Huntsman I: Princess

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Huntsman I: Princess Page 2

by Leona D. Reish


  Not three steps after turning, a figure bumped into his side on unsteady legs. A quick arm stopped her falling and losing her tray, holding the long-eared serving girl up against him. He could feel her tense in his grasp, quivering slightly with expectation. Had she intentionally done such a thing to make herself known? No, the glisten in her eyes was genuine enough as he straightened her and cupped her cheek to bring her timid gaze up.

  “Easy, now, head high. You do good work, so steady your legs.” His words came in a deep, low tone that she could hear perfectly well over the clamour around them. It seemed to reverberate through her body with that depth, but ten paces distant, the sound would have struck silent.

  Mikhael patted the girl’s cheek gently and stepped aside to give her space before passing, leaving the bewildered maid to stare after his heavy shadow. The Knight-Commander, Ranvald Berntsen snickered from his table, sloshing the shallow remnant of his mead in the bottom of its mug as he waved the girl over.

  ‘Charm the girls like that and they won’t care if you don’t make the first move, Huntsman.’ Ranvald thought to himself, nodding to the girl as she took the tall mug away. ‘There’s always the princess to set your sight on.’ his thought continued, trailing off to nothings.

  Back outside, the sky was darkening to twilight already. People ran around lighting torches and applying globe lights to keep the streets laminated through darkfall. The beasts and procession that followed them had long since passed, and people went about their business as normal. Snow was beginning to fall again, as if the stars above would not permit clouds to cover them, and instead shot through the clouds. It paved the streets with a new layer of white and put a hypnotic shimmer in the air.

  As beautiful as it was, Mikhael had business elsewhere, and simply trudged through the bustling streets, out of the city. Gate guards and watchtowers gave him passage with well wishes as he went – his persona was unmistakable to any but the newest of recruits, and for those he bore the royal seal, etched into his left forearm. One of Her Majesty’s most trusted.

  “Fair night, my lord! Returning to the wilds so soon?” A jovial sort for a guard asked at the outer gate as it was clanked open. Mikhael frowned and nodded a touch, waiting patiently. He’d never quite accepted the titles and brow-knuckling of proud men to him.

  “Aye, the hunt took some time, stability of the men’s lives was more important than continuing the route further out. Even then we cut close but I’ve several traps unchecked and don’t do well to sleep within the city every night.” Mikhael explained, shrugging the heavy mantle and waiting.

  “Aye, well take care out there. With the Blackguard quelled, the wolves are out.” The guard explained, leaving the Huntsman to grit his teeth and bite his tongue behind a smoothed out twist of a smile.

  “Fair night, gatekeeper.” The Huntsman offered, and was gone into the wilderness beyond. Not ten minutes out, on the verge of the snowy forest, the first of wolves howled into the night. Whether in greeting, warning, to thank for removing the Blackguards or of no relevance to his presence, Mikhael could not say. He was here to survey traps, tracks and return to his lodging within the woods. The mountain wilds would not be bothered by his presence.

  Traipsing into the sheer darkness of the canopied forest, Mikhael slowed to give his eyes time to adjust to the lack of light so that he might see the world around him as it was. The forest was a vast thing, but he knew where the few traps he had set around his lodging were, and did not need to check on the few others tonight. Checking for tracks informed the Huntsman of traffic and species within the wild, like reading a visitor log for an inn. Among the standard pads of beasts were another, interesting set of footprints walking away from the city – human tracks.

  The treads were slightly smaller, thinner, but with a decent gait to the steps. They looked to be a woman by size, alone, and in a rush by the spacing. That Mikhael’s own walking stride would cover more distance between steps reinforced the concept that the steps were fast, almost jogging with a smaller frame than the average for men.

  Blackguards quelled or not, to be alone in the night was to welcome danger. The Huntsman’s pace matched and overtook those steps, fresh enough to be within the time since darkfall began, when the skies dimmed and the streets bustled. A good time to move unnoticed. The footsteps lead him in the direction of his home within the wilds. As was to be expected, the traps along the way were clear of beasts. Little dared the woods when Blackguards roamed, and the beasts were loud enough to make their presence known for miles around.

  That was to say, all traps but one was vacant. Entering a larger clearing, Mikhael raised a brow to the sight that greeted him and could not help but laugh, making his breath wisp and cloud up in front of his face. A hooded figure was trapped in one of his stronger binding traps, designed to trap and raise large animals, strong enough to keep them from twisting around, biting and swiping the tough leather. It almost looked like a comfortable hammock of straps, if not for how the figure squirmed and tugged at the awkward twist that saw feet higher than the hood.

  Hands lay locked together by the wrist above the head, legs splayed out far to the side above, leaving the poor figure face-down in a tangled mess. From the captive’s size, the path leading into the clearing and the distinctively feminine grunts, he had been tracking this woman. What made it all the more interesting was she didn't seem to have much on underneath the snuggly tangled fur cloak, showing off a leg of bare skin above heavy tracking boots that matched the trail to a bare thigh.

  “Well well, what do we have here?” Mikhael asked, rounding on the trapped woman with his amusement clear. Whining and squirming in the strong leather trap, the captive woman growled and bit her lip, not daring to face him. Obviously, a young human female wasn't any match for the Royal Huntsman's traps, but to have his voice filling the cold night air made her cheeks heat under the furry hood.

  “You know fine well, Mikhael…” The captive woman explained, her tone sharp and near as cold as the air. Giving a deep, rich laugh from aside her, Mikhael closed in behind the captive to rest a hand on her shoulders, squeezing and sizing up the fur-cloaked figure as he hummed deep in his throat. She was just as the tracks defined her. Smaller frame, nimble but firm with just enough muscle in the figure to keep the pace comfortably. She didn’t have nearly enough strength to struggle out of his trap, however.

  “Truth, do I, now? A wily beast with a wicked tongue, it seems. I can't imagine anything else being out here in these hours, certainly not looking like this.” He spoke, softly with a curious tone. Running his hand up her back, through the various bindings and leather holstering her in the air, he could feel the care and quality in her cloak. The fur bristled with beauty and pride the way the stiffened back beneath it did, the owner struggling and grouching at him.

  “If you don’t get me down, I’ll show you wicked!” She blustered, the ice in her tone melting under his hand to give way to breathy steam as she struggled and whined quietly. Moving behind his captive, Mikhael only smiled quietly at the flash of skin left on show. The Huntsman could not help but run a broad hand down the exposed thigh, stroking from knee to her inner thigh before slowing. Much deeper and he would slip under the cloak to where he doubted she had any undergarment on.

  “Mmngh, this instant! Stop touching and get me down!” The woman demanded, doing her best to squirm and try to kick at the tall man behind her, though her foot never moved more than a couple of inches. Stuck helplessly under his perusal, her temper was growing as hot as her cheeks behind the cowl. She would not let him make sport of her over this! She would not get aroused!

  Unclasping the back of the trap, Mikhael eased the captive woman’s legs down gently, leaving her to hang leaning forward with her hands high above her head. Not much improved, but enough that she could see his face as he rounded on her with a quietly playful grin on his face.

  “Oh aye, vicious creature ever I did see one.” He commented, putting a hand into the cowl to cup her
hidden cheek and push the cowl back. As he did, a soft, almost cute stab of pain shot up his hand. Pushing the cowl off her head revealed a beautiful, softly rounded face with sharp brown eyes glaring daggers up at the Huntsman framed by rich, glossy brown hair that brushed her brow and covered her ears. She had bitten his hand, and held his thumb between her lips in fanged teeth.

  The Huntsman did not seem to mind it at all and even chuckled softly, stroking the rest of his hand against her cheek as she lunged and took more of the digit between her lips. Letting the woman have her way, he even hushed and cooed to soothe her, bringing his other hand up to pet her head. The woman grumbled but lowered her eyes, squeezing on his thumb more tenderly as he waited for her to be finished and release it.

  “Shh, it’s alright now.” He hushed, leaving her to gnaw and suckle on his finger slowly with her eyes lidded. She seemed to relax into a content state there, pressing her head against his chest as she suckled and as far as twisted her tongue around the finger endearingly, squeezing on his taste and enjoying the feel of having something between her lips.

  Mikhael knew the woman could be very dangerous when provoked, as the glare she had held was a good sign of, but she was as easy to soothe as rile. Nuzzling in on the finger, the tied up girl couldn’t help but shiver and squirm from the chill of the snowy night. It made sense, with how little she was wearing and the heated adrenaline washing out of her.

  Cupping and blowing warm air onto his free hand, the Huntsman reached down into the heavy robe covering her, finding and gently squeezing on the supple mound of a breast within to warm her. Her immediate reaction was to bite down on his finger harder, gasping and growling a soft moan of pleasure in the back of her throat as her eyes lit up, glowering up at him as he kneaded and stroked his hand in a slow, circular motion.

  “Hmm, aye, I'll have to be careful getting this one trussed. Easy now, shh.” He hushed, soothing her with tone and a firm edge to his tenderness as he would any beast. The sudden addition of warmth in his hand on her chilled breast was more than enough to make the woman squirm and melt into his embrace, making her jerk, twitch and pull on the bondage around her to be free.

  Against it, his hand grew more firm, asserting his grip and dominance over her as she flexed and sunk her teeth into his finger. She couldn’t help but whine and tremble under his affection, blushing furiously and trembling. Her toes curled inside her boots, hands clenching as she glared half-heartedly at her secret lover, the only man to tame her. Knowing that, his teasing way with her was infuriating on her needy, chilled body.

  “Mmm, looks like that works.” He teased, finding the nipple to brush his fingers around and pinch, twisting and tugging it away from her trapped body before letting go with a light smack of flesh slipping from his fingers and whimper of a squeal from deep in her throat. The heat in her eyes was draining out into her body with every moment, but she still tried to give him her best glower while sinking a sharper fanged tooth into the thumb. That the skin did not break infuriated her as much as it comforted her.

  He was big, rough and unbreakable as far as she was concerned. Her indomitable Huntsman. She couldn’t help but soften the glare in her eyes as she drew on the finger. She wouldn’t have him any other way.

  Stepping in closer, the Huntsman seemed to understand as much from the look in her eyes as the rest of her body’s language, sliding his hand down her side to press her teased breasts and face against his chest in a loving embrace. His hand trailed down the small of her back and over her rear, gripping it firmly to take purchase and dig heat into the skin. It also proved the point – she really wasn’t wearing anything underneath the cloak.

  Twitching and squirming in her bonds against him, feeling his warmth and body wrap around her, the woman in his embrace whimpered softly, nuzzling into his broad chest, gnawing and nibbling on his thumb. The way he touched and held her was setting her alight with lust and need. That there was nothing she could do about it made all the more arousing.

  “Shh... alright, I'll have you down in no time.” Mikhael hushed, grinning down at her as his hands squeezed and grabbed at her soft and proper ladylike body with an accustomed firmness, patting the rear as he pulled away. Gently pulling the digit from her mouth, he rested his hand on her head, holding her in place to stop her biting him again. With her steadied, the Huntsman fished around in his pockets under the heavy cloak for something.

  “Ah, there. This’ll make you safer to handle.” He spoke, as much to himself as the woman bound and panting lightly. Without warning or question, the Huntsman simply pushed a thick wad of cloth firmly into her mouth, shoving until it had balled and filled her eager maw enough to gag it before she could question his choice of words.

  The rubbery leather band to go around her head held it in place, stopping her from spitting it out. That band was usually for stopping the beast from snapping their maws at him than gagging a person, and the indignant flare of life in her eyes said she knew that.

  Ignoring her wordless and muffled whines, he instead got to work unhooking the trapping binds from the rest of her body, letting the straps fall to the ground and release her contorted body – for the most part. It was enough to let her stand and breathe, but both her ankles and wrists remained bound to such an extent that the flustered and gagged woman was still little more than his captive prize.

  With that in mind, and finally done unclasping her bondage, Mikhael lowered the gagged woman down to the hard forest floor, pulling her wrists behind her head. It made her squeal behind the gag and wiggle as much for the chill and harshness of the ground as his flexing her limbs like that. The feel of her legs coming up from behind made it clear enough what he was doing with her, now. The realisation only made her bite the cloth and flush with heat harder.

  Strapping a loop of rope between her wrists, the Huntsman tugged on it firmly while threading the far side between her ankles and tugging back. The result was to see her hogtied like a wild beast, squirming and tugging lightly on the rope as she grinded against the hard floor.

  “There, now to get wrapped up and head home.” Mikhael declared. Despite the glares and being trussed up like another of his hunted beasts, squirming and fighting playfully against the bonds, her sex was quite wet from arousal. It sent juices flowing down her pale thighs as he handled her, nipples clearly hard from both the cold and the torment her lover had given them. For all the maddening, arousing torture, she had no choice but to lay there under his gaze like just another piece of meat.

  Laughing softly and kneeling next to her, Mikhael simply picked up and hoisted the woman over his shoulder in her bound state, leaving her to give off a muffled and quiet squeak of shock and embarrassment. With her legs bound and doubled back, the Huntsman had the scent and sight of her exposed thigh by his cheek to watch quivering on his shoulder as he gathered his things and continued home with his prize.

  Being lifted over Mikhael’s shoulder like another animal he’d trapped or killed was exceedingly embarrassing for her, knowing just how he’d be able to feel every movement of her body. The thought of how he would be able to feel her body heat under the cloak, smell her perfumes, bath soaps and the scent of her arousal. Knowing there was nothing she could do but tremble and squirm on top of him made it all the worse.

  Thoroughly enjoying those scents next to him, Mikhael pushed her heavy cloak of a coat to one side, exposing her pert little rear to the night air. The wriggling and muffled whine as the chill bit into her skin was more than amusing, making the man chuckle and rub the tender round of ass cheek lovingly. It calmed her squirming into a happy little grind, her tone mellowing into a growl of embarrassed pleasure.

  “Mmm, such sweet smelling meat. I think I'll enjoy preparing this one for the Queen.” He teased in a conversational tone, nuzzling and kissing the perfectly soft skin of her thigh. That got her squirming and wriggling against his face, trying to rub his rough cheek intimately as he patted and squeezed the firm round. Talk of the Queen still sent a shivers up
her spine despite it – she knew exactly what would happen if Her Majesty knew of what was going on in the Huntsman's lodge.

  Finally arriving, the Huntsman opened the door to his private forest lodge, ducking down to ensure his capture got in without grazing the doorframe in any way before heaving and lurching to simply toss her onto the pile of furs already prepared in the back of the main room, ignoring her muffled squealing.

  He knew she could see him walk through the room from there, glowering up at him with a dazzled look in her eyes as he undressed. Dropping his own mantle cloak over her body, he discarding his hefty tracking leathers nearby to stand in a much lighter grey tunic and leggings. He looked better without all the armour and rugged apparel about him. She could feast her eyes on him freely like that.

  Knowing she was, the Huntsman stretched and flexed, content to be free of the heavier clothing, but not yet content. Pulling the tunic overhead and leggings off, he threw them aside to prepare the fire wearing nothing more than his briefs. Here in his private abode with his secret lover, he could be at ease and dress how he wished. Such was to feel at home.

  Kneeling down to kindle a spark to flame, Mikhael tended the fire until it had the heat and life of a crackling burn, letting the light of the flames dance off his firm curves. Watching silently from the pile of furs, his bound and gagged companion couldn't help but let her eyes wander over him like a hungry predator, eyeing that hard and beautiful body.

  Glancing back to his lover, the look she gave him got a soft chuckle as he stood, turning slowly to walk over to her. Trussed and helpless as she was, it was simple to leaves her to squirm and stare for a moment longer as he sorted through his pack within arm’s reach of her grunting and squirming figure.

  That he paid her no attention and instead saw to that everything was in its place drove her mad with need for those big hands to grab her, the arms to encircle her. Most importantly however, she wanted to get her hands around those chiselled hips and lock her legs around his waist. She wanted his bold eyes on her and body to take her.

 

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