Shared Between Them

by Korey Mae Johnson

  She pressed her forehead onto her tied wrists, looking like she was succumbing to forbear what was coming, surely thinking that he was just going to use his fingers, even when he came up behind her.

  He came up behind her and untied her bindings from the headboard. She struggled under him, but he kept her in place until her wrists were tied again and her shoulders were pushed down to the bed. “Keep that ass up,” he instructed.

  Grumbling under her breath, she raised her bottom up as he pushed himself back to his knees and straddled behind her. He held her shoulders down with one hand as he put his cock at her entrance with the other.

  “No!” she screamed as soon as his crown found her tiny, virgin hole. “You can’t! You can’t! Taric, please!”

  “Shh,” Taric cooed, pressing the head of his cock slightly in. “You’ll be okay. This will feel good, elfling, just relax.”

  “You’re torturing me!” she cried from the mattress. He noted to himself that she still hadn’t begged for him; she was a stubborn little thing.

  He pushed his cock farther in. She began to squeak with discomfort, and he slowed so that she could adjust to his girth. She didn’t appreciate him being in there at all, screaming, “Take it out! Take it out!”

  He had done this with many a more experienced woman and hadn’t gotten anywhere near this response… Though he had never been inside of a bottom this tight, either! It felt like a vise was around his cock. He groaned and pushed his hips further against her. “Good girl,” he cooed to her, all the anger from before washing away when he heard her voice break.

  “It hurts,” she whined miserably.

  “Give it a moment,” he told her patiently, wincing as the tightness didn’t seem to ebb. He rubbed his hand across her lower back. He finally inched his manhood all the way into her. He could feel his tight balls hit her moist heat.

  Finally, he began to shift in and out of her. Eventually, her muscles started to relax, and his shifting graduated to thrusting.

  “Oh!” she chirped, clenching the sheets. He could feel she was close and stopped exactly where he was. He rolled his eyes up towards the ceiling. Gods above, he wanted to continue. He needed his release, too.

  “Taric, don’t…”

  “Don’t stop?” he continued for her, a cocky smirk bringing up the corner of his mouth. He rubbed his hand across her back. “Is it feeling good, then?”

  She didn’t answer, just tried to thrust her hips back against him. He held her tight. “Tell me,” he demanded. “Tell me how much my little wife-slut loves the feeling of her husband’s cock up her little bottom. Say it.”

  She whined in response—a long, loud, “Nooo…”

  He gave her bottom a sound slap, and she made an angry huff. “Fine,” he told her, and when he felt it was safe to continue without coming, he continued to thrust on, taking his time each time he plunged his length into her. It felt amazing. He listened to her whine like a cat in heat, and her moans made him thrust harder until he felt he was at the verge of coming. He came out of her completely and threw his legs over the side of the bed, pinching the base of his cock to keep from coming. He was glistening with sweat, panting hard, and absolutely aching with pain.

  “Don’t! Don’t!” she hissed. “Don’t! Go, just go. Just come in me.”

  He got up from the bed and walked over to clean the oil off of his length, preparing himself to fill her womb and not her ass. He didn’t say anything the whole while.

  No longer tied to the headboard, she clumsily crawled around and towards him, watching him clean himself off, her eyes wide with incredulousness. “Taric?” her voice was fretting, as if him actually not allowing her to come was beyond cruel. “Please… Please… Help me.”

  He smiled at this. “I can help you, sweetie. What do you want?”

  She huffed, and then he could hear her sob. She was so angry, so frustrated, that she was crying. He stepped around next to her face and took her chin in his hand, turning her tear-stained face towards him. Her expression, even though it was exactly what he’d wanted, pained him when he saw it. She was flushed, angry, and just plain lost. She was completely out of control of her own body, with no idea what to do about it.

  “I need you,” she sniffled. “I need you in me. Please, take me. I beg you, please… I need you inside of me.” She sniffed again. “However you want, but just—just please don’t keep doing this to me. Sp-sp-spank me if you want. I’ll never say no again. I just—I just need… I just need you to spend inside of me. I need it, I just… I’m going insane. Punish me, just not like this!”

  “You want my seed?” he asked, wondering if his ears had ever heard of anything so erotic. “You want me to take this pussy of yours again?”

  “Please, please…” she panted, her whole body squirming. “I’ll be… I’ll be your slut. I’ll be whatever you want me to be. I’m sorry!”

  He kissed her cheek, and then climbed back up on the bed with her. He moved his body over her and kissed her mouth. She kissed him back, feeling desperate. “Shh,” he finally said, untying her bonds. “Shh, elfling. I’ll give you what you need. I just wanted you to know you needed it.” He pushed her thighs apart. “Daddy knows what his baby wants,” he added suavely, his tone deep. He plunged his cock into her. Her sheath was just as tight as it was the day before, only this time, she was thrusting up to meet his own. “We’re training you to be our queen and our slut,” he cooed in her ear as he thrust deeply into her. His movements were slow, his thrusts running deep so he could spill into her womb. “Gorgeous, beautiful Kyra. My elfling.”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist as if she was horrified that he might try to pull away from her again. She nipped at the side of his neck. “Give me a baby, Taric,” she begged. “Deeper. Go deeper. Harder.” He felt her nails scratch into his shoulders.

  He grabbed his hands around her ass and kneaded her flesh as he rammed himself into her. She had her eyes closed, happily accepting every delicious thrust that he offered. He thought he must have died and gone to heaven. Did she really tell him to make her pregnant?

  That was nearly enough to make him spill alone. He wanted to fulfill her, to bring them beyond the edge, though, but his control was wavering. “Come for me, slut. Milk my cock…” At his words, her shoulders thrust back, and he felt her clench her muscles over and over around him.

  She began to scream out; he knew it, but he couldn’t hear it. He was coming so hard inside of her that he could barely take control of any of his senses—he heard a buzzing in his ear as he pulsed pearl after pearl of seed into her hot sheath.

  “Taric…” her voice was suddenly in his ear. He gasped a breath, panting. He realized that he had fallen on her with his weight and forced himself off to her side.

  They were now both a sweaty, panting, tired mess—but at least they were satiated. “Don’t… Make me do that again…” he panted, putting a hand over his rapidly pulsing heart. After taking a deep breath, he pulled his wife against him, giving her a good swat on her bottom. “Just say yes, woman!”

  She mumbled something inaudibly, pressed her face against his chest, and then she began to purr.

  He chuckled and rolled her to her tummy before he pulled a pillow under her. She woke up just enough to say, “What are you doing?”

  “Propping your bottom up,” he replied simply, giving her bottom a loving pat. He didn’t want his seed dripping out of her, not until it had the chance to take root inside of her.

  He pushed himself up from the bed and barely found the strength to put his trousers back on before he made it to the dining table, where he quickly made himself a plate of food. Somehow, he felt like he was starving to death!

  He had never fucked that hard before, certainly never with that sort of aggression. She had cried, even, when he entered her bottom, and he hadn’t ceased. He had never dominated a woman like that, nor had ever even felt the inclination to.

  He looked back at Kyra, whose ba
re body was still covered with sweat; her arms were thrown up over her head. No wonder Draevan was acting so strange—it was all because of this woman. It was making Draevan into a boyish lover and making Taric into a rough dominator.

  Elves were magical creatures, indeed!

  Chapter Five

  Kyra curled her toes around the side of the bath, pressing her back against Taric. The warm water was soothing, smelt refreshing, and warmed her to her toes.

  “Still hate me?” Taric asked her as he ran a bar of soap across her breasts, making them foam. He’d been doing this for the last five minutes; she was beginning to ponder if massaging her breasts with purpose was the reason he wanted to bathe with her in the first place.

  She wasn’t sure. She wanted to hate him; she ached to. On the other hand, she realized that she didn’t want him to actually go anywhere. She wanted him again.

  Well, she wanted him one day, after she was through being so sore, which hadn’t happened yet. She’d woken from a reverie embarrassed at what she had begged for and aghast at how sore her bottom was now that there was no drunken lust left to ebb the pain.

  When she complained, however, he did look like he regretted her pain. He drew her a bath himself and poured her a very tall glass of wine. It was only until she had soaked for a while that he broke down and decided to actually join her in her bath, and then he seemed to enjoy it even more than she did.

  “I don’t like how long it’s taken you to respond,” he told her, grabbing the wine bottle off of the floor and pouring more wine into her glass. “Are you too angry to speak to me or are you undecided?”

  “Undecided,” she replied, tilting up her chin and then taking another drink of wine. She figured she was on half a bottle at this point.

  “Well, that’s better than angry,” Taric said optimistically. “If it makes you feel guilty and in a mood to forgive me further, may I add that I would never be angry with you.”

  “You have been angry with me!”

  “Well, I wouldn’t act on it,” he claimed. She knew by his tone that he was assuring her that he would never strike her. Apparently, her unfortunately handsome husband (for she was certain she wouldn’t have any trouble whatsoever hating him if he was ugly and smelled), had a short memory.

  “I still have welts that state otherwise, my dear husband,” she said, turning her head.

  “I didn’t give you those because I was angry. I gave you those because I don’t want you to try climbing out of windows again. In fact, you can accept the idea of running away as a bad one. And I don’t know why you only call me ‘husband’ with either snark or distain in your tone. I am, after all, your husband. I have tattoos to prove it.” He pulled up his arm in front of her and showed her the white, paisley design crawling up from his fingernails to his elbow.

  “I don’t know why you can’t understand that most marriages, though apparently not human marriages and especially not Northern human marriages, are consensual. Mine wasn’t,” she snipped in response. “There’s something called courtship here. I mean, I haven’t seen much of it, but I’ve seen enough. I’ve seen men give their lovers flowers or jewelry or… not strip off their clothing and spank them. That sort of thing.” She waved her fingers around dismissively.

  “I think flowers are very over-rated. They’re everywhere. You’d get ones you liked better if you plucked them yourself,” Taric complained, grumbling. When he grumbled, his voice went so low she could feel the vibrations in his chest rattle her spine in this position.

  “You’re very romantic.”

  “I am romantic, actually!” he defended. “Far more so than Draevan, at least. It was my idea to take your virginity on your wedding night.” He shrugged and admitted right after, “Of course, you were unconscious during your wedding night. But the next day…”

  She made a very skeptical harrumph sound.

  “Look, damn it, this bath scene is very romantic,” he decreed, pointing at the water like she should recognize it for what it was.

  “Well, from the uncomfortable pole poking into my back, I can assume that this could turn from romantic to you having your way with me at the drop of the hat,” she accused peevishly.

  He was silent for a moment, only to say, “I have to admit… I like how you referred to my manhood as a pole.”

  Just as she sighed sufferingly at him, their bodies both froze when they heard the door to their chambers open and close. She was close to going invisible again when she heard Draevan’s voice say, “According to the servants, you didn’t have any trouble having a good time while I was out.”

  She wanted to sink farther into the bathtub and drown herself. It might have worked had Taric decided not to play the role of her bathing cushion.

  “Did we scare them off?” Taric only said, his tone assuring that he was far from caring.

  “You must have. They left her clothing at the doorstep,” he turned the corner and looked at them. There was a spark of jealousy in his eyes for a moment, and she blushed, but Draevan didn’t say anything. He swept down to her face and gently pulled up her chin with his calloused fingers to kiss her on the mouth. When he straightened, he put a small box in her hand.

  “What’s this?” she asked, looking at the box and giving it a firm shake.

  “Luckily, not something made out of glass,” he replied with a chuckle. “Open it. It’s a gift.”

  She hadn’t gotten any gifts for quite a long time—possibly not since her twelfth birthday, and that was only because her brothers had made an extremely impressive robbery that day.

  She untied the silk string tying the little black box together and opened it.

  It was a necklace—one made of diamonds. Her heart had absolutely stopped beating, she just knew it. Certainly, she’d stopped breathing as she delicately picked it out of the box.

  “Oh, really!” Taric huffed in complaint, his voice sounding like he and Draevan were playing a game in which the rules had been most certainly broken.

  She rose out of the bath water and, ignoring her own nudity, wrapped her arms around Draevan. He didn’t seem to mind that she had made him wet, and he wrapped his brawny arms around her waist and lifted her out of the tub.

  “It’s beautiful,” she told him. Never had she owned anything so fine! She hadn’t ever even stolen such fineries!

  “Not anywhere nearly as beautiful as you are,” Draevan assured her, putting her on the ground and urging her to turn around with gentle pushes of his hand. “But I’m glad you like it.”

  Her hair was already pinned up away from her neck so it wouldn’t get wet in the bath, so there was nothing in the way of his lips kissing the nape of her neck as he took the necklace back and fastened it around her throat.

  He nipped at her ear, and then brought his hands down across her wet, naked breasts, grabbing them hungrily before turning and grabbing a towel. “And Taric was trying to tell me that he was the romantic one,” she tattled, smiling up at him as he wrapped the towel around her.

  She meant to tease, but Draevan’s eyes flashed dangerously in Taric’s direction upon the escape of her words. He took a step towards the bathtub, and Taric grabbed the edge as if preparing to pop out of the water and defend himself. Kyra grabbed Draevan’s elbow and tugged him in the other direction. “Come on,” she urged, leading him into the main chamber. “Show me where these supposed clothes are.”

  Draevan huffed angrily but allowed her to drag him away from Taric. He poured himself some mead before he sat down in a chair, looking set to watch her try on her clothing. Taric didn’t come out of the back room the entire while, and she was sure that was because he was avoiding Draevan.

  Draevan looked a little sullen as he sat there, watching her try on dresses like she would have never imagined ever wearing not a few days ago. She could feel his anger surging through him, and it didn’t make her feel much better that the anger wasn’t directed at her.

  He grunted in approval when she donned a white silk robe that highli
ghted the cleavage at her breasts, and she turned and grinned at him. He didn’t return her smile, looking deep in thought, and didn’t make any eye contact until she stepped up to him.

  She grabbed his mug of mead out of his hands and sat on his lap. He seemed surprised by this display of affection, and really—so was she. Although she wished it was intriguing to see her husbands compete for her favor, she could tell that all it was doing was depressing them—especially Draevan who had been working all day only to be told that while he was working, his cousin was working on her and then had attempted, however lightly and jestingly, to claim he was better than Draevan in any way.

  He wrapped his arms around her waist and accepted her kisses, still with a stunned look on his face. “You can be so sweet,” she told him, rubbing her nose against his affectionately.

  “It’s just a bauble,” he said, setting his hands on her hips and petting the soft fabric of her new dress.

  “I like it that my husband thought enough about me during the day to get me anything at all,” she told him, then chewed on her bottom lip slightly.

  “Thought about you enough?” he said with a wry laugh, tightening his grip on her hips. “Elfling, I can’t get you out of my mind!” He began to kiss her, and she could feel his hard rod even through the layers of clothing, but he didn’t try to undress her or anything else. It was as if he would have been happy to kiss her forever.

  When she pulled away from him, he frowned with disappointment, but then she slowly braved dropping to her knees before him and tugged at his belt.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, as if he couldn’t guess. He was suddenly sounding out of breath.

  “Appreciating the work you did for us today, husband,” she said, knowing that he would love hearing her call him that. Her fingers were clumsy on the leather of his belt. His fingers caught hers.