by Jaide Fox
Navarre took hold of her ankles, hoisting her legs into the air in the shape of a V. Between her legs, she could see his cock, hard and angry and purple, as furious and fierce as his face. As she watched, it grew in breadth and length, looking monstrously huge and impossible for her body to consume. Studded nodules erupted in a spiral around his shaft.
A shudder of fear rippled through her.
“You make it so easy to punish you with your bad behavior. I promised you this would hurt and you better scream when I enter you. Look at me while I fuck you. Don’t you dare close your eyes. You deserve so much more than this,” he practically growled.
As much as he might threaten and growl and promise to hurt her, he’d never done more than she could take. Truth be told, she’d never reached the heights of pleasure with any other man like she had with Navarre. She’d craved the pain he inflicted on her body, for with it came ecstasy so intense, it burned with the ferocity of a volcano.
She’d craved him like no other. Even now, with budding fear at the look in his deep blue eyes and fury etched across his face, she couldn’t help the shivering thrill at being fucked by him. Just the threat of his violent fucking was enough to make her cunt weep in submission.
The moisture fled her mouth and throat, settling between the lips of her sex, already eager to feel his harsh assault.
He spread her legs apart, propping her feet on either side of his neck on his shoulders. Without preamble, without touching her with any measure of love or tenderness, for she saw none of that in his face at this time, he gripped his cock and pressed it against the mouth of her vagina.
Her knees locked, her thighs trembled. She bit her lip, a mixture of fear and desire tensing every muscle in her body.
The mushroomed head of his thick cock bore into her body. His girth made the tender edges of her hole stretch to maximum capacity. She screamed, just as he’d wanted, her hips bucking against him as he thrust full and deep inside her body, stopping only once he’d reached the bottom of her pussy and could go no further.
Brute force bruised her insides. Her channel burned as if being ripped apart. The nodules spiraling his length seemed to leave permanent etching through her inner muscles, causing them to clench violently at his sexual attack.
A look of satisfaction crossed his face as he gripped her hips and ground himself against her sensitive pussy.
She writhed, in pain and pleasure, not daring to close her eyes, willing herself to meet the dark fury of his gaze as he slowly withdrew inch by agonizing inch.
A whimper, part pain, part enjoyment, tore from her throat.
“Suffer,” he ground out, thrusting back inside her with bruising force.
She thrashed on the bed, taking his engorged length to the fullest, feeling him wrack her body with the ecstasy of pain. Her fingers knotted in the bedcovers, desperate to grip something, as if it could hold her back from crying out.
Nothing could. Another scream ripped from her throat, and then he was fucking her like a madman, possessed by an unholy demon riding his back, driving him inside her again and again.
Her hips bucked under his forceful touch. She wanted to hate him for taking like this, for wanting to punish her and make her suffer.
But she couldn’t.
She deserved everything he gave her and then some.
She couldn’t resist the pleasure building inside her any more than she could deny that she still wanted him. That she’d never stopped wanting him, even after all these years.
“Fuck me harder,” she begged, determined to give him as good as she got, wanting him to bruise her insides and imprint himself on her, leave his mark on her body until she could no longer walk.
He growled, furious, leaning low over her body and allowing her legs to slide down until they wrapped around his hips. “You’re not supposed to fucking enjoy this, you bitch,” he ground out, nipping at her throat with his teeth and making her tender flesh sting.
She moaned. Her hands came up and she scratched his shoulders, digging her nails into them until she thought she’d drawn blood. “I love that you fucking hate me, you bastard. Use me like a toy. You burn me up inside. I want you to hurt me. You hurt me so good.”
She knew her words would only serve to heighten his anger, enrage him to a point where he might not be able to control himself around her. The danger of it excited her. As much as she’d wanted to escape him, feeling his cock inside her, burning and stretching and pounding her, she couldn’t help but crave him.
He wanted to punish her, but if he thought fucking the shit out of her and hurting her with his cock was going to do it, he was badly mistaken.
She’d play the willing submissive, if only to goad him into impotent rage.
It was impossible to punish the willing.
Kittana smiled wickedly. Navarre growled deep in his chest. He ripped her arms from around him and pinned her hands above her head with one hand. She pretended to struggle, gasping when he bit her neck again and sucked her—hard.
His hips slapped against her, his cock taking short, forceful thrusts that ratcheted up her desire. She felt her body building to that place he’d take her to before. Warmth spread through her body, pooling in her center, increasing in heat until she thought she would burn alive from the delicious friction he created within her.
She arched her head back, reveling in the feel of his hot, wet mouth on her, the shackle of his hand, the way his other hand reached down and cruelly twisted one of her nipples.
Riveting shudders traversed her body. Her pussy spasmed when she felt him reach the tipping point between rage and release.
He ripped his mouth off her throat, burying his face against her, his hot breath singeing her skin as he breathed raggedly. He groaned, and the sound filled her with pleasure. She felt his cock erupt with fluid, felt him douse her insides with liquid fire.
Kittana screamed, writhing beneath him, unable to stop the chain reaction he created deep inside her cunt. Gasping as he pumped tiredly into her, her channel fisted around his cock, milking him as the orgasm rippled through her insides.
Agony and desire mingled as one, leaving her with almost terrifying feelings of bliss and contentment. Shivers wracked her, pebbling her skin with goosebumps.
Navarre forced himself off of her, leaving her lying on the bed, staring up at him. He looked down at her with disgust on his face. Legs spread, his chest heaving from his efforts, every muscle flexed and rippled. His cock jutted from his groin, still at attention.
The look on his face spoke volumes to her. If she thought one round with him would change the fury in his heart, she’d been badly mistaken. Whatever love had been there had been burned away by hatred long ago.
And it was all her fault.
“I forgot you always liked me to hurt you in the bedroom. I’d thought your perversions were merely a façade you’d played out to get close to me. Now I realize my mistake. I’ll have to rethink what to do with you, Kittana.”
Kittana swallowed, allowing misery and fear to once again rise to the surface. What would he do with her now that he knew he couldn’t punish her the first way he saw fit?
She feared what he would do next but knew wrath was coming, whether she prepared herself for it or not.
***
“Come here to me. Now. Do not make me wait,” he demanded, pointing to the space on the floor at his feet.
Kittana obeyed, kneeling between his spread legs and angry erection.
“Lick yourself off me. I smell you all over my skin,” he said, ice in his voice.
Kittana swallowed hard, moistening her mouth. Slowly, she reached up to take him in her hand. He’d returned the beast back to its original shape, but his cock was no less intimidating for the change. It was still thick and long, carved with deep, pulsing veins.
She grasped him and slipped the head into his mouth. Navarre made no noise, merely grasped the crown of her head and gripped her hair, forcing her to swallow as much as her throat would a
llow.
She gagged on him and he grunted in satisfaction.
“Suck it off,” he said, pulling on her hair until her scalp stung with the erotic bite of his tugging fingers. The light sting of pain was a heady aphrodisiac to her.
She hated to admit that she enjoyed being forced and dominated. She’d always thought of herself as a pervert, but there was something about having her will obliterated in favor of his own that took the guilt out of enjoying rough, kinky sex for her.
She wasn’t sure of the reason, and she damned sure wouldn’t admit it to him. Far better for him to feel like he had the upper hand than to know she was secretly enjoying herself. Perhaps if he was lulled into believing he’d punished her and won, she’d have another chance at escape. She wouldn’t fool herself into believing he cared anything for her anymore. His feelings of anger and betrayal were too strong to lead her to think otherwise.
The musky smell of their combined scents made her nostrils flare. She’d always enjoyed the perfume of sex, enjoyed the smell of him too. He tasted salty, filling the orifice of her mouth and forcing her to suck him clean of the remnants of their fucking.
Kinky bastard. Kinky bitch.
She had yet to encounter anyone with appetites as rugged and taboo as his.
Swirling her tongue around him, gagging on his length, she felt her saliva pool in her mouth and overflow from her lips, dribbling down her chin. She knew he liked it messy and nasty and was happy to oblige.
She knew he watched, just as every man did. They wanted to see a woman’s throat work on their erection, see the excess spit, see them gag and choke. It wasn’t a secret to her as it was to most women.
Men could be quite earthy, disgusting creatures. They allowed baser instincts to rule them.
Kittana grabbed his hips, forcing him to fuck her mouth. He groaned with approval, thrusting into her mouth with rapid, short strokes until she felt a tension build in the muscles of his hips.
She knew from previous experience that he was close to coming. He tangled his fingers in her hair, gripping her head as he stroked her mouth. A hoarse groan ripped from his throat. She felt his cock jump in her mouth, and then the spew of his hot, sticky fluid filled her mouth.
“Swallow it,” he demanded, his voice husky and deep.
She choked the fluid down, wiping her mouth off when he withdrew.
A beep sounded from somewhere in the suite. Navarre moved away from her to chase it down. She watched as he picked up a small rectangular device and panned his finger across the screen.
“I have a message. It seems we’ve been cordially invited by the master of the games to a celebratory dinner tonight at the main hall. He wants those gladiators who’ve won mates to come and show off their trophies to the delight of his guests. Do you know anything of the Antarian culture?”
“N-No. Only that they are a bloodthirsty lot that likes to see the galaxy’s condemned put to death in the games.”
He waved his hand. “That is common knowledge. What is not so common is that they enjoy the delights of the orgy, whether watching or participating. They have a special drink here that many imbibe to loosen the morals and groins of their guests. It is quite the depraved sight if you’ve never witnessed one of their gatherings before.”
Kittana blanched then felt heat suffuse her face. The very idea of public fornication mortified her. She thought such activities best kept in the privacy of the bedroom. Kinky she might be, but she’d never been to or heard of such a thing. “Do you…do you think this will happen at the party tonight?”
He rubbed a thumb across his freshly shaved chin, regarding her with a cool gaze. “Given the fact that none of them have likely seen a ShadeShifter mating, they will no doubt expect us to put on a show. Long have they been fascinated by the premise of our shifting during sex, though none have dared to attend our needs themselves. You do not like the sound of this, I can see it by the look on your face. You’ve never been able to hide anything from me with that fair complexion of yours.”
Kittana blushed despite herself. She wondered at the wisdom of admitting the truth, but in the end, it probably didn’t matter. He was going to do what he was going to do whether she was willing or not, whether she liked the idea or not. Better to not trip herself up by lying. “No,” she said, meeting his dark blue gaze and hoping for some measure of mercy.
He chuckled, sounding cold and mirthless. “I believe we shall attend. Maybe once tonight is over you will learn not to cross me. Go clean yourself up.”
Kittana looked down at herself. “But I have nothing to wear.”
“Where we go, you will need no clothes. I will find something appropriate for the occasion for you. The shower is that way if you have not guessed.”
Chapter Four
Kittana felt the eyes of the festive crowd the moment they entered the main hall. Though the clinking of forks on china, excited chattering, and tinkling glasses seemed to fill the air with a cacophony of white noise, it could not distract her from the discomfort she felt upon entering.
Navarre had kept his promise to dress her for the evening, if one could call what she wore to be dressed. A thin gold chain clamped to her nipples, making them stand out from her breasts for all to see. Her waist was adorned with more roping chains, the shining gold serving only to draw the eye in a downward pattern over her body. The ropes of gold clung to her hips, and from those were strung a few sheer scarves that did nothing to hide the triangle of her sex or the cleft of her buttocks.
He’d exchanged the thick collar he’d initially put around her neck for one of gold, and he carried a long leather leash in his hand, leading the way inside.
If she thought she’d be nervous when attending, she hadn’t covered half the feelings she experienced now.
Interspersed among the blue skinned Antarians were tables of gladiators with their concubines. Some had dressed their women in sheer gowns and robes. Others were adorned much the same as her. The Antarians seemed to favor the same easily accessible robes and gowns for themselves, though some of the men chose to wear kilt-like coverings over their lower extremities.
The ShadeShifters were dressed in loincloths that left little to the imagination, fully exposing the hard planed muscles of their chests and arms, and the tattoos that carved across their skin. She could tell that not all the victorious were in attendance, for only about ten of the women she’d traveled with were here.
There were far too many ShadeShifters at the gathering to be satisfied by how many slaves had been initially procured.
Kittana tried to keep her eyes trained on Navarre’s back as he led her through the throng to their own table. One of the other gladiators sat there, eating as his slave girl fed him from her fingers. To her right sat another gladiator, idly fondling her naked breasts.
Seeing the sight set up an alarm within Kittana. Given the fact that there were more unmated shifters than those that did have mates, she couldn’t help but wonder how this party would progress. The very promise of depravity for the delight of the crowd made her curious what was going to happen.
And she wasn’t at all certain that she wanted to find out.
Had Navarre brought her here with the intention of publicly humiliating her? Or had he planned on sharing her with the others? They had no sense of normal relationships as many races and societies had. Her own people practiced strict monogamy, but she knew that their ideals were a minority in these times.
Certainly the Antarians suffered no such qualms about switching and swapping out partners. And ShadeShifters were decidedly more savage and adventurous.
“I see you enjoy the spoils of battle, Torin?” Navarre asked the dark haired man seated at the table.
