The Barbarian's Pet (3 page)

The moment passed and she did not bite. She accepted his cock. A roar of applause went up around the men as Sariah’s lips were stretched, Griffen’s hand twisting in her hair as he held her in place and began fucking her mouth.

She gasped and gargled as that thick rod plunged between her lips over and over and over again, long punishing thrusts clearly designed to stake his claim and show his men that the woman who had cost them one of their number was being as thoroughly broken as any wild filly.

Griffen’s grip was powerful, his hand controlling her head and with her head, the rest of her body too. His cock controlled her breath, sliding so deep into her mouth that for very brief moments she found air hard to gasp.

All the while he locked eyes with her, his will imposed on her with every thrust of his hips. He fancied he could feel her start to respond, her lips closing around his cock, her tongue making willing contact with the underside of his rod. He almost doubted his senses; if this girl was anything, it was rebellious.

He pulled his cock out until just the tip of it rested on her tongue, noting that she did not try to pull away. She kept her mouth in place, her tongue lapping gently, perhaps involuntarily at the underside of his head.

“Show me what you have learned, Sariah,” he said, giving her the opportunity to control the situation a little. If she was smart, she would obey him. That would impress the men and ensure that he did not have to use the crop too harshly.

Instead of obediently sucking his cock, she resisted silently. Showing a little more mercy than was perhaps wise, Griffen brought the crop down lightly against her exposed rear. The kneeling position made her buttocks arch out alluringly, twin rounds bared to his discipline. The end of the crop tapped her left buttock, leaving a pink mark in its wake. When she did not immediately obey him, he landed a second strike on the right buttock. This time a bright red welt sprang up almost immediately on her soft skin.

With his pet squirming before him, her lips still wrapped around his cock so her every whimper bought him a jolt of pleasure, Griffen lowered his voice so only she could hear him. “I could beat you, Sariah, I could make you writhe in pain for the amusement of my men, and then make you pleasure me with your mouth. Or you could be a good girl and do as you’re told now. The choice is yours. They will enjoy the show whichever way it unfolds.”

She gave him a look of bitter resentment, not realizing mercy when she received it. That was the way of wild things. She would be grateful upon reflection. In the moment, hot pride and burning embarrassment made that emotion impossible.

Griffen struck her left buttock again, snapping his wrist to make the leather crack against her skin with a wicked heat. “If I have to give you one more of those, I will give you a dozen,” he warned, wondering internally why he was being quite so gentle with her. She had earned herself a thorough thrashing, but instead of whipping her into submission, he instead found himself cajoling the beautiful young woman into obedience.

The extra trouble was worth his while. Griffen felt her tongue flex at the warning, running over the underside of his cock with a tentative touch that sent a bolt of excitement flashing through him. Her mouth was a delight, soft and tender and the motions of her tongue, although initially reluctant, soon became extremely pleasurable as she gave way to a deeper feminine instinct that knew nothing of disobedience.

Sariah began to suckle at his cock, powerful instinct taking over as she pleasured the man who had bested her and drawn out the inner wanton wildcat whose lust had long been denied.

Griffen threw back his head and uttered a primal masculine groan, his fingers loosening their grip for a moment, then clasping her hair again as he began to almost knead her scalp, drawing her closer then letting her go. He could feel his cum roiling in his balls, the desire to spend himself down her throat overriding everything else.

Sariah seemed to be as caught up in the moment as he was. Her hips were swaying, pink-marked bottom wiggling this way and that as she slid her mouth all the way down his shaft and took him as deep as she could. Impressed by her obedience, Griffen murmured praise, his voice strained with the climax that was bearing down on him like a charging stallion.

He looked down into her eyes, her ruby lips wrapped so tightly around his thick shaft, her cheeks hollowed with the suckling motions she was making and for a moment, he forgot that this woman was his prisoner. For a brief second of pure ecstasy, she was elementally female, as free and as wild as any creature on the plains. Her eager cock suckling brought his seed forth, rushing up the length of his shaft as he let out a loud growling yell of triumph. His thick seed coated her tongue and slid down her throat. There was no choice whether or not to swallow as Griffen pressed his cock to the back of Sariah’s tongue and ensured several spurts made their way down into her belly.

The pleasure was much greater than that he usually felt from orgasm. There was a rush of conquest, but something more too, a tenderness he could not quite understand. She was so beautiful there at his feet, his cum still glistening on her lips, her eyes soft and somewhat bewildered.

Griffen reached down, hauled her up against his chest and kissed her deeply, his tongue snaking into her mouth, sharing the aftertaste of his seed.

“Perfect,” he said, locking eyes with her as she arched against his naked body, her curves fitting the planes of his body as if they had been sculpted for that very purpose. “Utterly perfect.”

* * *

In spite of the fact she had lost her home, her freedom, and her pride, Sariah glowed at his compliment. Some kind of fever had taken hold of her when his cock met her tongue. Her blood had been hot from battle and Griffen’s conquering act had been more pleasurable than she had anticipated. Though she was blushing from submission and defeat, she was also deeply aroused.

While the men cheered their king, Griffen scooped her up in his arms and carried her back to the privacy of the royal tent, a well-appointed dwelling with three interior rooms. She was taken to the rear portion where a large bed had been assembled and lined with a great many furs. Used to sleeping rough with nothing but a cloak and perhaps soft grass to rest her head upon, Sariah was pleasantly surprised by just how soft the bed was to land on as the king tossed her upon it, her welted bottom meeting the soft fur.

Griffen followed her onto the bed, his large body covering her own, his muscled thigh parting her legs. For a panicked moment she thought he was going to thrust his cock inside her, but it was his fingers that slid between her wet pussy lips, her juices easing the passage of those two digits as he sank them up to the second knuckle before encountering the barrier of her hymen.

“I thought so,” he said, stilling his fingers. “You are a virgin. Untouched.”

She had been untouched before, but she was no longer certain that term applied. Griffen might not have fucked her, but she could still taste his cum in her mouth and every part of her body seemed to bear some residual sensation of his hands.

Sariah looked up at him, uncertain as to what he intended to do with her. His cock was as hard as it had been when she sucked him, perhaps harder. She looked down to see the great length pressing against her stomach, seeming impossibly long. There was no human way that rod could fit inside the tight crevice between her thighs.

“You’re trembling,” he said, running the fingers of his other hand through her hair. “Don’t worry, Sariah. I am not a cruel man.”

His fingers were still inside her and she could feel the walls of her vagina clenching around them, testing the feeling of what it was to be filled even a little. To her surprise, there was no pain. Her lips easily stretched around his fingers, her juices slicking them so that the heat and hardness slid easily inside her. Slowly, Griffen began pulsing his fingers back and forth inside her, then suddenly he twisted his hand slightly and let his thumb brush against her clit.

“Oh!” Sariah let out a moan of pleasure and surprise as a tingle of excitement fizzed at the little nub and quickly rippled through her loins.

Griffen’s smile was rakish and handsome. “It feels good, doesn’t it, Sariah. This is what you were made for, pet. You do not yet know what your body is capable of doing and taking and feeling, but I will show you all that and more.” He pressed his thumb down over the bud of her clit and Sariah found herself almost immediately out of breath, her head spinning as her hips moved instinctively against his hand in a grinding motion.

“Good girl,” Griffen praised softly, his voice a low erotic purr. “Make yourself come, Sariah, take your pleasure on my fingers.”

She moaned softly, blushing profusely as she found her body moving at his behest. He watched her with an approving gaze, smiling as she arched her hips and ground herself against his palm with more eagerness than she knew she was capable of. When he lifted his thumb, her hips sought it again, pressing her needy clit against him.

He began to thrust his fingers harder, careful not to break her hymen, but adding a third finger so her pussy was stretched wider than she thought was possible, her clit becoming more sensitive as the thrusts became harder, her breath came shorter, and a tingling raced up her spine, broke over her scalp in a thrill of pleasure and then burst in one great crashing wave, racing over her body.

She reached down, grasping his hand so that he could not move it away, wet sounds filling the tent as she fucked herself on his fingers, making that exquisite sensation grow and roll on and on. This was a climax like no other. Sariah had rubbed the little button between her thighs before of course, but never felt any kind of release like the one she was experiencing there in the king’s tent, her skin coated in a sheen of sweat, her body writhing in orgasm.

“Very good, my pet,” he praised when she finally laid back on the bed, limp and sated, her face flushed with heat.

Pet. The word sank through her ecstatic consciousness. To Sariah’s surprise, she felt warmth in the word and saw it in his eyes. She found herself gazing up at him with a soft wondering confusion. All her life she had wondered what it would be like to be with a man. Though she was still a virgin, she thought she knew now. It was finding that her body was capable of feeling more than she had imagined, that her capacity for pleasure went far beyond the little rubbed climaxes she gave herself. With Griffen she was more than what she had been. The wetness and light ache between her thighs spoke to a change that she felt throughout her entire being.

“Sleep now,” he ordered as he laid his naked bulk next to her, one heavy arm sliding around her waist to pull her against his muscular body. Sariah had never shared her bed before either, but it felt so natural with Griffen. As she closed her eyes and let her tired muscles relax, she almost forgot that she was a captive and he a king. A sense of safety engulfed her tired senses as her eyes closed on the long day.

The new day dawned and Griffen was pleased beyond compare with his pet. He was a very long way from his palace and many months of riding had not yielded much in the way of interest. Past the age when rutting with every female in sight had any appeal, Griffen had been suffering from a peculiar form of loneliness that arose from his position of power. He could have any woman he wanted, but he could not truly know their hearts. The concubines smiled pretty smiles and batted their eyelashes, but theirs was a veneer of affection, an appropriation of love.

He had strong alliances among his men, but still there was a void that only a woman could fill. Griffen had known many, many women, but none like the shepherd girl who laid curled beneath royal furs, asleep due to pure exhaustion. A few flecks of blood remained on her cheek, reminding him of the act of defense she had engaged in. A very rare quality to take up arms against a man; an even rarer one to be effective in any way.

Of course, she could not be allowed to know that he admired her actions. Encouraging that sort of behavior could have dangerous consequences and Griffen did not wish to wake up one day to his own dagger in his throat. Sariah was wild, but she could be tamed. He was experienced in working with wild things. The equines who made up his cavalry were all wild caught, roped from roaming herds and broken to saddle. Sariah was not so very different.

With the sun creeping higher in the sky, Griffen tossed back the fur and slapped her rump, startling her into consciousness. Her eyes flew open, her light brown gaze like fermented honey meeting his eyes with a flash of anger.

“The sun has risen,” he said. “You have slept long enough. Fetch me water.”

He knew before she uttered a word that she was going to refuse the order. It took significant self-control for him to maintain a hard exterior as he watched her struggle with her temper and promptly lose. Her rebellion took the form of a sullen silence and refusal to move, but that could not be allowed any more than aggression had been.

Without another word of warning, he took hold of his disobedient pet and hauled her over his lap. She writhed over his thighs, her bare buttocks pleasantly round in the position that left her completely vulnerable to the flat of his palm, which he applied vigorously in a series of swift slaps.

If she had been spanked before, she did not show it. Sariah reacted as if nobody had ever so much as laid a disciplinary finger on her. The moment his palm met her cheeks she let out a high-pitched squeal and bucked as hard as she could. Unfortunately for her, Griffen had her firmly in place, one arm wrapped around her waist tightly enough to keep her where he wanted her no matter what she did.

“Settle,” he commanded gruffly. “I will not tolerate disobedience, Sariah. You are my pet and you will be obedient.”

She stiffened, the curves of her body becoming harder as she flexed her muscles and tried silent resistance.

“It hurts more to be thrashed on a tight rear,” he informed her, proving his point by slapping her bottom with just as much vigor as before. The ample rounds relaxed almost instantly, bouncing beneath his palm as she learned at least one lesson.