by Mina Carter
She nodded, trusting him despite all odds. She felt full, more stuffed than she ever had in her life. As long as he didn’t move, they’d be fine. Like he said, she just needed to breathe.
She concentrated on the rise and fall of her chest and his gentle touches in her hair. The burning pain eased, leaving behind an intense need to move. She mangled her lip again, still watching him, but not sure if to move would attract the savage side of his nature. But, savage as he was, she didn’t feel in any danger.
Somehow he knew the dark urges that surged through her. The need to move, to feel his thick cock slide out of her tight pussy and thrust in to impale her again. His lips twitched as he pulled back until the thick head of his cock was just inside her channel, then slid right into her again. A long, tight ride of pure sensation.
“Oh gods.”
The exclamation was torn from her lips as pleasure rolled through her. Despite her recent release, tension and anticipation held her in their thrall as he picked up the pace, moving over and within her with a power and dominance that started a fever in her blood. A fever that needed harder, faster and deeper.
“Not quite. Close.”
His lips quirked again, showing off a set of dimples she’d have found adorable on anyone else. On him, they were seriously sexy. Planting his hands on either side of her head, he took her hard and fast. She loved it, moving with him and urging him on.
Desperate to get more, to get closer, she wrapped her legs around his hips. The move changed the angle of penetration and his rough groan mingled with her moan of pleasure.
“Naughty little faery…you like this, don’t you? Admit it. You love being fucked by the big, bad elf.”
He leaned down to claim her lips and she welcomed him. Her tongue slid around his, teasing and tempting him as their bodies moved in unison. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she raked him with her nails as she strained against him.
He broke the kiss, looming over her. “Admit it. Admit you like being fucked by an elf. By me,” he demanded as he slid into her again. Each strong, claiming thrust drove the tension in her body higher and higher.
“Yes. Yes, I like it,” she panted, closing her eyes. She needed harder, faster. Just a few more thrusts and she’d be there.
His grip was firm in her hair, pulling her head back so he could look in her eyes. Desire and something else hardened his expression.
“Look at me. I want to see in your eyes as you come all over my cock. You are going to come, aren’t you, little faery?”
He slammed into her again and rolled his hips to grind his pelvis against hers. She gasped, everything slowing as she hovered on the brink. A pleasure-filled abyss opened at her feet, just waiting one more move, one more thrust to topple her over into it.
Bane pulled back, slamming into her with a roar. She screamed, the onslaught of pleasure too much to handle, her climax shattering through her. Powerful thrusts took him over the edge as well, his big body stiffening over hers. His cock pulsed and jerked as he emptied his seed deep in her cunt.
Collapsing, he rolled at the last minute and reversed their positions so she lay, exhausted and overwhelmed, across his broad chest. His hand tangled in her hair as the last tremors of pleasure faded from their bodies.
“You’re mine now, little faery. And I keep what’s mine.”
Chapter Four
What the fuck was wrong with him?
Bane scowled as he stomped through the forest toward the Elven camp with his pack over his shoulder and his little captive in tow. Her wrist manacled by his fingers, she hadn’t tried to get away. Not this morning or on the march here. Nor did the cursed trees around them try any of their usual tricks, keeping their blasted branches to themselves for once. Not that they bothered him. The frustration coiled within him fed his power, stoking it to fever pitch. More than enough to flambé a few wayward dryad-infested trees.
He didn’t even want to think about what had happened this morning. He’d had plenty of women in his time. Camp followers or hangers-on looking for a powerful protector. All well used and passed around. Luckily his rank and status had ensured he got first pick. He didn’t like fucking a pussy that had been pounded by half the damn army.
He’d never woken up with any of them, ever. As soon as they were done, he usually sent them packing so he could sleep. War was a tough business and a guy needed his rest without worrying about some bedwarmer stealing his furs and leaving him with a cold ass half the night. Not to mention he didn’t do “the morning after”.
Sex was sex. He’d never once been bothered about a woman after they’d had a roll in the furs. Hells, half the time he didn’t bother to find out their names. Names were dangerous. Find out a woman’s name and she expected cuddles in the morning and first pick of the morning’s kills for breakfast.
He’d never woken with his big warrior’s frame wrapped protectively around them. Until this morning with his little faery. Fast asleep and naked as a babe, she’d been nestled against his chest, her long red hair spilling over his bare arm in a silken blanket. Her legs twined with his, her hand had been resting over the center of his chest, as though the feeling of his heart beating comforted her.
Then she’d opened her eyes and he’d been lost. For a moment, between sleep and true wakefulness, she’d looked at him and smiled. The sleepy trust in her gaze had rocked him to the core. Said things about moonlight and romance, long walks into the sunset. All the kinds of things he should run a furlong from. Shoving her from him, he’d gotten up to get dressed.
Even now, hours later, that sleepy look of trust still had him on edge. She shouldn’t trust him. She was his prisoner. He owned her, body and soul. Owned. He could do what he wanted with her. And he wanted to do a lot with her and to her.
Like tumble her to his bed furs and take her until she was hoarse from screaming his name and they were both exhausted. Pin her down and pleasure her until she couldn’t take anymore and begged him to take her. Begged him to spread her pretty thighs and own her completely. He could even see the look on her face as she begged, needy and accepting…wanting him.
Loving him.
Fuck. He sped up, dragging her behind him. She stumbled, but his grip on her arm kept her on her feet. He needed to get control. She was a faery. His prisoner. There was no way she’d ever look at him that way. Ever. They hated anything elven with a passion.
They were nearing the main camp. The feeling of magic up ahead increased, the dark pressure against him as if it were sunlight on his skin as the noise of morning training reached his ears. He sighed, nothing like a good bloodcurdling scream to set up for the day ahead. As if on cue, a sentry stepped out in front of them.
“Halt! Who goes there?”
“The Queen of the fucking Faeries. Now get the hells out of my way,” Bane growled, not stopping or slowing. The sentry’s eyes widened and he did his best impression of a fleeing rat, disappearing into the undergrowth he’d appeared from.
“You fucking bully,” a female voice berated from behind him. “There was no need to be like that, he was just doing his job.”
“Gods, give me strength.”
Bane stopped suddenly, causing her to run into his back. He didn’t move, absorbing the hit easily. After all the turmoil that had been churning through his head this morning, she just had to pick fault, didn’t she?
Moving quicker than a striking snake, he turned and grabbed her by the collar of her tunic. She gasped, eyes wide and dark as he backed her up against the nearest thick tree trunk.
“Don’t ever question me,” he snarled, pressing against her. The friction and pressure against his rigid cock almost undid him. He’d been hard all morning, unable to get peace from his ever-present arousal. Anger flared. How had she gained such control over him? How dare she?
Anger replaced the fear in her eyes and she struggled against his hold.
“Fuck you.”
Something clicked inside. Anger fled, only to be replaced by something
darker and inherently more dangerous.
“Oh, you will be.”
He rolled his hips against hers, making her aware of just how stiff and ready he was, smiling as her beautiful eyes widened further. Lust raged through him, replacing common sense. He didn’t care how close to camp they were or that anyone could wander by at any moment. The thought of claiming her publicly, and making her irrevocably his, turned him on all the more.
If he took her that way, claimed her properly, she’d be in the traditional white shift. Barefoot, with that glorious scarlet hair loose about her shoulders, she’d make her way through the massed warriors of the camp. Warriors who would whoop and holler, making crude suggestions to embarrass her, but none would dare touch her. She was his and his alone.
When she stood before him, he’d be ready. Tear the flimsy shift from her delectable body and crush her in his embrace. Claim her lips and drive his tongue between them, kissing her until she knew she belonged to him. Until she shivered and clung to him, her tiny hands on his strong arms and chest. A roar of triumph and male pride on his lips, he’d turn her around, push her to her knees and kneel behind her…
Growling, he brought his lips down on hers. It was a harsh kiss, but he wasn’t in the mood for soft and sweet. Instead, he was dominating and swept his tongue across the seam of her lips to demand access. She shivered, giving in to him without a fight. He thrust his tongue into her mouth, plundering and taking what he wanted as she shuddered against him.
He dispensed with his pack with a shrug of his shoulder, ignoring the heavy thud as he shoved a hand between them. Not bothering with a spell, his strong fingers tore the lacing of her leathers open from front to back. She whimpered, a soft sound, which was lost under his lips as he kissed her as if his life depended on it.
With an unsteady hand, he freed his cock. Thick as a quarter-staff bar, he ached with the need to be inside her. With her clinging to his shoulders, he kicked her legs farther apart, accepting the thrust of her tongue as it dueled with his. Dipping his knees, he ran the swollen head of his cock over her lower lips and groaned.
She was slick and wet, ready for him. All sense fled as instinct spurred him on. The need to possess her, claim her, roared through his veins. Hand braced against the trunk, he drove into her. A solid thrust that stopped when his hips met hers. She gasped, her violet eyes wide. Shocked. Aroused.
Triumph filled him. He’d done that, put that sexy look on her face. Pulling back, he surged into her again and again. The feel of her tight little pussy wrapped around his cock nearly sent him over the edge there and then. Grimly, he fought the climax back. She was his and he was going to fuck her hard and fast until she admitted it.
“Oh…that’s it, harder.”
Her breathy pleas urged him on. Hooking a hand behind her knee, he yanked her leg up over his hip. Thighs spread for more leverage, he pressed her back against the rough bark and gave her every ounce of power he could muster. She took it all, whimpering and moaning as she clung to him.
“That’s it, baby,” he whispered, dragging his lips along her delicate neck. “Take it…admit you want it. Admit you’re mine.”
She trembled as the first spasms of her release tightened her body around him. He swore and pressed his eyes closed. He wasn’t going to hold on…but he had to. He refused to come before she came, screaming his name.
“Admit it,” he demanded, slamming into her and rolling his hips to grind against her. Her eyes flew open, that soul-shattering trust filling their unusual color.
“Y-yours…” she panted, as though the words were torn from her. “Oh my gods…Bane!”
She screamed, cunt clenching about his cock as she came. Hard. Elation and lust thundered through him as he pulled his hips back, cock sliding almost out of her silken channel before he thrust into her one last time. Throwing back his head, he roared in triumph. His body stiffened, cock jerking and pulsing in the depths of her sweet little body. His seed…his woman. Forever.
She was more than screwed, she was fucked. Tamryn leaned her head back against the tree and tried to catch her breath. Her arms were wrapped around Bane’s broad shoulders as he panted, cock still buried deep inside her. She didn’t know what had happened. She should hate him, should have shoved the knife he wore in his belt right through his ribs. Instead, she’d let him screw her against a tree. In broad daylight.
The worst thing about it… She’d loved it. She’d even clung to him and begged for more.
Shaking his head, he slid out of her and stepped back to rearrange his clothing. She had to grab the tree for support, her legs as weak as a day-old dragonet’s. She was a slut, no other way to explain it. Why else would she be standing here, shaking, with her pants in ruins and an elf’s seed running a warm, wet trail down her thigh? No, not just any elf—Bane the Terrible. The most feared killer in the enemy’s army and she’d let him fuck her.
He finished doing his pants up and looked up. His eyes widened and a hint of color touched his cheeks as he took in her disheveled appearance. Another expression washed over his face, but it was gone almost as soon as she saw it. Had it been regret? Shame for succumbing to his lust for a faery again?
She bit her lip as he lifted his hand and uttered a small spell. Magic whirled around her in a chaotic dance, catching her clothing and tugging at her hair. She squeaked in surprise, trying to cover her face and head as it pinched and pulled. Finally, it died down and she risked a look from under her arm.
Bane watched her, an amused look in his eyes.
What the…
She checked herself quickly to make sure the spell hadn’t done anything nasty, like give her donkey’s ears or a beak. Nope, her ears were fine, as small and delicately pointed as they always had been, and her nose felt quite normal.
“Don’t worry. I only had it mend your clothes. I…didn’t mean to damage them,” he admitted abruptly, as though the words were dragged from him.
He was right. Her hands dropped to her crotch, finding the torn leathers in place, as though he hadn’t torn the seam with his bare hands. Her fingers fluttered over her crotch, her pussy still throbbing. Her clit ached, reacting to the slight pressure of her own hand as she leaned back against the rough bark.
A low growl escaped his broad chest. His dark gaze fastened onto her open lips, and the amusement fled from his gaze, replaced by a dark and dangerous look.
“Fuck. Don’t look at me like that.”
She flicked her tongue over her lower lip in response. She was a slut…but right now, she didn’t care. She wasn’t an idiot, the best chance she had of surviving this was with Bane. If she could entrap him with her feminine wiles, sparse as they were, then she might just avoid getting passed around the entire elf army and forced to service the stinking masses.
He crowded her back, claiming her lips in a hot torrent of a kiss. She tensed as anticipation of his harsh kisses and brutal, but sexy caresses surged through her body. For a second, she ached for the soft, sweet touch of a faery lover, but the craving was gone as his tongue parted her lips and drove inside. She was never going to get that with him. Humming with pleasure, she met him kiss for kiss, each hot slide and tangle driving her need for him back up into the heavens.
He groaned against her lips and drove his hands into her hair. Pulling her away from the tree, he enfolded her in his arms and kissed her as if she was the last woman in the realm. Wrapping her hair around his fist, he pulled her head back to expose her throat. Not painfully, but firmly. No nonsense. She didn’t have a choice and didn’t want one. He could have hurt her anytime he wanted to. He could have beaten her to a bloody pulp or raped and abused her. There was no one to stop him doing anything he wanted.
Hot lips descended on the tender skin of her throat, over the pulse that pounded with excitement and need. She clung to him, her hands on his broad shoulders and her legs trapped between his spread thighs. Her knees gave, unable to support her, but he held her easily. Breathy moans and pleas broke from her lips as
he spread a large hand over the back of her hips to press her against him.
Oh lady, he was ready again.
She whimpered as his cock prodded her soft belly. He’d just come but was as stiff as a pole-arm. She ached, cunt needing to be filled again. She needed his cock, wanted him to fuck her again as hard as he just had. Harder. Faster. Until she didn’t know where he ended and she began—
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Bane. Put your little toy down, would you?”
The mocking voice broke the spell. She jumped, squeaking, as Bane lifted his head and tucked her against him. His entire stance protective, he glared at the elven king who’d materialized next to them.
Briac’s bright silver eyes were amused and vaguely mocking as he looked at them, noticing Bane’s hold on her. Longing filled his eyes for a second, but then he blinked and it was gone, leaving Tamryn to wonder if she’d seen it at all.
“Go screw yourself, Briac.”
She caught her breath. That was the second time Bane had been downright disrespectful to his king. She loved Queen Talitha with all her heart, but she was as respectful as the next soldier. She would never dream of speaking to the woman the way Bane spoke to Briac.
Instead of ordering his ever-present troll guards to lop Bane’s head off, all the king did was laugh, as though he found Bane highly amusing.
“Kinky. As well endowed as I am, that’s still impossible. Now put her down—”
“Never. She’s mine.”
Bane tightened his grip to the point she couldn’t breathe. Whimpering as her ribs were crushed, she pushed against his shoulders. He eased up a fraction but didn’t let go, his dark gaze still locked in a battle of wills with Briac.
“Technically, she’s Talitha’s and bitch queen wants her back. Since I just signed a treaty, we have to play nice.” Briac turned his attention to Tamryn, his silver eyes hard now. “It’s your lucky day, sweetness. You’re going home.”
