Mastering Marissa

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Mastering Marissa Page 14

by Cyna Kade


  Marissa struggled to open her eyes. Her cunt, well lubricated by her need, wanted—no, needed—to be fucked. She wanted more. She wanted Kytar deep inside. How much longer could he deny her? Unable to move away from the butt plug or the clamps, she wanted more. She silently cursed her need. She wanted her emptiness filled. She lay there quietly and silently, waiting for Kytar’s next move.

  He surprised her by saying, “Do you submit to my will?”

  “Yes, I submit to your will,” she replied without hesitation, floating on the bed of sensation he’d created. She shoved aside the tiny voice in her head that screamed a refusal. She didn’t want to listen to that voice anymore. Kytar might hurt her, but he never abused her. He wasn’t like her stepfather.

  “Do you open yourself to me?”

  “I am open to you.” Again, she replied without hesitation, almost as if the words had grown in her mind, just waiting for an opportunity to speak them.

  “Do you give me your will and your mind?”

  “My will and my mind are yours. I love you.”

  Kytar stilled, staring down at her, stunned by her admission—a very public admission. A wave of lust and love poured through him. He started to reach for her bindings.

  “The fourth stage is complete,” boomed the voice.

  The voice recalled him to his task. He shook his head. He’d nearly broken. But he couldn’t, not yet. The ceremony wasn’t finished. He had to finish.

  Clenching his jaw, he moved to the head of the table. Framing her face in his hands, he bent over and his eyes held hers.

  At first, it was like a rustling wind in her head. Then he blasted past all her barriers. She screamed with shock as he forcefully entered her mind, shoving aside her mental walls as if they were paper.

  Nothing in her past had prepared her for the mental strength of the Darinthian male in the throes of ritual. He was deep inside her mind. He caressed some thoughts and shoved others aside as he sought out the strands he needed. He held her in thrall, finding the center of her pain and pleasure.

  Her arousal built as he played in her mind. He built it higher and higher, never granting her release. He wound her like a coiled spring until she dreamed of exploding. She wanted to explode. She forgot the audience in her storm of need. Held helpless in his thrall, she didn’t notice the first man approach. And she nearly screamed when he licked her clitoris.

  She tried to push past the peak, but Kytar stopped her, ruthlessly quashing her arousal. “Not yet, little one,” he murmured, a frown of concentration lining his face.

  The second man approached Marissa and grazed a finger across her clitoris. Again, Kytar quashed her arousal. The third man licked a nipple. Still Kytar held her firmly in his grip. She began to realize why women could lose their minds during testing.

  One after another, the strangers touched her. She was so close to the brink that without Kytar’s strength, any one of those touches could have sent her over the edge, but he didn’t let that happen, instead the relentless touches continued.

  One man inserted two fingers in Marissa’s vaginal canal and spread her outer lips. One man rotated the butt plug. Another man blew across her clitoris, yet another jiggled her nipple clamps. Some men stroked or licked her abdomen.

  All the while, Kytar’s gaze held her eyes and his mind controlled her, firmly commanding her body’s response with mental touches. She was cherished and loved, he reminded her as he touched her mind, sometimes lightly, sometimes with more power, always there, never leaving her alone.

  On and on it went, as all the hundreds of men in the auditorium came onstage to touch her. No part of her body escaped their attentions. Her ears were licked, nibbled and blown into. Her neck was bitten, her bellybutton filled by a finger and a firm hand below massaged her abdomen, leaving an aching in her belly that remained throughout the rest of the torture, every breath reminding her she could not fight these men. Would the ritual never end?

  The line of men ceased. Still Kytar’s eyes held her on the peak of release for an endless moment before she felt the soft stroke in her head as he said, “Come.”

  Marissa’s world exploded. Her mind blasted apart in the intensity of her orgasm. Even Kytar’s help couldn’t prevent her scream as long, powerful contractions pulled on every muscle of her body and a throbbing release overwhelmed her.

  She came back to awareness, still bound to the table. Her rectum had torn a little in the violence of her release. Still clamped, her nipples were painfully sensitive and she could still feel the touch of all those men.

  “The fifth stage is complete,” she heard and groaned. She didn’t think she could withstand much more. Despite her orgasm, her cunt screamed for Kytar to fill her, she’d never be complete without him. Would he never penetrate her? Weakness seeped deep into the core of both her mind and her body. Her sanity wavered in and out, never quite solidifying.

  Marissa clung to Kytar. His gaze holding her firmly, he was her reality. She feared what would happen when he left her mind.

  But he didn’t leave. Kytar held her as others removed the clamps from her breasts and then the plug. Finally, they freed her hands and ankles. She lay still, afraid to move. She feared there would be more and she feared there would be no more. Wasn’t he ever going to fuck her?

  Kytar took away the hysteria, filling her with a calm acceptance. Even with his help, she didn’t think she could take much more.

  Almost done, he whispered in her mind.

  Her eyes widened and she saw a gleam of satisfaction race through his eyes. She heard him in her mind, Say the following, out loud. “I am Kytar’s companion and we are bound forever—physically, mentally and spiritually.”

  “I…” She started to say but her voice broke. Swallowing past the lump in her still sore throat, she tried again, “I am Kytar’s companion and we are bound forever—physically, mentally and spiritually.” She spoke softly, but her voice echoed in the auditorium. Everyone heard.

  “The sixth stage is complete,” boomed the voice she was growing to hate.

  Kytar’s voice rang out as he said, “The challenge ritual is complete. We are bonded companions. We are one body, one mind, one spirit.”

  A scream ripped from her sore throat as deep within a band of pressure exploded. But the pressure didn’t hang on the peak this time. Satisfaction flooded every piece of Marissa’s body.

  “The challenge to your link has failed. The bonds between Kytar and Marissa are recognized!” the voice announced, finally sounding excited. The entire auditorium broke into cheering at the announcement.

  A wash of pride mingled with frustration. Don’t these men ever just fuck? Despite her orgasms, she still craved Kytar’s cock buried as deeply as it could go.

  Kytar’s chuckle filled her mind as he answered silently, Your physical breaching is a private act. Don’t worry. We will get to that point soon. He smiled down at her and gently kissed her forehead, then turned to accept the acclaim of his fellow Darinthians.

  He kept a hand on her shoulder and she closed her eyes. Feeling battered and bewildered, she gladly accepted his touch, too confused to try to sit or stand. She didn’t want to see the men who had done intimate things to her. And she wanted to enjoy the feeling of joy that suffused her.

  She would never have to say no again. She’d never be alone again. Peace flooded and calmed her exhausted body. Confident that Kytar would keep her safe, she fell into a light sleep while the males celebrated.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Every muscle in Marissa’s body ached and throbbed as Kytar picked her up. A light touch in her mind lessened her soreness and as it decreased, she felt something else, something that wasn’t hers. Her eyes widened as Kytar’s satisfaction and pride and love came through clearly. Laughing, she nuzzled his throat, licking his salty warmth, feeling the strong beat of his pulse under her tongue. She felt his answering chuckle rumble through his chest.

  * * * * *

  “Our link has strengthened, just as th
e legends said it would.”

  “To the point that we can read each other’s mind?” she questioned, even as she wanted to shout with joy. She felt their connection and knew herself cherished.

  “You were warned about that. Many times, if I recall correctly,” he said as he placed her on the bed.

  She kept her arms wrapped around his neck and tilted her chin, inviting a kiss. Now, she thought. Take me now. I can’t wait any longer.

  He laughed and she heard his response in her head. Amazing, isn’t it? I’d heard stories, but I believed them exaggerated.

  She shuddered, in need, not fear. They’d gone far beyond fear. She couldn’t deny her longing anymore. She needed him. She wanted him. She loved him. Reaching for his clothes, she helped him undress, desperate to feel his naked body next to hers.

  He rubbed close while he stroked her with his hands, all over her body, lightly touching her. “You were magnificent. At times, I wondered if we’d survive. I’m very pleased with you.”

  Marissa expected to feel embarrassment, but realized she didn’t. Instead, his words sent a thrill of accomplishment and pride singing through her body as she remembered the ritual. Thinking about it, she remembered her earlier question. “Why did it matter that you had never entered me?”

  “The challenge ritual is a test, not of your responses, but of my strength. After collaring, the urge to consummate the binding is nearly irresistible. But you resisted and you were strong enough to challenge our binding. If I’d taken you before I met your challenge it would have proven that that I was not strong enough to hold you.”

  “So why was Talcor here during my training?”

  “Talcor was my watcher,” he murmured, kissing a line down her neck.

  Knowing he was trying to distract her, she fought to focus. She’d hated having Talcor in the room, despite the fact he’d eventually helped her. She wanted to know why he’d been present during her training. “Watcher?” she asked.

  Kytar pulled back until he could meet her eyes. “Training is dangerous. Talcor was there for two reasons. First, he was there to prevent me from breaching you prematurely. Had I done that, our link would have broken so violently that it could have meant death for one or both of us.”

  “And the second reason?”

  Kytar made a move as if to get off the bed. Marissa placed her hand on his arm and felt his muscles tense as turmoil swirled within him.

  “Kytar?”

  His nostrils flared with his deep breath. “So I wouldn’t hurt you beyond repair,” he said, his voice husky. “Talcor was there to protect you from me.”

  Kytar’s anguish caused tears to fill Marissa’s eyes. His torment flooded her, but she didn’t understand the reason for it. He’d calmed her enough times, could she now return the favor? She sent out her love and calming energies, trying to reach his mind.

  A wry smile creased his face. “A Darinthian male cherishes his companion. There is an irresistible urge to protect her. It is unthinkable for a male to hurt his companion unless they’ve both agreed.”

  “But you told me I did agree when I challenged you.”

  “Yes. Your challenge gave me unlimited power over you and it short-circuited my natural inclination to protect you. It didn’t remove it entirely, but it blunted it, making it possible for me to prepare you for the ritual. There were times when I was so angry with you…” he trailed off, staring into the distance before continuing. “I could have easily damaged you, seriously damaged you. Talcor was there to protect you.”

  “And you hate the fact another man had to protect me,” said Marissa softly as she realized the source of Kytar’s torment.

  “You should never have to look to another man for protection.”

  Marissa hesitated, not sure how to help him. Then she remembered something he’d said early in their relationship. “You told me the collar is a symbol of protection, that if I wore a collar, I could call upon any man for help. How is that different than what Talcor did?”

  “He had to protect you from me!”

  “Only because I was foolish enough to challenge you,” she retorted. “We both acted in ways we now regret. Let’s forget the past,” she said, reaching toward his lap. Rubbing his cock, feeling the steel beneath her hand, she coaxed it to its full height. “I need you.”

  Kytar chuckled, his tension changing from regret to need. He stroked Marissa’s body, tingling warmth trailing his hand as he murmured, “The ritual was dangerous. I was terrified I’d lose you. Every man in the building expected you to lose control or me to lose control of you. You didn’t, though. You accepted my touch. You were superb. I’m pleased that you were every bit as responsive as I hoped you’d be. You should be proud of yourself.”

  Marissa realized she was proud. Happy she’d pleased him, it had been a heady experience, almost as if she’d channeled the need of every man in the room. But she knew she hadn’t done it alone. “And you should be proud of training me and proud of your strength.” She grinned, knowing she didn’t have to fight or pretend anymore and she’d never be alone again.

  His lips grazed her forehead. “Your challenge failed, now you’ll pay the penalty.” He chuckled as he gathered her tight and kissed her, gently brushing his lips over hers. Slowly deepening the kiss, he worked his tongue between her lips, and into the hidden recesses of her mouth. Mimicking the act to come, his tongue went in and out, until she moaned. Holding her tight, controlling the kiss, he let her know that her pleasure was his to give or withhold.

  He finally stopped torturing her mouth by moving his kiss across her chin, down her neck. Shivers of pleasure played along her spine. He continued with devoted attention across her breasts. Pausing a moment, he savored her nipples, licking each one before pulling and biting lightly.

  Marissa shuddered as molten desire rushed to her belly and exploded outward. She moaned and tried to squirm, but his weight held her still.

  Raising his head, he smiled down at her. “You understand now, don’t you, little one?”

  “Oh yes,” she sighed, reaching for him but he stopped her with a quick motion.

  Capturing her wrists in one hand, he raised them over her head and bound them.

  “No,” she moaned. “Let me touch you.”

  “Not yet.” He smiled. Lowering himself, he spread her thighs. Holding her legs, he bent his head and parted her labia with a fingertip. Then he used both hands to open her wide.

  She jumped when the tip of his tongue slowly and firmly licked her clitoris. Warmth curled outward. She clenched her thighs when he blew on her clit, but he held her exposed, open and helpless. Then a stroke moved in her head and she felt a lash across her buttocks. Lick, and then lash. Repeatedly, she bounced between physical pleasure and remembered pain. She moaned with the need generated by his cunning mixture of sensation until she could not tell one from the other.

  He raised his head and held her eyes. Breezing through her mind were words. I no longer need physically touch you. His eyes glittered with satisfaction. Then it was as if his mouth touched her, laving her slit. All the while, his eyes held her and his mouth curved into a smile.

  Fingers seemed to enter her cunt and spread her moisture. The movement merely increased her ache rather than soothing it. Lost in the sensations he effortlessly created in her mind, the throbbing need in her cunt held her captive.

  “Please take me,” she whispered, unable to speak louder through her need.

  He laughed. “Not quite yet. Be still.”

  Marissa lost all sense of time. Sometimes he touched and sometimes he just used his mind. She couldn’t tell which touch was physical and which was mental. Inside her head, they were the same. He pushed her further and proved she had no choice but to surrender her will to him.

  “Please, please, please…” The words echoed in her head. She wasn’t sure she spoke them or if he heard them. Either way, he ignored her pleading.

  Fevered and writhing, she was lost in the wonder of her body until the
tip of his cock paused at her entrance. Then she stilled, not daring to move, afraid he’d withdraw and leave her frustrated.

  He framed her face with both his hands and forced her to meet his gaze. His eyes had turned a hard black. They held her for a long moment while he moved his hips forward.

  The tip of his cock entered her dripping channel. She stopped breathing. He was so wide. The sheer size of his cock stretched her walls. Before she could panic, he smiled and started a relentless, agonizingly slow forward motion. He didn’t stop again. He didn’t hesitate or give her another chance to recover as he slowly, inexorably pushed forward, determinedly widening her narrow channel.

  It seemed to take forever before he reached the end, but he kept moving forward. “It will stretch to take me all,” she heard him murmur as she fought not to gasp that he was too big. He felt too good to stop, filling her with a pleasure she’d never dreamed possible. She gasped for air, trying to relax, trying to take all of him.

  Split in two, her pussy burned as it adjusted to his girth. His presence in her mind helped her accept his size. He continued his pressure until she expanded to meet his full thickness and length.

  She had fallen silent long before he finished seating himself fully within her body. Impaled on the length of his long member, his pelvis ground her hips into the bed. His pubic hair tickled her clitoris. She struggled to squirm, to move just a millimeter—she needed to move, but his full weight held her pinned.

  Marissa surrendered to his domination and lay submissively under him, fully under his control. He rocked his pelvis a little, as if to make more room and her arousal rose to meet his movements. Thus, seated firmly, he grabbed her thighs and raised her legs over his shoulders, deepening his assault until he seemed to reach her throat. Then he stopped.

  She clenched the cock buried deep inside. In response, he flexed his hips, nudging her cervix. When he pushed in even deeper, her arousal loosened her muscles just enough to give him another millimeter of depth.

  “Tell me what you feel.”

 

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