Chapter 10 #3
“He’s not my boyfriend. He’s a guy I met when my house burned down and then we ended up on the same ship together by accident.”
“By accident? Or because you stowed away on it?”
“I stowed away because I was angry at my family, not because Thor was on the ship. I didn’t even know he was there until the thing took off and I was sneaking around and saw him.”
Drako smirks. “If I found you hiding away on my ship, I can promise you the consequences would be dire.”
“They were dire. Thor turned me over to the captain when he worked out I didn’t belong on the ship, and that guy beat my ass like I owed him money.”
“Beating you is fun,” Drako admits. “You have a certain kind of personality that lends itself to being punished.”
“Thor thinks I do it for attention,” I say, licking the leaf to get the last dregs of bacon off.
“Maybe,” Drako says. “But in my experience, people like you are born all the time. They’re useful if you can set them to a task that happens to be aligned with the greater good.
And often, they want that task badly. It’s the lack of that purpose that leads them to be chaotic and push against authority.
I don’t think you rebel for attention. I think you do it because you want purpose and safety.
A good leader should be able to give you a sense of both. ”
It’s easier to think of Drako as a big, cruel barbarian from a clan of people who do violent, awful things, than it is to think of him as a sophisticated tactician, but I have to admit his view of me is more nuanced than what Thor’s seems to be.
“For example, your purpose, for the moment, is to stay alive and do as you’re told. The safety comes from knowing you’re not going to be left to your devices. Why were you angry at your family?”
I tell him about my father, how he founded Weltheim City.
I think I see his eyes widen a little at that piece of news, but he doesn’t interrupt me.
I tell him how the old family home had pride of place in the residential district until it burned down and my sisters decided to sell the land, and I felt as though I had nowhere to be and I wanted to fulfill my dream of space travel at all cost.
“And you did that,” he says. “You got your wish, a grand adventure.”
“I could do with it being a little less grand,” I admit.
He reaches for me and pulls me into his arms. He sits back against the cave wall, and I sit in his lap. One arm wraps around my waist, while the other slides between my legs and cups me there. His grip isn’t overtly sexual, but I can feel an instant pulse of heat at my core.
I lean back against his chest, rest my head on his shoulder, and inhale him. He smells like man, meat, and fire. Everything I need.
I feel a slight increase in pressure as he runs his middle finger slowly up and down the seam of my sex. I am still wearing pants, but if anything that makes the sensation better. It is slightly dulled, but quite teasing.
He plays with me like that for a time, and I fall silent as the need to explain myself and the desire to speak turns to other needs.
“You are a lot like the women of my clan,” he says. “I wonder if that is because you were made to be one of us, but happened to be born in the wrong place and at the wrong time.”
“Maybe,” I shrug, giving a slight moan because I cannot help it.
“You feel like you could belong,” he murmurs.
“I could never treat people the way I was treated when you captured me. You’re being civilized now, but… ow!” I gasp as the flat of his palm spanks my pussy through the tight fabric of my leggings.
“You’re not a captor, no, of course not. You were born to be caught,” he says. “That’s why you melt for me so prettily, why you have always been wet for me…”
“That’s just because you’re hot,” I say indignantly. “It’s not because I was made to be a captive.”
He chuckles. “You find me attractive.”
“A brick wall would find you attractive,” I say.
His amusement continues. I stroke his ego while he rubs my pussy. It’s a fair exchange, I think. I am absolutely enjoying every moment of his attentions, and I don’t feel bad about giving him access because he saved my life.
He and Thor are both heroes, even if Thor is being petty at the moment because he’s not getting to be the man of the immediate hour. It must be addictive, saving lives. Maybe one day I’ll have some kind of similar experience.
Doubt it, though. My survival so far has been through dumb luck and somehow being in the right place at the right time.
He thinks I was born to be caught, but I don’t agree with that.
I’ve always made it very hard to catch me.
All the boys who tried to date me when I was a teenager were perpetually and entirely out of luck.
One of them even went on to marry my sister.
I don’t like to say which one, because it upsets her.
We pretend he always liked her first, one of the many little plays my family has been putting on since our father died.
Suddenly, Drako’s palm swats my pussy.
“Ow!”
“Come back to me.”
“I’m here! I haven’t moved.”
“I mean mentally,” he says.
How could he possibly have known my mind was drifting? I am not even facing him. Can he read my mind by touching my pussy? That is a crazy skill if so.
“I don’t even know what that means.”
“I’m taking this off you,” he says. “You’re not paying proper attention.”
I find myself stripped naked and put back into his lap, and his hot fingers go straight back to my pussy, one sliding inside me with a familiar touch. I feel all the muscles inside me tighten around him.
“There you are,” he says. “I can tell when your thoughts drift, because your body stops responding.”
“Oh. That makes sense,” I say, my sentence trailing off in a moan.
He toys with me until I climax, and then he slowly builds me back up to a state of tense arousal again, and he holds me there for what feels like an eternity, his finger circling my clit until I buck and beg for release. I can’t think about anything besides his touch now.
“Do you feel it?”
“Feel what?” I gasp the question.
“Feel the submission flowing through you, taking you down from your imagined heights. You want to come more than you want anything right now, don’t you. You want to feel me take complete control of you and turn your body into a vehicle of perfect pleasure.”
Fuck. Gods. He’s right. This brutal jarl knows exactly how to handle me, how to turn my body against me, how to make me crave his touch, his approval, and his release.
I am held entirely captive in my own flesh while he works me into a squirming frenzy that only ends when he lifts me up and sheathes me on his cock in one long, sure stroke.
“Oh, my gods!” I squeal. The feeling of his hot, bare flesh inside me, stretching me wider than I thought I could go, is absolutely dominating me. He props me on his lap and works me on his cock, pumping his hips up inside me and keeping me still.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” I moan. “Oh, my fucking gods.”
His fingers slide back over my pussy and he starts to strum my already overstimulated clit, forcing me into a writhing climax on his cock.
My pussy grips him hard in undulating motions, milking him right into my bare sex.
This is not good. We should be using protection.
I can’t get pregnant in a world where they have absolutely no prenatal care.
It’s dumb as hell. It is also, in this moment, absolutely all I want.
I want him to come deep inside me. I need him to.
And he gives me everything I need, pulling me down on his cock as far as I can go, delivering his cum to the very entrance of my hungry womb. Our mutual orgasms mix and amplify one another, our bodies squirming and jolting with the aftershocks of our pleasure.
“You feel so good,” he says. “You have an absolutely perfect pussy. Do you know that?”
He’s still inside me, and I can feel him pulsing occasionally, and my pussy answering with a contraction of her own. He has bred me. I know it. I do not know if I will be pregnant, but I know what just happened to me is absolutely a breeding.
I lean my head back and relax on his shoulder, burying my face in his neck as he keeps that thick jarl cock inside me and once again, in a diabolical move, starts very, very gently playing with my clit.
“Not again,” I moan.
“Yes,” he orders softly and tenderly. “Again.”
I have no choice but to do as he tells me, to surrender my clit to his control, and to endure another shivering orgasm that I know will be sucking his seed deep into the very core of my sexual being. His cock remains inside me, staying hard by merit of my squirming.
“Mercy,” I whimper.
“No mercy for the wicked,” Drako murmurs back to me. “No mercy for this sweet, greedy little cunt that loves to come for me. You are going to come again, aren’t you? You’re going to squeeze every drop of cum out of my cock.”
As he speaks, he speaks true.
He slides out of me finally, and he allows my pussy to rest, but I am aching and drenched in cum, and I am drifting in a very pleasant glow that lasts long minutes until my normal senses reassert themselves and I realize how messy and sticky I am.
I need a shower, but there is no shower.
“I am going to wash myself in the spring,” I say, rising from his lap. When my thighs touch, there is a sticky, gripping sensation that makes me feel eager to wash. I know it will dry soon and become, well… best not thought about.
“Not alone, you’re not. If that beast comes back, or another like it, I’ll want to be there to save you.”
“The only way you could save me from something like that would be if you threw yourself into its mouth. The reason we survived the last attack was because it jumped off a cliff. We can’t always rely on scary things to throw themselves off mountains.”
“I’m coming with you,” Drako says.
“I can’t stop you,” I say.
“No,” he agrees. “You can’t.”