Ben'hamin

"Hush, sweet Madhya, or this will take all night." He brushed her neck in a gentle kiss that made her lower her head to give him room. Willing, he thought closing his eyes as a wicked grin graced his lips. "Close your legs just a bit for me, pet," he growled up against her ear showing her with his hands how he wanted her to kneel.

"That's right," he whispered hotly against her ear and she shivered along his skin prettily for him. "Gods, I bet those half-wits didn't enjoy this half as much as I am." She tensed against him and he could have cursed himself for a fool to have reminded her at such an inopportune moment.

"Don't think of them," he ordered as his hands began kneading her breasts rolling the nipples between his middle fingers and the one closest to his pinkie. Ben'hamin gradually applied more pressure or pulled out against them further until she cried out for him forgetting her attackers. As he cuddled into the skin of her back warming her by his mere presence, he rubbed his dick beneath her down the dry crease.

He was much taller than she was and what he wanted was not going to be found at this angle. "Lean forward; press your hands into the mattress, pet." As she fell forward, his erection slid over wet creases and the nub of nerves that had settled into a dull tight throb again. "Right there, pet. Don't move, Madhya, or I will slip and take your virtue."

The cat snarled in anger at his soft teasing.

Madhya shuddered in fear and held perfectly still as he worked his dick into a slick wetness on all sides also managing to work that bud into a frenzy of need against the ridge of flesh at the head of his dick. Several times, she barely caught herself from rolling her hips and letting him plunge into the aching depths he passed with every movement of his muscular hips. She was breathing hard wanting him so badly she could barely keep her lips from begging him to finish it.

It was not enough. "Do you want me to take you here, Madhya?" His thumb brushed over her cheek and along the crease of her ass in invitation. He stilled his hips to carefully enter the mouth of her heated center until she cried out. It was far from hitting the barrier that blocked his entrance. "Or here?" She shuddered in conflicted thought hesitating in her answer until he drew out and back inside as before. She cried out trembling against him. "Say it, Madhya...Where do you want me?"

"The back...please, Gods, the back," she cried. He met her eyes and there was no fear in them. "I want you there, where your thumb is..." Ben'hamin nodded approving of her choice of wording as he carefully withdrew from her. A rush of hot liquid followed him out draining down him until even the Great War Chief shivered in pleasure from it.

"Good answer, Madhya," he stated nibbling her spine in reward. "One of only two I would have accepted from you." If she had not stated clearly that she wanted him, he would have been angry and punished her for the lapse, but she did it freely and for that she would be well rewarded by him.

Steadying her with the palm of one hand against her supple back, he held the base of his dick in his hand and slowly, oh-so-carefully fed it into the open hole of her ass. She fell to her elbows crying out sharply barely keeping from shoving down over him as he went so slowly.

When his thighs connected with her legs, he let go to flex his hips up further, tighter, and deeper until he was as far as he could go inside of the puckered opening. It squeezed him unbearably tight and he found his breathing had turned erratic shuddering out of his chest only to be sucked back in quickly.

"Oh, Gods, you are tight, Madhya, too tight," he gasped. He curled into her with his eyes pressed shut hard enough to see stars as he resolved to keep his control. He groaned and it turned into a harsh feline growl of possession as his black eyes flashed gold in response to his heightened senses. Ban'hamin knew if anyone had been looking his eyes were that of a golden cat with black flecks mixed liberally within them. His teeth also grew without his consent until he was clamping his teeth down on the metal ring to keep from marking her sweet succulent skin with his fangs.

One shift of her wide hips and he growled low and deadly. It was a warning; it was a claiming sound; it was a dominating growl of complete ownership. She relaxed in his grasp and he moved. She gasped followed by a scream as he plunged back in as deep and as hard as he could grind his hips. He paused to shiver in unprepared pleasure, but his animal side had been unleashed and it cared nothing for the control of the man.

His voice rose in one long unending bout of growls and snarls as he fucked her as hard as he could possibly manage. Her cries spurred him faster and deeper; even though, he had been certain only seconds before that such a thing was impossible.

She crashed over the edge with a strength and suddenness that forced his seed from his body in a burst of heat that he could almost feel entering her and certainly felt himself slide in on the second and third strokes. He released the collar to lick her shoulder almost regretting that he had not marked her as his own in the heat of passion.

Ben'hamin collapsed on top of Madhya body coiled tightly even after the climax. His breathing was shallow, but long and forceful heaves of air. Already he was growing hard as his breathing and hers nudged him against her opening. He swallowed and groaned.

It might have been shorter than he had preferred; however, there was no denying it had been explosive. "Sweet kitten, I think my animal nature approves of my choice this once," he teased. Her face flamed as he muscled her over onto her back without much moving. "How do you feel?"

"Sore and...more sore," she said moving beneath him uncomfortably.

"Not satisfied," he rumbled in complaint. "Well, I think I can solve that." He placed his limp member rather firmly into her front opening.

She stiffened expelling him. He replaced it defiantly. This time it was harder and stayed where he had put it.

"No, please, my lord...I beg you," she whimpered.

He leaned very close to her ear and nipped at it playfully, "Too late, much too late," he whispered. "You are already mine for the taking."

He was growing and he felt the barrier constrict against the head of his dick as he moved gently in her. She seemed to be frozen between sheer terror, anger, and pleasure as his movements rocked him against the swollen knot of nerves.

"You really should have said 'Oh, my...my lord, that was great!' or something along those lines. Now my pride is pricked."

"Something is pricked, but I doubt it is...well, maybe it is your pride," she gasped in a little squeal of pain as the barrier stretched against him painful to both of them, but delicious too.

"Hmm...hush, kitten," he teased gently, "If this is anything like the last time, you will be screaming my name before you are finished!"

She stiffened. "Not likely," she snapped waspishly without thinking first.

"Oh, you little minx," he laughed pulling back as he grew to full size at her goading. "I know you did not just say that!"

Her eyes widened in shocked realization as his hips speared forward tearing deep and hot. Beginning a swift stroking that seared every inch of her inner walls, he used his hands to lift one leg even to his abdomen persuading the other to curl along his leg. His muscled thighs flexed and bunched beneath her skin and she clawed at him!

Ben'hamin heard the loud male protest of a cat and his animal nature responded as it would to the challenge of any feline rival. He growled viciously in warning and his eyes flashed gold with power! "Ben'hamin, say it! Say it," he snarled.

The other male snarled and spit in fury. Ben'hamin's powerful magic rose in his blood stream changing his eyes, teeth and much of his muscle mass.

He grew even more golden as his skin shimmered with silken strands of hair. Ben'hamin's hands burst into longer clawed versions that tried to mimic both of his forms simultaneously. He snarled irritably as enormous wings shot out of his back and his face changed into a beastly parody of a lion-like creature.

That was not all that changed. When his body was in this form, his dick was much longer reaching all of the way to the end of her lithe young channel to strike it hard with every stroke. She bucked beneath him screaming mindlessly, not all of it in pain, but the pain was there in her sweet cries growing with every strike.

His long canines closed over her throat growling threateningly as he drove into her with the force at his disposal moving flesh as far as it could be moved; bruising it to drive deeper to the very bones of her!

"Ben'hamin!" The cat creature stilled eyes flashing as it glanced down at her. The growl gradually faded. Still, he did not move watching her closely.

After what felt like an eternity of watching each other, she moved beneath him restlessly. He swallowed teeth still gripping her throat as he waited.

She moved and he closed his eyes. She moved ever more restlessly causing her slick clutching flesh to slip over him like hot candy. He started to purr, but he still didn't move as she worked herself onto and off of him beneath his hindering weight.

When she could no longer satisfy herself with the slow movements, she growled upset with him. "Ben'hamin, move!"

His purring grew loud and sweet in her ear as he let go of her throat to curl her legs over his upper waist. Ben'hamin carefully worked them into a fast rhythm that didn't hurt her, or leave her unsatisfied with his performance. He showed her how fast a cat man could move in a very precise, controlled rhythm.

She was screaming again in minutes, but it had nothing to do with being painfully overwhelmed, so much as the swift escalation of her body into a shattering orgasm.

This time, he rode through it, past it driving her higher and higher without hesitation, or growing the least bit tired!

"Oh, Gods, Ben...please!" He shuddered and his great, golden cat eyes looked down at her approvingly. It did nothing to stop him as he continued to drive her higher gratifying himself by watching the way she writhed and the tension in that cute kittenish face. "Ben! Ben! Oh, Gods, Ben," she screamed as wave after wave of intense pleasure cut her to the depths of her soul.

Only then, did he allow himself to once more drive deep enough to hit the bones, deep enough to beat himself against a solid wall, deep enough to shatter into a release so powerful his beast roared to the heavens in a voice that held nothing of the man and everything of the mighty king he was...a pand'werain lion king!

The hall had grown silent hours ago. The door to the master's secondary bedchamber with an attached bath swung open silently. Avron slipped out of his room, and down the darkened hallway with a soundless tread of bare feet. He saw the torn dress and glanced at the sealed door curiously.

Avron knew not to approach the door when his master had bid him to bed. He wanted desperately to go to his lord Ben'hamin to curl at his side and sleep, but it was forbidden. Despite the warnings, he was tempted to intrude to see what gift Derix had brought.

Avron was in no mood to be found unfavorable; his cherished war chief might decide to replace him more permanently than one mandated night. So, he crept noiselessly into the hall to view the chaotic disarray left behind by the warlords' festivities.

The remains of the morning's prepared food, mostly meat, littered the long room. Broken crockery, from their beer no doubt, lay empty and strewn about, as well. The cook would be irrationally displeased by the excessive waste after slaving so long to make the meal perfect for the ungrateful beasts.

Avron began to pick up anything left out in the open. It was already spoiled, but as open as these great stone houses were, it would attract undesirable creatures into the house. Avron made no attempt to touch the broken jugs. One sound would wake the slumbering giants and the mere idea sent his sharp eyes looking to see if all were asleep!

Drunken warlords were even more unpredictable than normal ones and he had no wish to see that particular sight ever again. They had been drunk the night he was taken from the slavers. Only Petr and Derix had stopped the senselessness of that one night.

Even grateful to the dark warrior who had led him away to a form of freedom and blissful happiness, Avron refused to look directly at the man, Petr. Of all of the warlords, he was the one he avoided the most. He silently cleaned what he could and made his rounds one last time as close to the men as he dared beginning farthest from Petr. This was the real reason he dared the wrath of the men. He needed to know how their lovers fared!

Avron crept in closer studying the man before him. Dur'dan, chief of the Great Southern Tribe that ruled the very mountains Ben'hamin had been born from. Ben'hamin often remarked that his eyes reminded him of the snow in the mountains. He was the oldest of the warlords, cradling a delicate wife in his arms covered by his cloak to conceal her beauty from everyone in the room.

At his back slept a young boy. The lad looked unharmed and slept peacefully amidst the long, thick blonde mane of his chieftain. There was a look of the woman to his face. Was the boy his son? Had he brought his heir to see the infamous Pand'werain War Chief?

Avron moved to the next sleeping giant far more carefully. His name was Favr'ish, chief of the Lesser Southern Tribe that ruled the dense trees of the Forest Ish'tam. His eyes were the color of those trees, a bright and angry green filled with specks of brown and gray. He was the most ambitious of the warlords, coveting more than he was able to take without angering this council and his king.

He held a sexy siren with her dainty white wrists locked in metal chains. Obviously a recent acquisition, she had bruises on one cheek and around her upper arms. This girl was likely stolen from slavers, if she was one of those rescued from the same skirmish as Ben'hamin's new gift. Her hair was to her knees and as scarlet as a hot flame over Favr'ish's dark bronzed hide and hair. She did not sleep easy, but she also did not twitch with every breath in terror.

Then there was Vir'dasar, the chief of the Far Eastern Tribe that ruled over the Sea of Rashid. Like the sea his eyes were a sparkling blue and his mane a perfect white of the sea foam at high tide. His skin was the perfect pale of an angel, and by far he was the loveliest of the warlords! Still, he was strong enough to win his place on this council by deeds alone. If he was an angel, he was a perilous warrior prince of one. His intelligence alone made him dangerous.

Medr'ainder was the next in line, the chief of the Western borderland Tribes that ruled the edge-land plains. The many tribes had been broken long ago by feuding and unified once more under his brutal embrace. Though he was the cruelest and most vicious warlord, he was third in line for the most powerful. That alone allowed most people to sleep better at night.

He was the darkest of the clan chiefs with his knee-length, black mane and dark copper-colored skin. Medr'ainder's eyes were that of a shiny penny, but his enemies swore they would glow red at night by the light of the fires he started. He ruled with an iron fist!

As expected, the boy in his grasp shivered even his sleep. Avron laid a gentle hand on this boy's shoulder. He knew very well what it felt like to be taken by Medr, without any hope of being rescued. Thankfully, Avron had been saved despite all evidence that he would not ever be happy again. He wished to save this boy, too.

Honey wheat hair on the youth's head had been shorn to the height of his ears. It was an embarrassment to the poor darling who had likely done nothing to deserve it. Oak toned skin ran over thin arms and legs, and the boy's ribs showed clearly down the length of his spine. Was Medr starving him, or had slavers?

The boy looked like he could eat a half-grown child and still not be the size he should be after! It was a disgrace for any warlord chieftain to treat their subjects in such a way! Avron made a mental note to check whether or not the child ate later on when he brought all of them some food.

Quarrel of the Northern Loeb Tribe and Sru'garit of the Northern Surit Tribe were cousins, raised together in much the same fashion as Ben'hamin and Darix. They feuded about everything and swore they could not stand one another, yet teamed up in battle the second they were threatened.

The two were lesser lords, the two weakest here tonight, in fact. That did not mean they were less deadly. These two Pand'werain were designed for stealth and could charm a snake to sleep with their heady words. They were rarely trusted by anyone who knew them, but not many did.

These lords brought a pair of twin females: neither of the two looked ill content to be their lords' chosen ones. In fact, they looked quite satisfied with their place at these powerful, wealthy men's sides. He barely glanced at the two cream color blondes as he studied the warlords and glanced back at Medr's boy in concern.

Derix played with his cherished pet, Lil'mihr as he watched Avron circle the room. He had yellowish-brown skin, a reddened shade of blonde-brown hair liberally dappled with darker black strands, and peaceful red-brown eyes.

Derix always had a ready smile and watchful eyes. He usually chose shadowed corners to lurk in when Ben'hamin was not available. He was the strongest warlord present, defeated only by his War Chief and best friend since early childhood, Ben'hamin himself.

Derix ruled over a tiny island and a small isolated clan that had needed direction, but little in the way of protection. He didn't mind as he rarely strayed from Ben'hamin's side.

Ben'hamin was the only warlord present who had yet to claim a territory of his own. Some people thought it was silly since he ruled them all so easily. Others imagined he had designs on going across the oceans to challenge other kings and choose his people from foreign lands.

Derix didn't care. He would follow his leader into certain death with a roar on his lips, blood on his claws, and death in his eyes...imagining triumph, because they had yet to be defeated...especially when they were together.

Lil'mihr moved in her sleep causing him to look down at her fondly. Her hair was dirty-looking shades of brown-white and gray-white. The pale skin cast a light bluish tinge in the moonlight, a light greenish one now in the yellow light of the torches.

Mihr was a Mermaid who lived near the shores of his island. Derix had caught her sunning her lovely skin on the long, flat rocks beneath this very stronghold. Her eyes were as yellow as the stones wet reflection of sunlight. He didn't love her, yet he was reluctant to give her up.

It nearly drove him crazy to be near her; she was a fish! She made him hunger for much more than simple sex! Yet, he tried desperately to not harm her. It would be so easy to just eat her up during sex one day and keep right on eating.

"Mihr," he called sliding back until she fell gently to her backside beneath his hovering form. Avron stilled hearing his voice. The girl slept soundly. He huffed a little in amusement. Then, he rolled to his feet to stalk the young boy watching him warily.

"Avron, pet...it is dangerous to be up so late. One of our warlords might mistake you for his own in the blur of beer they were in earlier," he teased.

The boy flushed as he moved more carefully away from the male he was near. Derix noticed he paid close attention to the warrior at his feet, only moving his gaze to Derix when he was out of the creature's immediate reach.