Saleena Frost moaned as her long red fingernails dug into her husband's back. She wasn't a violent person, but it felt like a life time of passion was being unleashed at once, and it had no where else to go. It felt like her final night on earth. Her husband proved pliant to her grasp and pressed his body close to hers. Saleena liked the pressure of his powerful, scarred chest upon her breasts. She liked the way they rolled as he thrust himself inside of her.
"Gods yes, Dural! You are so amazing, I love you." Her voice shook with the bed, and with the passion of their love making. It was all true too. She had given up so much to feel this ex-soldier fill her in heart, soul, and loins.
All worth it,
she thought at that moment,
worth it a hundred times.
She loved her powerful man.
Relentlessly driving himself into her, Dural just smiled at his wife and whispered his love into her ear. She moaned back at him, unable to speak.
"Are you ready?" he asked.
It was all she could do to coax her head to nod.
Effortlessly, Dural wrapped his arm behind his wife's back with one arm, lifting her petite body to his massive torso. His left hand grasped the bed post, and supported the weight of both of them. Saleena swooned in his arms, letting her back arch, and her large breasts thrust out towards her husband's face. Unable to resist such a temptation, he dove in, kissing and licking her sharp pink nipples like a ravenous hound.
The woman under him was restless, her body begging for more of his cock. She wrapped her legs around his body, locking her feet and pulling herself into him. In her position Saleena was unable control the sex, but she squirmed anyway, desperate to create some friction. She was about to beg for it when her breathe caught in her throat. Her body tensed, and she let out a loud gasp; her husband was positioned in her most sensitive spot.
This is what he was waiting for. Dural's body became a fury of motion as he fucked into his wife as hard as he could.
"Ohhhh! Gods no!" his wife threw back her head and howled, voice nearly unintelligible. "Too much! It's too much!" Her heart throbbed in its chest and her head rolled back and forth.
Panting, Dural whispered back, "You always fight me. You know you have to surrender."
And so she did. Giving up her will and her control over her own body, Saleena went slack. She just let her husband fuck her, and the intensity of the pleasure rolled over her like a tidal wave. Her body shook and her throat unleashed an unending moan. The waves would ebb, only to rise again with full force. She truly felt that she was drowning, and had to remind herself to breath. Her body was barely willing to listen to her requests. It was heaven.
Seeing his wife in such a state was over-whelming for Dural. Once again he had conquered her body, but this time it was different, more primal. He needed to take her tonight; he felt it in his soul. The feeling was too strong to be lust, desire, or even love. And as his wife clung to him with her long, sexy arms around his neck, he knew that the feeling was mutual. Just as he controlled her body, she controlled his heart. As he continued to thrust into her, he knew that he would give himself only to her for eternity.
He fucked her as hard as he could, sweat dripping from his face into her beautiful cherry hair. She didn't notice. He wanted only to fuck her better, to make her defeated body tremble with more pleasure then she had ever felt. When she opened her eyes to look at him, unfocused and confused, they began to roll back. It was too much. With a guttural moan, Dural slammed his cock as far into her conquered pussy as he could. His entire body seemed to throb as he shot his seed deep in her fertile womb.
Even as Dural rolled off of her, Saleena continued to shake with unrelenting pleasure. It was a long time before she had the presence of mind to roll over, and bury her shoulder into the crook of his arm. She rested her sweet head on his hard chest, and for long minutes they basked in the afterglow.
"I hope you've given me another child, an heir to your family name." Saleena said with a hint of irony in her voice.
Dural chuckled pleasantly, "And an heir to your own, my lady."
Saleena punched him playfully, "I don't need another heir!"
Deep down, she feared she might. Long ago there was a life she had left behind for the life and the love of Dural. If she ever needed to go back, she would have only children who had grown up as farmers, with a soldier father.
"I can't handle another heir!" Dural laughed. Saleena just glared at him until she could no longer keep it up, and smiled. Her husband wrapped her closer into his warm body.
As the laughter died down, the light patter of feet could be heard outside of the door. Dural sighed and Saleena turned a bright shade of crimson.
"Speaking of heirs," he said, "Which one do you think that was?"
Last year, their daughter Shana had reached the tender age of eighteen, and she was now ready to marry. Ever since she had been helplessly love struck with a boy with golden blond hair named Tiran Shamus. They were born on the same day, two years apart, which Shana seemed to think was some sort of mark of destiny. Although he was son of the town mayor, Saleena thought he was an arrogant boy, and a bit of a bully. She remembered being that age though, and knew that sharing her opinion with her daughter would only make her crave him more. Saleena hoped that Shana's heart would be strong when it ended. First loves never last, and she's such a sweet girl.
There was also some concern about what impact her son could have on that doomed relationship. Fallon and Tiran always had a bit of a rivalry going on, even though her son was three years younger then the blond boy. Fallon held his own in their childish games, despite the trouble it caused Saleena. Already he had bragged about kissing many of the girls in the village. Some of the girls protested and called him a liar, others just blushed. He was old enough to make love to a woman, and Saleena suspected he had already become a man. She made a mental note to have a discussion with him.
"Maybe both of them," Saleena said quietly. She worried for her children. Battle was coming on the morrow, and she couldn't shake the feeling that something horrible was going to happen. The Fenal people were renowned for their savagery, and their occult magics. But the scout reported they were few in numbers.
Saleena knew, of course, that her men would prevail. They always had before. Seated at the edge of the Empire, Graesol folk were the hardest around. Further improving their odds, their hundred man militia was supplemented with a hired band of mercenaries, and a platoon of trained soldiers from Capitol. And of course they had Dural Frost, the war-hero in hiding. His greatsword would bathe deep in barbarian blood, and they would fear his new name as they once feared his birth name. A handful of brutes in wolf skin would be no match for such a force.
Still, she felt dread wrap around her like a dark fog in the night. It turned the sheen of sweat covering her body ice cold, and made her nipples rise. She just wanted tomorrow to come and go, and leave her in peace.
*****
Near the gates of the make-shift palisade created around the village, the men trained. Empire soldiers went through a ritualized dance of spears. They were surprisingly nimble in their shining steel breastplates, and every move of each man in the platoon was precise and calculating. As the finished with their spears, the soldiers unsheathed their swords as one, creating a symphony of ringing steel.
In distinct contrast were the mercenary band named "The White Raven". These men and women, came to offer their services shortly after word of the barbarian march began. At the time, they seemed like a godsend: a fighting force with ferocity to match the Fenal. It quickly became obvious though; their passion lay in ale and wine, and not in bloodletting. Half of them seemed to be nursing a hang-over, the other half were mocking the imperials for their pansy fighting style. Loudest was their leader, Hograth, who leaned lazily on his mighty greataxe.
By contrast the militia trained hard. For any outsider, it would be obvious that they were not amateurs. Skirmishes broke out constantly between the frontier village and the barbarian tribes in the hills to the east. The archers were on target with their arrows, and the sword play was quick and dangerous. Dural was training alongside his men, making a graceful display with a sword that seemed impossibly large, even for a man so massive. That the man was able to lift the sword was amazing, seeing him dance and parry with it was awe inspiring.
It was not Dural that Tiran was concerned about. His eyes were focused on the town doctor, Groben. Tiran didn't know what the man's first name was, and he didn't really care. What he did care about was that Groben was training like a good little soldier. It pleased him to see this, because it meant the doctor's wife would be all alone, again. With a grin, he grabbed his hard-on through his pants and began walking to the Groben household.
After three knocks and a few moments the door swung open to reveal a cute little girl of nine or ten. It was Daisy Groben's oldest of five children. Her dirty-blonde waves did not match the dark hair of either her mother or father. Tiran would be surprised if Mr Groben had fathered a single child. He dropped to his haunches and smiled at the girl, who just stared back at him.
"Hi again little Tulip. Is your mommy home?" He did his best to sound sweet.
Tulip nodded and gave him a mean little stare, "She doesn't want to see you!" Her voice was full of anger.
"Didn't I ask you to call me uncle when your daddy isn't around?"
The girl gave a startled look, then huffed and stomped away. Tiran suspected she was getting old enough to have a good idea what her mother gets up to, and she certainly didn't seem to like him. He didn't really care. Maybe one day her mother would explain how Tiran is the best thing to ever happen to her, and she would be pacified. He would eventually marry Shana Frost, he knew. The beautiful young girl was wrapped around his finger, but nothing was going to stop him from having his fun in the meantime.
Forcefully, Tiran knocked on the door to the master bedroom. There was no answer. Uncertain, he knocked again. Still no answer. He pressed his ear up against the door and heard a little squeal of pleasure, or perhaps it was fear. There was really little difference between the two.
Enough of this,
he thought to himself. Taking a step back he kicked at the door.
*****
Daisy Groben would be hard pressed to describe what she felt, locked in her room. Part of her felt like a little white rabbit, with a wild cat clawing at her cage. It was frightening to the point of panic, but it did not over-ride the anxious eroticism she felt. He was coming for her, just like he said he would. And when he arrived, she would be helpless. Whatever the scrawny brat said would be her command, and she would obey. She would not be over-powered; she would not be blackmailed. She was not enthralled with his love-making; many lovers in the past surpassed him in size, stamina, and style. Instead she would submit to him for an entirely different reason which she didn't fully understand: she would prove him right.
All those times he called her a whore while he slapped his cock against her face he was telling the truth. And when he told her he was the best fuck she would ever have it was all true. She was his fuck toy above all others. He could make her do the dirtiest things imaginable. He could take her from her family which she loved. He could make her humiliate her poor loving husband. It was all true, and Daisy loved it.
Still another part of her, beaten and buried deep within her felt disgusted. She remembered what she had done to her husband after Tiran had taken her last time. When it was done she rolled over and pretended to sleep, leaving him hard and gasping for breath. She had not given any love to her husband since the first time she had submitted to the little brat.
