Carnal Sacrifice (19 page)

Garon bought Laela a pale, furred vest to replace the too-sheer blouse, and she wore it with her brown leather skirt, sometimes serving ale at night with Sima and  Janya—but she stayed close by her lover’s side, and it became known to the patrons that she belonged to
 
him
, so the men reserved their flirtatious touches for the other women.

Often, Laela would carry a goblet to Garon and curl up on his lap to simply enjoy the general camaraderie of the tavern at night. She relished the protective hand he would curl over her ass or high onto her leg, glad not only for others to see their affection but also pleased and thrilled to feel so possessed by him. She only hoped that the possession had transformed into something deeper now. Although he never said so, she found herself daring to wish that she had become
 
more
 
than a possession, more than a mere object of work and sex.

“Shall I fetch you another goblet?” she asked him one night as she perched on his thighs, one arm lying comfortably around his shoulders.

“That would be good, princess, yes,” he replied, his eyes glittering on her in the candlelit room. Around them, men talked and laughed, others flirted with Sima and  Janya, but all she really saw was Garon’s seductive smile, the dark stubble on his jaw, the wayward lock of blond hair that drooped mischievously over his forehead.

As she moved to the counter, Sima swayed toward her in another sinfully skimpy skirt of dark brown fur, frayed at the hem to make it so short at some points that Laela thought she might catch a glimpse of Sima’s cunt as she moved. Although Garon had never again suggested she be intimate with the two women, Laela had grown accustomed to watching Sima and Janya entertain the men with each other. Thus, she’d also grown accustomed to the sight of both women’s pussies, so even though she didn’t see Sima’s right now, she couldn’t help but envision it as her skirt threatened to reveal her mound with each sensual step she took.

“Eh, Sima,” one of the men—a newcomer who’d only been in the tavern the last few nights—called from a nearby table, “how come you never touch
 
that
 
one?” He pointed to Laela, where she stood pouring Garon’s ale from a clay jug.

Sima laughed. “Because that one is
 
his
,” she replied, pointing to Garon, who wore a wicked grin of arousal. “And since Janya is busy just now,”—she, in fact, was straddling a burly man in a chair in the back of the room—“you shall have to be patient.  But as soon as Janya is done, I’m sure she will want a sweet taste of this.” She lifted the

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ragged hem of her skirt the few inches it took to put her cunt on display. The men  cheered hungrily as Sima raked one long, slender finger through her slit, leaned  forward to let the nearest man take that finger into his mouth, then withdrew it and  turned back to her work.

“Aw, now, Garon’s a reasonable fellow. He won’t mind a bit of sharing. Will you  now, Garon?” Clearly, the man who spoke—older than Garon, but a clean sort who  Laela suspected worked at some trade in the village—had known Garon a long,  comfortable while.

Laela’s gaze flicked from Sima, who licked her lips as she looked Laela over as if she were a tasty bit of meat, to Garon, whose teasing smile brimmed with amusement.  “Whatever she likes,” he said, and she knew he meant it. She could also tell, from the very expression on his face, that he would welcome such an indulgence—and the knowledge left her pussy moist.

On the night she’d become intimate with Sima and Janya, she’d experienced true pleasure at their ministrations—and she couldn’t help being aroused by the notion of experimenting further, especially given the heat in Garon’s gaze. True to Garon’s prediction, Sima had never again questioned Laela’s past and seemed only interested in the sexual possibilities.

She peered over at Garon, licked her upper lip, and let him know without words—
this is for you, lover
.

It was for him, and it was also for her.
 
Her
 
delight with Sima would delight
 
him
 
in turn. And his pleasure from watching would ricochet back onto her even
 
more
powerfully.

She looked at Sima with her tall, thin stature, her dark beauty, her nipples jutting through a thin white blouse that stopped above her navel, those legs that stretched on forever—and she wanted her.

For Garon. For herself.

And even for all the men in this room.

She wanted her because Garon was not demanding she do it. She wanted her because she knew she could take pleasure from Sima, and because she wanted to show her man that she understood pleasure
 
fully
 
now, that he’d opened her to a deep joy she’d have never known otherwise.

The two women came together slowly, sensually, their bodies barely grazing one another until Laela leaned in, open-mouthed, for a kiss.

The men cheered their arousal, and though Laela could not see Garon in that moment, she felt his gaze and let it run all through her like warm, slow syrup.

Feeling suddenly bold, fearless, she followed the urge to reach up and touch Sima’s breast. The other girl sighed and smiled sensually down at her as Laela gently squeezed the high, firm globe, raking her thumb across the hard peak. Heat radiated from her hand down through her arm and body, and any last vestiges of shyness that might have

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remained inside her fell away, prodding her to undo the two hooks between Sima’s  breasts and push the thin fabric aside to grasp both taut mounds.

The men’s raucous comments and cheers persisted, but Laela’s world became  Sima—and Garon. Was
 
he
 
cheering? Sighing? Moaning? She had no idea, but in her  mind, yes, he was. In her mind, he whispered in her ear, telling her how beautiful she  was with Sima, telling her he wanted more—more touching, more kissing—telling her  he wanted her to follow her every whim without thought or reservation.

Sima moaned as Laela tenderly kneaded and caressed her lovely breasts—tan from  exposure to the sun
. I should let mine tan, as well,
 
she thought. Garon was such a natural  man, natural and hard-working and earthy like everyone else in Myrtell, and she knew  instinctively that he would enjoy seeing her skin grow sun-kissed like Sima’s.

On impulse, she bent to lick one nipple, delightfully hard on her tongue, then let  her lips close around it, gently sucking.

Sima’s sighs from above her prodded her on as her hands ran through Laela’s hair.

Finally releasing the hard bud from her mouth, she smiled up at the other girl, then  sank her tongue to the opposite nipple, letting it circle and twirl about the dark, rosy  bead. “Oooh,” Sima moaned, her eyes filled with naughty joy as she looked down on  Laela. But it was not Sima’s gaze that fueled her.
 
Watch me, Garon
, she thought, laving  Sima’s pretty nipple, concentrating on making it wetter and wetter.
 
Watch me.

When finally she rose from Sima’s breasts, Sima wasted no time undoing Laela’s  vest hooks. As Sima pushed the fur aside, seizing the ample mounds, Laela was  reminded exactly where she was, suddenly feeling the hungry, lusty eyes of all the men  in the room. Unlike the night when Garon had made her wear her skimpy top to serve  them, though, tonight their rapt stares made her hot inside, so hot that she knew her  own juices were leaking from her beneath her skirt. She instantly understood how all  those eyes fueled Sima’s and Janya’s passion—and yet, even so, the man whose eyes she  felt the most remained Garon.

As Sima molded Laela’s breasts, too large to be contained in the dark-haired girl’s hands, Laela looked over at him and knew her daring had succeeded in exciting him beyond all measure. His mouth had dropped open slightly and he appeared near to salivating. Despite herself, she drank in the power it gave her and realized she wanted more. She loved being his slave—but in this moment, just for now, she wanted to make him
 
her
 
slave.

“Kiss them,” she said to Sima.

All the men reacted, sighing in awe, but she kept her gaze on Garon, whose eyes

now locked on her bared chest.

Sima didn’t hesitate to lean in, bestowing soft, lovely, titillating kisses on first one erect nipple, then the other. Laela watched her, watched the feminine hands mold her, watched the feminine lips gently kiss and lick her. Pleasure radiated throughout her body and she let it own her, let herself drink it in, soak it up, as she watched the other woman continue laving the hard peaks of her sensitive breasts, until her cunt hummed

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with deep, heated pleasure beneath her skirt. She wondered if her juices were yet  running down her inner thighs.

More. Surprise him more. Surprise yourself more. Don’t think. Just indulge. Let the  pleasure surround you, swallow you. Become a part of it. Become pure pleasure.

She continued caressing Sima’s breasts as Sima pleasured hers, too—until she  finally pushed Sima away from her. She didn’t let the taller girl’s look of shock—maybe  even anger—disturb or dissuade her. She’d make her happy again soon enough.

Laela shoved Sima gently until her back met the wall. Then she kissed Sima’s  breasts…and Sima’s stomach. She slowly dropped to her knees and let her hands slide  up the fronts of Sima’s strong, slender thighs…until the other girl’s tiny skirt was  pooled at her hips, her cunt on lovely display.

Obviously sensing what was to come, Sima gazed down into Laela’s eyes, then  lifted one foot to the stone ledge below the hearth Garon used to heat the place in  winter. The move parted the dark, thin curls that protected her pussy so that her flesh  shone pink and wet in between.

Laela used the fingertips of both hands to gently touch Sima’s outer lips, to spread  her farther, to explore. She could smell Sima’s moisture as it dampened her fingers,  sexuality oozing from her.

She ran the tip of her thumb over Sima’s clit, eliciting a light moan from above.  Around her, the room had grown strangely quiet.

“Lick it,” Sima said softly.

Laela leaned in to rake her tongue sensually through the pink folds of Sima’s pussy,  sensing the woman above her shuddering at the sensation as she drank in the deep  scent of her and absorbed the salty taste.

She licked again, letting herself feel the soft flesh beneath her tongue, ending at the  swollen little nub at the top. Soft. Slick. Salty-sweet.

That’s when two strong arms encircled her from behind and she raised her gaze,  startled, as Garon picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder as if she were a sack  of cornmeal.

“Sorry, Sima,” he said, his voice deep, husky, “but someone else will have to finish  the job. I’m sure you won’t have trouble finding volunteers.” Then he stalked toward  the back of the tavern and through the door into the dark bedchamber, toting Laela the  whole way.

Laela heard the door slam behind them just before he dropped her onto the furcovered bed. Her heart beat like a drum in her chest. What was happening? Had she  misread his response?

A second later he was on her, his body weighing hers down, his cock pressed hard  between her thighs. She could see him only in shadow, by the pale moonlight admitted  through open shutters. “What in Ares name
 
was
 
that?” he bit out.

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She let her arms close cautiously around his shoulders as his hands gripped her breasts, tight. “Are you angry at me?” she asked, stomach churning now.

He drew back slightly—and she saw the astonishment in his eyes. “Have you lost your sanity, princess? You just gave me the most enormous erection of my life.”

Relief flooded her and she smiled in the dark. “Good. You taught me that watching could bring deep pleasure, so I wanted to thrill you by touching her, kissing her.”

He lowered a hot, hard kiss to her mouth. “When you licked her pussy I nearly came in my pants.”

“I…wanted to see what you feel like when
 
you
 
lick
 
me
. I wanted to know what you taste.”

The sound that left him was a hungry growl and his next harsh kiss left her lips nearly bruised. Her cunt wept for attention now and he seemed to know it, for he worked his way briskly down her body with more rough touches and wild kisses until he was shoving her skirt up, bringing his mouth down on her aching pussy.

“Oh Ares!” she cried at the brutal pleasure.

His tongue followed, licking furiously, again, again, until his mouth latched onto her clit, sucking hard and relentless as she thrust responsively at his face. Without thought, she molded her own soft breasts in her hands, letting the nipples become pinched between her first two fingers, as he curled his hardened palms beneath her ass.

She lifted to him, lifted, lifted, hard and near the point of climax, when he thrust a finger into her anus and sent the orgasm barreling through her like great waves rolling on the ocean, crashing through her cunt and outward. “Oh Garon,” she sighed. “Yes,  Garon, yes.”