Breaking the Barbarian Ch. 02

With each word her moans and sighs grew louder. My heart pounded, my mind racing with images of all those nuns caressing themselves as they thought of me...

"And when we were through with you, did you pleasure yourself as well, Anvarr?"

"No," I murmured, staring down at the frenzied movements of her fingers. "I was far too spent and exhausted."

She grunted as she briefly slipped two fingers inside herself, before returning to work against her folds.

"Then stroke yourself now," Miriam commanded, her free hand reaching out to grip my chin, forcing me to meet her gaze once more.

Invisible chains took hold of my limbs. I gripped my aching shaft and gave myself a few slow strokes.

Knowing full well she was just going to tease me or command me to stop, I fought the urge to quicken my movements. Staring into those bright blue eyes, I kept my strokes slow and steady.

"Stop," she said.

With a grunt, I forced my hand to a halt.

Miriam's eyes rolled back into her head, as if my compliance had been enough to send her over the edge. Her bare legs rose, wrapping around my waist. Those toned thighs quaked as a string of soft moans filled the smithy. The muscles of her forearm tensed and rippled, her fingers quickening.

The moans ceased, replaced by a low and hungry hiss.

She flopped back onto the bench.

"Good," Miriam said. "You see the wisdom in obedience and surrender. You are a quick study."

Her hand left my chin, reaching down to rub her thumb over the tip of my cock. She collected a single drop of milky pre-cum, then licked her thumb clean.

"Praise be to Saint Morwenna," she murmured, then wiped a strand of dark curly hair from her forehead. "Inside me, Anvarr. Now."

Shaking, I tilted my hips forward and guided my cock to her dripping heat. I had barely pushed in a single inch before she hissed out another command.

"Stop."

My entire body trembled, longing to take the plunge and force my cock deeper into her. Instead I let out a rumbling growl, my muscles thrumming but otherwise holding still.

"One thrust," Miriam purred. "Bury yourself within me. Then stop."

After another deep breath I leaned forward, my hands gripping the bench.

A long, slow thrust sent my shaft deep within her. My powerful hips trembled, though a few deep breaths forestalled my baser urges.

Both of her hands settled on my buttocks.

"Two."

Gods, this was going to be as cruel and unbearable as Catriona's torture...

I rocked my hips back, giving her one deep thrust, then a second. Fire rippled through my arms; my fingers scraped against the bench.

"Three," she hissed. "And then hold still."

Gasp after gasp left my lips as I complied, the bench rocking slightly as I fucked her for precisely three strokes, then stopped. The quaking intensified in my thighs and I bit down on the inside of my cheek to stifle a sob.

Once more Miriam's fingers drifted back between her legs, rubbing and teasing. Her free hand brushed up my torso, her nails occasionally digging in as a spike of bliss went through her body.

Her second climax struck far faster than the first: the nun went rigid, her legs splaying wide, her free hand gripping my throat to brace herself. Grunts turned to whimpers and sobs, before she unleashed another cry that no doubt echoed out beyond the smithy's walls. Her sex clenched around my twitching cock, teasing and tormenting me further.

"Taste me," she said, panting as she raised her fingers from her sex towards my lips.

Moaning, I lapped up the droplets clinging to her fingers. Her hand shifted back to my neck, the nails digging into my skin once more.

"And now take what you need," she cooed. "Hold nothing back. No more games."

By the time that last word had left her lips, my body was already complying. Both hands gripped the far side of the bench and I put my full strength into plowing against her. The bench rocked beneath us both, scraping against the dusty floor. My low growls entwined with her soft sighs and gasps. Her moonlit blue eyes sparkled, her thin lips gaping open again and again.

One hand ran along the rippling muscles of my arms while the other remained upon the side of my neck. Firm legs wrapped around my waist.

My growls turned to needy moans, growing loud enough to drown out her sighs. She encouraged me, murmured my name, even muttered a prayer to Saint Morwenna to bless our coupling. The pressure building within my body was so great that it prevented me from comprehending a damned thing she said.

All that mattered was the storm of need and the warmth of her clenching sex.

Cruel worlds sliced through the tempest.

"Stop," she growled, her nails biting into the side of my neck for emphasis.

Halfway-sheathed inside of her, I sobbed and went still. My sweaty blonde hair dangled past my face, my chest heaving.

"Gods, Miriam, please."

In response, the nun licked her lips, grinned, and rocked her hips a single time.

That was enough.

My broken cry erupted around us. Muttered curses tumbled forth as my shaft pulsed. Even as my seed spurted deep within her, my hips ached with the longing to renew their frenzied thrusts.

But I was nothing if not dutiful and obedient. Even as my nails gouged the bench, even as my backside tensed and my chest heaved, I kept my hips still. My eyes rolled back into my head and Miriam let out a triumphant laugh, both hands gripping my shoulders to steady me.

Through the agonizing length of my climax, Miriam continued to rock her hips, her sex clenching and milking me.

Even once the last of my seed had filled her, Miriam bucked a few more times before finally falling still.

"By the fangs of the gods," I cursed, before sobbing at another little pulse of my shaft.

"Do not invoke your savage foreign gods," she said sternly, raking her nails down my chest. "That is blasphemy, for this was a coupling blessed by Saint Morwenna herself."

"I cannot keep track of all of your Sisterhood's rules. I feel that you nuns just make up new rules to justify punishments."

"Now you're starting to understand the essence of our theology," she purred, squeezing me with her thighs before pushing on my hips.

I slipped out of her and stumbled back a step, before turning and leaning against the bench beside her.

As I panted and recovered my wits, her hands brushed up and down my back. Soft kisses sent little shivers through my muscles.

"In truth, that coupling was the greatest lesson of our theology that I could have given you. The tension, the agony. That terrible but wondrous sensation when your mind fights against your body's needs; within such feelings are fragments of the divine. Glimpses of Saint Morwenna's power and majesty."

I chuckled, still not quite believing in those far-fetched stories, even though I did understand the value the nuns might have drawn from such myths.

"It is fine if you do not believe," she continued. "Whether you do or not is irrelevant. One can still bask in glory even if they do not understand the source of it. Just as a wild beast can enjoy the warmth of a fire without knowing how the fire was made."

After another laugh, I looked over my shoulder.

"So I am a wild beast?"

"Of course you are." She poked at my firm shoulder then ran her fingers through my hair. "Fierce, wild, strong. Untamed and ignorant. But still capable of being trained."

Miriam bit my shoulder.

"Now leave me in peace. I must conduct my evening prayers."

**