Captured Ch. 04

Thoran chose not to answer, but joined her on the bed. Sirah stiffened with fear as he slowly crawled over her, dwarfing her small frame. She held her breath, fearing one wrong move, one slip and he might crush her by accident.

Thoran's large, warm hand smoothed over her shoulder and searched down her back, settling her nervously twitching wings. His other hand traced the gleaming blue edge of her dress, and began to peel it down.

"Thoran!" she gasped, seizing his wrist. "What...why?"

"I want to see you," he murmured, hungrily watching her breasts peep into view.

Sirah fretfully tried to cover herself, but couldn't deny his proximity was pleasant, that she wanted more. But she was embarrassed to be exposed for the first time. Thoran had certainly inspected her lower area, but he had not perused all of her. And now he seemed determined she bare everything to him.

"Would you prefer I undress first?" he whispered, kissing her jaw. Gently placing his hand on her soft, perfectly-rounded breast, he felt her heart leap under his palm.

Sirah's eyes were wide and startled, but not afraid like the first time he tried to take her. Thoran licked his lips at her lovely, innocent pout, before giving in. Sirah sighed against his mouth, her lips parted without prompt to let his tongue tease her. Thoran continued for a time, all the while gently edging her dress lower until it gathered about her mid-section.

So carried away with his intimate attention, Sirah hardly noticed she was now half naked, until he pressed his chest closer and she felt the heat of his bare skin stimulate her rosy, untouched nipples.

"Oh...I..." Sirah panted, but Thoran captured her mouth again, feeling her energy lift with giddy excitement.

"Tell me you want me to take you, Sirah," he demanded huskily, moving his hand lower to tug her dress up her smooth thighs.

"I want you to take me," she answered in a hushed whisper.

Thoran groaned, reaching between them to release his straining cock from his pants. As it sprung free, Sirah curiously glanced between them and immediately regretted it. The member appeared excessively, terrifyingly thick and long. Certainly too large for her; too large for anyone.

"Wait! I can't!" She squeaked, straining away as he pressed closer. "No, Thoran! Stop! I can't!"

"You can. Shh," he breathed, closing his eyes. Concentrating, he tried to contain her nervous tension, to soothe her building panic. "I won't hurt you, Sirah. Trust me."

"No! Thoran, please!" she begged, genuinely fearing for her life. The rumours of demons taking females and releasing them alive had to be terrible falsehoods. Thoran would split her in two. Bound or not, he was going to kill her.

"Sirah. Trust me."

"But...But..." Somewhat calmed by Thoran's reassurance, Sirah kept her frightened gaze averted from that fearsome part of him, but could not forget what she saw.

Thoran could taste her frantic emotion, dancing sporadically along his tongue like tiny spikes. Exhaling heavily, he considered his lure. It was, after all, what made females accept and encourage demons.

Guessing his thoughts, Sirah shook her head with a shaky sigh. "I don't want the lure. Not now, Thoran. If you say you won't hurt me-"

"I would never hurt you, Sirah. Do you trust me?"

"Yes," she whimpered.

"Hmm," he replied doubtfully, and withdrew down her body.

Sirah gasped when the dress hitched up her hips. It settled like a shimmering blue band across her midsection, and but for that, she was naked. Thoran spread her legs and his tongue teased, tasted, then delved into her. It felt surreally wonderful, and Sirah arched and bucked against his face.

Thoran chuckled, and his amusement reverberated within her. Sirah realised his tongue was deep inside her, almost impossibly deep. Afraid to look, she imagined his tongue lengthened and forked, tickling untouched sensitive areas to drive her insane with lust.

"Oh, Thoran, why did we not do this sooner?" Sirah moaned, forgetting all demure uncertainty and reservations about his size. She gasped when his tongue slowly slid out of her, and his lips warmly caressed her trembling inner thigh.

"Because I had an obligation to see to," he murmured. "Now, you have seen your father, there is nothing to distract from our desires. Believe me, the delay was no easy feat."

This explanation suited Sirah perfectly. With parted thighs, she tentatively invited him to take her. Thoran immediately lowered himself between her legs, careful not to crush her.

Her breasts were as he knew they would be - full, deliciously rounded, her skin like warm silk to touch. Sirah stared at him bewilderedly, but without any reluctance or regret.

Thoran couldn't resist bending to taste her flesh; coveted flesh that he knew no other had the daring or privilege to access. Even more tempting was her gasp, or possibly whimper, as he ran his tongue around each nipple until they stood alert to his attentions. Then he moved forward so the stiffened peaks exquisitely grazed his broad chest.

Finally, at last, his throbbing member found and pushed against Sirah's wet entrance. Gasping delightedly from the stimulating contact, she nodded encouragement. Thoran held her gaze and angled his head, warning her to be patient, and slid a further two inches.

Sirah moaned with bliss, and Thoran felt his throbbing tip press against the wall of her virginity. Taking a deep breath, he gently eased forward and the barrier gave. Sirah shrieked and gripped his arms, her nails digging into his skin in marks of desperation that would bruise a day or so.

Thoran immediately stilled, watching her closely, feeling her tight walls tremble and pulse exquisitely around him. Sirah's brilliant eyes were snapped closed, her face flushed with heated discomfort. Still, she didn't refuse him or beg for reprieve, his lure. Shaking with the urge to continue, impatience tugged at Thoran.

"Sirah, my lure - do you need it?"

Face drawn with pain, she briskly shook her head. It was her first time, their first time, the most important time. Perhaps in future they could toy with alternatives, but Sirah wanted him to take her as he was.

"You're in pain," Thoran ground out, fighting to curb his lust as he watched tears drip from the corners of his mate's closed eyes. It was true he would not hurt her, but the stilted pace was beginning to take its toll. "This is not how I would-!"

"I am not a tender, mortal virgin, Thoran," Sirah hissed through clenched teeth, breathing raggedly with exertion. "For this time, I will take you as you are. I insist upon it."

Thoran scrutinized her innocent, perspiring face, strained with pained desire. When she opened her eyes, the fear and determination mingling in her gaze stoked the fire within Thoran. His mate was overtaken by a primal, wild lust that momentarily buried her tentative, apprehensive demeanour. He beheld so many fascinating facets to Sirah's character. She was perfect. She was his.

Thoran's eyes burned with an unknown passion from her words, her acceptance of him. She stood by his side and dared interject an argument between demons, in his favour. And now she denied a comfort that would shield her from pain, because she wanted to experience him, without illusion. They were truly destined for each other.

Finally, the pain began to wear off. New pleasure trickled from Sirah's core to her extremities, increasing with Thoran's gentle movement as he slightly withdrew and re-entered her. Now, the way her body stretched accommodatingly around him turned pleasant. Sirah knew this was how it should be. Raw, powerful, and compelling. But she had not yet taken all of him.

Sirah cried out and clenched as his length trespassed further inside her. Unknowingly and without warning, she actively released her own lure, never before applied or known to exist. It crashed over Thoran with a shocking yearning that had him fighting for control.

"S-Sirah!" he gasped, taken completely off guard. "Sirah, withhold!"

"What?" she sighed distractedly, now actively moving against him. Delight and something else, supremacy, coiled about her torso. It felt foreign and wonderful. An empowering indulgence she never imagined she might experience.

Thoran grunted and arched above her, struggling with strange energy encompassing him. Forcing his eyes open, he stared down at his happily writhing mate.

"Sirah, withhold!" he groaned. But she didn't listen, and the waves of crippling pleasure continued to reverberate through him.

Closing his eyes Thoran fiercely concentrated. It was difficult, but he tuned into the energies encircling them.

Sirah suddenly whimpered as the invisible collar manifested about her neck and lightly constricted, stifling her lure. Dazed and confused, she relaxed, still panting. When her eyes fluttered open they clashed with Thoran's glare. He looked exasperated with her.

"Be still!" he breathlessly ordered. His lips seared her neck and jawline with delicious kisses and he cautiously released his own lure. "Be still.."

Thoran exhaled with relief as Sirah's harsh, incapacitating lure ebbed from his limbs, and gently increased application of his own. A lure was pleasure, but foremost a weapon, and clearly Sirah needed to learn how to use it.

Sudden, blissful sensations flowed through Sirah. She nodded deliriously, caught up with Thoran's wonderful lure, taking her enjoyment to an impossible height. "Yes, Master!"

Thoran moaned at her delectable words, feeling himself stiffen inside her as his pleasure peaked in a way he'd never felt with any creature before her. He slowly withdrew, and re-entered, feeling her stretch to an unaccustomed girth that she now embraced. But despite taking rare delight in her body, ultimately her sweet voice that stoked the fire inside him.

"Again, little one."

"Yes, Master!" she gasped, wrapping her legs about Thoran's waist as he began to rhythmically move inside her.

It hurt, but the pain was mild and mostly gratifying. Just like Thoran decreed -- she never wanted it to end. He was beautiful to behold, his toned, rippling body above her, those sultry dark eyes locked on her face as he rolled his hips and rocked her toward unimaginable levels of ecstasy.

Had Sirah known such sensations existed, she would have run away long ago to seek him out. Likewise, Thoran marvelled his acquisition and how incredible the union felt, never before so affected by the reaction of a female to his intimacy.

"Again!" he hoarsely demanded.

"Yes, Master!" she moaned, now delighting in his size and bucking to meet his hard thrusts.

"Uhhh-!" Thoran grunted, losing composure for the first time to memory. "Sirah...!"

"Yes, Master! Take me! Take me!"

Thoran groaned and drove forward as Sirah cried out and arched against him. In the throes of a climax she unwittingly clawed his unmovable thick arms, and Thoran relished in it, imagining he might be marked for days.

On that thrilling notion, he erupted inside Sirah, filling her with hot seed. Buried to the hilt, he came to a standstill, his chest shuddering with sated bliss. Snugly sheathed within her newly used walls, they gripped his girth like a soft, wet vice.

In a flash of a memory Thoran saw the nymph envoys trading the priceless orb for their princess, and knew he'd decline all the orbs of the world rather than lose Sirah.

'What will come of this?' he silently wondered. Sirah's virginal tightness continued to tremor, lightly squeezing his thick length relaxing within her.

"I don't know..." Sirah answered in a dazed whisper.

Thoran froze, realising she read his thought. Then he carefully rolled onto his back, with her atop him, still joined together. Drawing a smooth blanket over them, Thoran stroked Sirah's lustrous hair as her breathing steadied. Recalling the powerful, incapacitating lure she unleashed on him, a compelling force he'd never experienced, Thoran remembered one of Devan's first warnings.

'She could become very powerful. Dangerously so.'

Thoran dismissed the caution. He was Sirah's master, the binding decreed it and she acknowledged it. With a small smile, Thoran remembered her eager words, uttered in the throes of passion.

"Sirah, are you hurt?" he quietly asked.

Silence answered him, and Thoran realised his mate was deeply asleep, with him still tightly embedded inside her.

"Our union is the beginning of something wonderful," he solemnly promised, trailing a finger down her smooth cheek, his austerity fading to affection as he heard her gentle snore.

Thoran hoarsely chuckled and softly kissed the top of Sirah's head. Her pretty wings contentedly fluttered, and Thoran gently traced their delicate, paper-thin texture with his fingertips. In response to his touch, they tremored delightedly, and Thoran anticipated he would spend many hours caressing the fluid sheets of rainbow. Never had Thoran such beauty within reach. And now she belonged to him.

Thoran took a moment to breathe the refreshing scent of Sirah's blonde tresses, now mingled with his own essence, and closed his eyes.

*****

Two naked demons sat quietly before a large fire. Though one's dark hair was cropped short like Thoran's, his companion's lengthier black locks were carelessly bound at the back of his neck to flow midway down his muscular bare back. As the rest of their kind, they were remarkably handsome. Tareg, the short-haired demon, had stronger, more broodingly masculine features than his blood-brother, Marun.

Marun was more elegantly attractive, with soulful light-brown eyes that belied the vicious nature within. Comparatively, Tareg was physically formed as a great warrior, where Marun was oft mistaken for a powerful noble. The differences mattered little when their lures were in play.

The demon's conversation quickly ended as the fire before them seemed to retreat within itself, before exploding into a fiercer blaze than they'd prepared for. They stared speechlessly at each other, both experiencing the same strange sensation through the chest. Though neither had felt it before, the cause was well-known.

Marun slowly shook his head. "Impossible."

"And yet, it is." Confusion showed in Tareg's black eyes. "But why? He never cared for power or alliance. He chose exile."

"Perhaps he wants to battle?" Marun said thoughtfully.

"Thoran hated war. He would not return without joining us first."

"Then to consider a binding, the female must be exceptional," Marun mused.

"She'll be no field troll, for sure," Tareg chuckled.

"Perhaps he fell in love?" Marun suggested, and Thoran's blood-brothers indulged in a bout of harsh laughter.

The edges of Tareg's mouth turned up mischievously. "I admit I am curious. Thoran guards his privacy."

"He forfeited that right with the binding. He has chosen a mate. You know what that means. Should the need arise..."

"We are compelled to protect her," Tareg slowly finished Marun's sentence, his black eyes thoughtful.

"Come." Marun had risen and stood ready to travel. "We must meet our new sister."