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Savage Surrender

Page 2

by Deanna Ashford


  ‘Maybe so, Chancellor,’ she said in an icy tone, her mind in total turmoil. ‘But now this is at an end, I would be obliged if you would depart. I wish to be alone.’

  Gerek strode into his bedchamber. Sunlight streamed in through the two, deep-set window alcoves, one each side of the large fireplace, the hearth of which was empty as the spring weather was uncommonly mild. Dominating the room was a large four-poster bed, with thick, red velvet bed curtains that could be tightly drawn in the chill of winter. A matching red velvet spread covered the bed, and thrown across the top was a skin of creamy white fur. No one Gerek knew had ever laid eyes on such a pelt. Kitara had purchased it from a travelling merchant who claimed it came from a rare white bear that only lived in the frozen wastes of the far north, well beyond the borders of Harn. Other skins, mostly wolf or brown bear, were scattered upon the floor, almost totally concealing the cold stone slabs.

  Gerek shrugged off his leather jerkin, dropped it on the floor and sat down on the bed. He had never met Sarin, but knew him to be a firm, sometimes brutal monarch, who ruled Percheron with an iron hand. However, he was also a patron of the arts, and worshipped beauty above all else. Gerek was certain that Rianna’s loveliness would win his heart and perhaps in time Rianna would come to care for Sarin.

  He wondered if Kitara would have agreed with his decision. Would she have been prepared to sacrifice her daughter for the good of Harn? Even now, after all these years, he still missed Kitara. He only had to close his eyes to conjure up a vision of her wondrous beauty. Her musky feminine scent had driven him wild with desire every time he had been close to her. After her loss he’d spent many hours just lying on his bed, holding her garments close, comforted by the lingering smell of her. But that sweet scent had long since faded from her belongings.

  A vision of Kitara in all her naked glory filled his mind; long firm limbs, sleek hips, and a waist so narrow he could span it with his hands. Her breasts had been perfection itself, full and uptilted, tipped by dark brown nipples that begged for the touch of his lips.

  Gerek sat down on his bed, his mind consumed by thoughts of Kitara. He would have given everything he possessed to once again touch the soft curve of her belly and the sun-kissed red fleece of her sex. His fingers ached to explore the secret pink crevices between her shapely thighs, to feel the moist welcoming warmth as he plunged his manhood into her again and again, while she begged him to move harder and faster.

  He groaned softly as the familiar heat of desire flooded his belly, forcing blood into his groin and filling his flesh until it expanded and grew firmer. His penis began to throb insistently, pressing against the constricting leather of his breeches. Gerek savoured the pleasure ache of his arousal, enmeshed in dreams of his lost love.

  His private thoughts were interrupted by a cautious knock on his door.

  ‘Enter,’ he growled, irritated by the intrusion.

  ‘My lord,’ said a nervous-looking page as he entered the room. ‘Chancellor Lesand bade me bring you this.’ The page moved cautiously towards the bed. He was carrying a large pewter tray on which reposed a heavy green bottle and a silver goblet. ‘Wine from Lord Sarin’s vineyard.’

  ‘Pour me some.’ This was a rare treat for Gerek; usually he drank ale or mead, both of which were produced locally. There were no vineyards in Harn, as the weather was too inclement, so wine was uncommonly expensive and only drunk on special occasions.

  He watched the page place the tray on a carved oak table and carefully pour a generous measure of wine into the goblet. ‘Bring it here,’ Gerek ordered.

  ‘My lord.’ The page carried the goblet over to the bed, his hand shaking slightly as he handed it to Gerek.

  Gerek took a large gulp of the rich red wine, feeling its smooth warmth slide down to his stomach. It tasted good, of warm sunshine and ripe summer fruit. ‘A fine wine. Send my thanks to the Chancellor. Your name, boy?’

  ‘Adan, my lord,’ the page stuttered.

  ‘Adan, I wish you to seek out the maidservant known as Jenna. It is likely you will find her in the sewing room at this time of the day. Bid her come to me.’

  ‘Yes, my lord,’ Adan replied.

  ‘And hurry, boy,’ Gerek growled.

  After Adan departed, Gerek drained the goblet in a few gulps and let it drop to the floor. Of all the castle maidservants who regularly shared his bed, Jenna was his favourite. She wasn’t exceptionally beautiful or fine of figure, but she had a wild uninhibited approach to lovemaking that pleased Gerek. The other maidservants just lay there and let him do what he wanted. Jenna, on the other hand, took the initiative and guided his pleasure to even greater heights.

  The wine increased the fire in his loins, and Gerek shifted position, easing the tight leather of his breeches away from his swollen shaft. Doubtless Jenna would not take long in coming to him, as she was always ready and eager for sex whatever time of day or night he sent for her.

  He listened to the familiar sounds drifting in through the open windows; the idle chatter of servants, the clatter of horses’ hooves on the cobblestones, and the distant clash of metal upon metal as his men-at-arms practised their swordplay. Life in Harn was good, he reflected. He had a comfortable home, food in his belly, servants to do his bidding, and a number of willing wenches to share his bed.

  Moments later, Jenna entered the room breathless from running, her cheeks flushed, her hair awry.

  ‘Protector,’ she smiled. ‘You sent for me?’

  ‘I have need of you.’ Gerek hoped Jenna’s passions would help him forget his concerns for Rianna’s future. It mattered not how bad he felt, he told himself, her fate was set and there was nothing he could do to change it. ‘Come here and take off my boots,’ he ordered.

  Jenna stepped forward, and knelt to ease off Gerek’s long leather boots. The first slid off easily, but the other proved more difficult. She turned her back to him, knelt astride his lower leg and closed her sturdy thighs. Gerek braced his bare foot against one cheek of her round bottom, while she pulled at the heel of the boot. The boot seemed reluctant to forsake Gerek’s leg, but eventually it came off, leaving his foot still between her thighs. With a husky laugh he pressed it upwards, trying to rub her crotch through the thick worsted of her skirt.

  ‘What is your desire now, lord?’ she asked as she rose to face him.

  ‘Need you ask?’ He grinned wickedly. ‘Remove your dress.’

  Jenna’s work-roughened fingers reached for the small bone buttons at the front of her blue wool gown. Usually she took her time, unfastening them slowly and seductively in order to heighten his arousal. Today, she seemed eager to be rid of the garment. She pulled her bodice apart, ripping the buttons from their fabric loops, heedless of the damage to her gown.

  Jenna never bothered with undergarments, and her large breasts spilt temptingly from the opening. They jiggled slightly as she unfastened the rest of the buttons to reveal her softly curving stomach. Thick curly brown hair, even darker than the hair on her head, covered her mound. It brushed the juncture of her thighs, which she kept firmly pressed together. Gerek knew what delights she was concealing; her secret flesh was rosy and inviting, the colour deepening when she was fully aroused.

  The other maidservants smelt of soap and little else. Jenna, however, always smelt of spring flowers and fragrant herbs. Many times she had fed him some strange concoction brewed from herbs to help enhance their lovemaking. Jenna’s mother was a midwife and healer, as her mother before her had been, but Jenna’s interest in herbs extended no further than their use in prolonging pleasure. Once, she had rubbed a handful of strange leaves all over his penis. The skin had stung and his shaft had become so hard it had felt as it might burst. It had remained erect for hours and hours, and they had made love all night.

  Jenna let her dress drop to the floor and slipped off her sandals. Her breasts were full and pear-shaped, the tips drawn out somewhat and ending in large reddish nipples, surrounded by aureoles of a deeper reddish brown.
/>   ‘Loosen your hair,’ Gerek said hungrily, as the fire in his loins increased.

  She lifted her hands to unpin her long hair. As she strained her arms upwards, her breasts were raised high on her ribcage, making them appear even fuller and more rounded than usual. The skin tightened and her nipples swelled provocatively, turning into two firm cones, begging to be touched.

  The small dark tufts of hair in her armpits were revealed, and Gerek recalled how Lesand had told him that, in Percheron, women believed such hair unattractive and removed it from their bodies. He wondered what Jenna would looked like totally denuded. When she opened her legs, the swollen pink lips of her sex would be easily visible; such a sight he would find immensely arousing.

  Hairpins scattered across the floor as Jenna shook her head and her long hair cascaded down over her shoulders and back. Strands of hair fell over her breasts, almost covering them, apart from two hard nubbins peeping enticingly through the brown curls.

  Gerek went to unfasten the ties that held his white linen shirt together. ‘No, lord. Let me attend to that.’ Leaning forward Jenna pushed his hands away.

  Letting his arms fall limply to his sides, Gerek watched Jenna undo the knotted fastenings. Her hair fell forward, sweetly scented strands brushing his cheeks, while her voluptuous breasts jiggled enticingly in front of his eyes. He could not resist touching one, cupping the generous globe in his palm and feeling its weight. He squeezed the soft flesh, hearing her indrawn hiss of pleasure as he began to knead it gently.

  Gerek’s hands were toughened by many years of training with the sword, axe and bow. The tips of his fingers were now as hard as old leather. He rubbed the pad of his thumb over her nipple, grazing the sensitive nub which grew in size, jutting out obscenely. He milked the tiny teat, rolling it between his fingers. Jenna quivered with pleasure and gave a breathy moan. Straining his head forward, Gerek went to pull the nipple into his mouth.

  ‘Not yet,’ Jenna implored. ‘Let me undress you first, my lord.’ She pressed her palm down hard on the mound at his groin.

  ‘Hurry!’ he groaned as his pleasure ache increased. His cock throbbed excitedly, the swollen end pulsing, but it could grow no bigger, confined as it was by the tight leather.

  Smiling, Jenna removed her hand. ‘Not too quickly,’ she whispered huskily.

  She eased off his linen shirt to reveal his broad, well-muscled chest. His skin was deeply tanned and marked by scars from wounds received in battle. A thick mat of crisp brown curls covered his chest, descending in an arrow towards his flat belly. Sinking to her knees, she ran her hands through the springy hair, caressing the raised ridges of his many scars. His iron-hard stomach was banded by a wide leather belt. Jenna fumbled with the ornate silver buckle, struggling to unfasten it, but her eyes kept straying to the swollen mound of his sex where the soft brown leather of his breeches was stretched drum-tight over the engorged flesh.

  Gerek groaned, his senses aroused to fever pitch. The musky scent of desire seeped from Jenna’s body, and he could hardly bear to wait a moment longer; his sex screamed out for the touch of her lips and fingers.

  ‘I can see your need is urgent.’ Jenna unfastened the buckle, letting the belt drop to his sides, then she tugged at the laces of his breeches. The thin cords became tangled as she tried to unfasten them. She cursed under her breath and pulled harder, snapping one of the cords in her eagerness to release Gerek’s phallus from its confinement.

  At last the laces gave way, allowing her to pull his breeches apart. Gerek’s engorged cock reared out of the opening. The stem was rigid, the bulb at the top hard and a dark purplish red, while a tiny bead of moisture dangled like an enticing dewdrop from the narrow mouth at its tip.

  ‘Pleasure me, now,’ Gerek demanded.

  Jenna licked her lips, pleased with his swift arousal. Almost three weeks had passed since he had last sent for her, and she’d begun to think he was tiring of her company. She comforted herself with the thought that he had sent for no other maidservant and slept alone, eventually convincing herself that his lack of desire was only caused by his concern over the imminent marriage of the Lady Rianna.

  ‘Yes, lord,’ she said softly, as Gerek raised his arms above his head. The muscles in his chest stretched, his belly tightened, and his penis jutted upwards even higher.

  The sight of him dressed only in the form-fitting leather breeches with his sex exposed was powerfully erotic, adding an extra facet to Jenna’s pleasure. Trembling in her eagerness, she jerked his breeches apart even more, pulling the tight leather away from the base of his cock. It reared from its bed of pubic hair, which was much thicker and coarser than that on his chest. Gently she eased his soft seed sac from its hiding place. Every month that he bedded her, she hoped that one of his seeds would take root within her body and grow into the son Gerek had always desired, but her prayers had remained unanswered.

  Placing her hands on his thighs, Jenna pushed his legs apart as wide as they would comfortably stretch and stepped between them. She leant her head forward, allowing her long hair to fall across his chest and belly, so that with every movement of her head the soft strands would tantalisingly stroke his flesh.

  First, she just touched the rigid shaft, gauging his readiness for fulfilment. The skin was tight, but not as yet taut as it could be. When it was fully engorged the surface was stretched so hard that the skin turned smooth and shiny. Curving her hand around the base, just above the root, she began to pump up and down, moving only half a finger length at first, not wanting to bring him to a climax too swiftly. With slow precision she slid her hand higher, until she was milking the shaft in a smooth erotic rhythm.

  Gerek’s eyes closed, and his mouth parted in a series of breathy moans. He rolled his head from side to side. ‘Yes, oh, yes,’ he groaned.

  His penis grew iron-hard, while the tiny bead of moisture at its mouth elongated and increased in size. Eventually it became too heavy to remain where it was, and rolled slowly down the side of the head. Jenna stopped it with her finger, rubbing the salty moisture all over the domed tip.

  Gerek shuddered, his stomach muscles trembling. ‘Pump harder,’ he grunted through gritted teeth, pushing his hips up towards Jenna. ‘My need is great. I have denied my body for too long.’

  ‘For far too long,’ Jenna replied huskily.

  Lifting the seed sac, she gently stroked the velvety skin. The sac had increased in size, the balls it contained hardening into two firm stones. Employing just the tip of her tongue she licked his sex head. When it was shiny with her saliva she pursed her lips and slid them smoothly over the glans. She began to suck, pulling at the inflamed flesh, running her tongue around the rim until she heard him groan softly again.

  With one hand she pumped the shaft, while the other stroked the root of his sex, the bag of his testicles, and the tender ridge of skin just behind it. She slid her lips further down the stem, taking more and more of it into her mouth, until the head of his cock hit the back of her throat.

  Gerek stretched his body, arching his back and pushing his hip upwards, trying to force all of the stem into her mouth. Jenna accommodated as much of his shaft as she could, while she squeezed her thighs together. The heat of her own desire was throbbing richly inside her sex. She was still savouring the sensation when she felt Gerek’s organ pulse and his muscles tense. She acted swiftly. Pulling his penis from her mouth, she placed her thumb on one side of the rim of his cock head and two fingers the other side, then she pressed them hard together for a few seconds.

  ‘What!’ Gerek gasped, opening his eyes.

  Jenna knew his urge to ejaculate had vanished. Almost simultaneously his erection began to subside. Grey eyes, which had been glazed with pleasure, hardened in fury. ‘Forgive me, lord. You will recover in a moment,’ Jenna said, scared by his sudden anger. ‘I just wanted to extend your pleasure, and prevent you from finishing too swiftly.’

  ‘Wench, you forget yourself,’ he growled. But he made no attempt to push her aw
ay as she ran her fingers over his gradually softening organ. Jenna took that as a sign he was willing to overlook her audacious actions and wanted her to continue.

  ‘Let me show you,’ she whispered, touching the wrinkled skin of his shaft with the tip of her tongue. She began to lick its entire length, employing long leisurely strokes, while her hands caressed his chest and played with his nipples, squeezing and pinching the tender buds.

  Jenna’s moist warm tongue lapping at his penis, and the growing ache in his nipples soon served to excite Gerek and revive his arousal. He drew in his breath. ‘Do not presume to do such a thing again without my permission,’ he warned, but it was obvious that his anger was slipping away as his desire began to grow once more.

  His cock, glistening with her saliva, stirred. Life flooded back into Gerek’s flaccid flesh. The shaft began to harden, slowly growing rigid again. Jenna pressed gentle kisses on the stem, watching the skin gradually stretch into tautness, and the bulb swell until it was firm and shiny. His cock reared into the air, straight and proud, whereupon Jenna began to smack it around the root using just the pads of her fingers. The colour of the stem deepened to a rich red, while the plum turned a darker purple. With each rhythmic smack, it jerked in unison, the skin stretching back so tight that it looked ready to burst.

  Gerek’s muscles were hard and knotted, the tendons in his neck stood out, and sweat beaded his brow. He groaned imploringly, making Jenna shiver with pleasure, the heat in her belly growing stronger and stronger. Her only desire now was to be impaled on his thick shaft of flesh and to feel its thrusting deep inside her vagina. Moisture seeped hungrily from her sex, contributing to the increasing stickiness between her legs.

  ‘Let me feel you inside me,’ she begged. ‘It has been so long since I have been filled with your manhood. My body aches for the joy of it.’

 

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