After my body grew weary from horseback riding, I finally let my body curl into the savage king's. It was only so I could rest, I told myself. And sleep I did, quite easily, which surprised me. However, I knew that when I was suddenly jolted awake by my captor that something was wrong and it looked much darker than when I'd first closed my eyes.
"Tst!" he'd said, jarring me away.
"What is—"
His hand slapped over my mouth and that's when I hear it. Footsteps. It sounded like many men. Hope surged. My father's men were here to rescue me! The demon looked down at me and as if reading my thoughts, he grinned and shook his head.
Leaning down to my ear he whispered in that heathen voice of his, "Marauders, princess."
Marauders. I carefully scan the forest around us and pinpoint the origin of the footsteps. If only I had a weapon I would feel so out of control. "Give me a sword," I whisper to the brute, hoping he'd at least have the sense to use my fighting skills. The marauders in these parts were nothing to trifle with. They traveled in bands of at least four. They were cutthroats through and through who lived off others. Right now being a princess in such people's hands wouldn't bode well for me in any way. Ransom, rape, murder and unlike the demon on the horse with her there were more of them to hurt her.
The next minutes pass in a blur. I'm left on the horse to watch as the warrior deftly leapt from the horse and made his way to the marauders trying to trap them. All I can do is watch as he slits the first mans throat, a hard slash across the side of his neck. The blood spurt in such a way, I gag, my stomach recoiling. I've never seen such a grisly sight in my whole life.
The next four he disposes of like the savage he was. Using one man's bow and arrow he shot the fine arrow straight through one man's eye. It was impossible for me to keep watching. A scream curled from my throat as I jump off the horse and run behind a tree. There is no thought of running. I'm too terrified by these men and what I've just witnessed. My heart's racing and it won't slow down. I hear a man cry out—a gargled, wet sound—he's dead now.
It became quiet. Finally, I put on my brave face and go leave my hiding place behind the tree. There he is. Moonlight illuminating his painted flesh, parts of it smeared and marred from grappling with the men.
I can't catch my breath. The men, every single one of them lie dead, their blood spilt. He'd killed all of them. Across the distance separating us, the savage stood like a triumphant warrior after battle. His eyes were keen and something untamed danced within them. Those eyes were watching me.
For some reason my body's trembling. There's magic pulling between us making my body yearn and feel tight and hot in places that flustered me. They were only places he'd touched. He stalks to me. My feet struggle to back up quickly enough but I can't. He's on me, lips crashing down. His kiss for some reason isn't as repulsive as it had been.
When his hands gripped my backside and pulled me into his manhood I stilled. He was hard again. So soon? It had only been hours since he spilt seed in my hand. Could all men recover this quickly? His tongue shoves into my mouth and the sensations change. This kiss is wet and makes me feel warm around my breasts and between my legs.
He groans and grunts as he kisses me like the beast he is—a flicker of arousal grows the longer he touches me.
"Freeja, nent voll mut mea kok."
"What are you saying?"
He pulled back to look me in the eyes. "It means, I want to fuck you."
The foreign term did not translate. Fuck. It sounded crude and dirty. "What is that? What does that mean?"
Why did goose flesh spread down my arms?
"It means I'm going to stick you with my cock, princess. I canna wait."
"What!" I barely made out the word before he started pulling my dress up.
I struggled against him but he only took us both down to the ground. I wiggled and fought, my heels digging into dirt, teeth snarling. He breathed hard too and I could feel his stiff manhood prodding my thigh as he fought to lift my heavy skirts.
"You will not force me, savage!"
He stopped, my skirts up past my waist. His head cocked as if he was thinking about my words. But then he touched me between my legs in a spot I'd never, not even once, been touched by a man. I gasp, furiously blushing.
Down there, I'm wet. His lips part as he touches me, fingers slipping across my soft area. But he's gentle and when the pleasure began to blossom I didn't know what to do, but I knew I didn't want it to stop.
