Hunted!

by Terri Pray

  Not on her.

  Good, maybe she could risk shifting a little if only to relieve a little pressure from her thighs later on.

  He looked up, his gaze catching hers, holding it with a look that pierced through to her soul. He knew. Despite the work he was doing he knew exactly what she did. He'd not miss a single movement, a breath out of place or a low whimper.

  He knew her. Owned her. Controlled her.

  A soft jolt rocked through her hips.

  Gods. What was happening to her? Her body wanted his touch, craved him despite the cruel things he had put her through she now needed him.

  The slick walls of her vulva rippled, closing on the plug in her body, her ass tight on the second plug. They weren't the same as having a real man buried between her thighs but the effect was one she couldn't ignore.

  Desire.

  Blatant sexual need.

  Her nipples throbbed under the tight grip of the clamps, the small half hidden bud at the top of her sex pulsed with a hunger she had no way of controlling. All she could do was kneel there, waiting for his attention, his pleasure.

  A touch that might not come.

  Her thighs tightened, the need to move, to grind down onto the pressure that filled her core. It wouldn't have taken that much to ease it, to find a way to enjoy the unwanted touch deep within.

  The look he gave her spoke all too clearly. He knew the ache within her sex, the craving that threatened to fill her, to control her. He knew and he smiled before turning back to the paperwork.

  Bastard.

  She knew this game, push Celeste to see how far she could go before her body finally gave into the need to move.

  She'd beat him, her will would rule here, not his.

  Her hands clenched into tight fists behind her back as she knelt there, her gaze lowered to the floor, thighs taut, her ass tight about the plug that stretched her back passage, her darkest hole. He liked to push her, take her lower with each new game, each attempt to break her, she knew that. Had learned that all too well in the past few weeks.

  Focus. Breathe. Think of safer times. Better places. A world away from the here and now, the man with his desire to bend her to his whims.

  Her jaw clenched, a long slow breath easing some of the tension from her form even as she let her eyes close once more. The Raven.

  She could recall every small detail about the man, the color of his eyes, the darkness of his hair, that glint of steel in his gaze that had lightened with the brief touch of his gloved fingers against her cheek. Such a man as that she was proud to know was Irish and not English.

  His kiss. Gods, she could still feel it burning a path through her body. His lips had brushed hers, seeking a moment to enter her mouth. His body so hard, sculpted under his clothing, had claimed hers for that heartbeat that had lasted an eternity.

  Men like him were rare.

  Bold, brazen, so sure of themselves. Proud of their heritage, their home and their beliefs. They didn't back down to people like this Davien, no Raven would have fought him, killed the evil man that had torn her from home and hearth, her dreams had made that very clear.

  Foolish. Now she was believing in dreams.

  “Milord? The first of your guests has arrived. Lord Harold and his son the honorable Jeffery.”

  A new voice, who?

  She looked up, gaze focusing on a woman. One of the maids by the looks of things. How had the woman entered the room without Celeste being aware of it?

  Her focus had been elsewhere, pulled so far away from the reality of the situation just so she could prevent her body from betraying her.

  “Good, show them up at once.” Davien gathered his papers, setting them to one side. “I wish brandy brought up, and inform the cook that dinner will be required by eight of the clock.”

  “Yes, Milord.” The young woman bobbed a quick curtsy before darting out of the room.

  How long had she been kneeling there? Long enough that her legs ached, and movement would not come easily, especially with the way her arms had been bound behind her back. Gods her shoulders hurt, the ache had become a burn, a terrible deep-seated burn that seared through her joints.

  Her nipples throbbed under the metal clamps yet still she didn't move.

  Her cunt tightened, rippled and squeezed on the fake cock within her core, urging her to rock her hips, to seek some small release, yet she struggled to remain still.

  She had managed it so far, she could handle it for a little longer, couldn't she?

  Lord Harold, not a name she had heard before, who was he? A man as cruel as the one that claimed to own her, no doubt.

  Her gaze moved back to Davien, trailing over his well-shaped form, lingering on his thighs before it traveled back to his chest then to the shards of ice that formed his eyes. No warmth. Not in the weeks she had been in his company had she ever seen even a hint of human kindness in his gaze.

  Knowing Davien, he would have seen such a thing as a weakness.

  “Soon little pet, my guests will be here soon. Do not break position until you are given permission to by me. Do you understand that? No matter what is done to you, remain in place until given leave to move.”

  “Yes, Master.” The words were little more than a whimper. Her body ached, screaming in silent protest at the position she had been forced into. The last thing she wanted was to remain in position for a further unnamed length of time. Her muscles protested now, throbbing with each breath she took but moving, breaking his command, would have made matters far worse than they currently were. He would punish her in front of his guests.

  Any doubt she might have clung to on that matter died with the memory of the way she had been put to use before they had even left Ireland.

  The door opened as she fought the need to move, the newcomers would not be a reason for her to seek punishment. Her will was the stronger, no matter what Davien thought. She wasn't doing this for the man that had taken her away from her family and friends, but to keep from being punished again.

  “Blood, good to see you again. ‘Bout time you organized a good hunt again. What took you so long to put this little party together again?” Lord Harold spoke almost as soon as he walked through the door, quickly followed by a younger man she presumed to be Jeffery. Or rather the Honorable Jeffery.

  She frowned slightly, looking over the two newcomers. Harold appeared to be a shorter man, not much more than five foot with thinning grey hair combed over in an attempt to hide the bald spot that claimed most of his head. His skin had a yellow color to it, sallow as if he didn't spend much time in the sun. There was a watery touch to the blue of his eyes and she could never imagine being afraid of him.

  Jeffery was another matter. Blond hair, deep blue eyes, his face almost angular. Cruel. That much she knew before he even spoke. A man like that would enjoy inflicting pain, tormenting anyone and anything he could lay his cold little hands on.

  “I had to wait until things had fallen into place, Harold.”

  “Looks like you've managed to find a sweet little toy there.” Jeffery, even his voice left her feeling cold. “Where ever did you dig up such a delicious creature?”

  “Ireland.”

  “Interesting. She's under orders not to move?” Jeffery took a step closer to the rug.

  “Yes, until I tell her otherwise.” Davien's smile only added to her growing discomfort.

  “This should be entertaining. May I?”

  “Feel free.”

  Calm, focus. She had to keep her mind from spiraling into the depths of despair that threatened on the edge of her reality. Jeffery, an unknown, yet she knew from the look in his gaze, the calculating way he took in the ropes about her breasts, the clamps on her nipples and the leather between her thighs, that he would enjoy tormenting her.

  “Does she have a name?” Jeffery glanced back at Davien. “Or have you stripped it from her?”

  “Celeste, though slave works just as well, along with anything else you care to call her. She's ju
st a piece of property after all.”

  Her hands clenched into fists in the small of her back, the bonds about her arms almost too much to bear as she fought to hold position. She was far more than a piece of property and one day she would find a way to show them that.

  Her stomach rolled, confusion mingling with anger. She cared what they thought of her. No, not they, him. Gods, it didn't make sense. Why did it matter what he thought of her?

  He was nothing but a kidnapper and slaver.

  A man who deserved her contempt, yet now she cared how he viewed her, it made no sense at all.

  “Well now my pretty girl, you do look to be a delectable little morsel there, don't you?” Jeffery cupped her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “From Ireland are you?”

  “Yes, Sir,” she murmured.

  “A country of ill-bred upstarts, I hear. Nothing good comes from your home.” His fingers dug into her face. “Or perhaps Davien has finally discovered something useful from there if your sweet little beauty is anything to go by. Are there others like you? Other women who need to be shown the touch of control that our Davien is so skilled with.”

  “I don't know, Sir.” Mystic. Her sister. If ever a woman deserved the treatment she was being put through then it was Mystic. No, that wasn't fair. No matter what her sister had done she didn't warrant this type of treatment. No woman did.

  “I'm sure you know far more than you appear willing to discuss.” Jeffery leaned closer, his free hand closing on the clamp attached to her left nipple, pulling at it, drawing her trapped teat away from her body. “Don't you girl.”

  Celeste hissed in pain, the color fleeing from her form as she fought to hold position. Every nerve ending urged her to arch up from her heels, to find some way of relieving the pressure that shot lines of fire through her nipple. “Please, Sir. I don't know. I just did my work and looked after my family.”

  “Liar. Come now, slut, there are other females close to where you lived. Perhaps even a mother or sister. Tell me about them.” The clamp twisted in his grip until she screamed in sheer pain. With a dark chuckle Jeffery released his hold on the metal contraption. “Now, tell me of your family, slave.”

  “Father, no mother. Dead. She's dead.” Celeste sobbed. How could anyone do this to her, treat her with such cold cruelty.

  “And do you have sisters, or where there other women where you lived. A farm girl were you, or did you live in a village?”

  “Farm.” She tried blinking the tears from her eyes. Giving them her tears, that soft sign of her pain, was something she tried to avoid. “I lived on a farm.”

  “With who? Who else other than your father lived there?” Jeffery's fingers dug into her chin. “Tell me slave.”

  “Sister, I have a sister.”

  “I wouldn't waste your time going after Celeste's sister. She's a well-known slut. No adventure there.” Davien's voice carried through the room. “Mystic has been known to sleep her way through half of the local men, if not more. I did my research before I picked up Celeste.”

  How long had he been watching her then? Or had he paid others to do the work for him? He had the money to hire those extra sets of eyes.

  “Ah, well I wondered if the area might be worth a look see for myself. What where the other girls like?”

  “A few that held some potential, but her sister, nothing more than a whore.” Davien's discussed the matter with the same tone he might have applied to breeding stock. “Celeste was the best of the bunch, but there might be a few possibilities in the village near her home. I can give you the details of the area after dinner.”

  “Ah that's my boy, always looking for ways to improve himself. Did I mention he had made friends with a fellow from Spain, odd looking chap by the name of Jamezon.” Harold pulled up a chair near the table. “Keeps talking about setting up some great castle so he can have slaves and play toys like your little pretty there. Don't trust the chap myself, he kept giving me the strangest looks.”

  “Spanish you say? Well those continental types are a little strange. Look at the rumors coming out of France about Napoleon. If he keeps up this way, I fear we'll be sending boys off to war, Harold.” Davien's entire demeanor changed for a brief moment. As if he had become, well, foppish. Was this how he portrayed himself at court? The fop, the cad that would discuss matters of war, politics and women all in the same breath with as little interest in one topic as he might have the next?

  “You don't need to pull that little stunt with me, Davien.”

  “What?” He frowned. “Damn didn't even notice I was doing it.”

  “Court is a long way from here and we know just what's going on there. The situation in Europe is not something we need to be concerned about right now. Not with that luscious piece of meat you have there.” Harold nodded towards Celeste's kneeling form.

  Meat. Damn them all, she was more than a piece of meat to be used as a distraction. Her hands clenched for a moment before he forced them to relax. Focus, breathe, think of other things, times, places, she could survive this and whatever else he had planned for her.

  A soft touch across her bound breasts brought a soft cry to life, a jolt that almost rocked her from her heels, leaving her struggling to hold her position.

  “She wants to move. But doesn't. Interesting. You've managed to do some training with her then?” Jeffery finally stepped away from her, giving her a little extra space.

  “It's taken a little work but yes we've reached that point.” Davien admitted. “Now, tonight there will be a little extra entertainment. I've invited a small problem to attend the dinner. It's about time we dealt with the issues that boy has been creating for our group.”

  “Are you out of your mind? His family has wanted you dead for years?” Harold exclaimed.

  “Perhaps, but I believe it's far better to deal with the matter now than allow it to continue. At least here, I control the situation and no matter how it works out, there will be witnesses to prove it wasn't murder.”

  Murder.

  Oh gods, what did he have planned?

  His ice-claimed gaze turned fully on her kneeling form, a slow lingering look that tightened her skin, sent a deep clench through her body, her thighs shaking with the need to rock on the twin fake carved cocks buried in her depths. His look, his ownership, his hand that slowly urged her to become this thing she feared, the slave, the wanton beast under his command.

  He owned her.

  Claimed her.

  Could and would mould her into whatever he wanted.

  “Some, but she still has a long way to go before I will be satisfied with her abilities.” Davien nodded towards the still trembling woman. “She is improving, minor issues in the past few days, but she has the potential to become a fully-trained, delicious piece of property that any man would be proud to own. Now I believe the cook and staff will have the dining room prepared, and from the sounds of it my other guests are arriving. So I suggest you both retire to your guest room to freshen up and I will meet you in the dining room at seven.”

  With a half sob, she closed her eyes, trying to ignore the swell of joy that swamped her form.

  Proud to own.

  That wicked little voice at the back of her mind teased her with the delights she would know in that day. When she finally submitted and became the desirable woman he saw in her. A soft, sensual, submissive little beast that craved his touch, the pain, humiliation and torment he offered, with little thought for her own desires.

  And that knowledge terrified her.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Who was this one, this man that would be a part of the meal that night, a man that wanted her Master dead? She should have rejoiced at the thought, but a part of her trembled, fearful that she would lose him.

  No. She wanted to be free of him, didn't she?

  “Something the matter pet?” Davien inquired a moment after the two men had left the room. “You appear almost disturbed by something, or is it just the need to move?”


  Her throat tightened, tears that she refused to spill now burned in her eyes. She couldn't let him see them, yet they welled, trying to spill down her cheeks. “I just hurt, Master.”

  “Of course you do, but there is more to it than that, isn't there?” He stalked across the room, cupping her cheek almost gently. “No matter, we can discuss this at a time when it will have a deeper impact.”

  She blinked, trying to clear her vision. Deeper impact? Was that even possible?

  He leaned closer, moving his hand away from her cheek, trailing a light touch over her skin until he reached her bound breasts. “Time to release you from these bonds.”

  She nodded slightly, trembling at the thought of his touch, his hands against her body, something she didn't want, yet needed if she was to be released from the cords. His fingers closed on the clamps.

  “This will hurt.”

  Why did he warn her?

  The clamps slowly unscrewed from her nipples, at first there was nothing then it hit. A wave of sensation that she had no defense against. Pain, pleasure, they combined and throbbed into her nipples as the blood returned to her hardening points. She almost screamed but the sound turned into a low moan, pleasure, gods how could she feel so much pleasure? Yet she did, her hips rocked deeply, the fake phallus’ pressing deep into her core, her tight ass, she wanted to move, needed to, yet couldn't.

  “I warned you, my lass.” He half chuckled as he leaned in and undid the cords that had been bound about her breasts, massaging the rope marked skin as he worked them loose.

  Breath hissed between her clenched teeth. Her thighs tightened, the muscles cording under the growing pressure. Her breasts, she'd never felt such an intense rush of sensations through them before. Almost too much.

  “You like this, yet hate it. That's how much of your life will be. Torn between need and loathing, you'll never become fully used to it of course, it wouldn't be worth it to me if you did. Oh you will submit, but a small part of you will remain defiant to the bitter end. It's just a part of your nature my pet.” He rose, dropping the cords and clamps to one side before he walked behind her kneeling form and unlaced the leather that had held her arms in place.