by Nicole René
“I’m so hungry,” Leawyn groaned, laying on her bed. Xavier paused, shooting her a look from over his shoulder from the spot on the bed he was sitting at.
“You just ate.”
Leawyn rolled her eyes. Men.
“Well, considering I have another life inside of my body, forgive me for being hungry more often. I’m quite aware that I just ate, husband. Thank you for pointing out the obvious, but just as well, I’m still hungry and I want lamb. Did I eat lamb just then?”
It was a rhetorical question, but still her husband opened his dumb mouth. She glared at him, daring him to answer.
He didn’t.
“I’ll see what I can get you.”
“What you’ll ‘get’ me,” she sneered, “is lamb.”
Xavier was looking at her as if she was a sea monster of legend. But wisely, he continued to keep his mouth shut and got up. She expected him to leave, so she was caught off-guard when he grasped her arms and jerked her to him. Her squeal was cut off when he kissed her until she was nearly breathless.
She blinked, dazed. “What—?”
But she didn’t finish. With incredible show of strength, he lifted her so that she was suspended well over his head, her legs draped over his shoulder, and her cunt level with his mouth.
His teeth bit down, moments before his lips wrapped around her flesh and sucked. Hard.
It seemed Xavier wanted to eat before she did.
Her hormones, so primed, it didn’t take her very long to orgasm. He continued to devour her, the sounds he was making as he licked and suckled up her juices made her produce more from how intensely erotic it was. Xavier always ate her like she was the elixir for his life, driving her crazy and making her feel so exquisite that her toes curled.
“Xavier, I—” She choked on her words when pure, hot, ecstasy took over her nerve-endings as she climaxed. She was still coming down when Xavier changed their positions, lowering her down his body until the head of his cock notched into her entrance.
Her legs squeezed around his hips when he pushed inside of her.
“Wrap your arms around my neck,” he ordered on a grunt, to which she quickly obliged. His fingers into the globes of her ass, and his arms muscles bulged as he started to toss her up and down onto his cock.
It was pure strength, being able to handle her weight so effortlessly. The angle was intense, he was deeper inside of her than she felt he ever had been before. Every thrust—every toss—brushed the most sensitive part of her womanhood, stroking her higher and higher until her eyes rolled back into her head.
“You coming for me, little girl?” Xavier panted, extending his neck to nip hers. She could only manage a whimper, her arms squeezing him tight against her. He chuckled darkly, the sound filled with lust and satisfaction.
“I think you are. Naughty girl. That’s twice now you’re going to find release without my permission. Think you deserved to be punished, yeah?”
She shook her head adamantly. His form of punishment varies, but he especially liked to bring her on the brink, only to stop her from ever climaxing. She couldn’t handle that right now. She was so, so close.
“No, please don’t sto—”
Her kissed her, swallowing her moan as she came, shuddering against him. Her release flooded out of her and dripped over his cock that was still embedded inside of her. Her legs unclamped from his waist, leaving Xavier to hold her suspended.
He took a step forward, twisting her in his arms until she was on her hands and knees on their bed.
He gripped her hip with one hand, and dove the other between her legs. She shivered when she felt him brush her slick flesh before delving inside of her. She looked over her shoulder, watching as he used the juices he stole to rub his already slick cock, paying attention to the head.
His eyes met hers, and she swallowed at what she saw.
He leaned over her, kissing her hungrily. It was over before she could think of kissing him back. His grip on her hip changed, became more dominating instead of tender.
“Xavier…” she said uncertainty. He ignored her, his eyes focused on her behind. He brushed a thumb against her puckered hole.
“Who do you belong to?”
“You.”
He rewarded her answer by brushing his finger against her again.
“Who owns you?”
She firmed her lips. This was one question she loathed. It earned her a sharp slap on her bottom. She yelped.
“Who owns you?” He enunciated the question with a hard slap to her other cheek.
“You!” She cried, arching her back when he gave two more smacks. “I belong to you.”
“That’s right,” he purred, rubbing the irritated skin of her behind. “You do belong to me, little girl. Now, and until you die. But even in death, I’ll find you.”
“Xavier,” she groaned, when he dipped his thumb into the hole that he had only played with a few times before. Going deeper than he’s ever dared.
“Which means this is my body to own and possess,” he said, starting to move his thumb in and out of her. “I can do whatever I want to it,” he continued, pulling his thumb out only to replace it with his finger. She hissed, her shoulders bunching at the intrusion. “I can take whatever hole you possess that pleases me—and right now I want this one, Leawyn.”
Her breaths became unstable, and she could only close her eyes when he reached out to her, yanking her head back by her hair. His lips breathed fire against her ear.
“I’m going to take your virgin asshole, my sweet wife. Stuff my cock inside of that tiny hole until its filled to the brim with my come and you’re as filthy as I am. And I’ll enjoy every bit of it.”
“Oh, Gods,” she groaned, falling forward onto her elbows when he released his hold on her. She heard that men sometimes preferred to take women in their ass. She has seen as such, sometimes with the girl withstanding two men inside of her body at once. But she had naively thought that Xavier wouldn’t take her in that forbidden place.
She should have known better.
She jerked when he spit, rubbing his saliva onto her untouched territory, and again onto what she could only assumed was his palm. He was making his member as wet as possible for his act. She supposed it was his version of a small mercy.
She tensed when he gripped both her cheeks, spreading them wide open.
“Relax,” he murmured. She felt the tip of him against her opening, but he didn’t penetrate. Simply rocked against her in mock thrusts.
“Easy for you to say.”
He chuckled.
He continued to rock against her, occasionally putting more pressure, but never enough for him to slip in. It was a tactic to get her to relax, and it worked. But she knew the moment he decided he was done, because he aligned himself, and then he was pushing the head of his cock into her body.
It was pure fire, agony. It didn’t feel good at all.
She yelped, reaching behind her on instinct but he shackled her wrists behind her back.
“Xavier, I can’t,” she gasps, tears leaking from the corner of her eyes as he pressed in farther. Gaining another inch. “It hurts!”
“Shh,” he soothed. He went deeper. “It will be over soon.”
It was a lie. With each inch he eased inside her, she felt like her insides were being burned alive. By the time he finally bottomed out, she was shaking and gasping for breath.
His pelvis was flush against the meat of her bottom, and he stretched over her so that his chest was against his back. He was panting like her, and she could feel the dampness of sweat on his chest.
“You’re such a good girl,” he whispered against her skin. He peppered kisses against the nape of her neck and the juncture of her collarbone. He continued to whisper praises to her, neither extracting or nor inserting himself more inside of her.
Though the pain never ebbed, it wasn’t as sharp as when he first started. That is, until he started to move.
He started off slow, letting
her try and get used to the foreign sensation.
“You’re so damn tight,” Xavier moaned as he withdrew from her body, only thrust back in with more force. Like he couldn’t help himself. She groaned.
“You feel so good. So sweet around my cock as your body squeezes it; trying to get rid of it. But I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to keep thrusting into you until your traitorous body remembers that every single bit of it belongs to me. You might be my wife, but your body is my whore. Isn’t that right?”
What he was saying was disgusting. Demeaning. More so in the fact that he believed every single word of it. She wanted to fight. To scream her denial. But it would be fruitless. By their way of life, she was his wife and her body was his whore—free for him to take either which way he wanted.
Female independence raged at the knowledge, but the darkness of trained lust screamed in acceptance. It was sick pleasure that disgusting words inflicted, which was evidence in the way her nipples puckered. The way she shivered and the way her body relaxed and twisted the pain into pleasure. This act hurt. It didn’t feel good, but then it did. She felt too full, and too empty all at once.
“Xavier!” she cried when he thrust hard into her and simultaneously pinched her swollen nub with his fingers.
“That’s it, scream for me,” Xavier rasped, as he continued to impale himself inside of her. “Let the village hear what a naughty girl you are. I want every man to know that my cock is about to fill your pretty little asshole with my come.”
It was the only foreshadowing he gave her, because in the next moment he gripped both her hips and started to ram his cock furiously inside of her ass until his skin was slapping against her own, and her breasts swayed with each violent jerk.
Soon, her elbows couldn’t support her weight and Xavier followed her down as she collapsed forward, the fur blankets privy to her screams and moans.
Xavier was groaning from above her, and she knew he was close when he started to curse her name and how good she felt.
“Shit,” he grunted, and then he stilled above her and she felt him jet inside of her.
He held her to him for long moments, then slowly peeled himself off her. She whimpered when his softening member slipped free from her body.
“So damn beautiful,” he growled. She couldn’t see him, but she knew he was looking at the evidence of his release. Gentle fingers spread her cheeks apart, and she squeezed her eyes shut in embarrassment. The slow trickle down her crack made her shift restlessly. His whispered approval did nothing to lessen her mortification and she was relieved when he finally stood.
She heard him move, and then his fingers were rubbing against her lips. Her eyes peeled open, colliding with his lust-filled ones.
“Say it,” he ordered in a rasp. Her brows furrowed, confused at the glimpse of anxiety she caught in his gaze. His expression shuttered, and the energy around him changed.
“Say it, Leawyn.”
“I love you.”
Her confusion only grew when his body relaxed, and he let out a sigh that could pass as relieved. He picked her up gingerly, settling himself inside of their bed. He didn’t offer to clean her up from his release, and she knew that in a sick way he found pleasure in her having it on her skin. He pulled her against her chest and ordered her to sleep.
She listened.
Xavier watched Leawyn sleep. She had been quick to slumber, his body having exhausted hers. He knew that she was going to be sore tomorrow, and the knowledge both pleased and disgusted him.
He had warned her before that he would claim her ass one day. It was foolish to think otherwise. His need for his wife was never sated. He could never get enough of her. It was a fact, but…
He lost control.
His obsession and his insane lust for Leawyn took over his mind, until all he could think about was owning her again. The beast inside of him was released from its cage and it devoured it’s prey.
It was only until her metaphorical blood was dripping down it’s teeth did the haze lift, and he realized what he had done. This act of lovemaking was painful. He knew that. He jad planned to to train Leawyn to enjoy it, to trick her body into accepting the feeling of him inside her. To have her lean that though anal could cause pain at first, it could and will eventually lead to a different, special kind of pleasure.
He was supposed to ease her into it. To go slow. Gentle.
He lifted the covers from off her body, turning her so that her bottom was bared to his gaze once again. He could see the stain of his come, the redness on the pale flesh from his palm.
When he had stood in front of her, and seen what she looked like…he knew he had done the thing he promise he would never do again.
Fear captured his heart, squeezed his lungs when she didn’t answer him right away. The pressure only eased when she finally uttered the words he needed to hear as desperately as he needed to breathe.
He released the blankets and turned his gaze away.
Never again, he promised himself.
But he knew it was a lie.
“I can’t let you kill him.”
“Everything will be okay, Lea. I’m going to take care of you.”
“You killed innocent people.”
“They didn’t belong.”
“Do I not belong?”
“Of course, you belong, Lea.”
Relief. She felt relief.
Until she didn’t.
“We’ll rule our people together.”
Numb.
She shook her head, felt the tear slip down her cheek.
She was sore for days.
The reasoning for her soreness was mortifying, even if it the memory made her hot. Xavier had taken mercy on her and has not tried to make love to her in that way for the last few weeks. In fact, his lovemaking had changed completely. It was like he was a different person, because he never demanded. Never exuded force. When they would have sex, it would be almost virginal. She couldn’t understand it.
That was not like Xavier.
But she couldn’t deny that she was grateful in part for the small respite, because she didn’t think she would ever be ready for him to take her like the animals do again. Between her pregnancy sickness, and sex-induced-sickness, she had severely lacked in her duties as lady chief. So when she was finally able to get out of bed without wincing with each step, she started her day. First, she checked on the horses and livestock, as well as met with Aggod, the village healer, to ask for some herbs that helped ease fatigue. She was delayed when she had to settle a civic dispute, and break up a fight between two brothers fighting over the same girl. Which settled when said girl offered herself up to them both.
At the same time.
She shook her head with a wry smile. Sometimes, she swore that she was living in the Siraces village—where that kind of union was more commonplace—instead of the Izayges. Upon reaching the market square, Leawyn made a point to visit every merchant. The tradition started when Namoriee had dragged her out here early into her marriage. She had told her how there hadn’t been a lady chief of the Izayges for a long time, and that her village people were desperate to know her, if not a bit untrusting.
She made it her mission after that to try and know every single one of the people inhabiting her large tribe and gain their trust individually.
She smiled at Tutor, the old clay maker and one of her favorite merchants to talk to.
“You’re looking well today, Tu. Your wife must be taking good care of you.”
Tutor, whose hair would have been white had he not shaved it all off, waved a hand that was wrinkled and hardworking at her.
“Bah!” he spat. “Old bat won’t leave me alone, she will.”
Said old bat, whacked him with a damp cloth, scowling down at him. “Ya don’t die!” Yinna exclaimed. “Drop dead and maybe I will, eh?”
Tutor glowered, looking every bit displeased and grouchy, but he couldn’t hide his fondness for Yinna if his life depended on it. She shook
her head in amusement, placing payment in one of the clay pots crafted.
“Oh no yer don’t, Lady Chief!” Yinna yelled after her, trying scoop up her payment and catch up to her already walking form. “Ya always be placing payment without a purchase. I will not be having it!”
“Goodbye, you two. See you again in a week!” Leawyn laughed. She ignored as they tried to argue with her, but then ended up arguing with themselves. Yinna and Tutor had a good business. Clay pots and jugs were wildly important, but she knew that Tutor’s hands have started to ache him more than he could start to handle. She couldn’t stand the thought of him pushing through his joint pain more than he had to.
Xavier and Leawyn usually didn’t have to buy or want for anything. But she didn’t want to be the kind of lady chief that just took from her people, without giving anything back. Which is why she always made a point to pay for services that she didn’t render.
Strong arms wrapped around her waist, and before she could react, they lifted her up in a hug, squeezing her half to death.
“Beautiful! When are you going to leave your husband and come to me, eh?”
“Tyronian, welcome back!” Leawyn beamed once she was back on her feet, shading her eyes from the sun with her hand. “How was the Siraces?”
Tyronian, her only fellow tribesmen who shared her blonde hair, shrugged. “It was well. They weren’t attacked like we were so nothing much has changed upon their return.”
Leawyn made a sound of acknowledgement, studying him. It had been a few weeks since she had last seen him. Although he greeted her in the same cheeky way he always did, he looked troubled. His lips that were usually easily pulled back into a smile were downturned, and his eyes held a sadness that she didn’t like.
She rested her hand on his forearm, quietly requesting his attention. He was scanning the village-port, which was always the hubbub of activity in the Izayges.
“Why do you torture yourself so,” she asked quietly. “Why don’t you just claim her?”
Want flashed in his blue-orbs before they settled desolately. “I made a promise,” he answered quietly, almost to himself.
