THE TAMING OF JAELLE'N
Page 9
Her breasts were flattened against his chest, almost painfully, but her nipples throbbed with pleasure at the insistent press of his hard body. She could feel his arousal nudging at her belly, and she wriggled, seeking to shift enough to admit him. His arms bound her to him like massive cords of living iron, so she squirmed in vain. His breath was hot on her skin as his lips traveled from point to point on her face and neck. He loosed one arm enough to lift a hand and tangle it into her hair. Pulling back her head, he gazed into her face with a raptor's blazing stare.
"Did you imagine I could allow anyone else to see you like this, bare and hungry, enflamed with desire? Anyone else to hold and touch and taste you? Another to hear you whimper and feel you throb around them in your climax? You may have bewitched me with your Cymryddan magic, Jayla, but I fear I am as much a slave as you are."
She laughed in sheer joy. "Then I am yours to enjoy, Master-mine, tonight and for always."
Without another word, he lay her on the pallet and followed her down, covering her body with his. She gloried in the weight and power of him, crushing upon her. She spread her legs wide and opened herself to him, gripped his hard buttocks and pulled to urge him on. She arched up to meet the urgent thrusts of his massive shaft. Once he was sheathed within her, she alternately clenched and relaxed her inner muscles around him as he moved in and out, the tempo quickening with each thrust. Then she twined her legs around his hips, sharing fully in his wild ride to triumph. She held off her climax as long as she could, fighting the cresting waves of sensation in an effort to crest at the exact moment he did.
"Let it be, Jayla. Give in to your passion. I cannot wait any longer."
She almost laughed. He was waiting for her! Her hands closed convulsively on his powerful shoulders as the gales of ecstasy battered her. She heard, as if from far away, his exultant cry as he made a final thrust and spurted inside her. He collapsed on her and they lay tangled for long moments, so close it was impossible to separate their breath, their heartbeats, their exultant exhausted flesh.
Neither Aguilar nor Ayudan could be said to lack stamina. While Jayla was still content to lie still, his warm body covering hers like a blanket, he stirred and drew free. For a long moment, he squatted on his heels, looking at her. She watched him through half-closed eyelids, feeling heat build again from the avid adoring light of his gaze.
"You kept my gifts," he whispered. "That was the first thing I saw when you entered the tent--the green stones that mirror the color and brilliance of your eyes, the way the gold enhances your milky skin. I knew you were angry, and I had wondered if you might leave behind those small tokens of my regard."
"I thought of it," she confessed. "But in the end, I could not. If all I was to have of you was cold stones and gold, then I vowed to cling to them for the memories they held. Even to buy my own freedom, I do not think I could part with them."
He smiled. "You will have many more such baubles, then. And you will earn each and every one."
Lightening fast, he caught her ankles, spreading her legs wide. His hands were as strong as the metal bands that had once pinioned her legs, and she could not resist him. Incredibly, heat again began to build inside of her as the tender flesh between her legs quivered and throbbed beneath the pressure of his gaze.
Shifting forward, closer to her, he bent in a smooth glide and pressed his mouth over her navel. With the tip of his tongue he outlined the small hollow, then moved on to trace the pattern she had painted on her abdomen, line by line, every loop and interlace. Before he was done, she was shivering, clutching at the silken covers beneath her as excitement sizzled along her nerves.
His warm mouth drifted gradually lower. Then his hands swept swiftly down her legs to clasp her knees, which he lifted, spread apart and held wide. She arched her back, raising her hips in supplication. She was afire and only his touches could soothe and sate her. "Master, please, oh please!"
His dark head bowed over her again and his tongue slipped through the fire-gold curls into her slippery hot slit. Ever so slowly he stroked his tongue along its length, pausing to swirl around the sensitive nub that stiffened and reached avidly for his caress. She bucked into that touch, almost mindless as a knot of pleasure gathered inside her. A thin keening cry welled from her lips as the knot drew tight and every muscle in her body echoed the spiraling tension. He sucked and licked and nipped until she twisted and bounced, clawing at the bedding and finally grasping his head in both hands, her fingers tangling in his hair. She lifted from the bed, pressing into his face, hanging on a pinnacle of pleasure so intense it seemed almost painful.
Sensation exploded inside her, spreading in waves that rippled outward along her nerves in convulsive shudders. When they subsided, she lay limp, weak and totally sated. He sat back, smiling in a self-satisfied way as he watched her come undone.
When the pounding of her heart slowed to near its normal pace and the quivers of her muscles faded, she struggled into a sitting pose. He sat, one leg extended off the pallet and the other bent, his foot resting against the opposite knee. He looked at her, one eyebrow lifted slightly and a small smile curving the corners of his lips upward.
She stretched, then reached with one foot to stroke up his thigh. He tensed subtly as her questing toes approached his shaft, but he did not move away. Ever so carefully, she drew her big toe along his shaft, felt him quicken at the touch, and watched as his cock thickened and stiffened, quivering slightly with the flow of blood through its length.
"Vixen," he said. "Have you not had enough?"
She shook her head. " 'Tis not I but you who still hungers, Master, as is plain to see."
He held himself still for but a moment more, then pulled away from her touch and shifted to lie upon the heaped cushions, half-sitting. "So how do you plan to satisfy those hungers?"
With a smile much like his, she knelt between his bent knees. "But wait, something is missing here." She leapt to her feet, glanced around the luxurious space until her gaze fell upon a length of silk, draped between two of the dark poles that supported the tent. She drew it free and turned back to Aquilar. "Jayla the slave would like for her Master to experience the ultimate sensations, those of a helpless captive..."
He lifted one dark brow, but did not disagree. With great care, she bound his wrists and tied his arms behind his head to one of the tent poles with the length of arachensilk, which she knew to be stronger than a massive rope of hemp. Finding two more drapes of soft fabric, she wrapped an end around each of his ankles and tied him, spread eagle. With a sly smile, she stood and looked down at him. She could see how he struggled to retain a passive and disinterested expression, to hold his body still and relaxed. That could be overcome.
She began to dance, the slow undulating movements of a cobra rising to the tune of its keeper's flute. To music she heard only in her mind, she writhed and twisted, bent and lifted, stroked her own body and displayed all of it for his eager eyes. As he watched, he strained against the bonds, aching to touch her, to draw her to him. His shaft stood rigid, trembling with the force of his growing need. Finally he moaned, his face taut and sharp with the anguish of waiting.
It was time. Now he could appreciate fully the attentions she planned to lavish upon him. Kneeling close to his shoulder, she leaned down, brushing her breasts across his body, letting her hair flow around him, locks licking like flames across his tense golden flesh. She touched him, light quick caresses and slow gliding strokes, first with hands, then with lips and tongue. He moaned again, straining against his bonds, flailing his arms in futile urgency to reach for her.
She moved slowly down his body, missing no inch of his beautiful muscled frame, bestowing loving touches, kisses, licks and gentle teasing nips all over him. Just past the waist, she stopped and crawled quickly down to his feet. Starting with the soles, she made a leisurely way up his legs until she finally faced his engorged cock, dark gold and fully erect, dewed on the tip with a pearl of clear fluid. She wrapped her fingers arou
nd it and stroked, once and again. Dipping her head, she lightly brushed her long hair along its length and downward, around the taut sacs beneath his shaft.
With the very tip of her tongue, she wiped away the white droplet, peeking up at him as she did so.
He twisted, straining until his face suffused dark with blood. "No more, please. I cannot bear it," he ground out, his voice ragged and low. "Do you torture me to punish me for the pain you endured in thinking you would be sold? Did you not know, did intuition not tell you, that I never would have let another have you? I am at your mercy, Jayla--nay, Jaelle'n. Yes, I know that is your name and I give it again to you along with your freedom. Aye, one such as you should never be a slave. Even in submission you held to your pride and your courage, dignity, even curiosity and burning interest in all that surrounded you. You are my equal, the first and only woman I have encountered to whom I can say that."
Jaelle'n paused, rocked back on her heels and gazed at him in surprise. "Master, say you the truth or only words designed to beguile me into releasing you?"
"Not 'Master,'" he said thickly. "I have never truly been your master, although I tried. I lie not, and I will put it into writing this night if you wish. You are free. If you chose to leave me, I will die a bit, but you may go if that is your wish. I will send warriors to guard you to wherever you wish to go. Yet should you choose to stay, I will make you my partner and mate for life, share with you all that I own and give you all of my love for the rest of your days."
With a joyful laugh, Jaelle'n leapt to her feet and ran to release the bonds. Almost before she was done, Aguilar grasped her and drew her to him. By dint of the strength and power she knew and loved, he brought her down astraddle his thighs, driving into her ready depths as he gazed up at her with glowing, love-heated eyes.
"I--will--stay," she gasped out between his thrusts. "After you, what other man could possibly please me? I am your slave still, even as you are mine. And that is how it should be--two--"
Her words ceased as her climax overtook her. At the same moment, he cried out in triumph and released his seed into her eager body.
"I hope that our union will soon result in a child," he said, after they both regained enough control to speak and listen. "You must cease to take the drug that prevents my seed from taking root, the one Tanaya gives to all the women in the compound. Long lived though I may be, I will not live forever, and I would delight to have sons and daughters of our bodies to take on the empire we shall build. The House of Jaelle'n and Aguilar--built upon love, upon your courage and my wisdom, upon our shared passions, both those of the flesh and those of the mind."
Jaelle'n saw no need to tell him she had ceased taking the drug two ten-days past, and even now, she sensed a babe had begun to grow in her womb. Some things are best left unsaid, in spite of declarations of love and freedom.
Nor did she mention a growing wish to embark on a trip to the far northlands and visit her home, whether or not she ever took the reign of Cymrydda.
In good time, all of these things would be revealed.
For now, it was enough to nestle in Aquilar's strong arms and know that the master had truly been enslaved--and the two of them would always be together.
Deidre O'Dare
Deirdre O'Dare, who also writes contemporary romance as Gwynn Morgan, has loved reading and writing since early childhood. She started writing--simple verses and paraphrases of Nancy Drew and Zane Gray--before she was out of grade school and finally settled into romantic fiction in the last decade after leaving her "day job" as a civilian employee of the U. S. Army. She lives in Arizona and frequently sets her stories in the Southwest she knows and loves, but now and then another locale calls to her creativity and she strays, even as far as prehistoric Greece and places that exist only in her imagination.
* * * *
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Karola, daughter of Diana, is totally innocent and wild, having never left the forest where she has grown up. Then one day she encounters an intruder, someone who looks a bit like her but also very different. In Damien she finds her first human friend and much, much more. Before the day is over, she has discovered what it means to be female as she is awakened to the delights of her sexuality and the first stirring of love.
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