Savage Surrender

by Deanna Ashford

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Copyright

  Yasmin allowed the slave to massage the sweet-smelling cream into her sex as Rianna looked on, colouring with embarrassment. Yasmin lifted her hips and urged the slave’s hand against her until she gave in to her climax. Determinedly Rianna concentrated on washing herself, pushing away the helping hands of the other slaves. Yasmin, pink-faced and happy, smiled at Rianna. ‘Your upbringing has clearly denied you much pleasure,’ she said.

  ‘Life here is very different,’ Rianna replied, wondering what other humiliations were in store for her.

  Savage Surrender

  Deanna Ashford

  Chapter One

  A SHAFT OF sunlight broke through the clouds, streaming in through the large, arched window at the far end of the great hall of the castle of Nort, home of Gerek, Protector of Harn. Golden rays pierced the gloomy interior, focusing on the raised dais in the centre of the great hall where a man and woman were standing.

  ‘It is not possible,’ Gerek, Protector of Harn said with controlled fury. ‘I’ve told you that any number of times before.’

  ‘So you have.’ Rianna glared at her father, her green eyes full of defiance. ‘But I refuse to accept that a woman cannot be named Protector of Harn. It is my birthright. I am your only child, yet you intend to name my spineless cousin, Otis, as your heir.’

  ‘Because I have no other choice,’ Gerek replied in frustration, high colour staining his weather-beaten cheeks. ‘The law clearly states that the Protector must be a man.’

  ‘Huh! Otis is no man,’ Rianna sneered. ‘He’s a coward and a fool. Harn will not be safe in his hands.’

  ‘Otis will be well advised by those that surround him. I have made sure of that.’

  ‘But I would make a far better Protector.’

  ‘Maybe so, Rianna,’ Gerek agreed. ‘But the law clearly states a woman cannot succeed.’

  ‘Then change it!’ she challenged.

  Gerek sank on to his ornately carved throne. ‘Nothing is that simple. Even if I wanted it, the people would never accept such a change. Centuries of tradition cannot be ignored. Here in Harn, men are warriors and masters, while women are homemakers and bearers of children.’

  ‘But my mother was a warrior,’ Rianna stormed, frustrated by his old-fashioned rigidity.

  ‘And I respected Kitara’s right to be a warrior – it was part of her heritage. But you are not your mother and you must defer to my wishes.’

  ‘If only mother were still alive,’ Rianna said sadly. ‘She would make you see that I am right.’

  ‘I would give everything I own to see your mother just once again. Nine years have passed since her death, but I still miss her.’ Gerek’s expression softened. ‘You are so like her, my child.’

  Rianna was the most beautiful woman in his kingdom. She was tall, almost as tall as Gerek, with long shapely limbs, and skin as pale and flawless as alabaster. Her large, green eyes dominated her heart-shaped face, their shimmering depths as beguiling as the deepest of forest pools. Long, luxuriant curls of a glorious golden-red framed her face, enhancing her delicate beauty. Rianna’s striking looks turned the heads and stirred the loins of every man that laid eyes on her.

  ‘Mother would never have made me marry a man I’ve never even met.’

  ‘Your mother was well aware of the responsibilities that come with our position, Rianna. This alliance will ensure peace between Harn and Percheron. Your future husband is no ordinary man. Lord Sarin rules a land four times the size of Harn. He has a wealth and power I can never aspire to. Most women would be happy to be betrothed to him.’

  Rianna proudly raised her head. ‘But I am not most women. Only devotion to you and my loyalty to my country will send me to Percheron, nothing else.’

  She had always known that her marriage would be arranged, but expected to be allowed some choice in the matter of her future husband. That was before Lord Sarin had invaded a number of small principalities on the western borders of Percheron and Harn. If it had not been for her hasty betrothal, Harn might well have suffered a similar fate. Gerek’s army could never withstand the military might of Percheron, and her marriage had been arranged many months ago. But the arrival yesterday of Chancellor Lesand, the personal representative of Lord Sarin, made her uncomfortably aware of what the future now held for her.

  ‘I wish I could let you choose you own husband, Rianna. But I am sure you will grow fond of Sarin. Perhaps even one day you will come to love him as much as I loved your mother.’ Gerek rose to his feet and moved to take Rianna in his arms, but she backed away from him.

  ‘No, Father. Tender words of encouragement will not make me change my mind.’

  ‘Neither will your protestations alter my position on this matter,’ Gerek said harshly. ‘In order to ensure the future safety of Harn, the marriage must go ahead. The final details will be settled and the marriage contract will be signed this very evening. In the circumstances, I suggest that you order the maidservants to begin packing. Chancellor Lesand wishes to depart before the end of the week.’

  ‘Rianna! I have been looking for you,’ Veba scolded, rising from her seat in the window embrasure just outside her charge’s room. ‘Where have you been?’

  ‘In the stables,’ Rianna replied. ‘I was seeing to Freya. Joab, one of the stable-boys, says that she is off her food.’ The pretty white mare had been a recent gift from her father, and Rianna loved her dearly. ‘You worry too much, Veba.’

  ‘Worry? Why not?’ Veba seemed agitated. ‘Look at the state of you, child. Your dress is filthy and your hair is a mess.’

  ‘No matter, the gown is old.’ Rianna glanced down; the hem of her dress was damp and muddied. ‘I shall not be taking this garment with me. Father has provided me with many new gowns, and together with the ones –’

  ‘Hush,’ Veba interrupted. ‘You should not tarry here. The Chancellor is waiting in your chamber.’

  ‘In my chamber? For what reason?’ Rianna frowned. ‘Is that not a little improper?’

  ‘It appears that a short ceremony has to be performed before the marriage contract can be signed,’ Veba explained. ‘Chancellor Lesand wishes no delay. He intends to carry out the ceremony as soon as possible.’

  Rianna was bewildered. No mention had been made of any ceremony during all the discussions with the Chancellor and her father. ‘Very well,’ she said with an irritated sigh. Beckoning Veba to accompany her, Rianna pulled open the heavy oak door and stepped inside her room.

  The stone walls of Rianna’s chamber were hung with brightly coloured tapestries depicting the many flowers and animals of Harn. A number of large, cream sheepskins were sewn together to cover the cold stone flags. To the right, in an alcove set apart from the rest of the room, was a wooden four-poster bed, hung with lavish curtains of lemon brocade. There was little other furniture, only a couple of chairs and three carved oak chests which held most of Rianna’s clothes.

  ‘Lady Rianna,’ greeted Chancellor Lesand as he rose with graceful elegance from the chair in front of the window. ‘You have returned. I was becoming a little concerned.’

  ‘I was not aware you were waiting for me, Chancellor. After talking to my father, I visited the stables. I am sorry if I kept you waiting longer than necessary.’

  ‘It is I who should apologise,’ Lesand smiled cautiously. ‘I a
m intruding on your privacy, my lady.’

  Rianna stifled her irritation at the intrusion. ‘No matter, Chancellor. I understand you wish to perform some kind of ceremony?’

  ‘Indeed,’ he nodded gravely. ‘It is a necessary prerequisite to the marriage contract.’

  ‘It is odd the matter was not mentioned to me before.’ Rianna was very aware of the tangled state of her hair and shabbiness of her dress. Lesand had never seen her so ill-attired.

  The Chancellor, as usual, looked immaculate in a long, blue velvet robe embroidered with gold. Although well past fifty, he was still an attractive man. Tall and slender, with a narrow face and rather prominent nose, he had the olive skin and dark hair that appeared prevalent among the men of Percheron. The soldiers who accompanied Lesand were all clean shaven, but he had a small, distinguished-looking, goatee beard.

  Rianna found Lesand fascinating and so very different from all the other men she knew. Gerek and his courtiers never wore such elaborate garments or paid so much attention to their appearance, and the warriors of Harn did not pomade their hair or manicure their nails.

  The Chancellor looked uneasy, perhaps even embarrassed. ‘A regretful oversight, I assure you. The ceremony is necessary to the wedding contract.’ He cleared his throat. ‘The prospective bride must be examined to ensure she has no unsightly scars or defects. Also it is necessary to confirm that she has not been defiled by another man. Above all else, Sarin’s bride must be a virgin.’

  Rianna paled. ‘Does my father know of these requirements?’

  ‘He does,’ Veba confirmed, moving to her side and gently taking hold of her arm. ‘My child, most noblemen expect a virgin bride. It is not unusual for them to ask for it to be physically proven.’

  ‘That is so,’ Lesand added gravely.

  The information did not make Rianna feel any better, but she knew she would have to submit to this indignity. Her father would never forgive her if she refused the examination; it was even likely he would insist it was carried out forcibly.

  ‘And who will conduct this ceremony?’ she asked, doing her best to hide her discomfort.

  ‘I will,’ Lesand acknowledged, inclining his head.

  ‘You!’ Rianna exclaimed, her eyes opening wide in surprise.

  ‘Yes. The examination must be carried out by one of Lord Sarin’s most trusted servants. Therefore, he has assigned me to the task.’

  ‘But I thought only a woman . . .?’

  ‘In the circumstances that is not possible,’ Lesand replied with polite regret. ‘I assure you my lady, it will pain me as much as it does you.’

  ‘Then I have no choice?’ Rianna’s voice shook with emotion.

  ‘Come, my sweet.’ Veba tenderly led Rianna towards the bed as she whispered, ‘You are the daughter of the Protector. You must submit to this examination with royal dignity.’

  There was nothing dignified about this, Rianna thought heatedly.

  While the Chancellor turned diplomatically towards the window to afford Rianna some privacy, Veba began to unlace the back of her gown. Once Rianna was naked, Veba helped her to lie down on the bed, then covered her with a white linen sheet.

  ‘Courage,’ Veba whispered. ‘Bear your discomfort in silence. Most noble ladies have to endure this.’

  ‘But not at the hands of a man, usually it is a midwife,’ Rianna muttered.

  Veba said nothing more, just walked over to the Chancellor and advised him that her mistress was ready. Ordering the nurse to stay by the window, Lesand stepped over to the bed, pointedly ignoring Rianna’s expression of unease.

  ‘I have told your maid she may remain as long as she does not interfere with my task,’ Lesand said in a soft reassuring tone. ‘Now please turn on to your stomach.’

  Rianna rolled over, keeping a tight hold on the sheet. But there was little point in her display of modesty, for as soon as she was settled, Lesand pulled the sheet down to her feet, exposing the whole of her body to his view. She stiffened, pressing her face into her pillow. Her hands clenched at her sides. The Chancellor was examining her, looking for disfiguring blemishes or scars. The room was quite chilly, but Rianna felt hot with shame and embarrassment. She began to wish her body was less than perfect, that she had a birthmark or terrible scar. Then Lord Sarin would refuse to wed her and she could remain in Harn forever.

  ‘You are beautiful, Lady Rianna.’ He touched her back, running his fingers down the length of her spine until he reached the crack of her bottom. ‘Your skin is as soft as the petal of a rose. My master will be well pleased with his bride.’

  So far Rianna had managed to retain her composure. However, she could not hold back her gasp of horror as he pulled her buttocks apart, exposing her tiny nether mouth. The terrible intimacy made her want to shrink away from him, beg him to stop. She clenched her teeth, forcing herself to remain motionless while he stroked the small, puckered entrance to her anus. But then he pressed against the ring of flesh as if intending to force his finger inside. ‘No,’ Rianna gasped.

  ‘Do not concern yourself,’ Lesand said coolly. ‘I have seen enough.’ He removed his hands from her body. ‘Now, please turn over so that I can complete my task.’

  Reluctantly, Rianna rolled on to her back, knowing that her breasts and sex were now exposed to his view. She half-closed her eyes, peeping at him through her long lashes, while a crimson flush of humiliation stained her cheeks.

  Lesand leant forward, touching her lightly on the shoulder. His fingers slid caressingly over her creamy skin. Moulding his palms to her contours, he cupped her breasts and squeezed her tender flesh. The feel of his cool hands was not entirely unpleasant, and when he touched her nipples, rubbing them with his fingertips and plucking at the tiny nubs, they began to harden, growing into sensitive peaks.

  ‘Your body was made for love,’ he said huskily.

  Rianna did not reply; she was too intent on steeling herself as his hands moved lower. He stroked her belly and ran his fingers through the red-gold curls at her pubis. Rianna swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. Oddly enough the caressing touch had become almost pleasurable. She felt a sudden desire to relax completely, let her legs fall open and give herself up to the strange languor that was overtaking her limbs.

  She gave a soft involuntary sigh as Lesand’s hands slipped between her thighs. He cupped her sex, pressing against her vulva with the palm of his hand. Rianna’s sex was hot, her pouting, pink lips swollen. He slid one finger into the warm moist opening, and stroked the soft inner flesh. As Lesand began to explore her secret valley, the heat of her embarrassment was replaced by another, more fiery warmth, deep within her belly. Gradually the compelling motion of his fingers became more and more enticing.

  Rianna clenched her hands at her sides feeling confused by the amazing sensations that were building inside her. She no longer knew for certain if she wanted Chancellor Lesand to finish or continue.

  ‘Part your legs wide, then bend your knees and lift your hips towards me,’ he commanded.

  Modesty overcame her again. She forced her limbs to move, her legs trembling as she did as she was ordered. The most secret parts of herself were being revealed to a virtual stranger. An unfamiliar moisture filled her sex and she prayed that Chancellor Lesand would not detect her body’s strange response to his touch.

  ‘Don’t be afraid, this will not hurt.’ Lesand took a small porcelain jar from his pocket and dipped his finger in the sweet smelling oil contained within the pot.

  Rianna tensed, biting her lip as she watched Lesand lean forward. He carefully peeled apart her swollen sex lips to inspect the deep pink flesh within. Moving his fingers along the valley he anointed it with the aromatic oil. The viscous liquid coated her secret flesh, polishing it to perfection. His oiled fingers delicately brushed the tip of her clitoris, the touch as gentle as a butterfly’s wing. The sensation was exquisite, and sent a thousand bowstrings reverberating through her body. Rianna shivered and unconsciously pushed her hips up towards him.
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  She heard Lesand make a sound from deep in his throat as his fingers circled the delicate bud. He stroked the tiny nubbin, then squeezed it gently and she jerked her legs in surprise. Why did she gain such immense pleasure when he touched that one small portion of her body? An unfamiliar, aching tightness was growing inside her that begged for release.

  Suddenly, to her consternation, Lesand’s attention moved away from the bud. She wanted to cry out and beg him to continue touching the tender spot, as the tiny, throbbing nubbin wept for his touch. Determinedly she held back her moan of disappointment and stayed silent, cursing her body’s lewd immodesty.

  She had known all along why Lesand was examining her, but she still tensed in surprise when he began to massage the tight ring of flesh that protected her womanly sheath. It gradually began to soften and relax, enabling him to slide two fingers deep inside her.

  Soon his searching fingers discovered the fine membrane of her virginity. ‘You are fortunate that the proof of your chastity is intact, my lady,’ he said with a faint smile. ‘I hear that you are a great horsewoman. Exercise can often damage such a fragile barrier of flesh.’

  Rianna expected him to withdraw his fingers from her at once, but they lingered inside her, gently stroking the velvety walls. She shuddered, relishing the unexpected enjoyment the intimate caresses were invoking deep within her feminine parts. Her inner flesh rippled with excited pleasure, and of their own accord, her hips began to move in an accompanying rhythm. The stretching and stroking sensations were leading her upwards towards the brink of something wonderful and unknown. Just as she was about to reach the summit, Lesand gently eased his fingers from her body, leaving her moist, throbbing and wanting. He looked down at her, a calm, unreadable expression on his face. Rianna blushed and clamped her legs together, feeling confused by her unbidden response and inwardly bewailing her unseemly behaviour.

  ‘I regret I had to be so intrusive,’ Lesand said apologetically. Pressing her legs down on the bed, he covered her trembling body with the sheet. ‘Lord Sarin ordered me to gauge your sensitivity to matters of a sensual nature. Being a man of Epicurean tastes, he wishes to be assured that his bride will be a willing partner in the pleasures of the flesh.’