As she rocked, she stroked her hips back, rubbing her clit along the oil slick of his pubic bone. Low, keening moans, quiet at first, grew progressively louder. Tighter and tighter her passage clutched around his shaft. Faster and faster she rocked her body atop him. Desperate to hold back his climax, Kerrick closed his eyes to think of anything other than her, but such a trick did him no good. Daylong denial placed him in dire need, causing him to erupt within her on a strangled groan.
Ariss tossed back her head and emitted a cry of victory. As she leaned forward, she caught his gaze. Pride, satisfaction, and triumph—she was pleased with herself for making him climax first!
Shocked and somewhat embarrassed, Kerrick reached between their sweaty bodies, sought out and then ruthlessly stroked her clit. She tried to turn away, but his other arm held her securely against his chest. Struggling only helped him by moving her bud more firmly against his body and fingers. When she climaxed, he uttered a growl of satisfaction.
Slumping forward, she buried her face against his chest as she milked the last of his orgasm with the walls of her sex.
He waited a moment for her to recover, then asked, “What’s a kerrick?”
2
Ariss heard him speak, but his voice seemed terribly far away. Pleasure created a haze in her mind, permeating her with peaceful satisfaction. When her paratanist had anointed her with estal oil and forced her to drink the umer, she’d almost blurted out the truth of what her parents had done to her, but some little voice in the back of her mind begged her to use caution.
None should know of her shame.
For the next season, she would be blissfully out of their reach. She knew she would have to see them at official gatherings, but her day-to-day life would belong exclusively to her. Perhaps she could allow herself to indulge in her ultimate fantasy of leaving Felton and the palace behind to live in the galbol tree forest. The one and only time she’d confessed her deepest dream to her father, he’d peered at her with his pinched-up face, then called her a fool. If she hadn’t darted away, he probably would have slapped her for good measure. So long had her mother and father preached their ways, their needs, and their longings, Ariss felt she was simply an extension of them. She wasn’t a person in her own right but a creation to be used by her parents. Buried deep in a seldom-visited place in her mind lurked the girl she once was, the little girl who greeted each day with joy and anticipation. It had been a long, long time since she’d been that bright-eyed, exuberant child.
Below her, Kerrick’s breathing returned to normal as his penis softened and slipped out of her grasping sex. She would never forget her first glance of him. All oiled and muscular and dangerously male as he stood proudly naked at the foot of the bed. In her semi-awake state, she thought him half man, half animal, especially when his nostrils flared as he caught her scent. Dark green eyes, the exact color of deep forest shade, pinned her more effectively than any weapon. Only by sheer force of will had she not riveted her attention on his penis. Deftly, she’d kept her gaze on his face while using her peripheral vision to consider the great heavy shaft between his legs. Shaved of all his hair, there was nothing to soften the view of his arousal. Oil glistened golden light upon his sex as if magic touched his mighty cock. She wanted to see him grasp it in his fist and stroke his hand up and down the length in a slow show of dominant male aggression. Just imagining such a moment caused her sex to weep in response.
Ariss blamed her paratanist for her reaction, for it was he who had removed the numbing estal oil and replaced it with something that warmed her flesh and returned sensation to her body with tingling awareness. The remarkable oil he had used destroyed whatever her parents had forced her to consume and place upon her person. For the first time in ages, Ariss felt her body. Her eyes had widened at Kerrick, but not at anything he’d done. Her shock came from the fact that she could feel the sheets upon her skin and cool air upon her nipples when she sat up. Even now, the slightest puff of his breath raced tingles along her flesh.
When he’d crawled up the bed toward her, she had pulled away, too terrified to let him touch her, and thus enslave her to him. If the silken sheets could cause her body to writhe in bliss, his touch would be beyond her. Somehow, without her quite knowing it, he maneuvered himself close and kissed her. She had no idea how that happened, but the contact caused a series of explosive meltdowns in her body. When her maids had dressed her for official functions, she was so numb she could not even feel the makeup they placed upon her lips, but she had felt every texture of Kerrick’s lips. When he had slid his tongue inside her mouth, she almost cried at how many sensations assaulted her. However, when he’d placed his lips upon her tender nipples, he almost propelled her to orgasm. Desperate for more, she’d grasped his head, holding him firmly to provide her deeper pleasure. When he’d hesitated about penetrating her, she’d leaped upon him in desperation to feel his shaft thrusting within her slick and aching sex. So long had she been numb, that to feel everything, suddenly and fully, overloaded her senses and sent her on a glutinous frenzy to feel more. She wanted to mount him, to suck him, to bite him, to kiss him, and to feel him do all those same things to her. Hunger made her ravenous and washed away any shame.
In her hyperawareness, she felt every ridge, every vein, every sinful inch of him invading her. Sinful, for such a rich pleasure must surely be a violation of her parents’ rigid view of such matters. When he’d added his talented fingers to the already overwhelming sensations, she’d almost screamed and curled away. The feeling was too intense to bear, yet she was desperate for release. For so long she swore she would rather feel constant pain than heavy numbness, but the gods finally heard her prayers, and rather than torture her with pain, they rewarded her with the most sublime pleasure. Reborn in that shattering moment, she’d lifted her face to Kerrick, proud and triumphant that finally, finally, she was not isolated within the prison of her body. His touch freed her. As soon as the waves of pleasure passed, she worried that his touch would now bind her. Once was not enough. She’d barely recovered her breath and already she wanted to ride him again. And now she understood her parents’ admonitions against such encounters and why they’d taken such drastic steps to protect her.
Sex wasn’t just sinful; sex was addictive.
During the Harvest, she had felt nothing as she lowered herself over the sacrifices. Each boy became a man as she took him within herself. Most seemed eager to have the ceremony complete, but a few trembled below her. Two cried as she knelt over them. She longed to comfort them, but she couldn’t. All she could do was speak her sacred words, “By the power of my beauty I take that which belongs to me.” In turn, each of them answered, “I freely give myself to you.” When they did, she would stand above them, her legs parted, then slowly lower herself onto their stiff shafts. She wasn’t sure what kept them endlessly hard, but she knew, like her, estal oil deadened any sensations. Not that she had felt anything in years, which was why her encounter with Kerrick had so possessed her.
Shocked by her own frantic behavior, she felt a blush heat her cheeks as she continued to doze atop him. Perhaps if she didn’t move, she could lie here forever. However, holding still took more and more of her focus, for deep inside her sex burned a longing to feel him again. To feel the thick hardness of him sliding inside, parting her lips around him, welcoming him within the sacred depth of her body.
Her paratanist said she must mate with Kerrick but offered no advice beyond that. Did it matter how many times they mated? Ariss considered what Kerrick had been through; he had plunged into woman after woman without satisfaction only to find his pleasure with her. Would he be capable of another encounter? Her parents had deliberately kept her ignorant about not only the mechanics of sex, but the practicalities as well. Ariss was certain she could go repeatedly, but she didn’t know if he could.
When she had finished harvesting all her sacrifices, she’d breathed a sigh of relief. With that part over, she now had the next season primarily to
herself. Or so she thought. When her paratanist undressed her and began to rub more oil on her, she questioned the reason for his actions. In dulcet tones, he informed her that, according to the most ancient Harvest prophecy, she would now mate with her male counterpart.
Stunned, Ariss had followed her paratanist with shaking steps. When she had first exited the Harvest room, shock had rendered her numb again; members of the elite lined her path. Their critical eyes seemed to touch her every private place with curiosity and, in some cases, mocking. When tears threatened to blur her vision, she deliberately lifted her head, thrust back her shoulders, and kept her attention on a spot far down the hall. If not for her servant’s plodding steps, she might have run in panic. As it was, his slow pacing forced her to live up to her nickname; they didn’t call her Rhemmy for nothing. They compared her to the frozen wasteland of Rhemna, for she too was cold, indifferent, and her icy gaze could strip the heat from a man within moments. The first time she heard the name she had cried, but then it gave her strength, purpose even. She would become hostile and frigid. So cold would her heart become that no amount of heat would thaw her frozen feelings.
Only when she was alone did she let her tears fall.
When she had finally made her way to the mating room and found the circular bed empty, she breathed another sigh of relief, but then fretted under the sheets. What would her counterpart look like? Would he be an animal as some said? Male Harvesters were notorious for their size, their strength, and their battle prowess; they were not known for looks or mental ability. How would a man like that be as a lover? Violent? She shocked herself when the image of him using her in an attempt to sate his insatiable hunger caused a deep, fluttering excitement in her belly. But what if he were a tender warrior; a man who took out his aggression on other men so that he could bestow only the most caring touch to his chosen? This image, too, caused her body to react with an unnamable and untouchable longing. Ariss had fallen asleep wondering and waiting.
Now she knew he could be both aggressive and gentle. She’d spurned him by rote, as she had been taught to do, and it was easy to maintain her disinterest when her body truly felt nothing. Without the protection of powerful drugs, she’d been overwhelmed by her response to him. She wanted all of him at once. A massive storm swept along her, making her frenzied and crazed. She wanted his hands, tongue, and cock to minister to every need within her tormented body.
Tentatively, she lifted her head and glanced at Kerrick.
He flashed an arrogant smile bursting with male pride.
Did the conceited creature truly think her reaction was about him and him alone? Unwilling to disturb her comfortable perch atop him, she curled her head back down, resting her cheek against his chest.
“Now that the moment has passed, you are shy again.” He stroked his fingers through her hair, teasing the strands and his fingertips over her responsive back. The texture of her hair was softer than the most expensive astle, but his fingertips brought the sensation of the strands flowing across her skin to a new and exquisite height.
When she purred in pleasure, she realized her sensitivity had not worn off. A new dread washed over her. If she allowed herself to wallow in physical pleasure, she would only be more tormented when she must return to the control of her family. For the sake of her own sanity, she had to end this. Now.
Coolly, she said, “I mated with you as my position decreed.” With that, she slid from him to the edge of the bed. Before she could stand, he maneuvered himself behind her, wrapped his arms around her torso, and pulled her back into his lap. Their oil-slick bodies slid together in a most erotic fashion, which only exacerbated her fears of addiction.
“How dare you take such liberties with my person?!” She pushed at his massive arms, then realized the folly of engaging him physically. “Unhand me at once.”
His laugh infuriated her and allowed her to realize that she would never become enamored of his touch, for she could not stand him! No doubt, he was from one of the barbaric outer regions where men laid claim to property by using their brawn and not their brains.
“Unhand you? Honestly?” He nuzzled her neck. “After what we just did that seems rather dramatic, don’t you think?” The heat of his body permeated into her, lulling her, as his touch calmed her instinct to run. “Especially when your body clearly wants to be handled.”
Tenderly, he cupped her breast, caressing the nipple between his forefinger and thumb. Her body betrayed her, for her nipple instantly hardened under his attention. That one tiny sensation caused ripples of pleasure across her entire form, especially deep into her greedy sex. She would have bolted, but he captured her earlobe with his teeth, drawing the sensitive flesh into his mouth as he continued to tease her breast.
“In all my life I’ve never met any woman as responsive as you.”
That she could believe, for how many women could he have known who had been forced to consume body-numbing elixirs for half their lives? She didn’t blame herself for her reaction. How could one who’d been numb for so long resist the sudden beauty, the absolute dangerous attraction of physical pleasure? All her parents had done with their machinations was ensure her compulsion by withholding what most considered normal. Every day those around her knew the comfort of soft fabrics, the shock of cold water, the sensual bliss of a lover’s kiss, where she literally felt nothing. Like a woman half asleep, Ariss awoke to pleasures beyond comprehension and simply didn’t know what to do with her own natural reactions.
He growled as he kissed his way along her neck. “Stop fighting me, tanata. Let me show you just how good it feels to surrender.”
The word alone caused a fight within her. Surrender of what? She couldn’t give herself to him, not the way most women gave themselves to their chosen mates. Involuntarily, she tilted her head to the side to dismiss him with harsh words, but her movement inadvertently gave him greater access. When he bit the tender juncture of her neck and shoulder, she startled back, pressing her bottom against him. He lowered his hands to her hips to settle her against his dangerously muscular frame. Ever so slowly, she felt him harden, until his penis dug into her flesh, seeking the heat and wetness of her acceptance.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, she heard a little voice saying that one more time couldn’t hurt. One more time with him taking control and pinning her to the bed with not only his strong body but also his wicked, piercing gaze couldn’t hurt. Very likely, he’d called hundreds of women tanata with that exact same rumbling seduction, but who cared? For now, he was hers. If she chose to think so, she could consider him a reward for a Harvest well done. Best of all, her parents never had to know.
Conflicting her innate longing was the other voice, the louder voice of her parents reminding her of why she’d become the Harvester. She had not competed against all those beautiful women to take the virginity of hundreds of men. A clear purpose filled her mind, focusing her attention, fighting against every wave of physical pleasure Kerrick wrought. Her only purpose was to select a high-ranking man as her bondmate. Her heart clutched in fear when she wondered whom her father would select. She already knew the choice would not be hers.Her father would demand she pick a man who would bring prestige and money to Yellow House.
“Let me go,” she begged breathlessly, even though she honestly didn’t want him to. She wanted him to ignore her pleadings, toss her back on the bed, and then rut with her like an animal in mindless heat.
To her shock, he not only let go, he actually levered himself off the bed, using his body to lift her up to her feet. The loss of his heat shocked a wave of tiny bumps along her flesh. Wordlessly, he turned her to face him. His eyes penetrated into hers so deeply she stopped breathing and simply stared up at him.
“Don’t say one thing when you want another.” His rough voice washed new heat over her as his gaze held steady. “Mating games and courtly flirting have their place, but not within the bedchamber. Here you should be explicit about your needs, as I refuse to guess.”
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On a deep breath, she opened her mouth to upbraid him for his impertinence, but he shook his head side to side, effectively silencing her.
Lowering his voice and his brows, he held her pinned, and said, “Don’t fling your anger at me. Tell me what you want, Ariss. Not what someone told you you should want, not what you think you should want, but what you actually want from me.” He lowered his voice. “Because we both know you want something.”
Words escaped her. How could she convey her most primitive longings to him when he was looking right at her? Exposed, she closed her eyes and tried to step away, but she bumped into the edge of the bed. She spun away from him, and that’s when she breathed in the scent of the room. Their combined essence filled her lungs, shivered her body, tightened her nipples, and contracted her passage. All at once she overreacted to just the smell of sex they’d created. A deep, insatiable longing for more caused her to turn back and face him. She realized just how big he was when she had to arch her neck to lift her face level with his. She was tall for a woman, but he was taller, and much, much broader. Naked or not, he ate up the room with his presence.
Without pride or anger, he stood watching her, his hands held loosely at his sides. Muscles coiled around his chest, his hips, and his legs—power held barely in check by the thin membrane of his skin. Still hard, and pulsing ever so slightly, his penis drew her gaze inexorably down. Hundreds of women, her sister included, had reclined passive for his possession. Only she had climbed upon him to use him as she saw fit. Why then couldn’t she find the words to tell him what she most desperately wanted now?
[The Onic Empire 03] - Sinful Harvest Page 3
