The Barbarian's Pet (12 page)

“For everything,” she said. “For pardoning me when I killed your men…”

“I would have pardoned you regardless,” Griffen said. “I did not authorize the taking of prisoners. Unfortunately, when men from new tribes join my armies sometimes they bring unpleasant habits with them, including the theft of women. I was not made aware of your presence in our camp until the bloodshed. If I am to be entirely honest, Sariah, you saved me a task.”

She looked at him in shock. “You would have put those men to death?”

“It is my edict that citizens are never to be touched or harmed,” he said. “The men knew that. The one who abducted you sealed his own fate.”

“Then why did you make an example of me?”

“Because I could not allow a scrap of femininity to shed blood without any repercussions. That would have been seen as weakness, and when one commands barbarians, one can never be weak.”

Everything he did was considered, she realized that now. Even when he seemed brutal and vicious, it was never without reason or strategy. Which led her to another question.

“If you do not believe in taking women, why did you keep me?”

“Because, Sariah, even afraid and covered in blood, you were the most stunning woman I have laid eyes on. From the moment I saw you, I wanted to possess you. I knew I was nothing but another figure of terror to you, so I made you mine in a way that allowed me to take care of you. And I hoped that in time, you would feel some tenderness for me.”

“But when I ran away, you decided that I would never be happy with you,” she said sadly. “And you wanted to return me. Because I have been too proud and too willful to tell you the truth.”

“What is the truth, Sariah?”

Sariah looked into his eyes and spoke with all the passion in her heart. “That I have loved you from the moment we met, when you treated me with some respect, gave me a weapon to defend myself. Even when you made me your pet and punished me, you did it as if you were trying to contain something almost… greater than yourself.”

Griffen let out a little chuckle. “You think yourself greater than a king, Sariah?”

“I mean…” she blushed and trailed off.

“I know what you mean,” Griffen smiled, pressing kisses to her cheeks. “You are wild and you are free in a way many men are not. Having you is like having one of the elements wearing my collar. I never know what you will do next, but I know I will never be disappointed.”

He kissed her passionately with the full force of his love and his care. Sariah melted against his body, giving herself to his kiss. She felt his large hands roaming over the curves of her body, a tender caress that swirled over her rear and roamed down her thighs.

In the low brush highlighted by the fire’s mid-distant flames Griffen laid her down, sliding her dress up her thighs to reveal the smooth mound of her lower lips. He began to tease his fingers up and down her slit, pressing down and parting them to reveal the tight, wet, willing entrance.

His tongue continued to massage hers, his kiss demanding as his fingers played with her lips, parting and stroking and playing without actually entering her. He lifted his mouth from hers, locked eyes with her and growled three words she had been waiting to hear.

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” she whispered back, wrapping her arms around his neck as she lifted her hips and thrust herself toward him. She wanted to feel him inside her. She wanted to be connected to him, to be one with him, to feel his cock sinking as deep inside her as possible, their juices mingling, barriers melting. Her grief was turning to pure need, not just for sex, but for him to engulf her and wash away her worry with the power of his body.

Griffen seemed to understand intuitively what she needed, his arms embracing her, pulling her against his body so close they were almost like one being.

Her body still bore the marks and aches of his punishment, but instead of feeling rebellious, the tenderness in her most intimate places only served to remind Sariah of just how forceful Griffen’s love for her could be. He was a man of great power, a barbarian restrained by nothing but his love for her, his desire to see her happy.

The head of his cock pushed gently against her lower lips, spreading her tender wetness with a slow loving stroke. Sariah moaned into Griffen’s mouth, her eyes prickling with tears of sadness and love as they joined together, bodies and hearts meeting under the stars. Long, slow, and languid, they made love through the night. The emotion and action of the day had taken its toll on both of them and from time to time sleep would slide over their coupling forms until an instinctively needful thrust woke them back into copulation.

Half asleep, half awake, Sariah drank every part of Griffen in, taking his manhood deep inside her, his thickness comforting rather than conquering, her tight walls caressing him with a sweet desire that fell just short of climax but sustained desire throughout her long dark night of the soul.

Sariah woke with the rising sun. For once, Griffen did not have to nudge her out of slumber. The need to recover her family superseded all other needs. The stars were still lingering in the west by the time she was up on his mount and waiting for departure before most of the camp was awake.

Griffen handed her a chunk of bread and a water vessel. “Feed yourself,” he said. “This will be a long day.”

“I will eat when we have my people,” Sariah said, tossing the bread aside.

“Spoken like a queen,” Griffen chuckled, handing her another piece of bread. “Eat. Or I will whip your hide.”

He spoke with a deep intonation that Sariah knew better than to ignore. She made a token effort to nibble at the food, even though her mouth was dry and her stomach rebelled against it. Her impatience began to affect the horse, who began pawing at the ground and tossing his head, channeling her agitation.

“Easy,” Griffen said, smoothing his hand over the horse’s neck. “And you, easy too,” he said, giving Sariah a look laced with command. “This is not a time for emotion. Though I know you can barely contain it, you must be brave, Sariah.”

The inspiring talk was not necessary. Sariah’s loins were girded for battle of any kind. She would not sleep another night without avenging her people, of that she was certain.

“What will we do when we find them? What will become of them?”

“They will all be transported to my capital,” Griffen said, swinging himself up into the saddle behind her. “If I have to move heaven and earth to have you, I will do it. Bringing your village to my castle is the smallest of matters.”

“You would do that for me?”

“I would do more than that for you,” he said, pulling her close, his hips riding against her rear with the motion of the horse. His body was a comfort, his strength a promise. All would be well. She did not know how all could be well, but she knew it would be.

So began a long day’s ride. At times Sariah thought she spotted something, but it always turned out to be a deer or a herd of wild goats, not the villagers she was so worried for. The emotional toll of high and low began to wear her down, but she took her strength from Griffen, whose steady command kept all contained.

“That has to be them,” Sariah said suddenly, just as she had said dozens of times before. “It’s them. Isn’t it? It’s the bandits. They’re there!”

Griffen called a halt, and for the first time, agreed with her assessment. “I think so,” he said. “But if we can see them, they can see us, which means we will not have the element of surprise. Sariah, I will put you off here with Rafe. You will wait here with him and I will take my warriors and ride ahead. Wait until you hear word before approaching. I do not want you to witness battle again.”

“No!” Sariah refused immediately. “Take me with you.”

“I will not,” Griffen growled. “This is not a matter for discussion. I will lash you to a tree if necessary.”

“My king,” Rafe suggested. “Let her ride with me. I will ensure her safety, and she will not be far from her loved ones either.”

The compromise did not please either Griffen or Sariah entirely, but they agreed to it. Time was of the essence, and bickering over how to approach the situation would do nobody any good.

“I remember a time my orders were law,” Griffen growled as Sariah slid from his horse over to Rafe’s.

“That was before you met me,” Sariah said with raised chin.

“I will deal with your insolence later, pet,” Griffen said, his eyes flashing warning at her. “To arms, men!”

Sariah could do nothing but watch as Griffen and his men charged toward the encampment, swords drawn ready to do battle for her village and family. Rafe refused to move his own steed forward until they had a significant lead, and then he moved at no more than a trot.

“Faster,” Sariah implored him. “Anything could be happening!”

“I know that very well,” Rafe replied. “Let Griffen do what must be done. You do not need to see this, Sariah.”

“Move, Rafe!” She nudged him and his horse to try to gather speed.

“I do not take orders from you, Sariah,” Rafe reminded her as he reined his mount in. “Griffen left you in my care, and unless you want to be punished, you need to be patient.”

“You have no authority to punish me,” Sariah flung back over her shoulder. “I have more authority to punish you. When I have the king’s ear again, I will ensure he knows of your treachery.”

“I’m following orders, Sariah,” Rafe insisted. “And you should too. Be patient.”

“Patient!”

Sariah could not be patient. There was no point in patience. Patience was for the weak, the slow, and those who lacked will. She began to slide off Rafe’s horse, and would have been successful but for the squire catching her by a big scruff of hair at the back of her neck. She yowled furiously and cursed his name, but he held firm.

“I can’t let you off this horse,” he said. “Settle down. Griffen will send word when he is ready for us.”

“Griffen will send word to the bits of you that are left if you don’t let me go this instant,” Sariah snarled back. “Let go of my hair.”

“Stay on the horse,” Rafe insisted.

“Fine,” Sariah agreed. “I’ll stay on the horse if you let go of my hair.”

Rafe let go of her hair. Sariah turned around and pushed him off the horse.

* * *

While Sariah bickered with his squire at a safe distance, Griffen rode in to the small camp, sword drawn, hooves thundering beneath him. There was no doubt as to who the barbarians were and what they had done. Although he had not mentioned it to Sariah for fear of frightening her, he knew exactly why a group of barbarians would take a group of elderly people. The altar surrounded by burning brush confirmed his suspicions. Some barbarians could be subdued to the useful and the good, others clung to old notions and heinous practices like human sacrifice. Fortunately, they seemed to have arrived in time to save the villagers, who were blindfolded and bound together near the fire, awaiting a fate worse than simple death.

Griffen did not have to utter a single command. Following his lead, the barbarian king’s men swept in on those who had disturbed his rule like avenging angels, blades flashing in swift execution of those who had unleashed violence on innocent citizens.

It was not a battle, it was over too quickly for that. With the first few men cut down, the others soon fled. Those who preyed on the weak and elderly did not have the mettle for doing battle with true warriors.

“Hunt them down and take them prisoner,” Griffen ordered as their figures dwindled toward the distance. “We will see how they like being captive and marched across the landscape. The rest of you free these prisoners.”

Obeying his orders without question, his men swiftly released the confused and frightened villagers from their bonds. Griffen dismounted and walked among the villagers, searching for the woman who mattered most.

“Which one of you is the mother of Sariah?”

A woman of advanced years raised her hand. “That is I,” she said in trembling tones. “Please, do you know what became of my daughter?”

“She is safe,” Griffen reassured the woman, still handsome in spite of her years. He could see echoes of his love’s eyes in the wrinkled visage of the frightened old lady, a beauty and a strength that carried them both through trying times. “I have come on her bidding.”

“My Sariah commands a king?” The old woman’s eyes twinkled.

“In more ways than I could have imagined,” Griffen admitted. “Bring water and food for these people,” he called out. “They need nourishment.”

“You are a kind king,” Sariah’s mother said after she had drunk a little and eaten a little more. “A strong man. We owe you everything. If there is anything we humble people can do…”

“I would have your daughter’s hand in marriage,” Griffen said swiftly, asking for the one thing only she could give.

“Marriage.” Sariah’s mother nodded. “If she wills it. She is not mine to give away. She has always been a strong and willful spirit. I cannot give her hand, not even to a king…”

“Mother!” Sariah burst suddenly through the grasses and wrapped her arms around the old woman. She was sweating profusely from what must have been a very long run, her cheeks ruddy, her legs covered in mud, her hair loose about her face. She was as beautiful as she was misbehaved, and she did not care in the slightest, more concerned with her mother’s condition than obeying his orders.

“I’m sorry,” Rafe said as he arrived a moment later, also out of breath. “She tricked me into getting off my horse and then spooked it and ran this way, she…”

Griffen held up his hand. “All is well, Rafe,” he reassured his squire. “It is safe now. You held her back as long as anyone could be expected to hold back one of nature’s most impetuous and disobedient forces.”

“I will not apologize,” Sariah said, her arms wrapped around her mother’s shoulders. “You should have let me be here. I will not be kept from my family. I will not be shielded from danger. I will not…”

“Sariah!” Her mother said sharply. “That is no way to speak to your future husband.”

“My future what?” Sariah’s eyes widened as she looked between her mother and Griffen. “What is happening?”