Gift of the Goddess

by Denise Rossetti

  She projected reassurance as best she could, but once again, Brin pushed her away. Leave me, he seemed to be saying, for Lufra’s sake, don’t risk it!

  Irritated and restless, Anje shut her thoughts off with a decisive snap and went down to check on the vranee. They’d been provided with tubs of water and feed and though she was sure it must be the poorest quality, they chewed placidly enough. Nilda and Braithie were nowhere to be seen.

  Two hours of pacing later, she heard a welcoming whicker from Twink, then a light, firm tread on the stairs. Faint with relief, she stared as Trey entered the room, his body almost concealed by parcels and rolls of cloth.

  “Mother of Mercy, Trey! Did you buy the shop?”

  “Very nearly.” He chuckled as he dropped the parcels and held out his arms. “Kiss me.”

  Anje hurled herself at him and bore him down to the mattress. She kissed him with all the artistry of which she was capable, playing with that soft, carnal lower lip, licking and nibbling. When she finally lifted her head, he gazed at her with eyes half-lidded with desire, his thumbs gently rasping her nipples.

  “Have you ever had a pleasure slave, Anje?”

  To her annoyance, she flushed. “Me? Not on a scout’s pay.”

  Trey spread his arms. “Behold, Mistress. Here I am.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  BARGIN—Make yer own likker. Workin still, all bits.

  Notice in pawnshop window, The Hollows.

  Anje frowned and sat up. “What are you getting at?”

  Trey tugged her down again. “Anje—” He stopped.

  Alarmed, she pulled back to look into his eyes. All amusement had fled. “What’s wrong?”

  “Do you know what the Hssrda do to the males they sell for heavy work, like in the mines?”

  Her guts turned over. She wet her lips. “They…they geld them, don’t they?”

  “Yes. The only way we’ll get Brin out of there intact is if we buy him as a pleasure slave.”

  “How do we do that?”

  “You do it, sweetheart. Dressed as a noble lady from the Kingdom of the Leaves of the Sea.”

  Anje clutched his arm. “Trey, I’m no actress. Couldn’t we just fight our way in?”

  “You’ll be fine.” He ripped open a package and drew out a short, supple cane and a length of filmy material in a midnight blue, threaded with knots of silver. “Here, look. It’s hardly marked. We can drape it to hide the stain and it goes with your eyes.”

  Anje barely glanced at it. “What about you?”

  “This is for me.” Trey picked up a bundle about the size of his hand. Out of it spilled a studded metal collar, a tangled nest of leather straps and a squat, dark jar. “Standard wear for a pleasure slave.”

  Appalled, she husked, “No! Let me do it.”

  Trey cradled her face in his palms. “Listen to me, Anje. Pleasure slaves have no will, no rights. If you have to hurt me to show the Hssrda you’re really who you say you are I want you to do it. If it was the other way about, I couldn’t cause you pain and be convincing. I know it.”

  “But I can’t—”

  “Yes, you can.” He smiled crookedly. “Deep inside, you’re as much of a master as Brin.” Leaning forward, he darted the tip of his tongue over her lower lip. “I can’t resist you. Either of you.”

  With nimble fingers, he began unlacing her clothes, while she sat frozen. “For tonight, let’s play, Anje love. Tomorrow will come soon enough.” He took her hand and curled her fingers around the collar and straps.

  Arousal slithered through her. “What’s in the jar?”

  Trey buried his nose in her cleavage and inhaled deeply. For answer, he held up the vessel. Anje twisted off the lid and sniffed cautiously. The cream inside was a delicate pink and it smelled of summer and hot grass. Underneath lurked a sharp, metallic odor.

  Trey murmured, “It’s a depilatory.” The gentle puffs of his breath made her nipples bud up tightly. “A pleasure slave must be bare and smooth. I found an apothecary who keeps it for the high-class whores.” His tongue swept over the inner curve of her breast.

  Anje arched into the caress as heat shot through her like a lightning flash. Suddenly suspicious, she brought the jar to her nose. Mother! Lust washed over her in sheets, stinging and electrifying. Her sex swelled and throbbed and a growl rumbled in her throat.

  Before she knew it, she’d grabbed Trey’s cock through the fabric of his trews, loving the hardness of it in her palm, the way it filled her fist.

  Sweet Mother, the cream had an aphrodisiac in it!

  Breathing heavily, she sat back on her heels, exerting every ounce of willpower she possessed. Trey lay beneath her, rumpled and gorgeous, grinning.

  Gods, he didn’t know!

  Mischief ran through her on little demon feet. The sensation of power made her giddy with lust. She licked her lips slowly and Trey watched, the grin fading. “I’m the mistress, am I?” she asked.

  He nodded.

  “Say it! Am I?”

  His erection jumped in his trews. “Yes,” he whispered.

  Anje bared her teeth. “Then strip. Every stitch.”

  “Wait, I—”

  “Do it!”

  Trey remained frozen for a moment. Then he ripped off his clothes with more haste than grace.

  “Come here.”

  But he hesitated. “Will you do something for me?”

  Anje raised a cool brow. “If you ask nicely I might. What is it?”

  “I got a bodice.” He flung garments aside until he unearthed something in purplish-blue velvet. “Your tits will look gorgeous in it.”

  “So?”

  Trey swallowed and Anje’s excitement intensified. He dropped to his knees and shuffled closer. “Wear it for me?”

  He waited a beat. “Please, Mistress?”

  Anje let the silence drag out. Trey’s cock jutted from his body, long and thick, swaying with his breath. Finally, she said, “Very well. Undress me.”

  Trey smirked. “At once, Mistress.”

  Remembering Brin’s tantalizing indolence, she remained passive, allowing him to draw off her garments, wrestle with her boots. As she leaned forward to settle her breasts into the bodice, she noted with dark satisfaction that his hands weren’t quite steady.

  Behind her, Trey whispered, “It’s a shame to cover your pretty wings.” He nibbled a line across her shoulder blade and down her spine before he tied the last lace. “There.”

  Anje shivered. The caress traveled across the silvery pattern on her skin in looping, sinuous trails, tingling over her rib cage, her belly, down to her dripping sex.

  At the back of her mind, a tiny flame grew where the Bond link was. Brin.

  As she rose and turned to display her body to Trey, Anje opened her inner self to the shaman. The result was all she could have wished for. A wave of warm, greedy interest that was not her own washed through her mind and body.

  Trey’s eyes widened at the sight of her and he gasped, “Lufra!” A drop of moisture seeped from the slit in the rosy head of his cock.

  “Don’t touch!” she said sharply and his hand fell to his thigh. The link hummed with approval and hard, driving lust.

  Looking down, she blinked. The swelling mounds of her breasts were thrust upward by the boning of the bodice in a sumptuous display, bared right to the dark edge of her areolas. The velvet hugged her waist and flared over her hips, stopping above her buttocks at the back and just shy of her mons in the front.

  “You like?” she asked, for the sheer pleasure of hearing the reply.

  “Gods, yes! Can I taste? Let me make you come.”

  “Not yet. Lean against the wall and spread your legs.” She had to stop to gasp for air. “Put the cream on. And take your time. I want to see everything.”

  “Anje, give me something! I’m dying here!”

  “No.” Sweet Mother, she could hardly wait! The link throbbed hard, once, and went still, crouched like a predator. “Do it.”

&
nbsp; Trey dipped two fingers into the pot and spread a thick layer of cream across the reddish curls in his crotch.

  Anje held her breath.

  “Lufra’s tits!” He arched so hard the back of his skull hit the wall with a solid thunk. “Shit!” His cock wagged, congested with blood.

  His eyes meet hers, stretched wide and golden with arousal. Helpless.

  Anje smiled slowly and ran her hands over her waist and down to her hips. “You got something extra for your money, Trey.” She was so wet, the honey on her thighs slicked her fingers. As she put them to her mouth and licked, Trey made a low, desperate sound. “Do the rest,” she said. “Balls and cock too.”

  “I’ll explode!”

  “I’ll do it for you.” She took a step forward.

  Hastily, he slathered more of the substance over his testicles.

  “Don’t miss any places,” Anje warned. “Your ass should be all bare too.”

  Trey’s breath sobbed, but he ran his slippery fingers back over the crease of his ass. The heat of the link intensified and she wondered how good Brin really was. Could he see through her eyes? Or just sense her emotions? Mother, she hoped he had some privacy!

  “How long, Trey?”

  “He said,” Trey writhed, “five minutes and wipe it off. Gods!” Sweat popped on his brow, ran over his collarbone. “My balls are so tight I can feel them in my throat.” He squeezed his eyes shut.

  “Look at me.”

  The expression on his face was so fierce, so agonized, Anje braced herself for the bruising impact of his body. But he sank his teeth into the cushion of his lower lip and held on, quivering. His hands gripped the mattress with such force, the threadbare covering shredded under his fingers.

  Her knees trembled so hard she could barely stand, but she asked quietly, “Where did you put the pieces of that torn shirt?”

  “Saddlebag,” he forced out. “Behind you.”

  Anje turned her back and heard him curse. As gracefully as she could, she knelt and bent over slowly, exposing her wet, flushed labia. There was total silence, save for the sound of his labored breath.

  She let the tension build, feeling the hot slide of moisture slippery on her inner thighs. When she turned back, holding the cloth, Trey had his hand on his cock. His head was tilted back and he was gasping.

  “Stop!” she rasped, but then she realized what he was doing. His fingers pressed so brutally into the base of his shaft that the flesh was white.

  Deeply moved, she dropped to her knees and kissed his open mouth. “Don’t hurt yourself, love. Not for my sake.”

  Trey buried a shaking hand in her hair. His eyes shone with unshed tears. “You never called me that before.” His lips curved. “I like it.”

  Anje blushed. “Hold still.” She wiped the cream away.

  Though her touch was gentle, Trey flinched. He took the cloth from her and finished the job himself, swearing continuously under his breath.

  He flung the cloth away and they stared down. His tender skin was pink and satiny, his balls plump and rosy, drawn up tight beneath his glistening cock. Naked as never before.

  “Oh.” Entranced, Anje reached out, but he caught her wrist in a strong grip.

  “Touch me and it’s over.” He blew out a breath. “Mistress.”

  “Can you go on?” she asked.

  “No. Yes. Let me make you offer.”

  She arched a brow. “Lufra’s Law?”

  “Anje, I’m burning alive. If I don’t get my cock into you soon, I’ll rupture something.”

  “Lie back.” She straddled his shoulders and arched over his mouth. “Service me, slave. No hands.”

  With a growl, Trey launched himself at her dripping folds. There was no finesse about his desperate hunger, he lashed and stabbed with his tongue, sucked and devoured, making noises like a starving fellwolf. It was messy and near violent and utterly glorious.

  Anje’s head fell forward, too heavy for her neck to support. A whisper of masculine triumph bloomed in the back of her mind and it triggered a convulsion in her sex, a ripple of dark sensation. As she slumped over Trey, suddenly boneless, she could have sworn she felt a phantom hand caress her breast, a voice murmuring, Sweet, sweet.

  “Now?” came a desperate rasp in her ear.

  She rolled over and smiled. Trey’s cock head shone with lubrication, very nearly purple with frustration. Anje touched it with a gentle fingertip and it vibrated, straining toward her body. She stroked over the taut velvet of his bare testicles and he quivered. “Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.” She raised her arms. “Fuck me ‘til I faint, slave.”

  “Lufra, yes!”

  But instead of spreading her legs and entering her, as she expected, Trey wrapped his hands around her waist and flipped her over facedown. He pulled her knees up and shoved them wide open with his thighs. “Yes!” His entire length slid into her in one luxurious plunge.

  A deep groan racked his body and he froze, gloved to the hilt by succulent flesh. His fingers dug into her hips with bruising force. Abruptly, he pulled out and rammed back in, over and over, faster and faster, giving her every inch of his hard cock with each stroke.

  Anje screamed. He was burning over her flesh. Her sheath, even her buttocks, stung with arousal. Ah Mother, the cream! His cock was rubbing the remnants of it all over her labia and up inside her channel. He struck the sweet spot behind her clit without mercy and it knotted up so hard it hurt.

  Her head thrashed on the mattress and Trey bellowed and came inside her in long, wet spurts, moaning with each spasm.

  “No, no,” she whimpered, rigid with frustration. Brin’s dark pleasure bloomed along the link.

  Trey laid his cheek on her quivering shoulder. “What’s wrong, Mistress?”

  “Gods, I’m burning!” She squirmed under his body and realized he was still hard inside her. “Make me come, slave!”

  “How would you like it, Mistress?”

  “I don’t care!” She twisted her head to glare. The orgasm had steadied him. His eyes twinkled at her and his smile was bland. “Just do it!”

  “Your wish is my command, Mistress.”

  Anje was so distracted by the delicious friction when he pulled out slowly and pushed back in, that she almost missed the glee in his tone. Trey reached past her and picked up the jar. Panicked, she blurted, “Stop! Trey, don’t—!”

  “Too late now, Mistress.”

  Brin’s lip-licking amusement floated across the link and she knew she was in trouble. A slick thumb pressed against the rosette of her anus and popped inside. For a moment, it felt cool and greasy, then it began to burn. And burn.

  Anje writhed, but Trey held her steady for protracted, gliding thrusts, timing them exquisitely with short, circling strokes of his thumb in her ass.

  “Must…thank the apothecary. So hard… Could fuck…you for…hours.” He dropped a kiss on her spine.

  Ah Mother of Mercy, she’d die! She was on fire, throwing her hips back at him in a demand for more, but he kept up the remorseless rhythm, driving her closer to the brink in steady increments. She gritted her teeth, sobbing. Hold on, hold on. Nearly there.

  He stopped.

  Anje teetered on the edge and slipped back. Snarling, she called him every foul name she could think of.

  “There, there.” He patted her bottom. “Don’t be angry, Mistress. Leave it to your faithful slave.”

  Abruptly, he pulled out of her body, leaving her bereft. Before she had time to do more than gasp, his cock butted at her anus and the head tucked past the tight ring of well-greased muscle. Simultaneously, he impaled her pussy with two fingers.

  Anje moaned and shuddered.

  Trey slung himself a little further inside her. His cock rubbed and fretted at her burning flesh, profoundly satisfying, filling a need she hadn’t been aware of. The more he fucked her, the better it felt, each outstroke a dragging pleasure, each thrust back in an edgy, painful delight. Every jab of his cock in her tight ass forced the flesh of
her core back on to his fingers, curled deep inside her.

  As Trey possessed her body, the shaman’s emotions swirled through her soul, a shadow of grief and yearning coloring the bedrock of his love and hunger. The combination of sensations was so potent, Anje was terrified she’d burst, fly apart, her skin too small to contain all she felt. Unintelligible sounds fell from her lips, as she jerked and writhed under the double assault.

  What must Brin be feeling, riding inside her as Trey reamed her ass so comprehensively? Did he know now how it felt to be fucked by a man? Gods!

  The thought was too much to bear. With a throttled scream, Anje threw herself back into Trey’s driving cock and impaling fingers. Time was suspended for an instant, as she ground herself frantically against him. Then, with a lurch, reality returned and she was released, in a storm so high and vicious, so totally gripping, she ceased to think at all.

  Gasping, she jolted under Trey’s body, lost in the paroxysm, almost fainting with the intensity of it. As if from miles away, she heard his hoarse shout, felt the hot wash of his seed in her greedy bowels.

  Her knees slipped from under her and she collapsed. As Trey followed her down, warm and heavy over her back, she thought she felt strong arms receive her in a comforting clasp, a whisper of love and approval in her mind. Gratefully, she closed her eyes and lay unmoving.

  It seemed a long time later that Trey kissed her cheek. “Anje love?”

  She cranked one eye open. “Uh?”

  “That was… That was…”

  Anje laughed weakly and rolled over. “Fucking gorgeous is the phrase you want, poet.” She ran her hand over the hard planes of his chest and leaned up to nuzzle one freckled shoulder. “Ow!” She winced at the twinge in her ass and gave him a nip. “Some slave you turned out to be!”

  He smiled crookedly and patted her hip. “I aim to please, Mistress. Here.” He held out a damp cloth. “This will help.”

  “Don’t suppose there’s running water?”

  Trey snorted. “Nope. I had to go downstairs.” An expression of profound discomfort crossed his face. “I ran into Braithie.” He rolled his shoulders as though dislodging something. “She said I’d saved her life. Gods, Anje, she hoisted her skirts then and there and offered me a free fuck. It was pathetic.” He sighed. “Poor, stupid little thing. What a life.”