The Barbarian's Bride

by Loki Renard

Aisling was not the sort of woman who had ever touched herself in her nether regions. She had been taught very strictly that those were the domain of her husband to be. Sometimes she had pressed herself against a pillow and enjoyed the little bolts of pleasure that came from that, but otherwise she was a complete vaginal innocent.

  Fingertips slid up and down the length of her lips, teasing them into greater fullness, and then Mara lowered her head and began suckling gently over the region of the hard bud, not directly upon it, but drawing up the flesh nearby so it was stimulated all together.

  A hot blush spread over Aisling’s body, from her toes to her hair. It was a most wonderful feeling, but she was not entirely sure she was supposed to be enjoying it so very much. She looked down at Mara, saw the woman’s lips pursed around her most intimate parts, and felt a fresh flush of illicit pleasure that only served to make her wetter and more wanton than before.

  Both Aisling and Mara were soon caught in the spell of lust so great that they quite forgot where they were. Indeed, Aisling almost forgot who she was. What did a little thing like identity matter when one was being pleasured to the very limits of one’s capacity. She forgot all about being a proper princess and lifted her hips to Mara’s mouth, offering herself without reservation.

  Mara was dabbing the underside of her tongue against the lower reaches of Aisling’s bud, eliciting little moans from Aisling when the door opened and Chief Rikiar stepped into the room. There was no hiding what they had been doing, Aisling’s legs were spread quite wide and Mara was positioned between them in such a way as to leave no doubt as to her actions.

  There was a hush as Rikiar looked upon the two women, one of his brows rising slowly.

  “Mara,” he drawled. “Taking advantage of your position?”

  Mara straightened and dabbed her lips. “Not at all. She needed relief. When I began washing her, she practically gushed with lust.”

  “Those rushing waters are mine,” Rikiar drawled. He did not seem angry, but he was certainly scolding Mara. “Come here,” he ordered.

  Aisling watched with wide eyes as Rikiar beckoned the maidservant close, took hold of her by the arm, bent her over the bed, and landed a flurry of hard slaps to her bottom over her skirts. Mara squealed, but did not seem to mind the punishment one little bit.

  “I have warned you of this before, have I not, Mara, you wicked little seductress?” Rikiar growled down at the prone maidservant. “I would lift your skirts and take leather to your behind, if I were not so sure it would frighten Aisling.”

  Aisling looked over at Mara and made eye contact with the unfortunate servant. To her total surprise, Aisling saw her wink. Rikiar laid several more hard slaps to the general region of Mara’s buttocks, then pulled her up to her feet.

  “Go make yourself useful, wench,” he said, giving her one last hard slap that made Aisling gasp and worry for the servant yet again, at least until she saw the little smirk on Mara’s face as she dutifully curtsied and left the room.

  Cringing, Aisling assumed she would be next to be punished.

  “Stay where you are,” he said as she drew her limbs up. “You look far too pretty to move.”

  Aisling blushed. There was no censure in his gaze or tone. That reassured her. She had been afraid he might beat her too.

  “That is the problem with women, and Mara in particular,” Rikiar said when they were alone. “They follow their lusts.” His eyes drifted between Aisling’s still parted thighs. “And you present a very enticing sight.”

  “I am sorry, m’lord.”

  “Do not apologize. Mara is a wicked little wench. I am not surprised she could not resist you. And you, did you enjoy her touch?”

  Aisling bit her lower lip. It was not in her nature to lie, but she did not wish to displease Rikiar.

  “You will not anger me if you say yes. Mara is talented in the pleasure department.”

  “I did enjoy it, m’lord,” Aisling admitted, blushing.

  “Good,” Rikiar smiled. “There is nothing wrong with receiving pleasure, though I would prefer to be the source of it. Mara has no doubt stolen your first experience with lips and tongues from me.”

  “I am sorry, m’lord,” Aisling said as a great wave of regret washed over her. Tears sprang to her eyes. Though she had known Rikiar but a short time, she did not like the idea that something that should have been shared between them had been taken by another.

  “Shhh.” He leaned down and pressed reassuring kisses to her mouth. “Do not apologize for that. I left the little wretch with you. I’m surprised she didn’t deflower you while she was at it.”

  “She did not,” Aisling reassured him. “She put her mouth on me and she licked me, but that was all.”

  “She is undoubtedly a bad influence,” Rikiar purred. “But I think you could do with a bad influence or two.”

  Aisling did not understand what he meant, and she did not have time to think about it, for Rikiar’s hand was on her thigh, his thick fingers trailing up the inside of her leg toward her flowing quim. Her stomach muscles clenched as they drew closer, closer, her womanhood pulsing with anticipation.

  And then his fingers were there, brushing across her quim as he kissed her deeply. His thick, rough, hard digits manipulated her delicate folds with surprising care, parting her lips like curtains and pressing one of his fingertips inside the tight channel.

  Tensing against the intrusion, Aisling whined in discomfort. She was still very much aroused, but even the relatively minor thickness of his finger inside her seemed too great.

  “Shh,” Rikiar said. “Relax.”

  How did one relax when one’s body was being invaded with the flesh of another? Aisling tried but failed, and after another few moments of her obviously uncomfortable whimpering, Rikiar removed his finger.

  “You are undoubtedly a virgin,” he said, smoothing her hair back from her face tenderly. “Go lie upon the bed.” His gaze traveled down the length of her body, from her small, pert breasts to the soft tone of her belly and the dark curling place of pleasure between her thighs.

  She realized then, that she was naked and that he was seeing her so for the first time. It had felt so natural when he came in, and she had been so distracted by Mara’s pleasures that she quite forgot to worry about her nudity.

  Rising with a full body blush, Aisling did as she was told. She could feel Rikiar’s eyes on her, feasting silently on every curve.

  “Lie on your stomach,” he murmured.

  She obeyed, glad for the order. It was easier to lie on her stomach, feel the comforting softness of the bed below her. There was less exposure in this position…

  “Spread your legs.”

  There was a little more exposed once Aisling followed that part of the order, but to her gratification she discovered that spreading her legs pressed the hard nub of her still pulsing desire to the bed.

  Rikiar knelt and ran the flat of his palm over Aisling’s bare thighs and bottom, tapping lightly across the crowns of her cheeks.

  “Naughty,” he drawled, “to have your cunnie licked so willingly by a stranger.”

  “I am sorry, m’lord,” Aisling breathed.

  “I don’t think you are,” Rikiar said. “You are still too wet to be sorry.” He let the pads of his fingers slide over her outer lips in a soft caress. “Look at you, spread, wet, your sheath ready for my sword, but for that pesky little bit of skin.”

  Aisling hissed in a breath as his fingers once more probed inside her, finding her hymen.

  “This will stay intact for the moment,” he said, sliding his fingers out again, then in a little ways, then out again, treating her to a little taste of what it would be like when his flesh speared inside her. It felt quite wonderful, so much so that Aisling was soon lifting her hips, presenting her pussy as his prize.

  “You want to cum, don’t you,” Rikiar drawled in that husky voice. “You want to have your pussy played with until you clench and scream and spend yourself all over me.” A
sharp slap to her bottom followed the words. “But you’ve been naughty, Aisling, and naughty princesses have their bottoms spanked.”

  He began spanking her a little more firmly, the flat of his hand meeting her bottom in crisp slaps that stung, but did not seriously hurt. He had been much rougher with Mara, who had not seemed to mind in the slightest. Aisling wondered what the serving girl had felt when Rikiar’s hand thundered down across her bottom, surely something much more intense than the light sting that was spreading across her own cheeks.

  “Have you seen a man’s cock before, Aisling?”

  “No, m’lord.”

  “On your knees.”

  The spanking had been abandoned in favor of Rikiar’s lust, which was most evident in a hard ridge that pressed against the leather of his trousers. Aisling watched, quite entranced as he unlaced the ties and let them fall.

  She let out a little squeak of surprise upon seeing his cock. It seemed to her to be almost a foot long, and almost as thick as her wrist. The head was seeping liquid through a small slit set in a bulbous roundness that flared out over the shaft. The shaft itself was hard and trammeled with veiny ridges.

  Rikiar wrapped his hand around it and stroked back and forth a few times. “Come, sweet Aisling,” he said, “Put your lips around me.”

  Ever obedient, Aisling opened her mouth and accepted his cock. She tasted salt, which was not at all unpleasant as the thick flesh slid across her tongue.

  “Good girl,” Rikiar praised, running his fingers through her hair as she tasted him with a tenderly curious touch, running her tongue over the ridges of his manhood. His sighs of pleasure were gratifying, but his praise made her glow. “Let your tongue run all over it, that’s right.”

  Aisling traced her tongue over each and every ridge, lapping from the base of his long cock all the way to the tip in a way that caused him to let out a shuddering groan.

  “By the gods,” he said, his fingers curling in her hair. “Your tongue is naturally talented.”

  She wrapped her lips around his cock and looked up at him, prompting a tremor she felt leaping through his cock.

  “And you look so sweet with my sword in your mouth,” he said, urging his hips forward. “I cannot tell you how much self-control it takes not to throw you down and plunge myself into that sweet, wet cunt of yours.”

  Aisling responded by licking the head of his manhood as though it were a boiled sweet, making him arch his back.

  “You little witch,” he gasped.

  It was not difficult to pleasure a man, Aisling discovered. All she had to do was touch his cock with her lips and tongue and he was in ecstasy. She learned that there was a curious power in suckling a man’s staff. Rikiar was so captured by the twisting of her tongue that the world could have ended and he might not have noticed.

  For long minutes, Aisling enjoyed herself listening to Rikiar’s moans and groans, the pulsing of his cock against her lips. His groans grew louder and his hands tangled more forcefully in her hair. She did not know what was coming, but something surely was.

  Suddenly, thick wads of white liquid shot over her tongue, catching her by surprise as Rikiar unloaded his lust inside her mouth. She swallowed it without even thinking, earning herself a further moan of appreciation.

  “Oh, my Aisling, you are a natural,” Rikiar said, sinking down on the bed beside her, quite spent. He closed his eyes and reached out a hand to cup her hip and part of her bottom.

  “Am I forgiven for my indiscretion with Mara?”

  Rikiar opened one eyelid and nodded slightly. “More than forgiven,” he drawled before closing his eye again.

  Aisling pressed her body alongside his, both for warmth and comfort. In less than a day, Rikiar was starting to feel like home. Maybe it was because he was the first man she’d ever touched. Maybe because he was the first person to show her affection and interest in her adult life. Or maybe it was because every princess needed a barbarian.

  As she tentatively cuddled closer, Rikiar reached out, wrapped an arm fully around her and pulled her close. Aisling wasn’t really tired, but she dozed off with Rikiar nonetheless.

  Chapter Four

  Aisling did not expect to see Mara again. If anything like what had happened with Mara had happened back at the castle, Mara would probably have lost her head. Rikiar did not seem like the sort of chief who kept a headsman around the place, but Aisling was still surprised when she was woken the next morning not by Rikiar, who had evidently left to do important chief things, but Mara. She was dozing quite peacefully when the covers were pulled back playfully. Aisling whined at the sudden cold and blinked accusingly in the direction of the maidservant.

  “Hello,” Mara said, grinning.

  “Mara,” Aisling said. “What are you doing here?”

  “Not coming back to diddle your button,” Mara said. “Unfortunately.” She flashed Aisling that unrepentant grin and sat down on the bed. “Rikiar said to take you out to the market.”

  “I can go out?”

  “You’re not a prisoner,” Mara laughed. “Of course you can go out.”

  “But…” Aisling did not understand. “I can go outside?”

  “Yes,” Mara repeated. “You can go outside.”

  “Oh.” Aisling sat up and drew the blanket back up over her knees. “That is strange.”

  “You don’t want to?”

  “I never did that before.”

  “What do you mean, you never did that before?”

  “The king kept me in the castle so I would be safe,” Aisling told Mara. “Sometimes I would walk about the courtyard if someone could watch me, but most of the time I stayed in the tower.”

  “It’s a wonder you kept your figure, being so shut in,” Mara said, casting another appreciative look at Aisling, who smiled in response.

  “Come on,” Mara said. “I’ll be with you. I’ll chaperone you. Make sure you don’t get into trouble with anyone.”

  “Last time I got into trouble, it was with you,” Aisling pointed out.

  “True,” Mara said, standing. “Come, I’ll brush your hair before we go.”

  Aisling sat before a mirror and watched Mara as she brushed her hair out. The strokes of the brush felt nice against her skull, soothing and familiar.

  “Rikiar truly sent you to me again?”

  Mara smiled into the mirror. “He had a little word with me first.” She turned to the side, hiked up her skirt and showed Aisling half her cheek. Deep red palm prints showed fresh against her skin. Rikiar had spanked her. To Aisling’s surprise, she felt a pang of something like jealousy.

  “Don’t worry,” Mara said, catching her glance. “Rikiar isn’t interested in me. I am promised to Berner.”

  “He does not spank any more gently,” Aisling murmured.

  “How do you… oh, he was your escort, wasn’t he? Did you get into trouble?”

  “Not on purpose,” Aisling explained. “Just accidentally almost drowned.”

  “Berner wouldn’t like that.”

  “He didn’t,” Aisling confirmed.

  “Did you want your hair loose? It’s so pretty,” Mara said, running her slim fingers through the strands, brushing her nails gently across Aisling’s scalp as she did. The result was a delightful tingling that ran all the way across Aisling’s head and down her neck, sending shivers of delicate pleasure shooting down her spine. It was a platonic touch, but it was not any less alluring for that fact.

  “Princess?”

  “Loose is good,” Aisling eventually said. Mara smiled knowingly and drew her fingers away.

  “I will be your escort around Ravenblack,” she said. “I will show you all that is worth knowing and some that isn’t.”

  Aisling smiled. She could sense that they were about to have a great deal of fun.

  “I brought some dresses for you to wear,” Mara added. “They should fit, but you will soon want your own. Rikiar has given us coin for you to purchase some new fabric and anything else you fancy.
” She lifted up a silk purse and made it jingle with a quick shake.

  The dresses Mara had bought were not of a kind Aisling was familiar with. They were made of what her maidservants back at the palace would have thought of as inferior fabrics, with barbaric touches of leather here and there. But Aisling rather liked them. Though they were simple, they were warm. She picked one that had a leather panel that ran the girth of her midsection and was otherwise made of a soft blue knit fabric that clung very nicely to all her curves.

  “A very good choice,” Mara said, gently tightening the leather ties at the back of the garment. “You have a natural eye for fashion, princess.”

  “Call me Aisling,” Aisling said. She could not go about the place being called princess. Princesses lived in castles. But she no longer did. And she was to marry a chief, not a king. For the moment, she was therefore without title—and glad of it.

  “Aisling,” Mara agreed. “Come, Aisling, let us go to the market.”

  Aisling’s first view of Ravenblack had been colored by her recent kidnapping. She realized as she looked upon it for a second time that it was actually as organized as any castle keep, perhaps more so. It was not just a place for a king to live surrounded by guards; it was a bustling center of commerce serving the needs of those who lived miles around. Mara informed her of that fact when Aisling wondered how so many people could possibly be filling the lower streets.

  “They come in to the markets, sell their wares, buy supplies, and ride out at the end of the day,” Mara said. “That is why we have such a large marketplace.”

  It turned out that Aisling had barely seen a fraction of Ravenblack on her arrival. She had seen a few stalls and thought that was all that was there, but it turned out that those stalls were the last straggling parts of a center of commerce so filled with swirling people and wares that it was quite overwhelming. There must have been fifty permanent stalls and many wandering merchants besides. Aisling estimated that there would have to have been at least five hundred people in the marketplace, more than she’d ever seen in her life.

  “It is quite something, isn’t it?” Mara said sympathetically. “We need not go now. Later on it will be less crowded. Though some of the finer fabrics will be gone.”