Master of Desire (10 page)

When she didn’t answer right away, the crop came down  in a stinging snap  at herhip. She let out a yowl, her entire body jerking.

Their eyes met, her teeth clenched.

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“Whose cock will fuck your mouth, wanton?”

She unclenched, both teeth and body, nipples still tight with pleasure, pussy still

weeping with it. “Yours,” she whispered  meekly, then, remembering, “Ralen.
 
Ralen
.”

“Better,” he murmured, seemingly more to himself than to her, as he resumed  gliding the crop down her other  leg. “Who is your ruler, vixen?”

Her father was the Ruler of all Caralon, of  all who lived here—but she knew that,  truly, this man
 
did
 
rule  her now. “Ralen.”

The crop slid sensually back up her inner  calf, her inner thigh.  Oh, the severe  pleasure of it! It was all she could do not to moan.

“Who does your pussy throb for?”

“Ralen,” she replied shakily, unable to  deny that truth even to herself.

When he raked the soft fringed end of the tool up through her open  cunt, she let out  a trembling cry, the sensation skittering all through her like nothing she’d ever felt—a  tiny earthquake inside her body.

“Who is your husband?” he asked,  gliding the crop across her clit.

She let out another short, hot sigh of pleasure. “Ralen.”

“Your master?” He moved the tip of the  crop in little circles around the anxious nub, forcing her to lift slightly from the table, pressing against it. There was no choice— simply her body’s hungry response.

“Ralen.”

“Your new god, vixen?”

Ares forgive her for the blasphemy. “Ralen.” Even if she could have resisted answering without fear of being whipped, she could
 
not
 
have  without fear of him  taking the crop away from her pussy—which, at the moment, was  unthinkable. She’d never given herself permission to move against the torturous tool, but her body had  taken over—her cunt yearned too badly for stimulation, and the crop delivered it so  delightfully in Ralen’s skilled hand.

“Who do you wish to fuck?” he asked.

“Ralen.” The answer came weakly, for it was growing hard to speak.

“Whose bidding will you do, now and forever?”

A fresh burst of heat  made her  cry out. “Ralen!” The pleasure grew, her  pussy turning swollen, anxious—pleading for release. The sweet crop  stroked her, stroked  her, hard and soft at the same time.

“Whose commands will you follow?”

“Ralen. Ralen!”

He moved the crop so quickly now, lightning fast, at a feverish pace, making hercrazy—and so very near to the orgasm she ached for. She thrust up against it, driving her pelvis in the same fast little lunges. “Say your master’s name, vixen,” he demanded harshly.

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“Ralen!”

“Say it. Again.”

“Ralen! Ralen is my master!”

“Again, wanton!”

She drew in a great gulp of air—once, swiftly—and then  cried out his name on each

breath as the ultimate pleasure crashed down over her, through her.

“
Ralen…Ralen…Ralen
.” Her whole body shuddered as the waves of heat vibrated  through every limb to the very  tips of her fingers and toes—a
 
true
 
earthquake inside her body, racking her entire being. “Ralen,” she whispered one last time in wearied conclusion, her eyes falling shut.

She wanted  to curl into his arms after such a wrenching event—a shame she was chained across a table, and married to a man who would probably never wish to hold her anyway. Thank Ares she’d  closed her  eyes before he could see such emotion passing through them.

She opened them again only  when she realized he was
 
joining
 
her on the table.  Indeed, they bolted open at that, especially when he climbed astride her, one leather-clad knee planted aside each hip, and reached down to begin unlacing his pants.

Her voice quivered when she gave way to  fear and asked, “What are you going to do to me?”

In a flash, he took up the crop and snapped it against the curve of her breast. Theslight sting didn’t hurt so  much as she would have expected, and somehow she felt the strike in her cunt, as well. As intended,  she went silent, waiting…fearing…anticipating what was to come.
 
Ares help me
.

Ralen  was  much  more  aroused  than  he’d  expected  to  be  at  this  point.  Touching  andexploring Teesia with  the crop—watching her body respond, then watching her giveherself over to ecstasy—had set his loins blazing.

He refused to care for the girl in any way—to him, she was still a reckless wantonwho couldn’t be trusted to understand her place in the  world—but he couldn’t deny thepleasure he  would take with her, and
 
in
 
her, either. Somehow, in his fury, he’d forgotten just how deeply he enjoyed mastering a woman, bending her to his will. Already, he knew instinctively he would find  an even greater satisfaction in mastering
this
 
little vixen—and not only  because  she was his wife and clearly
 
needed
 
to be mastered, but for the same reason he’d allowed himself to dip his fingers into the honey-sweet moisture of her pussy that night at Dane’s fortress.  There was something invisible but tangible between them. Some magnetic heat, an attraction that pulled at him, hard and deep.

It had nothing to do with caring, or any sort  of true affection. But it existed just thesame, and it turned him wild inside—wild to  pleasure her even as he tamed her, wild to use her to pleasure himself.

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Now, he wanted her to  feel his power, to understand what he had in store for herand understand it well.  As he finished undoing the lacings of his pants, his cock sprung free.

She flinched—at the mere sight of it or at  its massive size, he didn’t know. But he took a cruel, controlling sort of delight in  the  fear and awe that shone in her eyes as she studied his hard shaft, shooting up some ten thick inches from root to tip. The strength in his rod, the very dimensions of it, filled him with an arrogant pleasure—the pleasure of knowing how intimidating it  looked and the intense joy it could bring. If ever he hadoccasion to doubt his power, in sex, in battle, in governing Charelton, he need only glance down at the very mass  of the tool between his legs to be reminded he was a mighty and dominant man.

“Take a long look at my  cock, vixen,  for soon it will be inside you.”

She let out  a small gasp as he leaned forward just slightly, enough that the weight of his shaft balanced on her chest.

“I will
 
own
 
you with this cock,” he said, his voice going warm and dark with the anticipation  of sinking into  her tight, wet passage below.

Reaching down, he molded his hands around the outer curves of her plump, pretty  breasts, drawing them up around his erection. His low sigh of pleasure mingled with  her higher one of surprise.

“Watch me fuck them,” he instructed, then  sank with slow passion into the  task.  The soft flesh hugged his hardness, forming  a perfect valley to slide in and out of. The  fluid on the tip of his shaft wet her inner curves, making for a moist,  warm path  between. For a long moment, he allowed himself to sink fully into the raw pleasure of  gliding between the two delectable mounds, raking his thumbs over the delightfully  stiff nipples  with each long, thorough stroke, leaning his head back, breathing heavier,  audibly.

It was then that he realized she sighed deeper beneath him, as well, in time with his strokes between her breasts—taking joy from it just as he was. “You
 
already
 
worship this  cock,” he accused with  a devilish hint of a smile.

She didn’t reply. Good for her, as anything  other than his name would have  earned her a crack of the riding crop. But their  eyes met, heat simmering between, and he whispered lowly, “Whose cock do you crave, vixen?”

“Ralen’s,” she whispered back,  her voice surprisingly soft and sweet—almostdocile. Yes, very good.

He almost could have come that way, fucking her lovely breasts,  but was far fromready yet—he had a virgin bride to deflower, after all.

She’d
 
better
 
be a virgin, anyway.

Leaving her ripe breasts, he wrapped his  hand about his length and leaned in toward her face to drag the head across the  seam of her lush lips. She looked nervous—her mouth trembled. He was utterly tempted to  push his way inside  and show her what it was to have her pretty little mouth thoroughly fucked.

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But for a reason he couldn’t explain, he held steady, just letting the tip of his cock play about her dark, berry-colored lips, watching her fearful expression fade  slightly as she grew used to the sensation. “You will  worship it with your mouth soon enough, wanton,” he told her before drawing away.

For now, though,
 
she
 
was to be feasted on—the urge  to know her body better grew inside him with each passing second.

So he eased down her curves until he lay  slanted across her, her breasts jutting into his bare chest, his cock pressing into her hip. As he lowered his mouth to her neck for atender kiss, then a bite, he whispered, “Who do you desire?”

Her answer came breathily, making him even harder. “You, Ralen, you.”

He kissed her mouth then, firm, deep, as he  kneaded the globes of her breasts in both hands. He kept telling himself he didn’t particularly wish to  pleasure her so muchjust yet, but he wanted to take the lovely pink beads of her nipples into his  mouth. Hewanted to touch her everywhere. That much  giving, pleasing,  this soon,  risked the lesson he intended to teach—but damn it all, her curves were too enticing to resist.

He sank down, lowering his mouth over one nipple, beautifully hard on his tongue as he explored the curves of her waist, hips,  thighs, with  eager hands below. He licked, suckled lightly, played  and teased with his mouth, making her whimper and moan above him. He lifted one hand to  the other breast, molding it warmly, then lightly pinching and rolling the delectably pointed peak. She possessed long, prominent nipples that seemed made for play with fingers, teeth, tongue, lips.

At this moment, he thought he could take  joy in his vixen’s breasts for hours, never tiring of the soft, malleable flesh or their hard, jutting centers. Her little cries of pleasure told him she would not tire of it, either, and the odd concept—of pleasuring the both of them in only that one way,  for such a long time—hardened  his already rigid cock even further.

But this  was not that time—no, this was  the time for much, much more than merebreast play. As he continued caressing one of the hot mounds, with his other  hand hereached below, pressing eager fingertips into  the warm moisture of her cunt. So smooth outside, so wet and swallowing within the sweet folds. Her cries of heat echoed upward, growing as he began to stroke the  damp, fleshy ridges and valleys within her slit.

He kissed her neck—a chain of kisses from  one side to the other. He molded her

breast, petted her pussy.

Then he
 
parted
 
her pussy, using his first two fingers, and shifted so the length of his  hungry cock  rested in the wet valley of her cunt.

He rubbed his rod against her, watching her throw her head back in passion, her  arms pulling instinctively at their shackles as  she writhed beneath him. Ares help him,  he took profound, unflinching delight in  seeing her chained and pleasured—it was a  measure of  the beast within him  and he’d never tried to fight it,  for the satisfaction it

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delivered ran too deep. It was his lot in life,  the way Ares had made him, a man born to  make a woman obey.

He rubbed his length deep into her warm, hugging pussy, aware of her clit, swollen  and seeking ecstasy once again. Hungry little wanton.

He dipped to nip his teeth across her nipple, then lightly bit her neck and slid against her until he could tell she was getting close once more, moaning, whimpering,  lifting her body to his,  dirty girl —so he glided his cock  more deeply against her seeking  cunt, until her desperate little cries grew faster, faster, and then he whispered in her ear,  “You’d better hope you’re a virgin, my naughty bride, or there will be a whole new hell  for you to pay.”

As she cried out her ecstasy in beautiful high-pitched shrieks that  fueled his desire,  he rammed  his cock inside her.

Warm. Deep. Her anguished cries—the pleasure  of coming or the pain of entry, he wasn’t sure —permeated him. But she was a  virgin. His bride was a virgin. Lucky for her. And shockingly satisfying for him. No cock but his had ever sunk into this cunt before.

She belonged to him already, and she would come to understand  the depth of that belonging much more—but this was something separate and apart from that. Her pussy was his, only his. Forever.