.
Tau and Sakima stood facing each other in the middle of the tent, their attention already leaving him and returning to the ground between them. Even though he suspected what he’d find there, the sight of Jola lying on her back with her body arched so her breasts were prominently displayed chilled him anew. Her arms had been tied behind her, forcing her unnatural position. A rope around her waist left no doubt that her wrists had been secured to it as he’d initially done, further hindering her ability to move. Although they trembled, her legs were pressed tightly together. She was gagged.
“She’s ready for you,” Tau said.
This wasn’t the first time he’d seen a female captive so displayed. Once, shortly after the Ekewoko had entered a long, low valley fed by a lazy river, the warriors had encountered the valley’s residents, a small, fierce clan that had no intention of sharing their land with those they considered invaders. Two skirmishes had resulted in injuries on both sides but no deaths. Instead of risking a battle against a foe they barely understood, some of the Ekewoko warriors had slipped out under cover of night trying to learn where the clan was hidden. Instead, they’d captured a couple of women they’d found picking fruit.
Because he’d been a warrior in training at the time, he hadn’t participated in the women’s interrogation, but he’d listened and learned. Although the women had been kept tied the entire time, they hadn’t been physically abused. Instead, their sexual natures had been explored in depth and once that nature had revealed itself, the women had been forced to endure arousal after arousal but never allowed to climax. After a day and a night, they’d been desperate to exchange everything they knew about where their clan was in exchange for sexual release and relief.
After that first introduction, Nakos had participated in the kind of treatment of other female captives that sometimes led to vital information. He’d never carried out an interrogation on his own, until now.
“What have you done to her?” he asked.
“Prepared her for you.”
Now that his eyes had adjusted to the gloom, he noted that she was taking deep and unsteady breaths, her ribs and pelvis bones standing out every time she inhaled. Moisture glistened on her pubic hairs.
“Why didn’t you wait until I returned?” He directed his question at Tau.
If the shaman resented what might be interpreted as criticism, he gave no indication. “I’ve had to be patient a long time, perhaps because the spirits have chosen to test me. Now that the means to my goal is in my control, I grow impatient.”
As long as Nakos didn’t meet Jola’s gaze he could concentrate. “Has she told you what you want to know?”
“Not want, need. No, she hasn’t, but then, I’ve enjoyed the journey.” Tau held out a juice-soaked hand. “Of course, bringing her along has exacted a certain toil on me.” He grabbed his crotch for emphasis. “She will pay for it.”
Nakos wanted to turn and walk out. Even more, he wanted to sling Jola over his shoulder and take her with him. The moment they were alone, he’d demand she tell him what the shaman had done to her; not that he needed to because her rapid breathing spoke loudly of one thing: a shaman’s knowing fingers.
“Nakos,” his lord warned. He jerked his head at Nakos’s hands, which had curled into fists.
“I didn’t expect this,” Nakos said, forcing himself to relax. “You say you needed certain information from her. Why, then, is she gagged?”
Tau grunted, then smiled. “To discourage her from lying. When she finally speaks, I want there to be no doubt she’s telling the truth.”
More likely, Tau was feeding his need for power. Still not studying the prone captive, Nakos concentrated on Sakima. “You approve?”
“I know what you’re thinking. She lives because you saved her, and you don’t want to see that life jeopardized. Rest assured, she has never felt more alive, have you, slave?” Lifting his leg, Sakima ran his foot over her thigh. Her legs parted a fraction. “See? Her responses are becoming predictable. They’re exactly what we expected.”
“But if she’s given too much time to rest,” Tau added, “we’ll have to begin all over again.”
Trying to ignore Jola wasn’t working. How could it, when his every nerve and vein seemed connected to her? Maybe, if he didn’t have the memory of how urgently she embraced her sexuality, he wouldn’t now be remembering how her body had jerked wildly and one gasp after another had escaped her. That she wasn’t trying to sit up or pressing her thighs back together said a great deal about how far the two men had brought her.
“She would already be singing,” his lord told him, “if my thoughts hadn’t been on a simple fact. This pleasure should be yours. You earned it.”
From the moment he’d grasped what was happening, he’d known Sakima would say that. A slave might belong to every Ekewoko but usually one warrior had a greater right than the others. In Jola’s case, there was no doubt who claimed ownership: him.
“Do it,” Tau commanded. “Teach her that she has no existence beyond you.”
The shaman’s words echoing, he took a single step toward her, then stopped. She was still a stranger to him, and yet he’d told her things he’d never believed he’d tell a captive. One of those things had been a lie or, if not that, only a partial truth, and although he’d regretted the omission then, he was now glad for the distance between them. Another step and distance no longer factored in, at least not in the physical sense.
But because he’d stopped himself in time, he retained the vital emotional separation he’d need to accomplish his mission.
“You’re certain she holds the information you’ve been seeking?” he asked Tau while his mind spun with possibilities. There were so many things he could do to her. So many pleasures awaiting.
“No doubt.”
Two words and he knew what he had to do. His thirst, hunger, and weariness forgotten, he sank to his knees beside his possession. She rolled her head to the side so she could watch him.
He liked the way the strips of leather held her mouth open and robbed her of voice. He’d prefer it if she was blindfolded so she couldn’t see what he was about to do, or find something in his expression that he wanted to keep
from her, but right now maybe it was better if she could watch and anticipate.
“You used only your hands?” he asked, not looking up at Tau. “On her sex, I mean?”
“It wasn’t easy. I wanted to take her.”
“But you didn’t?”
“You have so much to learn about a shaman’s strength,” Tau said. “The body must never override the mind and soul. Believe me, my hands were all I needed to break down her defenses. Besides, I wanted to explore her sex.”
Jola’s breath hissed. If she’d had use of her hands, Nakos had no doubt she’d dig her nails into the shaman. He also suspected that the consequences of doing so didn’t concern her. In fact, imagining her attacking him like some mountain cougar made his own heart race.
“You’re sure she didn’t climax?”
“I’m certain.”
Because Tau, like all Ekewoko, knew how to read and gauge a female’s sexual responses. Ekewoko. Yes, that’s who and what he was and would always be. “So you refused to give my shaman the information he needs,” he said, extending his hand until it nearly touched a hard, dark-tipped breast. “How can you, a captive, believe you have the right to do such a thing?”
Her eyes flashed. More telling, her legs parted a little more. He wondered at the self-control that had compelled her to try to protect her sex from the men who’d imprisoned her arms and robbed her of speech. Soon he’d explore the depths and limits of that self-control, but first—
“You are beautiful, desirable.” He grazed her nipple, then withdrew. “There’s nothing more exciting to an Ekewoko than a beautiful and helpless female.”
She glared at him.
“What is this?” Cocking his head, he gave her a quizzical look. “You don’t think you’re attractive? You are. Believe me, you are.” He again touched his finger to her nipple, then pulled back. “You’re like a spring flower unfolding. At this moment, you’re little more than a bud, swelling life. But the sun warms you, and before long, everyone will see the truth about you.”
Even though she didn’t know what to expect from him, she didn’t want to be draped in lethargy’s blanket. Instead, dangerous as it was, she needed to feel alive.
“How does it feel to be silenced?” he asked as his fingers settled over her nipple. He held her lightly yet firmly. “To not be able to stand or fight me?”
If he wanted her to answer, he’d have to remove her gag. Until he did, she’d cling to the present. And listen to his deep tones.
“Maybe you don’t have fight in you after all,” he continued. “A strange concept, I’m certain, to discover that you like this.” Leaning low, he fed her breast into his mouth and closed down.
Arching her back, she gnawed on the leather in her mouth. Her cheeks flamed.
A drawing sensation on her imprisoned breast forced out a low moan. Hating her weakness, she shook her head.
No! He was feeding on her, nibbling here, there, and everywhere. No matter how she tried, she couldn’t keep up with him, couldn’t begin to guess where his teeth and tongue would touch next. That he’d done this to her before didn’t matter. As he sucked more of her into him, she tried to turn to the side, only to stop and flop onto her back again as his grip tightened.
Still firmly gripping her with his lips, he straightened a little. She stared as her blurred breast elongated. The drawing sensation increased, then built even more until another moan broke free. Instead of heeding her cry, he pulled again. Tears sprang to her eyes. At the same time, white-hot heat scored her belly and ran toward her crotch. This time she groaned.
After giving her breast a quick jerk, he released her. Her entire breast felt as if it had been brought too close to the sun.
“What did that do to you?” he asked and slid a hand between her legs. Shuddering, she struggled to remember how to close them, but even when she managed to bring her knees together, his hand prevented her thighs from doing the same. Hating herself for the thought, she drew comparisons between her sex lips embracing his cock and soft thigh flesh cradling his fingers and palm.
And when he glided a thumb over those lips as she’d known he’d do, she whipped her head to the side and tightly closed her eyes. She had no such control over her bucking hips.
“You want to be ridden, do you?” he demanded. “Yes, you must, because here’s the proof.”
Something deep inside her quivered. She barely acknowledged the thumb that was invading what maybe already belonged to him. This body of hers had never felt like this, had never been touched in such ways.
“Proof,” he repeated, lower this time. “Sweet, wet truth flowing from you.”
He was gone, leaving her empty and her mind shaking. Then he began bathing the breast he’d handled earlier with warm, sticky fluid from her pussy, forcing her to open her eyes and gape at him. She had no thoughts, no words wanting to be spoken. There were only his indistinct features and the heat sliding off him and onto her. Only that sweet, wet truth he spoke about drying on her breast and him going back for more.
One of the two other men might have chuckled as he painted her other breast with her own liquid, but perhaps she only imagined the sound.
Back he came for more, sliding past her inflamed flesh, caressing and stroking, his sleek, firm nail contrasting with his calloused fingertip and everything confusing her. Making her whimper and moan and still not care that she was being noisy. Her leg muscles burned and threatened to cramp. Why was she trying to hold onto modesty or self when both had been shattered? Melted.
“See what I mean,” Tau said from someplace far away. “She’s ready.”
Nakos’s thumb stilled. She could be wrong, but he seemed more tense than he’d been a moment ago and his breathing was louder. “Just because her legs have parted?” he asked. “Believe this, shaman, there is more to her than sex and need.”
Was there? With Nakos handling her and what the other men had done to her earlier ruling everything, she didn’t know.
“What about it, Jola?” Nakos asked with his mouth so close to her ear that his breath tickled. “If I remove your gag, will you tell us where the falcons breed and give birth?”
“No!” she screamed into the gag.
“I told you,” Nakos said, speaking to the men, “she isn’t as simple as you want her to be. Yes, she’s a sexual creature.” As if making his point, he slid his thumb deep into her. Her legs all but melted into the ground. “But she’s loyal to her people.”
“People?” Tau questioned. “They’re animals.”
“No, they aren’t.”
Before she could comprehend what he had in mind, Nakos grabbed her ankles and began pushing on them, forcing her to bend her knees. He was relentless and strong, not stopping until her heels touched where her thighs and buttocks joined. Then he drew her legs apart and settled himself on his knees in the space he’d created. Only then did he release her ankles, but with his body in place, she remained spread. Vulnerable.
“Pleasure and helplessness, Jola,” he said and rested the heel of a hand on her mons. She saw nothing but his face, his dark and knowing eyes. “That’s what I’m going to give you. When I’m finished, you can either thank me by telling us what we want to know or…”
Or what? her mind screamed. Then he placed her calves on his shoulders, lifting her buttocks off the ground. Her weight settled onto her trapped hands and shoulders, forcing her head back so she now stared at the top of the tent. Not being able to see him even as her body recorded everything he did frightened her.
Not content with what he’d just accomplished, he gripped her ass cheeks and pulled her yet closer, yet higher. Her shoulder blades ached from the increased pressure, and her cunt muscles clenched in anticipation.
“I saw that,” Nakos told her. The breath that had inflamed her ear a few moments ago now bathed her pussy. “The simple beauty of a woman’s sex muscles doing what the spirits created them for.”
Something wet and warm slid over her slit. Gasping, she tried to bu
ck out of her captor’s grasp. He waited her out, and when she relaxed a little, he touched her there again. Although she shuddered and gasped, she didn’t try to break free this time. He’d caressed her with his tongue—his tongue!
“No more fighting, Jola?” her captor questioned almost gently. “Is it because you want this more than you fear it?”
Fear, maybe a little. Acknowledging that, if only to herself, made it easier to shake her head. However, she guessed he didn’t believe her because he lapped at her once more, taking twice as long this time and dipping deep into her core. Again she fought, not for freedom, but because his touch brought her so close to the edge.
She started to thrash her head only to stop because her neck burned. Although she wasn’t upside down, she might as well have been for all the control she had over her body. Not only that, she was becoming light headed.
Most of all, every time her struggling quieted, he came after her. Dragged her to the edge of sanity. As if it wasn’t unsettling enough to have his tongue plunder her sex, he occasionally pressed it against her clit. She wanted to be silent, damn it! Needed to close silence around her. But moaning kept her from shattering, as did trying to lift her legs off his shoulders.
“No!” He lightly pinched her buttocks.
Arching her back bought her no freedom, no relief. But as long as her legs remained in place, he didn’t pinch her again. And when tongue and hot breath on her about-to-explode tissues fed her thigh muscles, the resultant punishment slammed against her brain.
She’d just wrapped fragile self-control over her legs when he opened his mouth and sucked her labia into his moist cave. His lips closed down, captured her.
“Ah, ah,” she cried into the gag. More heat than she’d known was possible rolled through her sex and caught her entire body on fire. She shuddered now, shuddered and shook and trembled as if a storm had overtaken her, and still he sucked.
Her brain spun out a comparison between what he was doing to her sex now and had done to her breast earlier. It all came together, stirred into a frenzied whole, sliced her into small pieces.