by Wyatt, Dani
Your throat will know the full length of my cock, how far down you’ll take me. Your ass will know it as well, along with the burn on my hand print, your pussy will drip with what I give it. You will take me everywhere, anywhere I choose, begging me for what you need…
She shook her head and looked down at the ground, cheeks flaring. “When I look at you, Bors, it’s hard for me to remember anything at all. Next to you, I don’t know…I feel silly. Even stupid, like my brain has long since failed and I’m left with an empty head and a simpleton’s tongue.”
“Not stupid. Never call yourself stupid. You hear me?” I gripped her chin, turning her head up to face me. “Never call yourself that again.”
Her lips fell open as she stared, then she nodded. “Okay.”
“I don’t ever want to hear that word from you. Now, tell me more.”
She did as she was told, and as we walked and talked, she asked me things as well.
To my surprise, I told her of my plans—of the livery stable, of my hopes to buy a bit of land. I held back from disclosing my plans for her. How everything had changed since I saw her that morning, how my life would now include her, and like a runaway carriage there was no way of stopping it.
“That sounds like a wonderful life,” she said.
“And you? What kind of wonderful life do you envision?”
The sun caught the otherworldly green of her eyes. “I have always thought I was destined to look after my family. Seems to be the role I was born to fill. I am lucky in many ways to have them. So many have no one.”
The resignation in her voice bit into me like angry fangs, but I didn’t want to press her to speak ill of her family. I wanted to make her do a lot of things, but betraying her kin wasn’t one of them.
“But if that wasn’t the role you had to fill, then what?” I ventured.
“A modest house full of laughter and warmth. Freshly baked bread,” she said, beaming. “A farmyard with a miniature donkey. No, two miniature donkeys, a boy and a girl, then baby miniature donkeys.” Her laughter floated with the breeze and set her deeper into my heart. “And goats for milking. A flock of bantam chickens like my own at home…” Her wistful look turned excited. “Oh! And a garden. With every kind of flower in the land.”
“And a man? A husband?”
She held her next breath, looking up at me. Pressing her hand to her collarbone, she said, “Oh yes, a husband. And children. If I could, in my dream I mean.”
My cock throbbed like an angry toothache as my pulse spun into a frenzy, sending flashes of red through my vision.
“How many children? In this dream of yours…” I asked, and watched her cheeks flush crimson at the thought. I found myself biting my lip as I watched her. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t already thinking of putting a baby inside her belly; her hips made it hard to think about anything else.
“Lots and lots and lots,” she said. “As many as possible.”
Shit. She’s going to kill me before I even get her home.
Our chatter slowed as the now-derelict forge came into view, I looked down the road and my chest tightened, fists balling at my sides.
The bastard who’d ambushed Sara at Angelica’s, still covered in dried pig shit but somewhat cleaner around his face, was closing the front gate of the house that stood beside the crumbling ruin.
“Oh no.” Sara squeezed my arm as she stared at the man. “I thought he seemed familiar, but I couldn’t place him. He must have recognized me. Known my father. Perhaps one of his drinking friends.”
“I told you already, I won’t let anything happen to you, Sara. Not now, not ever.”
The shit-covered man took a quarter turn, spotted me, and made the wise decision to head the other way, disappearing into the woods on the other side of the road.
Sara drew a jagged breath through her nose. “My father will be so angry. You don’t know him.”
“No harm will come to you. Trust me sweet Sara.” I did my best to keep the already bubbling rage from my voice lest I scare her more.
“I do, it’s just…”
“Just nothing. Stay by my side.” The fear in her voice and in her trembling chin only spun the murderous fury I already felt into a ball of hate growing in my centre.
As we came upon the small, ill-kept stone house, I unlatched the gate and held it open as a man I presumed to be her father burst through the front door with evil in his eyes.
“You little slut,” he snarled. “So that’s how you’ve been earning your extra coin, is it? Opening your legs?” He leapt forward as I reacted, but before I could stop him, he grabbed Sara hard by the face and began to unbuckle his belt for a whipping. “I’ll show you a lesson, you little whore-in-training. I’ll teach you to…”
Motherfucker. Death was too good for him.
He only had a second of his hand on her before I got to him. I was an animal protecting his mate in that moment—nothing more, nothing less. I felt my knuckles connect with something that crunched under the force of my blow, and felt the familiar slippery warmth of blood on my hands, the scent of iron and salt barely cutting through my rage-fueled haze.
I heard Sara’s yelp, her pleading voice, but some things are between men.
For me, the fury of close quarters fighting was impenetrable. It had always been that way. Tactically, I could plan and move and pick off my enemy, cold and calculated as any commander I’d ever known. But once I was in the melee of fists and blood and blows, I no longer had control of my senses. But as soon as Sara touched my shoulder, something changed. That battle-craze faded and I heard her, heard her words.
“Bors, stop. Stop it.” Her calm yet firm voice cut through the fog.
Her delicate touch and gentle words had more power than my long-honed instincts as a fighter, living to protect and defend. Her voice was a balm, the only thing that could break me from the moment.
Her father lay at my feet, his nose bloodied and crooked. But he was a scrappy fighter and he returned on a groan to his feet and spit out a tooth.
“Who the hell do you think you are? She’s my daughter.” He spat the words at me with blood dripping over his lips, cracking his knuckles, ready for more. “She’s my property. And I’ll do with her as I please.”
“The fuck you will,” I spat back. “I came here for one purpose and one purpose only. To deliver a warning.”
“A warning?” His face screwed up in confusion. “From who?”
“From me. You don’t deserve her. From now on, she’s under my protection and in my care. This is no longer her home. You come near her with intentions of anything but kindness and reverence, you’ll find out what lies on the other side of this life for you. And I doubt it’s heaven.”
Sara let out a gasp. She seemed to be trying to find words as she blinked her eyes, a small smile playing on her lips. “What do you mean?”
I took her by the back of her head, holding her just hard enough so she understood who she belonged to now. “Tell me it’s not what you want too. Or just say yes.”
“Yes.” The single word, barely a whisper lit up something inside of me I thought long dead.
Hope.
She grinned, throwing her arms around me, shot her father a withering glance, and muttered, “Goodbye, father.” She looked down where she still held the basket in her hands dropping it on the ground. “You will need to find someone else to peddle your wares at the market.”
I breathed deep, knowing upon this moment, my life turned. I clasped her delicate hand in my ogre’s fist and turned us back around. Thoughts of her womanly curves and childlike dimple nearly surging spend from the crown of my already-swollen cock.
I’d said what I came to say, and now I was taking my prize.
Bors
I kept Sara’s small hand tight in mine and never strayed from her side as we walked back the way we came.
As we walked, I did my best to calm my mind. Rage does not make for clear thinking. How such a piece of shit could hav
e given life to Sara beat the hell out of me. All I could imagine was that she took after her mother, but from what Angelica had told me, I guessed that woman was no better.
I wished that I had a home of my own, somewhere I could take her, to guard her, protect her, and give her a better life. To make love to her every morning and fuck her every night.
But for now I didn’t have such luxuries. All I had to offer was the clothes on my back, the bit of coin I’d saved through my years, my strength, and my wits. The only shelter I could give her was Angelica’s house.
It would have to do, at least for now.
I looked down, her youth and innocence clearer now than ever, drawing attention to the age gap, my jaded soul, my battle-scarred body.
“Thank you,” she said, squeezing my hand as we neared Angelica’s cottage and the sun drifted downward on the horizon. “Nobody has ever stood up for me like that before.”
Mine, my mind growled. You’re mine. If I can’t protect what’s mine, I don’t deserve to keep you.
“You should have been your family’s pride and joy, not treated like a servant and spoken to like a…” I fell silent, not willing to utter the word.
Sara nodded. “A dog. I know. He’s worse than you realize, but that’s behind me now. It is, isn’t it?” She turned and met my eyes. “It is behind me?”
“Long behind you,” I agreed. “Tonight, you’ll stay in my room.” I pulled open the gate and handed her the key in my pocket. “First one at the top of the steps.”
She looked puzzled, taking the key. “But you’ll come up with me? Stay close to me?”
I shook my head. She had no fucking idea what would happen if we were alone together in that bedroom. I’d have her on her knees and I’d be roaring in five seconds flat.
“Just put my things in the hallway and I’ll have Angelica collect them later.”
I didn’t want to worry her, but I knew I’d gotten us into some genuinely inconvenient shit: I’d assaulted her father, stolen his daughter, and now was keeping her hidden in the home of a woman the proper village folks found distasteful at best.
I’d seen what a poor reputation had done to Angelica, even with me by her side, and didn’t want the same for Sara. There had been no other choice. Her father had to learn. But that didn’t change facts.
She frowned. “You’re protecting me from gossip. Is that the idea?”
“Gossip fades, you have me to protect you now. I don’t give a shit what anyone thinks.”
She looked ready to protest, but I stopped her short with a firm stare.
“If your father comes looking for you, I’ll be ready. If a village mob gets word that I’ve just returned to town and all but kidnapped you, I’ll be ready. To keep you safe, I’m ready for anything.”
She blinked a few times in quick succession, then exhaled deeply. “And where will you sleep?”
From my belt, I drew my hunting knife and drove the point into an old milking bench on the porch, then sat down next to it. “No sleep. I’ll stay right here. On guard.”
* * *
Afternoon turned into evening and the shadows lengthened into night. Every few hours or so, Angelica would come to check on me, bringing me an apple or a bit of bread and butter. She knew me well enough not to try to lure me inside. I was grateful to be left alone with my thoughts, like some lion licking his wounds.
Sara, though, didn’t come down at all. I heard her voice inside, and even a brief moment of laughter between her and Angelica, but she never came out to see me. I had no right to be disappointed, either—it was my idea that I stay outside, and she was doing as she was told. And fuck, every thought I had was of making her do as she was told. Making her follow my commands. To see my cock in her mouth, sweet hands massaging my balls while those green eyes looked up into mine like I was her fucking king.
As the moon rose, I settled down on the porch floor with a blanket and a sack of barley under my head for a pillow. I’d made do with less comfort while on watch for more years than I could count.
But never, in all those years, had I felt such a sense of purpose.
The night was cool and quiet, and while I remained vigilant, I allowed my eyes to close for a moment, thoughts drifting to the living dream lying just upstairs…
No sooner had I done so than the front door creaked open.
My lids sprung wide, and in the dim light I expected to see Angelica checking on me once more. But there, in the warm flickers of the low fire inside, was Sara.
Goddamn it, she was heaven’s own version of beautiful. She wore what must have been one of Angelica’s nightdresses. It hugged her tits and ass in a way that only grew my cock three more inches as I looked her over.
Her waist was narrow, her hips generous, full, and soft. Her tits nearly spilled out from an embroidered, low neckline, the gauzy fabric giving me a tantalizing glimpse of dark nipples beneath.
“I don’t like you out here,” she said.
I raised up on my elbow to get a better look at her, my mouth dry as my gaze drifted along the silhouette of her thighs beneath the light material. “You’re not getting rid of me.”
“I don’t like you out here, Bors. Please, come inside. Please come to bed. Surely we can share without…or maybe just to be next to each other. Please, I’d like that very much.” She extended her hand while kneeling down.
My willpower was shot. From the instant I’d laid eyes on her, I had been denying my most basic needs. The battle that raged inside me had been fucking relentless; I was strong, but I wasn’t made of iron. I needed to know her, from the fucking inside out.
And I needed it now.
* * *
I shut the bedroom door behind us, and I led her over to the bed. The room was almost pitch dark, but somehow the moonlight found her, casting a milk-white glow over her already-pale skin.
“Are you afraid?” I asked.
“No,” she said, too quickly to be believable, her voice trembling.
I slid my hand down her hips, making her squirm against my touch, and cupped her ass cheek hard in my palm. “You fucking should be.”
Her dark lashes glinted sharp in the moonlight. “Yes,” she said. “I’m afraid. I don’t care. Take me. I want to know what it feels like to be taken. By you…”
My cock throbbed and twitched, and I pressed it hard against her hip. “You won’t be able to stop me once I start. Tell me you understand that.”
She nodded, her eyes wide.
“Say it.”
Her breaths came heavy as her voice drifted to my ears. “I understand that you won’t be able to stop once you start.”
I cupped her pussy and she gasped, rising onto her tiptoes, her eyes wide. She was already fucking soaked; I could feel it through her night dress.
“But once I ruin you, I promise I will put you back together, Sara. I will break you to make you whole. For me. For us.” I took her face in my hands and kissed her firm and slow, exploring her mouth, getting lost in her sweet sounds.
It intoxicated me to know that no other man had done any of these things. Her virgin lips, her virgin moans, the tight stretch of her virginity around my dick as I ripped into her…the thought was that of an animal but I didn’t careall of it was fucking mine.
I slid my fingers up from her soaked cunt, and took her nipple through the fabric, gripping it between my thumb and forefinger. “I will never hurt you more than you need to be hurt. Ever. You have my word.”
“Oh, God. That…but that hurts!” She wriggled against the pain, her eyes fluttering shut and her lips parting. Her body responded and I knew in that instant that I was the luckiest motherfucker in the world. “And…yet good.”
The tight knot of her perky nipple poked out against the semi-transparent fabric of her nightdress, and I couldn’t hold back any longer. I yanked it down off her shoulders and let it drop to the floor. There she stood in front of me, in all her perfection and glory.
“Fuck, Sara,” I said, taking her in
as my balls pulsed, ready to deliver a bucket of seed into her at the sight. “You are the most beautiful woman God ever created.”
She laughed softly and covered her breasts with her forearm. I didn’t like it. Her embarrassment had no place with me. I didn’t want her modesty—I wanted her raw and unfiltered need.
I pulled her arm by the wrist, placing it at her side. “Never cover yourself in front of me,” I growled.
She swallowed hard on a nod.
“Good.” I took her in again and sank down on the bed, sitting on the edge as she stood while I explored her with my gaze. Here and there, her body was covered with small, delicate beauty marks and I reached forward, hands on her lush hips, pulling her to within reach of my mouth.
I moved to kiss and lick each one of them as she squirmed and hummed, giggling when I set my teeth into a ticklish spot just above her hip, making me harder still, impossible as that would seem.
There was one above her left breast, one on her right thigh, one on the rim of her bellybutton. Beneath her left breast was a slight discoloration. On her right buttock was a mark that guided my lips to the soft warmth of her rear entrance. Her imperfections only made her more beautiful to me. Her body was a vision, and her long dark hair set off the whiteness of her skin.
I drew her to me with one hand on her ass, making sure my fingers dug into the crease between her ass cheek and her thigh. She gathered up my shirt and pulled it over my head. In the moonlight, she traced the scars on my shoulder and chest.
“You’ve been through a lot,” she said, a sadness flickering in her jewelled eyes.
I pressed my head against her chest, and taking one breast in my hand, guided her nipple into my mouth. She let loose a soft, feline growl as I sucked, then slowly, with one finger, I parted the lips of her pussy and her body trembled.
Her silky flesh soaked me as a flood of possessiveness and lust drove my pulse rate higher and my balls drew tight. Her scent filled my nose and my world.
