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Captive of Love
Chapter One
His head rolled against his shoulders, a loud moan coming from his lips as consciousness beckoned him with bright lights and noises he wasn't sure he wanted to know the meaning of. Opening his eyes, Ryder squinted, lifting his head to take his bearings.
His body hurt all over, a fact that he ignored for the moment as he took stock of his situation. And it wasn't a good situation. He was naked, a breeze blowing across his chest and loins that had a decided chill discerning that fact quicker than his eyes did. His arms were stretched above his head, held securely so that his body was almost hanging by his wrists. His feet touched the ground, but barely, leaving him stretched in one long line.
Glancing around, he stared through the thick locks of dark hair that tangled and fell in his face, seeing the rest of the men from the hunting party he'd been head of in similar or worse predicaments than he was in. Across from him, his older brother, Trace, strung up in the same manner that he was, hung, his chest crisscrossed with wide welts that bespoke of a beating from a belt.
"Trace?" he whispered huskily, his throat raw from thirst and disuse.
There was no movement, but Ryder took comfort in the rise and fall of his brother's chest as he breathed.
"He's awake," said a decidedly feminine voice.
"Katrina will be pleased. She's been anxious over this one though I told her his wounds were superficial. She's worried about him waking from the drug."
Ryder turned, his eyes seeking the owners of the voices. Standing near the door, he found them and stared with shock. Two women, dressed as warriors would with chain mail specially fitted to their trim and supple forms, stood, staring back at him with eyes of gold that seemed to almost gleam in the light. Helmets rested upon dark heads, their hands rested upon swords, sheathed for the moment.
"He finds us amazing, sister," one said, doffing her helmet and exposing intricately braided hair that hugged her head.
"As do most men, sister," the other woman said, laughing and stroking a hand down the fitted mail of her armor.
"Too true. I should let Katrina know her new slave has awakened and is ready to begin his training. She'll wish to be present for the initiation." She started to push from the wall she leaned against when her sister stopped her.
"Katrina plans on doing this training all herself. She's taken a special interest in this one. I think she means to keep him to herself."
Ryder had heard enough. His head hurt and for the life of him, he couldn't think of how they had gotten here. The last thing he remembered was leaving the hall, passing through the massive gates of his father's kingdom with his favored hawk, Hunter, on his arm.
"Release me!" he commanded in his most royal tone. For he was royalty, his mother, Raven was a healer of her people, a Chee of the West, and royalty in that aspect, his father was Lord Damien, Lord of Daring Castle and the surrounding areas. He was used to giving orders and being obeyed without question. He would take control now.
"Ah," the woman sat her helm down and strode forward, coming to stand before Ryder with a smile upon her face. "The mighty one speaks."
Ryder heard the laughter in her voice and felt outraged. No one but family was allowed to laugh at a son of the Lord. "Let me loose and you'll see just how mighty I am. Now release me and I might allow you to live when my father decides to take this place apart stone by stone."
"Your father has no idea where you are or how to find you, Ryder of Daring Castle." The other woman stepped forward, her voice less amused and more formal. "Nor will he know how to find you until Princess Katrina is ready for him to."
"How do you know who I am? Where in the hell am I?" He twisted against the heavy leather thongs that bound his wrists to the post above his head.
"I have known who you were for months, Ryder," another feminine voice said, and Ryder turned his head to watch the new woman walk towards him. She was dressed differently than the other two in a gown of pale gold. Her body was curved and lush with breasts that strained against the fabric that held them bound. Her hair was loose, fiery red with deeper highlights that drew his eyes like an insect to flame.
"Who are you?" he asked, more curious than anything else.
"She is your mistress, man," the woman spat the word as if it were the worst of curses. "Show some respect!"
Ryder jerked against his bindings as a belt slashed across his chest, leaving a bright red welt on his tanned skin. He glared at the woman holding the wide leather belt in her hands, not noting how the woman in the golden gown glared also, jerking when he did as if she felt his pain.
"Hold!" she said. "He is mine to punish, you are not to touch him unless I order it so, Dahlia. Is that understood?"
The woman nodded, bowing before her. "Yes, Princess," she said.
"Good. Now release his bonds and take him to my chamber. I wish to get to know this pet of mine a bit better." Her green eyes, large and cat shaped, gazed at him, taking in every bit of his muscled form. He was magnificent, from the tips of his mussed dark hair that showed tiny hints of red as the sun hit it to the tips of his elegant feet.
Katrina reached up, tracing a thin white scar that bisected his abdomen. It wasn't an old wound but it had healed nicely, the scar adding a touch of ruggedness to his masculine beauty. His eyes were amazing against his tawny tanned skin, a blue the color of the sea where it meets pale sand, with just a hint of green turning them turquoise, a color not found amongst her people. They flashed in anger now as she ran her hands with a familiarity she scare felt across his body.
"You shall get used to my hands, pet. You shall even come to beg for my touch before we are through," she said with a false bravado that had him narrowing his gaze at her. As if to prove her words, she let her palm lie flat against his hard lower stomach, stroking the line of hair that ran from his navel down to where it widened at his groin, brushing over the soft flesh of his cock.
It stirred against his will, twitching as if coming awake and Ryder jerked, trying to dislodge her hand from his body.
"I am no woman's pet," he hissed, anger and a surge of hatred that this woman could make him feel desire while tied naked to a post in the most humiliating of ways.
"You doubt me now, Ryder of Daring Castle. But once you are trained, you shall become Ryder, favored pet of Princess Katrina, a high rank that many men would give one of these for." She reached out and cupped his balls, squeezing gently even as he tried once more to jerk away from her hand.
"Never, woman, I will become no woman's slave." Ryder stopped moving as he felt her long, sharp nails against the sensitive skin of his scrotum. Even the threat of those nails couldn't stop the heated look of anger that he gave her, all thoughts of her beauty obliterated by her overbearing and high handed manner.
Katrina laughed, though inside she felt a twinge of worry. He was big, bigger than the men of her country. It would take every power and trick she knew to even begin to over power the will she saw shining in his eyes. It was that will that had first attracted her to him, watching him in her mother's Mirror of Seeing. He'd been another handsome man amid many handsome men in the courtyard outside the huge castle that was his home. Until she'd looked closer at those beautiful eyes, watching him fighting one after another of the men, disarming them until all that had been left was the one tied across from him.
He was bigger, stronger. He held his sword with a confidence that had seemed almost cocky. Ryder had smiled, despite the sweat that streaked his face and dripped to sting in his eyes. And Ryder had fought him, refusing to back down despite his fatigue until finally his brother's sword had knocked his away and he'd been forced to give in.
He'd intrigued her that day and in the days to follow as she watched him with his family, learning more and more about him. He'd become almost an obsession, albeit a secret one for her family wouldn't have understood. She slowly released him, staring into his eyes with a small smile on her face.
"We shall see who shall win, Ryder." She turned away, feeling the tingle of his gaze against her back. "Take him carefully, for if he gets away, your men will take his place," she warned the two women, her voice almost purring. "Not in my bed, Dahlia. Your beloved Jarvis will find his way into the games if I find any damage upon his person. Have him there when I return."
Katrina turned and strode from the room, knowing that they, too, stared at her with dislike. She had enough of her mother in her to hold her shoulders back and her head proudly, allowing none of the fear and uncertainty she felt in this position she held to show.
She passed through the wide expanse of hallways, the breezes cool as they rushed through the wide open windows that surrounded the rooms she walked by. It was growing warmer but hadn't yet reached the debilitating heat of mid afternoon. That was the time when all that could, took shelter from the heat of the sun that burnt with devastating effect upon the unwary. She wanted her duties done, her inspection of castle guard over and any lingering meetings done well before that time. She wanted time with her new pet. Her fist pet, and one that had her younger sisters drooling.
Just weeks before, her older sister had ruled the kingdom, leaving Katrina with no more responsibility but to decide upon what she would wear and what distraction would occupy her day. Then Kalina had fallen ill, a strange malady which had come upon her suddenly and with no discernable cure. She'd lain in her bed for days, tossing and turning feverishly while the castle healers had done everything they could to make her better.
Her body had withered as she had been unable to eat, her mind had shattered under the heat of the fever that had taken her. Ice and snow had been carted from the nearby mountains to try and cool the raging heat inside of her. Tinctures and potions had been brewed and given, teas and broths fed ruthlessly to the weakly struggling woman. But all had been for naught. Kalina had died and left Katrina in control of a people who believed in power and strength in their women and submissive obedience in their men.
"I hope you're enjoying this," she whispered. "And I hope in whatever hell you've found yourself, Kalina, you're buried to your neck in nectar and have to Rangorian kittens licking at your feet for eternity for leaving me here as Princess."
"Princess Katrina?"
Katrina glanced down and noted the man who took brave glances at her out of the corner of his eye. He was in the proper position of respect that all men were trained at an early age to take, on his knees, his body curved in a pleasing arch, his face against the floor, hands held straight out in front of him. It was a position men took when confronted by the Princess or by their owner. If confronted by someone who was not either of those, the man was allowed to stay on his feet but must bow his head and never look at the woman directly.
Katrina hated it. She hated having these men throw themselves to the hard floor, hated watching them prostrate themselves at her feet. She sighed. It had been this way from the time of her mother's mother's mother's reign and would be that way after she'd died and left this plane of existence.
"Princess?" the man spoke again. His voice was low and a tremor of fear had entered it. Princess Kalina had been demanding and ruthless, hateful to some of the men, using them for her own perverted pleasures despite their belonging to others. She'd liked the belt, using it to degrade and for her own depraved pleasures, not to discipline. Katrina hadn't been princess long enough for anyone to know what to expect of her.
"Yes," she said finally, waving a hand for him to rise.
He stood, the plain tunic of gold and silver stripes, devoid of any sign of a brand denoted his rank as castle slave and therefore belonging to the Princess. He was taller than she by a good head, his shoulders wide and strong. Dark blonde hair touched the neck of his tunic, hiding the thin leather collar that he wore. He kept his dark gold eyes averted, his head bowed. "May I do something for you, Princess?"
"No," Katrina said, distractedly, waving her hand at the man. He turned and was heading down the hallway the way she had come when she suddenly stopped him.
"Wait," she said, her eyes narrowing as he turned immediately, bowing again.
"Yes, Princess?" he said quietly.
"What is your name?"
"My name, Princess?" he asked, confusion in the swift glance he sent her way.
"Yes, you have one, do you not?"
"Yes, Princess. It is Lynar."
"Lynar? I've seen you here before, have I not?"
"Yes, Princess, I have served since your mother's reign. She took me herself from my home when I was but a boy." He glanced up at her again, his eyes flitting from her face to the floor. "May I ask why you wish to know, Princess?"
"Do you like serving in the castle, Lynar?" she asked, ignoring his question as was her right.
"W... What, Princess?" His voice trembled in fear, for these questions were strange and not what he would expect.
Katrina sighed, hearing his fear and hating it as much as she hated the new role she was expected to play. She reached out, touching Lynar's chest with a gentle hand, trying to reassure him and herself at the same time with simple human contact.
"It is of no matter, Lynar. I expect I already know the answer to the question. Go ahead, be on your way." She dropped her hand as she felt the tiny tremor that shook his sturdy form.
"Thank you, Princess." He bowed his respect of her and turned once more, now hurrying as if expecting her to stop him again and ask questions that he did not understand.
Katrina shook her dismal thoughts away, determined to do the best she could at what she'd been given. She hurried to her duties, finding her retinue of advisors waiting for her in the huge throne room. Ten women, the youngest of whom was just beginning to turn gray haired, these women were considered the most intelligent and respected of all that lived in her lands. They were her advisors, her mentors. Katrina consulted them in all matters that dealt with the welfare of her people.
"Princess, we've been concerned as to your whereabouts. Is all well?"
"All is fine." Katrina walked to her chair at the head of the huge table, seating herself with a grace befitting her position. She stared at her advisors as they stood, nodding towards their seats with a slight tip of her head. "Shall we begin? Or would you wish to gossip amongst yourselves like old men for a while longer?"
They gathered around the long table and it began.
By the time she'd reached her chambers, much time had passed. The heat of the afternoon was beginning to beat down upon the white stones of the castle, creating a haze that gave the scenery a dreamy bent. Her head pounded with a combination of the heat and hunger for she'd been given no time to eat. Her approval was necessary upon many matters that dealt with the castle and her lands, matters that she'd had little understanding of a few weeks ago but was hurriedly finding herself becoming a master of. And all these matters had to be addressed before the heat of afternoon put a halt to work as the castle closed in upon itself, darkening rooms and closing out the burning rays of the sun.
It was one of the worst punishments given to be tied to a post in the center of the courtyard during the afternoon's sun. It was a punishment given to only those slaves too stubborn to bend their will or too insolent in manner to be forgiven any other way.
She could only hope that her servants had left a meal waiting for her in her chambers. She sighed tiredly, the heat making her indolent and leaving a sheen of moisture to glisten upon her skin, slicking the golden gown that had felt so wonderfully light this morning until the fabric felt heavy and wet, sticking to her. As she approached her chambers, two skimpily dressed men bowed low before her, rising to open her door. She shooed them away, sending them to rest while she closed the doors herself.
She hadn't taken her sister's chamber upon her death as was her right to do as the new Princess. Instead, she'd taken these rooms, further from the throne room than her sister's but they granted her much privacy and were shaded by the huge trees that surrounded her courtyard. They were opulent, as were most of the rooms of the castle, largely made from the white stone so prized for its coolness.
Windows, their drapes now pulled to block the sun, made up most of the walls, opening into her private courtyard. Silky fabrics lined the walls, covered the low couches and the pillows that were thrown upon the floor for seating. Across the way, a small table had been brought in, filled with tempting treats, made specifically by her personal cook. The scents that wafted her way were tantalizing, causing her stomach to lurch and grumble with hunger.
A heavy wardrobe took up most of one wall beside a door that led into a dressing chamber where her shoes and armor were kept. And tied to a wall, close to the table where her food was laid, was Ryder.
His arms were spread wide, wrists bound tightly so that he was unable to move. Ryder watched her as she walked into the room, noting with pleasure the strained look upon her face. If he had to be miserable, he wanted the cause of his misery to feel the same pain he did.
"Will you release me and my men so that we may return home?" he asked, not waiting to be spoken to. He ignored the instructions that he'd been given by the women who'd brought him here. Don't speak unless spoken to, keep your eyes lowered and your attitude subservient to the Princess were only a few of the things he'd been told, all of which he planned to ignore.
"Do you find this routine worthwhile, pet? For you must know, my answer is the same now as it was this morning and will be the same until you tire of that ridiculous question. Your brother and the rest of the captives have already been sold to new mistresses, they will receive their training and grow to enjoy their lives here just as you will." She walked towards him, reaching under the heavy locks of her hair for the ties that held her gown closed.
With a tug, she pulled them free, the loose material sliding from her body, leaving her bare to his eyes. Ryder tried to be unaffected by the beauty she displayed, tried to ignore the way her breasts bounced softly as she continued toward him, or the lovely curve of her waist that broadened into lush hips. A fiery triangle of hair covered the soft mound of her sex, drawing his eyes to that sleek prize.
"I knew you would find me attractive, Ryder," Katrina said, running her hands down her sides and over her hips. "I've seen the women that draw your eye, especially that blonde wretch, Praia
"How do you know of her, or of any of us? How have you spied upon my family, wench?" He struggled against his bonds and against himself as he felt that tingle of awareness deep inside of him.
"Perhaps one day I will show you, pet. If you behave yourself and earn the treat, I shall let you watch your family yourself and see how they fare. I can tell you that your father has sent out parties searching for you and your brother. Your mother worries and has asked for help from her people and the seers of the clans of the North. I'm very intrigued by the magical qualities they possess, and the ones that you do also."
"My father shall find us, and when he does, he will bring down your kingdom around your pretty ears. And then you shall find yourself tied to this wall under my command," he hissed before clamping his mouth shut. He turned his head from her, refusing to look at her even when she chuckled.
"You are lucky I am tired and hot, pet. I'd hate to have to take you to task for your rudeness to me." She moved toward a spot in the corner of the room where a crudely rigged spout sprouted from the wall. Pulling on a cord, she stood under the spout and let the fountain of fresh water stream over her sticky body. It was cooling and refreshed her flagging spirits more than anything else possibly could have in that moment.
Ryder couldn't help but glance at the rudely built waterfall built in the wall, hearing her sighs and murmurs of pleasure as she doused her head under the water. Letting loose the cord shut the water off and she reached out for a crystal bottle, pouring a goodly amount of the liquid into the palm of her hand before using it on her body and hair. He watched as she rinsed, her hand running over her wet skin, drawing his eyes to her lush form.
She stepped from the corner, slicking her hands through her hair and squeezing the water from the length of it. Grabbing a thick towel off a pile set on a small bench, she bent her head and wrapped her hair into the material, letting the water on her body dry in the heat of the air. Walking with a nonchalance she didn't feel in front of him, she went to her wardrobe and pulled a thin short shift in fabric too flimsy to conceal her curves from his eyes.
"Maybe tomorrow you can join me in the water. It feels wonderful when the air gets hot and heavy in the afternoon." She slid into the shift before pulling the towel off of her hair and taking a comb off of her dresser, walking over to stand in front of him.
The white fabric had soaked up the moisture on her skin, turning the material transparent. It clung to her curves, sticking to the heavy globes of her breasts, emphasizing the soft bumps of her nipples. He could plainly see the fiery triangle of soft hair that covered her sex through the thin shift. With a mental groan at the picture of decadence that she had created so easily, he turned his head away, staring at the heavy draperies that covered the window on the other side of the room.
Katrina chuckled softly, knowing that he was attracted to her, knowing that he fought that attraction. The women of her people were experts on breaking men to their will, the secrets used were passed through the generations. Her mother had taught her what she needed to know at a young age.
And Katrina knew she could turn Ryder, that she could make him want her and bend to her will. It would take time and patience but she could do it. She sighed, sinking down on one of the soft pillows scattered on the floor. Her only problem, she didn't want him to be like the rest of them, the men in her kingdom. She didn't want blind obedience or to watch him throw himself down upon the floor in front of her, anxious to please her every whim.
She'd liked what she'd saw upon his planet, the strength of the men and their caring way with their ladies. She'd watched Ryder's parents, anxious to see how they behaved together. Lord Damien had been loving and playful, aggressively amorous with the beautiful healer. Even after giving birth to two boys and one girl, Raven was still slender of build with a strength about her that had amazed Katrina.
Raven ran her home with a grace and caring that rivaled even the most powerful of Princesses. She bent her husband to her will, though at times she had to yell and put herself in his way to be heard. Her sons showered her with love, showing her deference. Katrina had laughed until she'd cried watching Raven chastise Ryder while Trace made fun of him behind Raven's back until the grand lady turned quickly and grabbed the much taller man by the ear, twisting until he fell to his knees in front of her, apologizing.
That is what she wanted, not a lifetime of bowing and scraping. She didn't want her man to agree with her every word. She wanted fights and yelling. She wanted fire and passion and making up. She wanted a man who could stand with her, fight with her, be a partner not a pet. If Kalina had not died, then she would have been free to have gone to Ryder as she had once planned. But Kalina had died, and she was Princess now.
Katrina shifted upon the pillow, her soft mouth turned down into a scowl. She had no choice. It was her duty to her people and to the generations who had come before her to do as she'd been instructed. She would serve her people, train Ryder as a pet who would bow to her will and be obedient to all her commands. She would... die of boredom before she reached her next birthday.
A heavy sigh caught Ryder's attention and he turned his head, staring at the picture of dejection his beautiful captor portrayed. Her lush mouth was turned into a pout, her eyes downcast and sad. Her hair laid heavily on her shoulders, dripping down her back, the comb in her hand forgotten. She was lost in thoughts that weren't happy ones, Ryder thought, hating the twinge of sympathy he felt for her. He couldn't allow her to make him feel anything for her. Anything but hatred and disgust for the lifestyle he'd seen as he'd been forced to come here, a noose placed around his neck and held tightly by a long pole held in the hand of one of the strongest women he'd ever seen.
Men were dressed in fussy tunics, some embroidered with forms of animals or birds on the fronts. They bowed before the women who'd moved him, some throwing themselves to their knees on the hard stone floors and prostrating themselves. Not a single man wore a weapon, not even a knife, upon his person.
If this is what life would hold for him here, he didn't want it.
"Have you been fed, pet?" Katrina had moved while his mind was wandering and now stood before him, a tidbit of meat held between two of her long slender fingers. She was offering it to him, holding it just beyond the reach of his mouth. "I know I hunger and you have been unconscious for three days. You must be famished."
His stomach rumbled in answer, making her smile. The smile faded when he turned his head, staring defiantly off into space, ignoring her and the food. She sighed, lifting the morsel to her own lips and chewing it slowly. "Being obstinate is only going to cause you pain, Ryder. It will not further your cause for you to become weak through your own stubbornness. Will you not eat willingly to give yourself the strength to fight me on more important battles?"
Her logic irritated him. It annoyed him mostly because she was right. It served him no purpose to let himself grow weak from lack of food, for what if he were too weak to fight or to run if he were given the chance to escape? What purpose would his stubbornness do him then?
But still, the contrary nature of his being wanted to fight her on this. He settled the matter by glaring at her with hatred while he bent his head, his lips brushing the softness of her long fingers as she fed him a tender bit of meat. He chewed slowly, feeling the rush of saliva that came to his mouth from the superb taste of the food. Closing his eyes, he savored the taste, obediently opening his mouth when she pressed another bit to his lips.
Katrina felt a surge of heat in her loins. The look on his face was one of sublime rapture. He took the act of a simple feeding and made it into a sensual foray of the senses with the touch of his tongue against her finger, lapping quickly at the sauces left upon them. The way his mouth suckled hungry upon her skin as she fed him each small piece was exquisite torture, causing her to imagine how it would feel elsewhere upon her body.
His lips were soft as he took the food, his teeth sharp as he nipped her fingers. He stared down at her with eyes that seemed to flame, making her breath catch in her throat. Sensuous heat traversed the length of her arm and arrowed into her groin and belly, causing a maelstrom of feelings too intense and confusing to her innocence. Her lips parted softly, her tongue coming out to moisten their dryness.
Ryder watched the confusion upon her face, saw the way her breasts moved as she panted for breath. He felt a surge of pleasured power course through him, knowing that though she thought she was the master, even tied he was in control at this moment. He licked his own lips, tasting the succulent sauce that had been ladled upon the meat and just a hint of her taste, the sweetness of her skin, its clean flavor a pleasure to his palate.
Katrina watched his lips, saw them curve in triumph and felt a flare of anger that she couldn't control. He thought he was winning, thought he could control her with just his mouth. No Princess would let a man think he was in control, not if they wanted to keep them. Her mother's teachings came to mind and a smile of her own, wily and cunning, came to her lips.
"You are finished then? I thought you to eat more but find my own hunger must be satisfied now." She didn't allow him to speak, instead pressing her fingers against his mouth, feeling his lips part. His tongue flicked out, laving her palm and tracing the line between her fingers before sucking one into his mouth. She allowed him his play, knowing he thought to control her. But after only a few moments she pulled away from him, going to the table once more and seeing what else had been left. Her eyes sparkled as she took in the small bowl of pudding made from the day old breads that had grown stale. It was a favorite of hers and the cook made sure to always include a small bowl with her meals.
Lifting the gold dish, she studied Ryder, noting that he didn't seem so sure of himself now. "I think it is only fair that I be fed by you as you were by me, do you not think so?"
Ryder felt his heartbeat quicken. She would free him so that he could feed her as he was fed. Now could be his chance at escape. He would plan the moment and then over power her, using her as captive to get his men back and then they would escape this place and go home. Maybe he'd take Katrina with him, make her his slave though his father had released all slaves years before. It might be good for the uppity bitch to learn her place.
He watched as she sauntered forward, ignoring the prickle of desire she caused. She might as well be nude for all that the tiny wet shift covered of her, clinging as it did to her curves. He watched as she moved to his side, her small hand coming to the thick leather cuffs that bound him to this accursed wall. But instead of releasing him, she smeared a trail of the stuff in the bowl onto his skin, moving it up his arm and over his shoulder, leaving a dollop in the hollow of his collarbone before trailing more of it down his chest.
"What do you do wench?" he shouted, startled by the way her hands felt against his skin.
"I'm preparing you to feed me, Ryder. And for all heaven's sake, please call me Princess or Katrina. Calling me wench in front of my people would force me to have to have you punished. This I would find distasteful." She smiled up at him, licking the remainder of the pudding off of her fingers with tiny flicks of her tongue.
Her tongue, Ryder felt heat rise inside of him. She was going to use that soft pink tongue on him, licking up the sticky pudding that was slathered on his body. Panic was only one of many emotions that hit him at that moment, but it was the biggest. He started to struggle, feeling her eyes upon him as he threw his weight against his bonds, grunts of pain and anger coming from between his lips.
"Ryder, pet, it is no use to struggle. Those bindings are made by my finest craftsman and will not be broken by you. All you do is to deny yourself the pleasure you might feel if you were to let yourself." She smiled serenely, though inside her stomach was a tight mass of nerves. "This will happen," she said quietly, moving forward to bring her mouth to his wrist.
She felt his twistings and his movements even as she took her first taste. The pudding was sweet, spicy from the roots that were used to flavor it. His arm was warm, his flesh salty, adding his taste to the mix. It was an invigorating and heady mix, she thought as her tongue lapped along the underside of his bicep, investigating the slight line where his elbow would bend if he had the room.
She heard his breathing, harsh rasps that were unbelievably erotic to her ears as her tongue slipped up to his shoulder, her mouth suckling along the muscle of his neck even though she hadn't used any pudding there. His taste was more satisfying than any feast.
Ryder stopped dead, he could smell her scent, he could feel her body pressing against his, the shift dragging in the pudding and sticking them together. His heart raced and a flood of heat engulfed his loins, his cock growing hard and pushing against the soft skin of her stomach. His eyes closed as he bit his lip to hold back a moan of mixed despair and need. He hated her in that moment, hated her for making him want her despite the situation. But he had no control of his desire. He could only stand there and feel.
Katrina wanted his mouth on hers, wanted to know the dark flavor, the heat of his tongue against her own. She was innocent, but she'd known a man's kiss, having practiced upon one of the slaves of her mother's court. She'd watched as the women her mother's reign had entertained had pleasured themselves upon the slaves, taking them as they wished and in public with no thought to modesty or decency for themselves. She knew what happened between a man and a woman, she'd just never experienced it. But she wanted to, now, with him. With Ryder of Daring Castle, her new pet.
She tangled her hand in his matted hair, pulling his face down, feeling the bristles of whisker on his cheeks as they rubbed against hers. Her mouth found his, her tongue meeting his, moaning as he kissed her with a finesse and demand unknown for a slave. Her heart thudded against his chest, beating in desperate measure as she sought more, her hands roaming down his chest and over his stomach.
"Let me loose, Katrina," he whispered huskily against her mouth. "Let me love you like you were meant to be loved."
She tore her mouth from him, staring up and into his eyes. She saw lust, and hunger. But was the hunger for her or for freedom? She didn't know.
With a groan, she took a deep breath, forcing her body back a step from the wonderful pressure of his. Staring up at him, she pulled at the ties that had held the shift around her, letting the sticky wet garment fall to the floor around her. Her eyes traveled from his flushed face, over his body to his groin, seeing the length of his cock, hard and throbbing, standing erect with its purple tip pointed up toward her.
"It is beautiful, Ryder," she said, biting her lip as she let her hand rest against the satiny soft skin of his shaft. "So hot and hard, but soft at the same time. It is a mighty weapon you wield here," she whispered, dropping to her knees before him, her face only inches from his cock.
She stroked him, her fingers barely closing around the large shaft. A shiny drop of liquid grew from the tip, and she leaned forward, lapping at it with her tongue. It was bitter and salty, but tasted of him.
Ryder watched her tongue against his cock, unable to look away. He saw the uncertain expression upon her face as she tasted his juices for the first time. Her eyes glanced up, those green cat eyes that blinked once before she smiled slyly and licked her lips. The groan that came from him was wrung from deep inside, a groan of torturous pleasure unlike anything he'd felt before.
Then she leaned forward again, her soft, pink lips opening slowly, the tip of her tongue peaking out before her mouth stretched around the head of his cock, enveloping it in a satiny wet heat. His head fell back against the wall, his hips jerked as he felt her take more of him inside until half of his length pulsed upon her tongue.
Her mouth moved with amazingly soft friction against his shaft, her hand stroking what she couldn't take. She felt his hips moving under her mouth and felt a wash of heat in her loins, knowing that he was enjoying what she was doing through instinct and those nights of peeping at her mother and her friends. She could hear his gasps and moans, his whispered urgings to release him, to let him do to her what he wished so badly to do. It aroused her, those noises and his words, aroused her to the point where her own body was tight with need.
Her hand slid from his thigh, dropping to her own. It slid as if with a mind of its own, parting her sleek red curls and the thick, swollen lips of her sex that were almost dripping with her own desperate need. Her fingers pressed against the hardened bud of her clit, growing wet with her own moisture as she tormented herself with flicking movements and soft circular strokes.
Ryder stared down at her, seeing her hand buried between her thighs in a display of wanton lust. He groaned as he watched her move her fingers, stroking into the heat that he knew was there. He wanted it to be his hand, his fingers stroking over her delicate pink flesh, tormenting her clit until she came, spewing wet juices onto his hand in her pleasure. But his demands for release were unheeded, her mouth moving over his cock with a desperation that was quickly doing him in. He could feel the prickling heat that heralded the approach of his own pleasure and tried to deny it.
She moaned around his cock, the vibrations traveling through her mouth to his flesh. Ryder ground his teeth trying to hold back the inevitable and unable.
Katrina jumped with surprise when she felt the first burst of hot liquid from the tip of his cock that was buried snuggly within her mouth. She swallowed hurriedly, feeling his body jerk and his cock twitch with each spurt of salty liquid. She heard his shout and knew she'd brought him off, though her own loins still burned with need and desire, unquenched by her own untaught fingers.
She sucked and licked at his cock until she felt him grow limp, finally letting him loose of her soft lips. Looking up, she saw him staring down at her, his eyes half closed with an expression she couldn't quite decipher. His blue eyes glittered, looking hard and angry.
"Are you through with me now?"
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