Indian WinterChapter 12
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The pain was almost more than she could stand, but Anya kept going. Her mind was locked on one thing, the relief she would find when she slid into the pond with its cool water. There were willow trees that hung close to the pond, from them she would gather bark and have Sonya brew it into a tea for her. It would help with the pain. She would have to keep moving though, if she wanted to avoid the stiffness that would have her walking like an old woman.
Concentrating upon putting one foot in front of the other, she didn’t see the prints in the soft ground of the trail, prints made by horse hoofs. If she had, she might have changed her mind about the pond and gone back to the castle.
The clearing was as beautiful as always, flowers blooming and lending their scents to the soft night air. The pond was so still, not a ripple of water disturbed its mirror-like surface. She made her way slowly to the edge and leaned over, staring at her reflection. She looked like a harpy or some other mythical harridan, with her hair stiffened with blood and sticking out from her head. Her eyes were too large in her pale face and a trail of dried blood marred her chin and trickled from the split in her torn lip.
She pulled at the buttons on the shirt, forcing them open and pulling the shirt off from where it had stuck to her back. Her breath hissed between lips clamped shut from pain but she finally had it off. The pants were easier though blood had dried on the back waistband, leaving the material stiff and sticky. She slid the shoes off, glad that Sonya had given her a pair of her slippers instead of the boots she usually wore with this outfit.
Naked, she crept hunched over toward the pond once more, slipping her foot into the water and shivering a bit at the touch. It would grow warm quickly, the temperature warm from the heat of the sun, she knew for she came here often. The pond had a soft, sandy bottom and she waded out to where she knew the drop-off was. The water was lapping at her waist when she reached it and she took the final step that would send her down into the black depths where the water was well over her head.
She stayed there until her lungs felt as if they would burst, wishing as she always did that she could find a way to grow gills and maybe a tail like the stories her mother used to tell her of beautiful mermaids. She would swim far from this castle and her father, not stopping until she thought she was safe. Then she would sun herself upon a rock, brushing out her long hair and whiling away her days with playing in the waves.
No more duties, no more pain, no more of her father, what more could she wish for?
She could see the moon above her as she kicked toward the surface. It was as if it was waiting for her. Breaking the surface of the water, she sighed in relief as the pain ebbed.
‘Is that truly what you wish for?’
Anya screeched, turning in the water until she saw the being who’d asked the question. ‘Who are you?’ she gasped.
The creature was small, not much bigger than a child barely able to walk. But he was no child. He was well made, slim hipped and wide in the shoulders with a handsome face and a head of hair that any woman would pine for.
Honey blonde, it swirled around him as he moved, held from his face by braids that were decorated with colored beads. A mustache graced his upper lip and his ears were pointed
‘My name is Switch,’ he said, bowing until his braids almost touched the ground. ‘I can grant your wish if that is truly what you want.’
‘My wish…what wish?’ Anya asked, bemused by the small man.
‘To turn your legs to tail and give you fins, to let you swim ’til land’s end,’ he said in a sing-song voice.
‘I am to believe that you hold that kind of power?’ she asked, narrowing her eyes as the little man stepped close to her clothes, lifting the shirt and inspecting her blood upon it.
‘Oh yes I do, I do indeed,’ Switch said. ‘But how to prove to you that I am what I say?’ He tapped his lip with his finger looking very serious. Then he smiled. ‘Turn your back to me, little miss, and I will show you my power.’
Anya turned slowly, intrigued despite herself. The little man came closer to the pool’s edge, bending and touching the water while mumbling some words that Anya couldn’t hear. A soothing feeling came over her and the pain in her back stopped. She turned her head, amazed, staring down at what skin of her back that she could see. Her eyes rose from her unblemished skin. Even the old scars and welts were gone as if they’d never been there.
‘What did you do?’ she asked, amazed at the absolutely freeing way it felt to be without the pain her father enjoyed inflicting.
‘I took away your pain so that you might better understand my magick,’ Switch said with a bow that had his long golden hair sweeping over the wide-bladed grass. ‘As for your other wish, to become like those who live their lives under the sea, you must be certain that this is truly what you want.’
‘If it is to be a choice of dealing with my father’s perversions and his beatings or giving up my legs to live freely in the sea, there isn’t much of a choice to be made. If I could have my presence wiped from the minds of those here, I would gladly face having a tail.’
‘I must tell you,’ Switch began, only to be cut off by the sound of hoof beats coming ever closer. ‘If it is still your wish upon the morrow, come to the clearing when the moon stands full above you. I shall be waiting.’ He dipped another bow and then spun so quickly, her eyes couldn’t follow his movements. With a tiny puff of smoke, he was gone as if he’d never been.
‘What ho?’ a voice called. Anya spun, sinking back into the water and trying to hide her nakedness. ‘Who are you girl?’
The man sat upon his horse as if he were a part of it, easily calming the fidgeting beast while his eyes stayed upon the water nymph he’d discovered.
The sweet little water sprite was immersed in the water up to her neck, he couldn’t help the sudden rippling of arousal that had his cock twitching under his codpiece. ‘Well,’ he growled, easily stepping down from the huge horse and throwing his reins over a handy tree branch, ‘can you speak or are you mute, girl?’
‘I-I can speak,’ Anya squeaked out.
The man smiled at the sound of nervousness in her voice. ‘Good,’ he said softly, lifting the white shirt he wore over his head and dropping it on the grass. ‘I had heard this clearing was magical, but never did I think I’d find a beautiful nymph here waiting for me.’
Anya’s eyes grew wide as she watched him stripping in front of her as if he had not a care in the world. Even as her shocked eyes registered that he was reaching for the ties to his breeches, she couldn’t help but admire the width of his chest or the light layer of fur that covered it. His body was scarred, speaking of years of battle and a warrior’s way, but chiseled with muscle that made him look hard and invincible. She could count the muscled ridges of his stomach in even the dim light of the clearing and she felt her heart start to race.
His hair was dark, cut shorter than the men of her kingdom wore theirs and he pushed his fingers through it quickly, as if seeing her eyes upon it. His lips were full, seeming meant to smile, though now he wore a frown as if he didn’t know what to make of her. High cheekbones slashed ridges under his eyes, the skin hollowed slightly as if he’d missed a few meals recently. But it was his eyes that held her sway, emerald green and bright, even in the light of the moon above, they radiated an intelligence as well as pain, a pain she understood.
He was as lonely as she.
‘Who are you?’ she asked softly.
‘My name is Ryder,’ he said softly. ‘I come from beyond the Seventh Kingdom.’
‘You lie,’ Anya said quickly. ‘There is nothing beyond the Seventh Kingdom.’
‘There is,’ Ryder insisted, idly rubbing his chest
before he sat in the grass to remove his huge boots. ‘My people have not the wealth or the power of the kingdoms, but we do exist. Perhaps I’ll pack you into my saddle bag and take you with me. I could prove what I say then.’
‘My father wouldn’t allow it,’ Anya said royally, lifting her chin. ‘He would kill you and then punish me, believing that somehow I had attracted your attention and asked to be your hostage.’
‘You say that as if your father held power in this land,’ Ryder commented, standing and wriggling out of the tight-fitting leather breeches. His cock rose in front of her, hugely impressive in size, though she had nothing really to compare it to but the feel of the one that had tried to bugger her earlier. This one looked bigger.
Ryder noted her eyes on his cock and felt it twitch as a warm wave washed through him. He stroked his fist over the fat shaft, letting his fingers coat in the liquid lubricant that wept from the tip. ‘Come here, wench,’ he said softly, holding his other hand out to her. ‘Come and make his acquaintance.’
Anya shook her head but it was as if her body was in his thrall. She found the sandy bottom of the pond, standing so that the water sheeted off of her, leaving drips that sparkled in the moonlight like shimmering crystals. Her skin was flawless, her beauty such that his head spun. Her breasts rose high upon her chest, the soft pink of her nipples turning red as they hardened in the cool night air.
‘Be damned, wench,’ he groaned as she continued to come out of the water. ‘You’re comely enough to make any man forget his place in this world.’ His eyes trailed over her skin, from her shoulders down over the concave planes of her stomach and then further as the wet pelt at the apex of her thighs came into view.
Her thighs were strong columns of ivory flesh, curved with womanly softness that had his breath hissing into his lungs. She finally stood before him, naked as he, her eyes locked upon his. ‘I want you,’ he whispered unnecessarily for it was obvious from the shaft he still stroked. ‘Tell me your name so that I might know who I am thanking the goddesses for tonight.’
‘A-An…Sonya,’ she quickly amended. ‘Sonya Bitterroot.’
His free hand had come up, hovering over her skin almost as if he were afraid if he touched her she would disappear. ‘A pretty name but not one that suits such as you.’ His fingers found her shoulder, his hard, callused hand moving down her spine and pulling her into his embrace. He moaned as the stiff peaks of her breasts trailed against the wide plane of his chest and then his other hand threaded though the satiny softness of her wet hair, turning her face up to his.
‘If you are spoken for, Sonya now is the time to tell me, for I won’t be stopped once we’ve started.’
‘And if I am spoken for?’ she managed to ask for the heat of his body pressed so intimately against her own was short circuiting her thoughts.
‘Then I shall have to kill him because I don’t think I can stop even now,’ he murmured, bending his head to find her soft lips.
The first brush was like lightning, swift, electrifying and over too quickly. Then his mouth returned, teasing hers with soft touches, his tongue licking at the corners of her mouth until she opened for him. He slid his tongue into her mouth, tasting her passion, finding her own to dance and rub against it with tantalizing effects.
When he lifted his head, his eyes were half closed, hazy with passion. ‘You have no man,’ he whispered, ‘for I swear I am the first to take these luscious lips.’
‘Y-you are,’ she answered timidly, her hands sliding up his chest, stopping to play with the hair that curled at his nape. ‘My father would kill you if he saw us.’
‘I do not kill easily,’ Ryder said, smiling down at her before dipping his head once more. He lifted her against him, her feet hanging far from the ground. ‘I plan upon taking you, little Sonya. Do you have any issues with that?’
Anya stared up at Ryder, her eyes wide and searching. ‘If I had issue, my lord, would you let me leave here with my modesty intact?’
‘Your modesty?’ Ryder smirked. ‘You think to tell me one so bold as you is still virginal?’
”Tis true, no man has thrust his member into me and taken my veil,’ she said softly, ducking her head as a blush suffused her cheeks. Her hands slid from his neck, rubbing over his chest to push a bit of space between them. ‘My father would kill anyone who dared defile his daughter.’
‘Then should I bargain a price, lady, for I would have you more than this one night.’
‘A titled lord or princely visage is the price that must be paid, sir knight. My father wants only the best for his only child.’ She glanced up at his snort. ‘You doubt me, sir?’
‘No doting daddy would allow his virginal daughter to roam the countryside this way. ‘Tis an interesting tale you tell, little Sonya.’
‘Tis the truth,’ she said softly. She knew he didn’t believe her. With a quick twist of her body, she wriggled away from his arms, going back to the pond and throwing herself in, swimming quickly to the other side of the still pool.
She didn’t hear him follow her, only knew that he had when she felt his hand wrap around her ankle as she tried to wade to shore.
Then he was on top of her in the shallow water, his cock nudging at the soft flesh between her thighs, making her gasp.
‘You’ve run and I’ve chased,’ he growled by her ear. ‘Now you may say that you fought to protect your modesty and yield to me as we both wish.’ He nuzzled her ear, the heat of his breath sending shivers down her spine. ‘Come Sonya, yield to me so that I might show you pleasure of a kind you’ve never had before.’
”Tis impossible. Please, my lord, let me go.’ She struggled half-heartedly against him, pushing her small fists against the heavy breadth of his chest.
‘I cannot.’ He gazed down at the lovely visage, breathing heavily of the sweetness of her scent, even muddled with the cold water of the pond. ‘I fear I am caught in the snare of your beauty, my lady. I shall never be freed of the memory of you. I must live this night with you to the fullest otherwise the regret I would feel come morning might slay me.’
‘Fancy words you speak, sir knight. Fancy words that shall not sway me in the tiniest. I must return to my father in the exact way that I left his home. To do any other would mean my death.’
‘Now I know you lie, girl. No father worthy of the name would slay his daughter for something that was other than her own fault.’ He traced little kisses down her cheeks and over her jawline, his cock rubbing roughly against her slender thigh. ‘I would make you my own girl.’
Anya groaned, his lips upon her neck sending a chill, drawing goose flesh over her skin. ‘No, ’tis impossible. I….I cannot.’ She was still in his arms though. Arms that were thick with hard muscles, strong and sure. They would hold her true and allow no harm to come to her, this she somehow knew for certain.
A thrill shot through her, remembering the hand that had stroked her between her thighs earlier this day and the pleasure and excitement it had given. A pleasure she could feel now when all this man had done was to hold her close to his naked flesh. ‘We shouldn’t,’ she gasped.
‘We should,’ he answered, catching her chin in one hand and holding it still. ‘We definitely should.’
He didn’t allow her to answer, his lips capturing hers, his tongue pressing for entrance to the dark secrets of her mouth, longing for her taste. She moaned and then whimpered, she couldn’t remember ever feeling this way, needing something she didn’t know how to ask for.
‘Sir,’ she gasped when he lifted his head. ‘Please, we shouldn’t do this.’
‘Yes, my sweet princess, we should most definitely do this and more.’ He cupped her naked breast with one hard hand. He caressed her gently, sweetly, with the calluses that came from years of use with sword and rein
tenderly abrading the hard tip of her breast.
She gasped again, whimpering as her hands slid up his naked chest, tracing over scars left over from battles fought far away. Her fingers slid into the damp curls at the nape of his neck, twisting as she arched her back, thrusting the soft mound harder into his hand.
‘I think that you aren’t as dead set against this as you sound, little one.’ He twisted her hard nipple, listening to the soft moans that spilled from her lips like sweet wine. With a harsh groan, he ducked his head, his mouth capturing her other nipple, pulling it into his mouth. He pleasured her with careful bites and languid licks, flicking his tongue over the turgid flesh.
‘Oh by the gods! What is this you do to me?’
‘Pleasures of the flesh, princess. With a body like this, I cannot understand how you remained pure this long. You were made to ride a cock. Made to ride my cock.’ He moved over her, taking her hand and wrapping it around the hot, thick flesh of his cock. With a growl, he shivered as he felt the softness of her palm holding him tightly as he taught her the rhythm and speed he wanted that gentle flesh to move.
He dropped his head, pressing a kiss against her forehead. It had been months since he’d had his last female, not because he didn’t have offers, he’d had more offers than he could come up with reasons to defer. But this sweet nymph was making him feel things he’d never thought to ever feel, things he wasn’t sure he knew how to profess.
He finally reached down, pulling her hand away, glancing up to see a look of what seemed like hurt in her eyes. ‘It was too good, beauty. I would have spilled into your hand if I hadn’t stopped you.’
‘Would that be bad?’ A small smile touched her lips and he shook his head and laughed.
‘It would, sweetling. I want to be buried deep between your thighs when I loose my seed.’ He reached down, opening her thighs and pressing his thumb between her soft lower lips. Her clit rose like a tiny stem, seeming to vibrate against his flesh. She gasped. ‘What is this you do, sir? Is this some kind of magick?’ She thrust her hips against his invading thumb, rubbing against his hard as it pushed lower, slipping between her lips and into her.
She moaned, her hands digging into the skin of his back. Her eyes were tightly closed, concentrating upon the pleasure he was doling out with a generous hand. She could do little more than hold on to him and experience every little bit of ecstasy he was determined to give.
She grasped his soft curls, digging into the thickness of his hair. She found the hard column of his throat, her thumb sliding over the thick muscle and then down to the heavy muscles of his shoulders. She held on tight there as his hands moved over her body. She couldn’t stop her hips from thrusting up to him, the pleasure only growing with every touch of him.
She cried out when it finally got to be too much. Her body tightened even more and then she felt the soft, slick slide of his tongue over her most intimate flesh. His name flew from her lips as her body seemed to explode and pleasure the likes she’d never known burst from that tiny spot between her thighs. It seemed to go on forever and was over way too soon. When she could finally force open her eyes, Ryder was staring down at her with a small smile upon his lips.
‘You’re beautiful,’ he said, nuzzling against her and stealing tiny kisses. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything as utterly amazing as the sight of pleasure upon your gorgeous features, Sonya Bitterroot.’ He smiled down at her and then she felt it, the heavy rod of his flesh, pressing against the veil of her innocence.
‘No, Ryder. You cannot! My father…’
He smiled slowly. ‘I will worry about your father. For now, let us be like lovers. Allow me to kiss and caress your flesh. Do not fear him for I will protect you always, Sonya.’
Before she could utter another word, the tip of his cock had wedged between her lower lips. He moved his hips, soaking that spongey tip in the secretions that seemed to pour from between her silken thighs. He kissed her, his hips moving to send the hard shaft rubbing between her lips, his glans brushing over her clit with every sweet thrust. He growled her name, his mouth and teeth playing with the succulent flesh of her throat.
Arisha
- 29.07.2022
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