A Marq's Woman Ch. 03byKillerRomance©
"Don't," she whispered, but it was no use. Her vision began to blur. She shut her eyes tightly, blocking out the sight of those mesmerizing black eyes. A tiny spasm of shock jolted through her as his lips found hers in a caress as light as a butterflies' wing. Just then, the hand on her bottom moved forward, sliding nearer and nearer to the place where she knew she should never be touched.
"Don't, please," she repeated as he pulled his lips away from hers only to run it over her jawline.
Rade's hand hovered hesitantly over her smooth, soft pussy, her plea causing his touch to falter.
"Why ever not, little one?" he breathed against her ear, his other hand coming up to thread through the silken, golden mass of her curls.
"You know why, sir. I am a servant of the Goddess. I cannot do this. 'Tis a sin," she whispered, her body trembling in fear; the look in his eyes was so intense.
"No, 'tis isn't a sin," Rade said, mirth lacing his words. "There is never sin in pleasure."
With that, his lips swooped down to recapture hers. Kistle struggled briefly against him, her small fists pushing against his broad shoulders, trying to dislodge him from his position above her. But it was no use. She felt like a protesting fly caught in a sticky spider's web.
The hand on her pussy stole up her torso, mapping curves and swells with practiced ease. Kistle barely managed to contain a surprised gasp when his fingers found her petite breasts. The calluses on his palms rasped almost hurtfully against her sensitive flesh, making her squirm and writhe under him. The word 'no' formed on her lips like a chant.
Her eyes were tightly shut, her body unresponsive. Rade felt her resistance like a steel band about her delectable body. He had come to be so used to women quivering and trembling for him that her resolve in resisting him shocked him and pricked at his ego. Who was she to resist him when hordes of others couldn't? A desire-laced anger rose within him and he vowed to himself that he would make her beg him to take her before he finally did.
His lips covered hers again with flinty purpose, his tongue darting out to slip into her mouth, only to find the barricade of her teeth. Unperturbed, his hand rose to her jaw and applied steady pressure on it, knowing that sooner or later, the pain would make her gasp.
Gasp she did and he took the opportunity to slide his tongue into her mouth.
The first taste of her was empoweringly sweet. He nearly trembled from the impact of it. Her essence was something he'd never tasted before -- a mixture of wildflowers and musk that made such potent desire course through his veins. His tongue slipped deeper into the wet cavern of her mouth and he felt her stifle a whimper as his tongue brushed tantalizingly against hers.
Oh Goddess. What was he doing to her? She couldn't breathe, she couldn't think. He was robbing her of all thought, all resistance. At the back of her mind, a nagging voice reminded her that she needed to fight him and protect her virtue. But it was just a small nagging voice and it faded away as his palms cupped her pouting breasts.
She was lost. All reason for resistance fled her mind as he palmed her breasts, massaging and stroking the now-needy mounds with his fingers. It was a betrayal of the body, how it responded so wantonly to a man's touches, but Kistle was powerless to restrain him. Her breath hitched in her throat as he lightly tweaked her throbbing nipples.
Goddess, no one had touched her like that before. It was heaven. It was hell. It was a sin. But it just felt so good! Her only point of consolation was the fact that he wouldn't stop touching her even if she begged it to be so. It surely wouldn't be her fault that she was taken by this man if she didn't have a choice to it, would it? His tongue brushed her nipple and Kistle let out a low moan, feeling all discomforting thoughts drain out of her. She arched against his fingers, feeling the pull of his magical touch in her soul.
'Oh, yes,' Rade thought as he felt her small body buck against his touch. Her resistance was melting and he could feel it. The refutations on her lips faded and replacing them were the most sexy little moans that he'd ever heard in his life. Those moans were the catalyst that made him lean down and suckle her golden nipples and caress her exquisitely rounded bottom. Those moans were the matches that lit the torch in his blood. Those moans were the ones that made his breath hitch from the mere thought of entering her supple body.
Kistle threaded her fingers into his hair, anchoring his head to her now-throbbing breasts. A need in her spread through her body like a wildfire and she knew not how it could be quelled. There was a pool of wetness growing between her splayed legs as well, and she had no idea on earth as to where it came from.
Abruptly, the dark man pinched her nipple and she squeaked in pleasure and in pain. Her breath came in short little pants as she watched him make the descent from her breasts to her sex. His dark eyes never left hers as he bit then gently sucked on the fold of skin below her navel. Kistle watched, mesmerized, as his face lowered to her secret place.
"It looks like you have enjoyed my attentions more than you were letting on, little one," Rade chuckled as he saw how her wetness had created a wet spot on the sheets below her. The breath of his laughter tickled the strip of beguiling golden hair adorning her dusky flesh. Unable to withstand its mesmeric charm, Rade sifted his fingers adoringly through the curls, just as his mouth came to rest on the V of her weeping slit.
"Not there! Surely... you don't mean to... Oh!" Kistle entreated him with her hoarse cries. Embarrassment had come first when he'd so intimately kissed her. But desire flooded her next, when his tongue had flicked over a sensitive spot on her flesh. She had no idea what he was doing to her, but it felt exquisite. His broad hand was splayed over her stomach, holding her down as he feasted on her incomparable juices. Kistle's eyes were fastened on the sight of him kneeling between her legs and lapping at her with much fervor. The sight stirred something low in her abdomen and she let her head fall back onto the pillows. One of her small hands came to rest over the broad one that was lying against her stomach.
Her scent was pushing him beyond control. The way she rotated her hips hesitantly upon his lips made him think of nothing but the way she would push herself on his shaft when he finally plundered the apex between her soft thighs. The erection in his breeches was deliciously painful as he knelt over her, devouring her with his tongue.
He traced the outline of her quivering lips with the tip of his tongue, feeling her fidget under the slightly ticklish gesture. Then, almost unexpectedly, he plunged his tongue deeply into her and pulled out in the same second. He heard her cry of acute pleasure and agony but kept his laugh of triumph to himself. Over and over he licked at her, until her fingers had curled around his wrist where it lay on her stomach and her whimpers were begging him to end his torture.
He rose over her then, his knees parting her thighs to accommodate his girth. Rade shivered slightly as the warmth of her pussy enfolded the tip of his cock. He braced himself on his hands, his mouth scant inches away from hers.
"Do you want me inside you now, little one? Will you deny me?" he asked as he rotated his hips upon her weeping flesh.
His words were like a bucket of cold water across her face. The desire in her veins faded as she took in the aroused features of her captor. Oh, dear Goddess. What had she done? Tears of shame that she couldn't hold back welled in her eyes as she felt him enter her a little more, his thickness rigid against her malleable flesh.
She had shamed herself. How could she have let him take advantage of her like this? It was forbidden! She should've controlled herself more. She never should have responded to his touches! Goddess help her, she was a ruined woman; she would never be able to serve the Chapel again.
A dewy teardrop seeped out from between the confines of Kistle's golden lashes and she turned her face away, unwilling to let her captor see her shame.
But Rade had already caught the defeated look in her eyes. Something in his heart had twanged to see how distraught she looked even as her body welcomed him, or perhaps because her body welcomed him.
"Why do you cry?" he asked, trying to ignore the fact that he was partially lodged in her wet heat.
"It is not something you would understand," came the whispered reply.
"I understand your body, little one. I will understand your mind, too."
Kistle opened her damp eyes to look squarely at Rade. He had beads of sweat embellishing his forehead.
"Sir, I am a servant of the Goddess. It is written in the scrolls that if I were to be with a man, I would not be able to serve Her any longer."
Rade shook his head and smiled at her, knowing that he had an answer to her problem. He leaned down and put his lips to hers and felt her jolt at the simple touch. The jolt had her pussy muscles clenching around him and he couldn't bite back the groan of need that erupted from his throat. Unable to restrain himself any longer, he thrust into her heat, cleaving the expectant barrier of her innocence. He said a few words in Hersan to quell her pain and then began to move within her. He couldn't stop himself even if it was an order from the Gods.
"Oh! No, stop! Stop!" Kistle whimpered, but it was no use. His flesh was ripping into her body, filling her to bursting. A virgin's fear and something exciting built in the pit of her stomach. She watched the features of the man poised above her as he plundered her sex. His features were contorted with the pleasure that he was receiving and the thought of him taking his pleasure from her body sent a tingle of something foreign through her. And when his fingers came up to roughly caress her pulsing nipple, she felt a sweet pain throb through her body.
Somehow, she began to move with him, hesitantly at first, but found that the way he thrust against her, had him brushing against the sensitive spot on her skin. The ecstasy that she gained at this was spell-binding and she couldn't help but flick her hips against him faster and faster. Rade's hands slipped under her buttocks and raised her up to meet his every thrust.
He drove into her deeply, feeling the way she yielded against him. Her surrender felt so saccharine. And when her small fists came up to curl about his shoulders, he felt like exploding into her hot sheath right then.
Kistle was lost to the myriad of sensations that he was awakening in her. She forgot all her fears, all her doubts, all her shame. All that mattered was his body and hers and the sensations that were spurting through her blood.
They moved in a dance as old as time, both panting heavily from their exertions as they strove for the ecstasy that they knew was close at hand. Rade's fingers curled into her golden tresses as he held her head back and kissed her neck. The sounds of her moans reverberated against his lips and he trembled against her. His thrusts grew wilder, harder, deeper and more hurried to reach that pinnacle of a climax.
Kistle answered his thrusts with eager abandon. Her moans turned to loud screams as he plunged exceedingly deep inside her, making her come apart beneath his hands. Rade covered his lips with hers to savour the sound of her satisfaction as she bucked wildly against him, her juices coating his cock, her muscles contracting around him.
Her orgasm was his undoing. He came inside her with one final thrust, his seed spurting hot and endlessly into her womb. Again, he felt the similar pang in his chest and wondered where it had come from.
When he was finally able to summon the energy to open his eyes, he found that he was lying half atop the little one, breathing into her neck. She was as breathless as he was, her soft rasp of breaths, soft against his ear.
He turned her face towards him and pressed a soft kiss to her lips.
"You have pleased me," he said. "From now on, you are to forget about serving your Goddess. You are to serve me. Only me. Do you understand?"
Kistle nodded weakly, fearing to cross the possessive heat in his eyes. She watched as he mouthed a few words in an unknown language and the wetness between her legs dried up in an instant. She looked at him quizzically and made to question him, but he placed his index finger over her lips. A blush stole up her cheeks when she smelled what must be herself on his finger.
"Sleep, little one. Sleep," he said.
And yet again, she was powerless to disobey him.
"I worry about Sister Kistle."
Tyson looked over at his lover, bemused.
"Ginny, sweetheart, if you're going to tell me that you've been lying beside me all this while thinking about some girl, I swear I'm going to paddle your bottom," he threatened, his fingers tightening precariously on her bottom. He chuckled softly when Ginny jerked against him in shock.
"That isn't funny, arhan," she chided, her petite hand swatting his away. Ty's heart skipped a beat when she called him 'brother' again. She couldn't possibly still think of him as her brother, not after what they'd done. In fact, he reasoned that she had uttered the word more out of habit than to remind him of his sin, and for that, he was willing to let her misstep pass.
"Well, it is to me. I'd yet to get my breath back from loving you and you're already thinking about someone else!"
She sighed. "It's not that, Ty. It's just that Kistle means a lot to me and she's lived a very sheltered life. She knows nothing about men. And that giant who took her away..." Ginny shuddered.
Ty kissed the pink lips that had turned into a pretty moue of worry.
"Don't worry, shaz'ra," he soothed, his fingers moving over her plump cheeks in a silken caress. "Rade is a very gentle lover. I have no doubt that he'll make Kistle's loving a pleasurable one."
"I guess," she sighed. "I just hope she's all right. I'm missing her already. She was the only real friend that I had and I just can't bear the thought of her hurting..."
Tyson watched as Ginny's eyes filled with tears. A stab of pain seared his heart as she tucked her head against his shoulder. He could feel the wetness of her tears on his skin. He closed his eyes for a moment, fighting his own demons at that moment. The only other time he'd seen her cry was the day that he'd left home. And seeing her tears again made him feel like his heart was being ripped apart – again.
"Hush, Ginny. You know I could never stand to see you cry. I'd rather die a thousand deaths than have you cry," he murmured hoarsely.
Ginny raised her tear-streaked face to his, noticing the wealth of emotion in his features. It touched her that he could not bear to see her in pain. She lowered her lips to press a rather wet kiss to his lips.
"I'm sorry, arhan. I just wish I could know that she's all right..."
"Say no more, love," Ty said. "I'll find a way."
A twinkle re-appeared in his eyes when he noticed that Ginny was staring unblinkingly at the lips she'd just kissed.
"Mmmm," was the only thing she managed to say when he leaned over and slanted his lips over hers.
Good fucking hell.
They were re-building their army.
Rade could sense it in his bones. A frown of deep concentration etched seams in his brow as he tried to decipher more of the vision that loomed before him.
There were men dressed in steel armour surrounding the stout Kieranian king. The lecher was waving his fists in the air, addressing the crowd with a fervour that belied his size. Rade couldn't work out what the king was saying – everything was black and white – but he could feel the vibes of national pride that rose from the men around the king.
Abruptly, a heartbeat later, the gathered men roared and Rade's vision came to life; vivid colours danced before his eyes. It was like he was amongst the Kieranian soldiers, a part of them as they gathered in the courtyard, listening to the king's speech. He could feel the armour rasp against his skin and a fury ebbing inside him. Thoughts of rebellion flashed through his mind. The Marq's tyranny should be obliterated.
"How can we let them besiege our country? Have we no men to fight for us? Have we no pride? No shame?" Jisisle's voice boomed over the crowd.
The men in front of him jeered. Rade's lips, as he lay on the bed, twisted into a scowl. Rade, as he was in the vision, let out a low howl of disapproval.
"Will you fight for us, loyal men?" the king queried.
The crowd roared its assent. Jisisle beamed. Rade fumed.
How dare the old snit prepare for battle against the Marq men? The Kieranians would never survive! Their numbers were too small. What idiot would allow his soldiers to--
Rade jolted awake as a small fist hit him on the nose. The blessedly clear vision in front of his eyes wavered and faded away, leaving nothing but darkness in its wake. Another punch found its way to his shoulder and he grunted, turning over to hold the squirming little one away from his body.
It took him a moment to realize that she wasn't hitting him deliberately but was lashing out in a dream, a nightmare. Her fists and legs flailed out around her and she was crying.
"Please, Mother. Please! I promise to be a good girl. Please!" he heard. "I'll never go to the gardens again! Please, Mother! Not the cellar! No! It's so dark, it's so dark..."
Rade intertwined himself with her nightmare and snipped the remnants of it away, leaving a panting and weeping woman in his arms. Instant worry for her flooded him, making his vision seem unimportant. Little one was shivering violently and she probably couldn't get enough oxygen into her lungs by the way she was hiccupping. Rade shook her by the shoulders, trying to make her snap out of her daze of semi-consciousness.
Kistle eyes fluttered open to full darkness, panic clawing its way up to her throat. She couldn't breathe. The shadows were closing in around her. Oh Goddess, help her! Just as she felt the comfort of a swoon envelop her, a bright light flared above her head and she was forced back to consciousness. She blinked several times before the chamber came into focus and it was moments later when she could settle her fitful breathing.
"What happened, little one?" a silken voice beside her asked.
Kistle gasped and turned, for she had forgotten where she was and who she was with. Her only thought had been of the cellar, the pain, and the darkness.
"It's nothing," she blurted, suddenly a little shy of her outburst. Sister Ginny had always complained that Kistle thrashed about in bed and cried out in her sleep at night, but it hadn't seemed important then. She, however, was in a different situation now.
"Tell me," the voice coaxed.
Kistle turned towards him, her eyes self-consciously averted. She was aware that he was looking at her curiously and she was afraid that if she told him about her childhood fear, he would think that she had a disposition of a little girl.
A warm hand traced the curve of her shoulder and Kistle shivered involuntarily. Her eyes met his and for the love of the Goddess, she couldn't look away. Words that she thought she'd never tell anyone formed on her lips.
"I'm afraid of the dark, sir. Mother Agnetta used to discipline me by locking me away in the cellar after punishing me. It would be very frightening, sitting there all alone. I've developed a fear." The last sentence was a mere whisper.
Rade intruded upon the image in her mind and he could see the young girl cowering in the corner of a dingy room. She was crying, her little hands curled about her knees protectively. Again, he felt something give within him at the pitiful sight. Unbeknownst to him, his hands enveloped Kistle's body as he shared the memory of her childhood with her.