The Barbarian's Pet (2 page)

Sariah closed her fingers more tightly around the hilt and felt the weight of the weapon. It was a small comfort, though she still shook from head to toe in contemplation of the task before her. If Griffen could be trusted, she was on the brink of heaven or hell. The notion of returning to her people with her virtue intact, her horse laboring under the king’s gold, was an alluring one.

A flurry of black silk made her gasp at the same time as a roar of laughter erupted around her. The king had disrobed, leaving the length of his impressive frame bare. Sariah stared at his nakedness, her eyes becoming wider than they had ever been. She now understood why kings were revered as gods. Griffen’s body was nothing less than heavenly. He looked as though he had been sculpted by the hand of some divine being to be as elegantly powerful and regal as possible.

Her eyes ran down from his broad shoulders to the chest devoid of hair, slabs of muscle giving way to the ripple of his abdominal plane, narrow but powerful hips, and then his cock, long and thick at the apex of his thighs. Sariah averted her eyes, a hot blush passing over every part of her. She felt her palm begin to sweat, little beads of liquid making the hilt of her blade slip in her hand.

“Now we are both naked,” he said with a rakish wink. “It will never be said that I had the advantage of clothing where you did not.”

One of his attendants bought a dagger forward. Griffen waved it away. “I have no need of weapons with this one,” he said, his gaze holding Sariah in thrall. “And I certainly would not want to mark that skin.”

He extended his hand toward her and beckoned with one crooked finger. “Come, lamb,” he said. “Earn your freedom.”

She hesitated. It was not in her nature to be the aggressor, even for all the gold in the land.

“What is the matter, lamb? Have you lost your nerve?” Griffen chuckled. “Let me tell you the second part of our bargain. If you can draw blood, you will have the riches I have promised you. But if you do not…” His voice dropped to a lustful masculine growl. “I will have you as my personal pet. You will envy the freedom of a slave when I make you mine.”

Sariah’s heart began to pound in her chest. She had assumed that if she failed her life was forfeit, but Griffen did not have death in mind for her. He had something she did not truly understand from the words he said, but understood perfectly in the way a trickle of excited fear slid down her spine in response to the tone and intent behind his words.

Panic made blood rush away from her skin toward her muscles as her skin became pale, her body tense. Her future was to be decided at the tip of her blade—and yet she could not bring herself to raise it against King Griffen. After what his men had done, he would have deserved it if she had plunged the blade into his heart, but Sariah was not a bloodthirsty warrior. She had no taste for the business of battle.

“Still you refuse?” Griffen’s expression began to fade into something like disappointment. “Do you surrender, Sariah?”

“I have never attacked a man,” Sariah said. “I would not like to harm you.”

Her words bought a round of laughter from Griffen and his men. The notion of her being afraid to wound a king struck them all as most amusing.

“So it is for my benefit you tremble with your blade pointing toward the dirt, I see. If you only act in defense I will give you something to defend against. Understand this, Sariah. If I catch you and subdue you, the wager is over. You will be my pet and your freedom will be forfeit.”

He moved toward her, reaching for her quivering frame. She saw his large hand approaching as he tried to take hold of her. Somewhere in the last seconds, she found her courage.

Men were stronger, bolder, larger, but Sariah had a few advantages on her side. She was naturally more nimble, more adept with finer motions. As Griffen’s bulk came toward her, she lashed out with the blade, a wild strike guided by instinct.

Griffen fell back. She saw his eyes widen, shock spearing through his pupils, making them narrow. A hush had fallen on every man in the camp—and suddenly Sariah saw why. The blade had been impossibly close to cutting him. A thin line of white, a mere scratch had appeared on his chest. She had touched him, but no blood had been drawn. The terms of the agreement had not been met, but the king was shaken.

A little smile played over her lips. Pride was not for women, but she could not help but feel a little twinge of it at rendering bold King Griffen and his men silent even for a brief second.

“Well, little lamb,” he said in dangerously soft tones. “You truly do surprise. Were you aiming for my heart?”

Sariah did not reply. She was focused. One more mistake on the king’s part and she would be riding away from his encampment, forever free. Griffen began circling her slowly, making her turn to follow him. If he managed to get behind her, there was no doubt he’d be able to disarm her. She found herself watching his eyes more than his body, reading his intent in every flicker of his lids and lashes.

“When you are my pet, I will have you dance for me,” he purred. “Naked, just as you are now. You will please me in every fashion. I will use your body for my pleasure and make you quake with the force of your own…”

He was trying to distract her and unnerve her. He seemed to have forgotten that she was a simple girl in the presence of a king and his warriors. She was as unnerved as she ever had been. His words only served to inflame her resolve, to send heat coursing through her body as she vowed that such things would never come to pass.

Suddenly, Griffen reached for her with his left hand. Sariah’s blade flashed toward him, but it was a feint. His right hand came around the other side, just barely visible in her peripheral vision. She felt his fingers grazing her arm and pulled back, throwing herself off balance. She tumbled backwards, her momentum making her roll right over her head and up onto her feet.

“Graceful,” he noted. “You will make a lovely dancer, pet.”

It was impossible to ignore the fact that Griffen was excited. His cock was growing with every successive little skirmish. She could see a light in his eyes, a hunger that could only be sated by female flesh. Hers.

Sariah gripped the knife tighter.

Griffen’s men were stamping their feet and clapping their hands, thrilled with the entertainment. They were brutes, the lot of them but Sariah could pay them no mind. This was no mere display to her. This was a chance for freedom.

“Look how serious you have become,” Griffen smiled, his teeth flashing. “I think my little pet is beginning to enjoy herself.”

He was wrong. There was no enjoyment. The pounding of her heart, the rushing of blood through her veins, the tingling in every extremity, they meant nothing.

Griffen stopped circling and stood still, watching her with a handsome smirk on his arrogant face. “I will enjoy spearing you,” he said in crude reference to the sex act. “Are you a virgin, Sariah? I think you are. There is an innocence even in your fury.”

He was wasting his breath. She was not interested in his taunts. The pulsing between her legs was likely a response to stress, not to the fact that the powerful king’s cock had reached an extraordinary length and was pressed hard against his body. Her eyes were drawn there, to the thick rod trammeled with veins and moving almost of its own accord at times, pulsing with his motions.

The swift shadow of his arm made her realize that he was making another attempt to capture her. This time there was no time to swing her blade; she turned and ran around the fire, escaping with a burst of speed that barely saved her skin. Had Griffen truly given chase he could have overhauled her in an instant. Instead he watched her bouncing buttocks as she ran and shared the amusement of his men.

“Distracted by my cock, weren’t you, Sariah?” Griffen grinned broadly. “The virgin cannot resist her curiosity. Do not worry, pet, you will taste this soon. I will slide myself down your throat and you will swallow every drop of my seed.”

Sariah’s face twisted and blushed at the same time. His promises were vile, but she could not deny that her breath came a little shorter when he spoke, and she was certain that she had almost been captured because she was distracted by his manhood.

Her mind was becoming clouded by his threats and taunts, she was losing her nerve and she was also beginning to tire. Sariah was no seasoned warrior. The arm that held the dagger was already beginning to feel the strain of its weight. If she was going to act, she would have to act immediately or forever surrender to the barbarian king.

“Come, Sariah, go to your hands and knees and present your cunt to me,” Griffen said, his voice a low erotic purr that made some part of her unknown to her virgin mind resonate with excitement. “Your thighs already glisten with your need.”

Sariah looked down and saw that he was right. Her inner thighs were gleaming with moisture running from the chalice between her legs. Confused by her response to the king, Sariah was frozen in place. Was she truly aroused? Was this how it felt to want a man?

“You will make the perfect pet,” he continued. “Once you are tamed and trained, you will be the envy of any concubine in the land.”

Concubine. That’s what he wanted to make her. A whore to be used as he saw fit. She would rather die than have that be her fate.

Rebellion blazed in Sariah, made her feet move swiftly across the ground. She would spill his blood, claim her victory, and take his gold.

Griffen stood still, the broad expanse of his body bared to her, every part of him vulnerable to the knife. She took his stillness for surprise at the ferocity of her attack, which happened so swiftly that there was barely time to blink before she was upon him, the blade a fraction of a hair away from making contact with his skin for a second time. Somehow he turned at the last moment and her momentum carried her past him, the knife cutting nothing but air.

Before Sariah could recover, a hard, heavy hand clamped down on the back of her neck, another on her wrist, squeezing until she let the knife go. She resisted with all the strength she had, but it was not enough. She was caught.

She let out a cry of dismay and lashed out with everything she had, her teeth catching the hand on her wrist in a harsh bite, which drew copper-tasting blood. She heard his breath hissing between his teeth, and the grip on the back of her neck tightening as he pulled her up to look her in the eye.

“Our wager is over,” Griffen said calmly. “You will not ever take an aggressive action against me again. If you do, you will be whipped for it, do you understand me, Sariah?”

“I would take a thousand whippings to be free of you,” she spat boldly. Adrenaline was pumping through her body, fear making her bolder than she had been. Even if all was lost, she would not quietly bow her head and accept fate.

His white teeth flashed inches from her face. “Is it the thought of a thousand whippings making you drench yourself?”

He ran his fingers between her legs, scooping wetness that trickled down his fingers as he held them up to show her, and everyone else.

“You are as wet and willing as a bride on her wedding night,” Griffen said triumphantly. “Will you admit that and submit to my will with grace? Or will you force me to take a rougher path?”

Sariah’s eyes blazed at him. “I will never submit to you.”

She wished she could have meant those words in every part of her, but Griffen was right. Her lower lips were tingling where his fingers had brushed their abrupt path. She wanted him to touch her again. She wanted to know how the thick length of his devastatingly erect cock felt between her thighs.

Sariah’s greatest secret was that her virginity was a burden she no longer wished to carry, but virtue was valued above all and Sariah had never been one to dishonor her family. With her heart pounding, blood rushing, her wetness making the tight passage of her pussy all the more alluring, some wanton part of her wanted to thrust forward in his grasp and have Griffen bury his cock inside her.

“Oh, you will submit,” Griffen laughed. “You have no choice in that matter.”

* * *

She was his. Every part of her beautiful trembling body was his to command. Had been from the moment he laid eyes on her, but now she knew it too.

“Ravage her!”

The cry went up around the men. Griffen would have loved nothing more than to throw Sariah down and plunge his sword into her tight little cunt, but he had no intention of taking her roughly, not at first. Far too many slaves were ruined by overeager masters who made coupling something to be afraid of. Sariah’s natural instincts were strong and her body reacted to his slightest touch. He had no doubt that she could become sexually eager if she were introduced with passion tempered with patience.

That did not mean she would escape without any demonstration of her sexual submission. His men needed to see that the woman who had killed several of their number was bought to heel, punished for her crimes. He could not be seen to be weak in his handling of her.

“Bring me a riding crop,” he called out. “We will break this fine filly now.”

Sariah’s eyes widened, her caramel gaze filling with fear. Griffen felt his resolve weaken. Beating her for trying to escape wasn’t fair. The fact that lives had been lost spoke more to the incompetence of the men involved than any fault on her part.

The crop was handed to him. He kept it in hand while pushing her to her knees before him, her quivering lips less than an inch from the length of his cock.

“Show your contrition and submission,” he growled down at her, his hand firmly locked in her hair. “Suck me.”

She opened her mouth, perhaps to argue. He didn’t give her the chance. He thrust his cock into her mouth, a bold gesture given she had just bitten him. Griffen saw a flash of fire in her eyes. He lifted the crop warningly and raised a brow at her. An unspoken conversation was taking place between them. If she dared bite him, there would be no more mercy.

In that moment, he was showing more than mastery. In a way, he was showing trust. With his flesh between her teeth, he was vulnerable. If she hated him enough, she could inflict a severe injury. To do so would be to invite a punishment beyond punishment, but Sariah had already shown that she was not bound by the usual rules of feminine resistance.