by Lila Dubois
Her soft palms against his smooth flesh, her nails digging small worried crescents into this skin, were the signal he needed.
Inching back out slightly, Anleeh surged into her, taking something from her that could never be replaced, but taking it with such sweet care that there was joy in it. For Siara the pain was fleeting, the pleasure of finally becoming a woman in truth, and the tender consideration he, the man she had longed for and now finally had, showed her overwhelmed the pain of her flesh.
He appeared more concerned than she, raining reckless kisses over her cheeks.
“Are you alright?”
“Yes, it did not hurt greatly.”
“I’m going to move, tell me if it is too soon.” Between her legs, his hips began to rock, the smooth push of his flesh into her body soon changing from foreign and uncomfortable to rich and welcome.
Bracing her heels, Siara dug fingers into Anleeh’s shoulders and rocked up against him.
“That’s it, lover, show me, let your body tell me what you need, how fast, how slow, how long.”
No longer content to lie passively, Siara lifted herself, wrapping her arms around him, her back raised from the floor, their sweaty chests pressed together.
Again and again Anleeh’s cock pressed into her newly opened body. His movements quickened, the angle of his thrusts changing so that each stroke pressed against her clit.
“Please, please…” she begged. She craved the pleasure she’d felt last night, instinctively knew that it would be a thousand times more powerful with his cock lodged inside her body.
“I’m close, lover, as soon as you come I will.”
“I need…”
“What?”
“Harder, or faster, or more slowly… I don’t know, but I need.”
“Then I will give you all that and more.” Anleeh shifted, nudging her to lie back, his straining arms flexing as he once more propped himself up, freeing one hand to roam down her belly and between the lips of her sex.
When he gently scissored his fingertips around her clit, Siara yelped in pleasure, the cry escalating to a scream when he added three long hard thrusts, slamming her into a deep, hard orgasm.
Unable to hold off, Anleeh pulled his fingers from between her legs, hooked his arms around her shoulders and slammed into her, extending her orgasm with quick hard thrusts. Pulling out at the last moment, Anleeh spilled his seed against her belly, his hot forehead coming to rest in the soft hollow of her neck.
Siara, overwhelmed by the evening’s activities slipped into a deep sleep.
Chapter Seven
They did not leave the next morning. They could not. Great drifts of snow had sealed the cabin. Though the storm was gone, the world was marked with its chilling touch.
Siara, wrapped in a fur blanket and wearing half-laced boots, slipped out through the small space Anleeh had been able to clear by shoving the stable door open.
“This is snow,” Anleeh’s statement echoed in the unnatural hush.
He stood a dozen yards from the cabin, his body sunk to the knees in the white hills. Anleeh should have been dwarfed by the mounds of chilly white, but in his dark furs, the cloak building up his shoulders, Anleeh appeared threatening, a beast more cunning than any other in the woods, willing and able to take on nature itself.
“Careful you don’t get cold,” he called back.
Nodding, and grateful that he did not order her inside, Siara reached out one bare arm and sank it, elbow deep, into the mound of snow. The texture still fascinated her. It appeared solid but gave easily; it appeared soft, but the top had crunched as if covered with a hard skin.
“Please don’t become distracted and leave your hand in the snow.” His voice was laced with amusement and she wondered how long she’d been standing there, elbow deep in a snow drift.
“Hmmm? Oh yes.”
Mind on the pleasant puzzle of snow, Siara retreated into the cabin, planting herself before the fire with her journals and carefully chronicling the things she’d learned. From the blizzard to the unique design of the stable and cabin, the texture variants of snow and the creation of her new ‘clothing,’ Siara dutifully chronicled her experiences, letting her quill flow, ink seeping into the lines of her fingertips as she filled page after page.
I can still feel the spanking today. My muscles ache as if bruised, but there are no marks save a faint pink tint. The pleasure came both from the physical nature of the act and from his mastery over my body…
Siara ripped out the page and threw it into the fire, alarmed that she had forgotten her self-made rules regarding personal feelings and experiences. She had to be more careful. After perusing her writings to be sure there were no other instances of her personal experiences seeping in, Siara packed away her journals. They’d eaten what bread was left for breakfast. Though there was little hope, in Siara’s opinion, of catching anything, Anleeh had gone out to hunt. They needed food both for today and for the rest of their journey.
Though lacking in skills as a hunter, Siara knew enough to make a few simple oat cakes. Cupping a handful of the dry oat grain mixture, Siara dribbled water out of the bucket by the fire. Mixing the little cake in her palm Siara placed it on one of the hot stones of the hearth, quickly mixing another. As she was flipping the second cake over, Anleeh returned.
Though logic prevailed upon her to be calm, Siara could not help the small sound of fear that escaped her when his hulking figure, face shadowed by the deep hood of his cloak, stepped into the cabin, his booted feet vibrating the floor beneath her. She was naked, vulnerable, and he smelled of blood and sweat.
“Siara?” He threw back the hood, the stern lines of his face might have been brought on by concern for her, but his forbidding countenance, pale from the cold so that his eyes and brows stood out sharply, did nothing to calm the irrational beating of her heart.
He stepped forward and she scrambled back.
“Siara, what is wrong?”
“I’m—frightened.”
“Of me?”
“Yes.”
Anleeh strode quickly to the fire, slipping the three spitted foxes into their slits in the hearth, then turned and left.
Siara’s heartbeat dropped to a normal pace the moment he left.
What was wrong with her?
This was Anleeh, who had shown her great kindness, who had been gentle more often than fierce.
Cursing herself Siara scrambled into her leggings and tunic; knowing there was no way she would get the furs wrapped around her legs on her own, she settled for lacing her boots snuggly and pulling on her cloak. Dashing into the stable she checked to see if he was with the horses. He was not.
Giving her mare’s nose a quick stroke, Siara headed for the stable door. It was hard to push open, and would have been impossible if Anleeh hadn’t already cleared away some of the snow from outside the doors.
Slipping out once more, Siara saw him, standing in the snow, his back to her, a dozen paces further out than where he’d been that morning.
“Anleeh!” Her voice echoed eerily, bouncing off the snow. He half turned at her words. Calling his name out again, Siara carefully stepped out into the snow, easing her weight into each footfall before laboriously tugging the lagging foot free.
“Siara, go back, I will come in.”
“Please, I want to discuss what happened.”
“Very well, but let us do so in the cabin.” He was headed towards her, his pace much swifter than hers even though his heavier weight had him sinking lower with each step.
“I wanted to apolo…” Siara put her foot down, leaned into it, and just kept falling forward. As her legs sank into the drift she lost her balance and toppled face first into the snow. With a hard ‘umph’ she sank, the shock of the cold against her exposed flesh and the press of the snow stealing away her breath, so that for a heart stopping moment she could not breathe.
Anleeh’s arms slipped around her waist and pulled her out. Siara gasped for breath as he turn
ed her, holding her upright against his side.
“Alright?”
She nodded, mouth still open to drag in air.
“Shocked you, didn’t it?”
Siara nodded again.
“Come on, let’s get inside. Stay behind me, lean into my shoulder if you feel like you might fall, and walk in my tracks.”
They trudged back to the cabin, Siara’s fingers curled in the thick fur of Anleeh’s cloak. Once inside the dry safety of the stables Siara stood as Anleeh brushed the snow from her body, the way a mother might clean a dusty child before letting them into the house.
“That did not go according to plan,” she admitted ruefully.
“Turn. What was your plan?’
“I meant to apologize, not force you to rescue me.”
“I quite enjoy rescuing you, so please don’t apologize.”
“The apology was for the way I acted a moment ago.”
“There is no need. What I have done to you is monstrous. It is only natural that you fear me.”
“No.” Siara turned to face Anleeh. “You are not monstrous. You have been gentle and kind.”
“I have also hurt you.” Anleeh reached around and grabbed one of her abused ass cheeks, digging in his fingers until she squeaked. “Or have you forgotten?”
“I have not forgotten. Why are you now trying to frighten me?”
“Why are you not frightened? Do you know how easy it would be for me to kill you?” His hand slid up to her throat, his thumb and index finger slipping into the pressure point hollows behind her jaw and just beneath her ears.
Swallowing against the pressure of his fingers, she struggled to speak. “I am not frightened because I know that even if you hold no regard or caring for me, your orders were to protect me, and I have faith that you will obey the Queen.”
Anleeh’s hand dropped and he stepped away. “You know me well.” Anleeh turned and headed for the door to the cabin. He shed his cloak and boots just inside the door. Barefoot, he looked back at her, standing just inside the stable.
“You will strip out here. You are not allowed clothing inside the cabin from now on.”
Wondering if this were some sort of test, Siara stripped in the chill air of the stable, peeling snow dampened garments off her body. Not wanting to drop the damp things on the earthen floor, she draped them over one of the empty stall railings and darted back to the cabin, leaping inside and closing the door.
Anleeh was reclined by the fire, naked.
Siara bit down on her lower lip as she took in the back view. Each muscle in his back was well defined, the soft track of flesh over his spine trailing down to the lean swells of his ass. Unlike her own too plump behind, his ass was muscled, and when he bent one leg the muscles flexed enticingly. Siara was assaulted by a vision of Anleeh, hands on the wall; body bent double, legs spread, that hard tight ass reddening beneath her blows.
“Had your fill?” His tone indicated he knew full well where her eyes fell.
“Nay.”
“Well I have, come here. You wanted to talk about what happened this morning, so we will.”
Siara, not in the mood to talk any longer, seated herself beside his reclined body. She couldn’t help but notice that his shaft was soft. Clearly he was not as affected by her nakedness as she was by his.
Pulling her knees up to her chest, Siara wrapped her hands over her calves, and, though she wanted to tuck her head down against her knees, kept her back straight, pretending that she was not hiding from him.
“You were frightened.”
“I was,” she admitted.
“Why?”
“When you came in, you seemed … so big. With the cloak on and your face hidden you seemed a stranger to me. A … a…”
Siara trailed off, both at a loss for words and puzzled by the grin that spread across his face.
Anleeh grabbed her wrist and brought her palm to his mouth, kissing her.
“It is I who should apologize, love. There are things that must be explained to a woman when she loses her virginity, and in your case, I must speak both to Siara and to Siara’s beast.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I have always been the man you saw this morning. The power to harm you, to frighten you, has always been in me. In the Great City it was restrained by the laws and by my position; when we first started out it was restrained by my duty to protect you. But since I began training you, since my own beast has begun to fight free, it has been your beast that protected you.
“Last night when I took you, gave you pleasure, your beast fed from it, and now she lies quiet.
“When I walked in this morning and you saw me as a threat, smelled the blood on me from the kill, knew my strength to be greater than yours, you were frightened. Always before, even if you did not realize it, your beast rose up in you, giving you the strength to meet me as an equal.” Anleeh tugged her other hand away from her legs and pulled them out straight. His palm glided up and down her shin.
“But your beast was still sleeping, well fed at last, and she did not rise up.”
What he said made a strange kind of sense. Always before when he entered a room, some part of her went on the defensive and that reaction had been missing this morning.
“You mean that I have no protection, no … beast, if we’ve had sex?”
“No, your beast was just so well satisfied last night,” he grinned at her and kneaded her leg, “that she was very deeply asleep. We just need to wake her up.”
Anleeh rolled away from her and half rose, one knee down, the other foot flat on the floor, fingertips braced for balance. When he bent his head, swooping locks of dark hair slid down over one eye. Anleeh kept his eyes on the ground as he spoke.
“Feel the fire along your skin. I want you to touch yourself, run your hands over your breasts, the way you did in your virgin’s bed in the Temple.” Slipping under the spell of his words, Siara obeyed, hands tracing up her belly to cup her breasts, forefingers and thumbs pinching her nipples.
“That’s right, lover, show me how hard you like it, show me that you can take more, that I am too gentle with you.”
Again and again she pinched and rolled her nipples, her sex filling with moisture.
“Good. Can you feel your beast now?”
“Yes.” Within her something wild and fierce stretched, blinking sleepy gold eyes.
“Are you prepared?”
“Yes.” Siara did not know what she had agreed to, but she wanted it, be it pleasure or pain, she wanted it, wanted him.
Her eyes had drifted closed, but when the silence dragged she opened them. Anleeh’s head was still bent, his body poised, muscles bunched. Releasing her breasts, driven by instinct, Siara slid onto her knees, balanced on knees and bent toes, her hands on the fur in front of her.
Something shivered over Anleeh’s skin, like a shadow moving under the surface, and it was startling, and fascinating, enough that Siara almost slipped out of the sensual spell she was under, but then a low growl echoed in the cabin.
Slowly Anleeh’s head rose. His lips were parted to reveal clenched teeth, and through them his growl echoed, a thing of the wild coming from a man who represented the grace and refinements of the Temple.
Siara’s hair stood on end along her arms and neck. Eyes locked to his, Siara slowly started backing up. For each inch she moved back, he came forward, the growl growing in intensity.
You can take him, he is yours, he is yours as you are his, take him. Make him pleasure you, taste his flesh, do not retreat, you are his equal, he is your mate.
Her beast whispered to her, the seductive growl like fire bright honey in her veins. She stilled; she would retreat no further.
Anleeh came closer, his body still poised. In the flickering light of the fire his green eyes danced, and for a moment they changed, the pupils and irises growing, shifting, wild.
Testing him, Siara moved to the side. He tracked her with his eyes. Inside her belly, her beas
t rolled, demanding action, no longer content with the posturing of their foreplay. Gathering herself, Siara sprang at Anleeh, hands grabbing at his shoulders, her goal the dominant position.
Anleeh rolled beneath her, catching her waist and spinning her underneath his larger body. Siara dug her fingernails into him, drawing her knees up and pushing at him. Anleeh heaved her away and snarled when her nails drew scratches across his shoulders and back.
He yanked her hands from his shoulders, pinning them beside her head. Taking advantage of his shift in weight, Siara, with a fierce snarl, kicked him aside, yanking her arms free and leaping astride him, pushing down on his chest to hold him still.
Hair hanging tangled around her face, Siara grinned down at him in triumph and then bent, setting her teeth against his neck, biting down, demanding his acknowledgement of her superiority, under the threat of suffocation.
Anleeh’s thumbs slid into the hollows behind her jaw, pushing in painfully, forcing her mouth open. Keeping one hand tight around her throat, he flipped her under him, catching her legs, lacing them with his, leaning his greater weight into her even as she bucked. His mouth descended, his teeth setting on her throat as she had done to him.
Anleeh’s tongue moved along the captured flesh in his mouth, feeling the vibrations of her growl change to those of a purr. Inside her the beast pranced, the desire for the fight altered to desire of a different kind. Or maybe they were the same all along.
His mouth moved to hers, his tongue invading the hot wet cavern of her lips, his need to dominate, to prove himself her Master, only fueled by her beautiful, hard won submission.
Anleeh reached down, catching her left knee in his hand, bending her leg up, pressing it into her chest. His cock nestled against her sex, wet and ready for him. Pulling his mouth from hers, he set his teeth into her shoulder and bit her.
Siara screamed and he thrust into her, her beast lapping up the primal nature of the coupling, adding another complex layer to the pleasure. Her body was tight and she felt every inch of him, her soft inner flesh fluttering in reaction to his invasion. He’d gone still, his teeth no longer sunk into her shoulder, now merely holding her.
