A Warrior's Right

As soon as the chilly air kissed her body goosebumps rose all along her fair, supple skin. Her nipples, pale and pink grew more erect than she thought possible and she wasn't certain it was the cold alone that awoke them.

"Control yourself Alren," Dallion hummed playfully. Alren glowered at him with a look that dared him to make a command of him again. The campboy was still so erect Marcyn wondered how he wasn't in pain. She held her husband's eyes, but in truth she was frozen in place by fear. He scanned her body, raking his eyes slowly from her toes to her face. His eyes raked over her full breasts, round and firm, the wide flair of her hips from a waist that seemed impossibly trim for him to have never noticed it beneath her robes. He hummed his approval.

"Sit on the bed," he said. She did as he commanded. "Spread your legs."

She sucked in a breath. He was going to take her. Right here and now in front of this strange man. Her precious chastity was going to ripped from her. She considered fighting, turning and trying to run away. Her eyes darted to the exit, to his pile of weapons. Then Alren looked to Dallion again.

"Come here," he commanded. The young man crawled over, kneeling before the warrior and sucking him off again. Only when Alren's cock was in his mouth did Dallion start touching himself again. Marcyn spread her legs hesitantly.

Alren's eyes, once more hooded with lust, fell on Marcyn's bare cunt. "I saw what you did," he said. Had his voice gotten even lower? "Do it again."

Marcyn didn't want to challenge him again, but truly even she didn't know what she was doing. She put her hand between her legs and brushed her fingers over her mound, the patch of curls there. She didn't dare go further to the seam of her womanhood.

"Lower," he said. He gasped suddenly over whatever Dallion was doing and placed a wide palm on the back of his head.

Marcyn drew her fingers down until they danced of her seam. She felt the moisture there and her cheeks burned. Suddenly Alren stooped and grabbed her by the thighs, forcing her legs farther apart so the pink petals of her sex were exposed fully. The chill air kissed the moisture there and she shivered, though it wasn't just from the cold. Hesitantly, Marcyn slid her fingers down, feeling the area randomly. He watched her intently as she explored herself and the corners of his mouth tugged upwards as she passed over a spot that gave her a jolt of pleasure.

"There," he said as he straightened. She followed the pull of pleasure and circled the spot. She dared apply more pressure and gasped. Her toes curled, she felt that wetness growing. Alren was still watching her, still pleasuring himself with Dallion's mouth. He wasn't going to do more, she realized, at least not as long as she kept following his commands. "Faster," he said. She circled the spot with more fervor, not just because he'd commanded it, but because it felt good. Wonderful. Her body was tingling all over and the more she played with that spot the better it got. When the first moan escaped her lips, she froze.

Alren's head was tipped back as his own pleasure distracted him, but when he opened his eyes and found her hand stilled he looked harshly down at her, though the lust never vacated his stare. "Did I say to stop?" he growled. Gods she didn't think she'd ever be accustomed to the sound of his voice, but right now it was making her body feel liquid. She picked up where she'd left off and didn't try to conceal her sounds of pleasure. When she moaned or mewled it drove him deeper into his own ecstasy and his voice joined her own, alongside the wet sound of her fingers and Dallion's ministrations.

After a while she felt heat overtaking her body, a tingling, glittering feeling of rapture was rising in her core. Her moans grew louder, higher. She wasn't resisting what she felt coming toward her with ferocious speed. Alren suddenly stilled. He growled and sheathed himself deep in Dallion's throat, shuddering with pleasure. She watched in awe as his face contorted, as a flush darkened his swarthy complexion. He was looking directly into her eyes and she knew her own wave was about to crest.

It happened so fast, the ecstasy was racing for her and she was desperate for her. Her hand was a blur between her legs, and she tried desperately for that sublime release of gratification she could sense was moments away. As she was about to meet it Alren dropped Dallion's head and his hand shot out, taking hold of her wrist.

It was like she was snapped out of a trance, her heart was thundering, her eyes searching a world she did not recognize. She was in the tent, her husband before her, his campboy at his feet. The world of rapture that had surrounded her moments ago vanished. It wasn't so far away though; she could still reach it. Her other hand drifted downward, but Alren took that one too. She squirmed a little in desperation, lifting her hips off the bed. Alren's pale brown eyes were scanning her face, quite pleased and no longer that cold, dry, mask of stoicism.

"That's enough instruction," he said, his voice hardly breaking a whisper, "Maybe next time you'll like to participate, hm?" She felt her nakedness then, a sense of shame washing over her. Behind Alren she caught a glimpse of Dallion's face, still dribbled with spittle and sweat and whatever else, but his lips were pressed tight to conceal some kind of smirk or sneer.

"Yes," she said, unsure, "Next time." Her body was still buzzing with pleasure, with an unfilled promise of something incredible. Where was the fear she'd felt when he commanded her to remove her clothes? It was almost preferable to this...this...she didn't know what to call it. Desire? Desperation? She thought of the way he'd been so rough and crude with Dallion and another ember of heat bloomed in her.