Demon's Captive (2 page)

Chapter Four

      The heavy door groaned. It was her only warning. Harsh and sudden, bright light flooded the room. Charity instinctively slapped her hands to her eyes, trying to keep the needles of illumination from her sensitive pupils. The illumination was immediately followed by the sound of the door being slammed shut. Unable to see, and acutely aware of her naked vulnerability, her ragged breaths froze at the sound of creaking leather. He
avy footfalls approached.
A shadow swept over her, providing relief from the fingers of light that probed the corners of her eyes. Unable to stand the suspense any longer, Charity lowered her hands.
      He leaned over her, his imposing form blotting out the light like a solar eclipse. He spoke, and although the words were in her language, she didn't immediately understand. Charity realized he was growling, as if his voice was more suited to roars than words.
      "I asked if you were frightened." One of his massive hands reached out and encircled her throat completely, drawing her upper body off the bed until the leash was tight. "Let's see what you fear."
      Charity closed her eyes as sudden pressure built in her skull. Her hands wrapped around his wrist, barely able to circle it.
      Her mind called forth images, memories, and thoughts. Dimly, she was aware he was pillaging her mind for her darkest fears. Oh, God.

* * * * *

      Hardly feeling her weak clasp, it still drew Melmanon's eyes to her hands. The striking difference in the size and color of her flesh against his skin was conspicuous. Her small hands convulsed around his wrist as he probed deep into her mind. After a moment, he found her nightmares.
      Images of the war against her people figured prominently and he took note of what seemed to disturb her most. All in all, rather boring. He had several bloody favorites she hadn't even thought of. With very little effort, he drew back from the mental connection, dispassionately observing the hard shudder that ran the length of her body.

  
   He released her mind from his hold, watched as her eyes fluttered open, and the hands around his wrist fell back to her sides. For the first time, he saw her eyes were a deep green with small, pale flecks of gold.
      With a glance to the rest of her, he noticed the body previously covered by layers of dirt. Luckily, a medic had been on hand to take care of the task. Without her covering of clothing and filth, she was very pale. Probably on the tall side for her people, she seemed pathetically frail to him.

      Unlike the female warriors of the war tribe, she seemed soft, her skin totally smooth, with no scars or calluses. Her breasts were round and heavy, the nipples peaked in the cold air. His captive's form had the welcoming shape of a wife rather than a warrior.
      He focused his gaze on her rounded abdomen, then lower, where he saw her luxuriant thighs were slightly parted. At their juncture, downy-looking hair barely shielded deep pink lips.
      He recalled some of her nightmares and consciously tried to regain the mood that had been dispelled by her distracting beauty. Melmanon let a savage grin split his black lips, then reached between her thighs with his free hand, cupping her sex. He growled and leaned close to press his lips to her ear.
      "This will probably hurt, Charity." Her name was a
sneer. "Feel free to scream."

* * * * *

      Charity's heartbeat throbbed as the hand at her throat held her immobile, and the hand between her legs spread her thighs wide. Tears streaked her temples. She closed her eyes tightly, bracing herself.
      One long digit pressed into her, probing slowly, then forcing deep, rubbing her sensitive inner walls. Charity was humiliated by the fact she became wet, her longneglected body unknowingly reacting to the stimulation.
      As his finger withdrew, she trembled, and was rewarded for her response when it thrust deep again. After a moment, she felt a second finger join the first, and a small gasp escaped her, hips
bucking as he stretched her.

* * * * *

      Melmanon watched his violation bring her to aching arousal. Touching her mind allowed him to see her embarrassment, but over it all was her mounting desire.
      "You like this, don't you, Charity?" His voice was a taunting growl.
      "No, I don't want…" Breathless gasps escaped her, the trembling in her doubling as he slowly withdrew his fingers.
      "I think you do. I think you want me to hurt you." There was dark speculation in his tone.
      She refused to answer him, shaking her head wordlessly.
      Curiosity got the better of him, and he used his two fingers to slowly fuck her. The hand at her throat shifted to cup her neck, holding her suspended. Wet heat coated his palm, giving away her mounting excitement at the steady thrusting. Twisting his angle slightly, he used the slickness to ease deeper until she moaned sweetly with each stroke.
      Her chest rose and fell heavily, her full breasts surging. Her body stretched and shuddered as he brought her to the edge, then stopped, withdrawing his fingers to rest his damp hand across her hips, spanning her easily.
      "Oh, no, I don't want you to enjoy this." Looking down at her spread out like a sacrifice over his bed, he realized his bloodlust was gone, replaced by an even more fundamental urge.
      Rape was a part of war, but usually to dominate and humiliate a defiant enemy, not one already captured. To take one so frail and at his mercy was pointless, but his cock had decided otherwise. Releasing her, his hands went to his clot
hes, and he stripped quickly.

* * * * *

      Charity opened her eyes as his hands released her, then widened in horror as he removed his clothes, revealing a dark body thick with muscles. Between his legs… It was the same thickness from base to tip. Unlike the dried blood color of his skin, it shone a bright red. With large testes drawn tightly at its base, it was not obscene or repulsive. It was unreasonably large, swaying out from his body like a terrible weapon.
      Against her will, she spoke, pleading in hoarse tones. "Please, don't. Don't do this. You'll kill me." A whimper escaped her as his glowing eyes met her desperate ones.
      The eerie black orbs flickered like flames burned within their depths, but he did not speak. His silence was both frightening and perversely arousing. In contrast to her earlier concern, now she feared, more than any pain, that she might enjoy it.
      His utter lack of expression and continued erection caused her to squirm as the wetness between her legs flowed even more. As if he sensed her heightened arousal, a parody of a smile parted his lips, revealing the mouth full of wickedly sharp teeth.
      "Maybe you will enjoy dying." So saying, he reached for her neck again, and Charity's eyes closed as his hand snapped the leash, freeing her, but leaving the collar in place.

Chapter Five

      He pulled her lower body off the edge of the bed until her legs lay draped over his forearms, and his hands held her buttocks. Her first instinct was to fight, to try to hold him off. Reality intruded swiftly, and Charity opened her eyes to look at her tormentor with weary acceptance.
      There was nowhere to run; no one to help her. It was either fight and suffer for it, or acquiesce to his wishes. One would certainly bring only pain, and the other may be more easily endured. Letting her hands fall back to frame her face, Charity turned away from the sight of her lower body poised against his own.
      "You're right, you know." His words brought her gaze back to his face. "This is far less…damaging…than what I had intended." He pressed his hips forward until the tip of his shaft pressed against her wet center.
      His hands cupping her bottom, she felt his thumbs part her labia, feral growls rumbling in his throat as he pushed past the resistance of her body. Gasping moans came from her throat as he used shallow thrusts to burrow deeper. His size alone kept him from plunging forward; once he worked most of his length inside, he'd reached the end of her channel.
      Pulling out, he repeated the process, and she blanched at the tightness of her body around his invading cock.
      Charity had never felt so dominated, so helplessly aroused in her whole life. The sharp contrast of her captor's fearful appearance and tender treatment made her desire a sharp and ungovernable ache. Between her legs, the thick plunge of his sex balanced her on the knife-edge between pleasure and pain. As the rise to climax peaked, she focused on the savage visage of her warrior.
      Shame at her reaction to his touch flooded her heart. Digging her short nails into the tender skin of her palms, Charity turned her face away and forced herself to remember the terrible crimes committed against her people by this beast and his armies. With the images of war so fresh in her memory, she held the pleasure at bay.
      "Ah, you're so fucking tight." Marveling at the hot suction of her sheath gripping him, Melmanon wondered if he had become perverted. Certainly sexual domination was a large part of war tribe culture, but it was only used against one who fought. To subdue those who did not fight was not normal. He could not deny that he had never been so stimulated.
      Without the necessity of holding her down, he leaned back, watching as her lips spread wide to receive him. Intoxicated by the vision of her pale body, he settled into a gentle rhythm, unconsciously careful not to cause her needless pain.
      Unable to delay his pleasure a moment longer, Melmanon stroked deeper, building speed until he fucked her at a steady pace. A tingling at the base of his spine signaled his release, and he sank deep one last time as he came, spurting his burning hot seed into her body. Grunting in pure animalistic response, he gave several quick, shallow thrusts to prolong the pleasure.
      Still gripping her hips, he raised his head to look at her, and found her face averted, her eyes closed and her hands clenched on either side of her head. One small fist was pressed tight to her mouth.
      He touched inside her mind, felt her shame and the discomfort his size had caused, but also, unfulfilled desire. The knowledge that she had reacted against her will made him want to fuck her again. Still deep inside her, he felt himself becoming smaller. His member would never soften, but remained hard and unyielding, even in repose. He withdrew only slightly and felt her tight body clasp him like a glove. He began thrusting again, aware he still filled her well.
      Less careful of his size, he fucked her in earnest, pounding as he hadn't been able to before. With each slap of their bodies, he sensed her climax edging closer. When she was close, he thrust his finger into her anus, probing briefly, and sending her into a blazing orgasm.
      Melmanon watched as she clenched, then growled as the muscles of her cunt milked him. The sensation of her climax renewed his erection. He withdrew from her clinging pussy and used his grip on her hips to flip her onto her stomach. With her legs spread wide, he lifted her slightly and pressed his shaft deep, enjoying the even tighter resistance in this position. He used their combined wetness to lubricate his finger before pressing it into her ass.
      Charity was torn between discomfort and unfamiliar pleasure, but as he continued to slowly fuck her pussy and ass, the pleasure warred for dominance. When she couldn't hold back her moans, she felt a second finger enter. He was merciless and tireless, rhythmically pounding until she felt an unwilling orgasm approaching. As the wave broke, and she writhed in ecstasy, the two fingers in her ass spread, bringing a wave of pain that only heightened her pleasure, causing more broken cries to issue from her throat.
      He removed his fingers and quickly replaced them with his cock, and pushed until she felt her sphincter give. Her body tensed under him, and her hands gripped the sheets as she begged for mercy.
      "No, no, you're hurting me!" With only the tip of him inside, he paused at her words.
      "Now you're getting the idea." The mean words were accompanied by a thrust, sinking deeper as she clenched futilely against the invasion. "Push out." His harsh tone was belied by the stroke of his hand against her hip. "Relax."
      Fighting against her instinct to do the opposite, Charity took advantage of his momentary pause to force herself to relax, letting all of her weight rest on the bed. As soon as she felt the last bit of tension slide away, her captor began again. She did as he instructed. The stinging was still intense and sharp, but somewhat improved.
      As he began to withdraw, the sensation changed. Over the pain a dark pleasure crept,
drawing her nipples tight, and making her moan until he slid in again.
      "Do you want me to stop?"
      Torn between the breathless agony of his penetration and the ecstasy of withdrawal, Charity couldn't respond. When he thrust again and held there, refusing to move, she bucked against the bed, sharp and unfamiliar lust riding her. Finally, he used his hands to hold her still as he fucked her with furiously pounding hips, all restraint
gone.
      Pinned under the force of his hands, Charity squirmed, her clit caught against the slick fabric with every thrust. His thickness was unbearable. Her body's confusion between agony and arousal sent her into another blazing climax without warning. Above her, he buried himself up to his balls, and she felt his cock throb in release.
      With her smooth cheeks pressed tight to his pelvis, Melmanon took deep, snarling breaths. She was so tight it felt as if she were still milking him.
      Reluctantly, he pulled from her and noted that smears of blood marked his cock. He left her body bent over the bed, walked to the lavatory, and returned a few minutes later with a moist toweling cloth. Already clean, he watched her quivering pussy and the cum that slowly trailed from her in a thick stream. Her mind told him that she was both sore and aroused, and conflicted about her response to his body.
      Her utter submissiveness was perversely alluring. The sexual act for warriors required the one you wanted to mate with be conquered by combat-challenge before you could fuck them. No one would ever let themselves be used without fighting, both before and during the act. To have the freedom to use her, take her without having to fight for it, was thrilling. Even now, his shaft pulsed to life, eager for more. He stepped once more between her legs and turned her until she lay face up.
      Charity cringed in his grasp. Even now, after he had defiled her in the most degrading way, she inexplicably wanted more. Part of her mused she didn't resist because she had wanted it, enjoyed it as she never had before.
      Although there was little expression in his basilisk-like gaze while he used a wet cloth to cleanse her lower body, she thought there was a sort of triumph in him, as if he gloried in mastering her. And why shouldn't he? She felt tears well anew as she realized he had mastered her very easily.
      Dropping her gaze from his face and letting her eyes close, she missed seeing his grim visage lose its edge. But an echo of his thoughts whispered through her mind, making her shiver.

      Yes, Charity, I am your master now.