by Tara Gill
What was this sensation? It was wonderful. She wished to experience it again and again and again….
The ties around her legs vanished and rough hands massaged her where the ties had been. She sighed in pleasure. All worries and anxieties left her, and her words were slurred. “What just happened?!”
Both pair of eyes roved over her face, avidly drinking in her pleasure-drunk expression. His mouth wet with her juices, he wiped them away with a careless hand. “Why, you just experienced your woman’s pleasure fully for the first time. As your male, it is my duty to bring you to it as often as possible.”
Well, then if that was his duty, she had no problem with him giving it to her as frequently as was possible. Her chest rose up and down as she blinked up at him with satisfied, droopy eyes. His lion was licking his lips. She stretched her arms out to him, wanting to touch.
“Come here,” she said, huskily.
He leaned closer. She stroked over his chimera mane lazily. “Thank you for the pleasure you gave me. “
He purred. She continued rubbing him. When she closed her eyes, the mane felt more tangible than in her dreams. She could almost feel the soft luxurious pelt. When she scratched behind his ears, the lion started purring.
“Why, you’re just a pet cat aren’t you?” she crooned. Slowly he’d crept up until he lay over her and the lion’s face was to her nose. As she watched, he swiped his large tongue over her face.
She giggled then stopped, marvelling at the sound of her own laugh. She sounded young and carefree, things she couldn’t remember feeling in so long. The lion’s eyes were closed as she gently stroked him. She watched both the faces, as he leaned closer, and she tentatively brushed his lips with hers.
His eyes opened to gaze warmly at her.
“Is it all right to kiss now?” she asked hesitantly.
In reply he bent and kissed her, till her lips opened, and he dived inside. His tongue was forceful and explored every part of her mouth, playing with her tongue, encouraging it to duel with his. He tasted slightly musky and smelled of her own essence. He stroked her tongue with his and thrust inside her mouth, grinding his hips into her open mons.
Mia broke apart, gasping for air.
He knelt upright between her open thighs, and his robe vanished. His member was erect and pointed up, looking red, with drops of thick liquid seeping from the tip.
Her gaze stuck to one fat drop of pearly fluid at the top glinting at her.
He swiped it and held his finger out to her tongue.
“Open,” he said.
“But—”
He shook his head again at her and said again, “Open your mouth.”
When she did, he placed his finger in her mouth.
“Suck.”
After a pause, she closed her lips around his finger and glanced up at him. He waited for her, his eyebrows raised. She rubbed a tentative tongue along his finger. A salty, slightly bitter taste entered her mouth. Her inner muscles clenched. It did something to her to have his finger in her mouth, to taste his most intimate essence. Gently she sucked. With a low groan, he began to thrust his finger in and out of her mouth, watching as if hypnotised. He pulled away and drew the wet finger in a line down to the middle of her breasts, her navel which he circled before bringing it down inexorably to her open mons.
She bit her lip, hips arching in anticipation of what he would do next.
Running a hard finger over her nub, pressing it down to her pelvic bone , he quickly thrust his finger into her going all the way, as she jolted in response. The ohimbe powder had loosened her muscles so that while she was excruciatingly sensitive, she was also able to take him in without too much of a strain. Pulling out, he added another finger inside her. Taking in both fingers was a stretch and she whimpered. But he comforted her. “Shh. It will be fine. Trust me.”
Again, those same words. She tried to relax as he thrust in both fingers and began scissoring them apart. It caused some discomfort and she moved restlessly, her arousal rising again despite her recent release.
“It will grow tolerable, love and even pleasurable. This will make you ready for my cock. I’m big, and your pussy is tiny. The ohimbe helps but you need my fingers too. Work with me.” He prepared her until her hips were meeting his fingers as he pumped into her.
Pulling out, he circled her opening lightly with the tip of his finger. “I think you might be ready for me. What do you think?”
By this time, Mia was sweaty and semi-delirious. His fingers thrusting into her had sent her halfway back to the strange climb for pleasure she’d experienced earlier. He took his thick cock in hand and it seemed even larger than before. She stared at his cock and licked her lips, remembering his taste.
He groaned as if in extreme pain. “I need to be inside you. What do you say, love? Are you ready for your mate to take you?” he repeated.
Meeting his gaze which held challenge, a question and a knowing confidence, she felt in turns unsure and alive. He was asking her an important question. This consummation was part of the mating ceremony, and her assent mattered. Clearing her throat, she whispered, “I’m ready.”
“Good girl,” he crooned. “Now open that pretty little pussy and take me in.” Kneeling between her thighs and leaning over her, he wedged the head of his cock into her small opening, sawing in and out in incremental movements until her channel stretched slowly but steadily.
“Ooohhh.” Mia felt stretched like never before. She lifted one shaking fist to her mouth and bit it to mute her moans.
“Do not stop your sounds. I need to hear your cries. Be loud. There is no one here to listen. Everyone is out there celebrating the mating of their King.”
He wants me to be loud? She dropped her hand to her trembling chest. This whole experience was so unlike what she’d expect a marriage to be back home. There was no comparison. Maybe she should take everything as it came and not try to judge based on what she was used to, as Barghurr and Faheme had suggested. He thrust into her, thick and large pushing deep in one continued movement until she sobbed, unable to handle the intense sensations.
“You’re too deep inside me,” she moaned. She could feel him pressing against her very womb. It was so excruciatingly sensitive there, and even a little bit of pressure at that spot felt like it would blow off the top of her head.
“Shh. You will adjust to me. Your body was made for me. You can take me,” he soothed, stroking the sides of her body as he had done in her dreams. His claws were out, and they scratched her. She moved restlessly. Braced on his arms, he continued moving in and out of her never pulling out fully as sweat dripped down his torso. As his pace increased, she also got caught up in the rhythm, shifting against him. Her sighs became low moans as the friction built her up and she climbed that steady slope. Her hands dug into his back. “More, please. Faster.” She pushed her hips up, impaling herself on him and licked his neck.
His arms on either side of her face, hips still thrusting into her, Barghurr growled, “Look at me.”
With difficulty, she opened her eyes and stared blearily into feral eyes that glowed back at her. He steadily increased the speed of his thrusts until the bed shook and sweat dripped off him. When her eyes started to close with pleasure, he said gruffly, “Don’t close your eyes.” She strained to keep her gaze on him when he started slamming into her more forcefully.
She winced at the force, but couldn’t hold back a keening, aroused moan.
“You are still tight.” He drew out of her, spread the ohimbe powder all around his wet member and entered her again. After a few moments, she was able to take him more easily, and he started pounding her. With every thrust, she sank deeper into the bed and her breasts bounced. He threw both her thighs over his shoulder so that she was helpless to control the depth of his penetration inside her. He was totally in control, and she could only respond. As his speed and force increased, he changed his angle to hit another especially sensitive spot deep within her and she cried out in stricke
n shock. That spot unlocked a special key inside her, and she climbed the path to orgasm again, at a dizzying speed.
“Come for me, Mia mine!” Barghurr bent, nuzzling the place where her neck met her shoulder and with a loud growl of the lion, he sank sharp teeth into her.
She screamed again. Instead of pain, the bite sent a bolt of pleasure straight to her mons and she started convulsing in intense shudders that shook the bed. She writhed and thrashed, her eyes rolling up, losing all awareness of where she was. She cried out with increasing intensity, till she was red in the face. When it was over, she just lay there limp and panting and speechless, only to realise that Barghurr still pumped into her spasming channel. She gave a weak moan and with a shout he came to his pleasure too, his hot seed spilling into her as he shuddered above her.
“You’re now mine for always, Mia.” Panting, he pressed a hard kiss against the bite and collapsed on her, small tremors shaking his body.
She pushed on his chest, unable to breathe. “You’re heavy,’ she gasped.
He rolled to the side and started to lick the bite-area, with little kisses in between. There must have been blood—the bite had been deep enough—but Mia couldn’t see any. Surprisingly there was no pain. But it felt so strange—something from below her chest seemed to lead out to Barghurr and she…could sense his emotions?
Right now, he was satiated, proud and ever so pleased with himself.
He smirked at her. “I am pleased. I have my beautiful mate beneath me, and I’ll have her shortly again.” His voice was a growl.
“Again?” she squeaked.
The purring started again. “Many many times again.”
“I’ll need to freshen up.” Mia was suddenly conscious of all kinds of fluid seeping out from between her legs.
“Come here.” He lifted her sweaty body and carried her to a large tub that she hadn’t noticed before. Water steamed from it, smelling of citrus. Stepping in, he sat, adjusting her so that she could lie on top of him. For a while they sat there silently, his strong fingers stroking her tangled hair until she was almost purring too.
As she gave a tired, happy sigh, he said in a pleased murmur. “My mate likes her hair stroked, just like me. Be careful, Mia mine, or I’ll learn all your secrets and you’ll be putty in my hands.”
Well, if he handles me like that, I wouldn’t mind. I never realised that someone touching me with such simple care would feel so good.
“Barghurr—’ she began and stopped when a particularly pleased purr vibrated through him. “What is it?”
“I like my mate calling me by name.” He bit her earlobe and her inner muscles clenched. They were still spasming irregularly. It felt like her body had been through a quake and was still feeling the aftershocks.
“It is very improper you know,” she chided softly. “Back in polite Society, husbands and wives refer to each other formally.”
He shrugged. “You are in a different culture now. Hopefully, one that concentrates on the important things, and one that you’ll be happier in. Will you give Lionhaeme a chance?”
She nodded. What choice do I have?
“You’ll find that you do have a choice. Women are stronger here and stand up for themselves. Lionesses’ very nature demands it.”
“Did you just read my thoughts?” She raised her eyebrows in surprise.
“We mated—I bit you and marked you. We have mate bonded. Our bond is not telepathic, though with time that might happen, but it is certainly empathetic. I can sense your feelings, and you can sense mine.”
How unusual. And all this happens with a bite? No wonder the women of the Harem did not share this part of the permanent mating. It might have made me more nervous. She inhaled. She could no longer deny the magic she sensed all around her. “What else does mating involve?”
“Mates crave each other’s touch and need to be in proximity. They also balance each other out in cases of extremes of emotion. Mated lions are more emotionally stable, and not prone to going Rogue. And if mates separate for more than a day, their life force diminishes.”
“What happens if someone leaves their mate?” She shifted her hips, feeling his hard shaft under her bottom.
His hands tightened around her waist, and he adjusted her position so that his shaft was between her buttocks. “That has never happened. But if a lion is lost, taken away or unable to come to their mate for a long time, they can both die. Our healers place such mates into a voluntary stasis, so that this can be prevented.”
“Hmm.” Mia pondered. Faheme was right, this mating business was more serious than marriage. Many Society marriages, even royal marriages were only for show with the spouses seeing each other a few times a year and having other partners to serve their needs.
Still, she was wary. It had seemed an academic idea but now that it was done, she had to wonder: Is it a good idea for me to be bound to Barghurr even in death?
She inhaled.
She did not know the answer right now. But being with him, receiving his attention, enjoying his touch was like drinking water after a lifetime of being parched. If nothing else, Mia was extremely grateful to him and felt the beginnings of affection and loyalty stir inside her for this amazing man, who was also the King of Lionhaeme.
But another question interrupted her ponderings. Clearing her throat, she asked, “Erm, does the bite mean I’ll become a lion too?”
He chuckled, “Do you want a lion aspect?”
Do I?
All this was so strange. This was a conversation she never imagined she would have in her life. “Erm, I’m not sure? I’ll have to be introduced to your lion before I decide, I suppose.”
He laughed, sounding pleased, “Ah, not taking impulsive decisions. I like that. My lion wants to greet you too.” He rubbed his chin against her mark, which was now fully healed. She could now sense that he had rubbed his pheromones on her.
“Did you just mark me?”
He chuckled. “I marked all of you. Every part of you now smells of me and everyone who meets you will know it.”
Everyone would know it? She recalled that all the residents here were lions and would probably have animal senses. They could probably sense all kinds of things about her. She sighed, resigning herself to this embarrassing lack of privacy.
“The lionesses mentioned Rogues. Who are they?” she questioned, hoping to get some answers.
He moved her, so that her mons sawed on his rigid shaft, lubricated by her juices. “The last thing I want to discuss on my mating day is the Rogues.” He stroked her spread lips down and up the length of his cock, increasing the force on her waist, pressing her down on him.
“You know how I said I wanted to do it again?” he growled huskily.
“Now? Here in the water?” She exclaimed in disbelief.
“Yes, here and now. Just like this.” His voice grew guttural and stern. Lifting her up, he drove himself into her fully so that she was seated on his lap, back to his chest and impaled on his cock which throbbed inside her.
He rubbed the front of her belly and pressed. “I can feel me inside you. Tighten your channel on me,” he said hoarsely.
Slowly she tightened her muscles on him. He was too large around, she could not clench much, but he seemed to feel the sensation. His hands tightened around her waist and she could feel the prick of claws. “Again. Keep doing it.” He gritted out.
She did it again, with more force. He groaned. His damp forehead came down to lean on her shoulder. Soon he was continuously growling. Instead of scaring her, it made her feel in control and deliciously wicked. With a secret grin, feeling free and powerful, she swivelled her hips and clamped her muscles especially hard.
He growled and bit her shoulder. “You are becoming naughty now.” He brought one finger to her front. She held her breath to see what he’d do. He circled her opening stretched wide around his cock. Then he brought his finger up to the nub which now protruded up from between her lips. With delicate touches, he explored
it and then tapped on it. With each tap, his force increased minutely, and she gasped and shuddered all over.
She forgot to clench, and a light slap on her thigh brought her back. A pull of her hair turned her face to meet his. “What did I say? Do not stop the clenching until I tell you to.” Feral eyes met her gaze, and he growled at her.
Staring at him, she nodded and tightened around him again. His nostrils flared. She repeated it, trying to vary the intensity and keep him on his toes.
“Good girl.” He crooned into her ear and bent down to lick at the mark. He started to thrust within her, little thrusts that pushed against that secret place within her, his circles around her nub became tighter and tighter until with a yell he came in her. She climaxed at the same time when his blunt claw pressed into her nub. As she leaned against his chest, eyes closed, trying to catch her breath, a flood of their juices slowly leaked out of her.
Barghurr quickly washed her and stood. Taking a dry soft cloth that felt like a cloud, he wiped her dry and rubbed himself off too. He sat in the chair. When she curled up like a kitten in his lap, he fed her nuts, fruits and pieces of spiced meat. When she had her fill, he ate. With a small yawn she snuggled into his shoulder and was soon fast asleep.
Barghurr carried a sleeping Mia to the bed and held her in his arms, purring as she rehashed the events of the day in her dreams.
Chapter 8
When Mia woke later in the night, Barghurr was a sleek heater curved around her. It was an unsettling moment finding herself in a new world, naked in bed with a strange man.
Not a strange man. He is my husband…my mate. A good man. It could have been so much worse.
Needing to attend to an intimate need, she nudged Barghurr. As he blinked awake, a very growl-like sound escaped him. The chimera-lion’s mane was mussed, and it looked adorably sleepy.
“What is it, love?” he asked roughly, sitting up and glancing around with unnervingly alert eyes that shimmered gold for a second.
She stared at him wondering if her eyesight was misbehaving. “Oh, um, I need to use the chamber pot,” she admitted in a low voice. At home, spouses possessed separate chambers which allowed for privacy in such instances. In this world, apparently, they slept together, so she wasn’t sure what this first hygiene challenge of mating would involve.
