Falcon’s Captive (6 page)

Left tied and immobile? Was that what he was hinting at? Fear dried her throat, and it took all her self-control not to look toward distant Raptor’s Craig for reassurance.

“What’s this?” He touched his fingers to the sides of her throat. “Your blood is racing. What I said frightens you, doesn’t it?”

“No.”

“Don’t lie.”

He thought she’d tell him the truth? As one moment became another, her heart rate slowed, and she no longer found it so difficult to swallow. Her momentary fright confused her because even though right now only she and her captor shared this area, she suspected that the Falcon who’d been watching earlier was on his way to Raptor’s Craig to tell the others. Maybe instead of just waiting and watching, her kind would defend her, find a way to free her.

Maybe they’d kill her captor—unless his arrows found them first.

“I didn’t expect you to say what you did, that’s all,” she admitted, her tone as unemotional as possible. “If you’ve never been tied up, you can’t comprehend what I’m going through.”

His hold on her chin let up. The way his fingers now moved, she almost believed he was trying to soothe away whatever discomfort he’d caused her. The man confused her. Maybe that’s what had been behind her irrational fear.

“You’re right,” he said and turned his attention to her useless ankle. “No one has ever done anything like this to me. I’d hate it, and whoever did it to me.” He continued to regard her. “Do you have a name?”

“Do I—of course!” she snapped, recalling that he’d already asked the question. Damn him for lightly running his fingers over her anklebone and calf! She could barely think.

“What is it?”

She wasn’t going to tell him; revealing something so personal would take what existed between them in a direction she didn’t want. But if he didn’t call her by name, he might think of her as “slave,” and that was even worse.

To her surprise, he didn’t demand a response. Instead, he studied her deeply bent leg and barely concealed cunt. His eyes were like fire against her skin, somehow touching tissues that had never felt this alive or vulnerable. Much as she wanted him to know how wrong he was to call her kind “Wildings,” much as she needed to see awe and disbelief and pain and even fear in his eyes, she needed other things from him even more.

“Don’t look at me like that!”

“Haven’t you figured it out? What you do or don’t want doesn’t matter. I’m in control, not you.”

Not once I’m free.
Although she was tempted to warn him, she didn’t. Let him discover for himself what he’d begun when he’d captured her. Before she was done with him, he’d regret having ever seen, let alone touched her.

“You think you’ve won something by not speaking?” he demanded, his scrutiny increasing. “You haven’t. And to make sure you understand—”

Before she could begin to guess what he had in mind, he grabbed her free ankle and bent her knee forward toward her belly. She fought him, of course, but all too soon, he’d forced her heel against her thigh. He only grunted when she cursed him, only held on as she struggled against his greater strength. All too soon, she was drenched in sweat and exhausted. Still, she continued to try to straighten her leg. She refused to ask herself what he had in mind, and although he was looking into her eyes now, she resolutely didn’t return his stare.

When she had no choice but to rest her head on the ground and pant, he closed in on her until he’d anchored her leg under his knee. With both hands free, he turned his attention to caressing her thighs, buttocks, and belly. She had no doubt what he was doing: proving his superiority. More than that, he was giving her an unforgettable lesson in how much he understood about her body.

Once again she went from loathing everything about him to anticipation. His fingers, although rough, were also gentle. He knew exactly how much pressure was needed to keep from tickling her and used his knowledge to slowly work his way through her resistance.

He toyed with her navel, first filling it with his thumb pad and then his knuckle. When he did, she jumped and shuddered, not that it changed anything. He repeatedly focused on her navel, but when he wasn’t there, his fingers slid over her belly to what he could reach of her pussy.

Maybe he was only pretending he couldn’t penetrate her opening so she’d be forced to wait. To anticipate. To silently cry out.

But what did she want? To be free of him or something—intimate?

He no longer had to force her leg up by her belly; surely he realized he’d stripped resistance from her. Surely he knew, what, everything?

Despite her determination to resist and rebel, she went limp and weak under him. The closer he came to her core, the harder it was to wait for that exciting and terrifying moment. Sensations swirled through her, some she’d experienced before, others beyond her comprehension. Nothing about her body still belonged to her but not just because he’d robbed her of the use of her limbs. It wasn’t that simple.

When he rested the side of a finger along her labial lips, she tried to rest with him so she’d have the strength for what came next. Tried and failed. He was under control, damn him. In contrast, she was flying into tiny fragments. At the same time, her thoughts drifted back to when she’d been in the lake. Probably because of the poison raging through her system, she remembered only bits and pieces. Most of her memories centered around sinking beneath the surface.

Until she’d summoned up the strength to close it, water had threatened to fill her mouth. Even as she’d taken comfort in her small victory, she’d acknowledged the water around her eyes and drifting through her hair. The sinking sensation.

She was drifting now, floating, surrounded and supported by something without end. A magnificent and powerful force touched every inch of her being and, even though that force frightened her, she wanted nothing else. The past faded into nothing, and the present swarmed around her. She was lost. Sinking down.

Forceful hands on her shoulders pulled her back to reality. Before she could fully center herself in the here and now, however, her captor flipped her onto her belly. The leg he’d bent against her belly was now caught under her weight, and the ground flattened her breasts. Tugging uselessly at her bonds, she lifted her head and looked behind her. Yes, there he was, still looming over her. Still controlling her world.

Then he ran his hand along her ass crack and from there to her sex, and she understood why he’d done what he had. Her earlier vulnerability paled in comparison to this.

“You’re beautiful,” he muttered. “I never thought I’d think that of a Wilding, but you are beautiful.”

His hand hadn’t moved but, with a finger resting against her entrance, it didn’t matter. She couldn’t think how she might straighten her leg, but maybe she didn’t want to because this way he had full and free access to her.

Careful! You risk losing yourself.

“Your strength intrigues me.” His deep tone silenced her inner voice. “Yes, I’ve taken that away from you, for now, but it’s still part of you. Something I want to explore.”

Speak! Tell him he has no right!

“This is what you’re about.”

His words began to penetrate only to shatter like a thin layer of ice. She’d just begun to wonder why that was when she realized his hand no longer lay quietly along her sex. A single finger was sliding into her, moving slowly and yet surely, touching inner flesh, gentle and masterful at the same time. Her mind blinked, stayed closed. There was nothing to her beyond his finger inside her. And her pussy weeping for him.

“Please, please, please,” she moaned. Her breath stirred the dirt.

“Please what?”

W
hat are you doing?

Nakos’s cock felt as if a knot had been tied in it, making it all but impossible for him to think. Yes, he knew what he was doing, barely. The energy coursing through his hands was impossible to ignore, as was the pressure in his temple. He’d fingered females before, of course, but they’d either been willing participants or had reconciled themselves to a man’s mastery. Today was different. Not only hadn’t this Wilding ever experienced ropes, she’d yet to acknowledge that he was superior to her in any way.

She was like a meadow painted with a fresh dusting of snow: virginal.

Shifting his position brought him closer to her. Much as he wanted to see her reaction to being finger fucked, he couldn’t shake off her impact to his senses. Her skin was coated with the sweat of her struggles, her mountain of hair tangled around her. There was something otherworldly about the positioning of her useless arms, and he couldn’t tear his attention from the contrast between her coloring and that of the rope he’d put around her.

He loved accepting that she was his and she’d never again taste freedom unless he chose to hand it to her. Maybe it was because he’d gone too long without sex, although a part of him expected that life-weariness and old nightmares played a part. So much of his existence revolved around staying alive and being a valuable Ekewoko, but he’d recently shrugged off that weight so he could concentrate on his possession. The gift that the spirits had handed to him.

“You’re soft here,” he observed in a whisper as his finger sank deeper into her warmth. “Soft and ready for me. Sleek.”

“No, no,” she chanted.

“Don’t deny the truth, Wilding. Feel yourself.” Bending his finger, he stroked her secret walls. “Feel your response.”

“No. No.”

She was on the move, not fighting but, he believed, trying to stay on top of whatever she was experiencing. He debated pointing out that her pussy was flooding itself, but she might call him a liar, and he needed a measure of honesty between them.

“My name is Nakos,” he told her. “Nakos of Ekew, although I haven’t seen my home for many moons. I’m here with my fellow warriors because our lord and our shaman told us this is where we must come if we’re to ever reclaim Ekew.”

She might not care about what he was telling her now, but she’d remember. More important, she’d never forget what Nakos of Ekew had done to her. Fighting what raged through him, he concentrated on milking her responses. If only breathing wasn’t so difficult! If only fantasies of burying his cock inside her didn’t threaten to engulf him.

His finger retreated and advanced, twisted and stroked. Her scent seeped into him, almost as if she was gifting him with her essence. He took the smell of female arousal deep inside him, then opened himself up to the way that scent pushed into his veins and pulsed within his heart. Lost, he ran his other hand over her thigh and buttocks. Dirt clung to her in places, but he didn’t care. Dirt was part of their world, part of this strange thing they were sharing.

“By the spirits.” She jerked her body in one direction, stopped, then rocked herself back to where she’d been. “I—I…”

His mouth remembering how her breast had filled it, he bent low over her so he could run his tongue over her backside. The moment he did, he felt as if he was being pulled into a whirlpool. Startled by her power over him, he pulled out of her pussy and sat up.

She was whimpering like some small, lost animal, her arms and legs trembling, hips moving.

“What’s your name, Wilding? Tell me and I’ll give you what you need.”
Maybe.

For long seconds her silence pushed against him. Then she took a strangled breath. “Jola.”

Jola.
“Do you have a mate, Jola? Someone you share your life with?”

A shiver ran through her. Even as he studied her taut muscles, he sensed that this new reaction had nothing to do with her being sexually stimulated. Instead, no doubt about it, hatred rolled out of her to press against him. He wasn’t surprised when she wrenched herself around so she was on her back once more and staring up at him. Her glare reminded him of a predator’s single-mindedness.

“He’s dead.”

What?
“How?”

“At your hands. Yours, or one of those you’re part of.”

“We call ourselves ‘Ekewoko.’”

“I call you murderers.”

Leaning back, he rested his hands on his thighs. Although she still fascinated him, he had no desire to break through the barrier she’d thrown up around herself. Her hard glare told him that her pussy no longer welcomed him. He could have taken her, of course, but she’d only hate him more, and for reasons he couldn’t fathom, he didn’t want her loathing.

If only he understood what he wanted.

Jola walked behind Nakos of Ekew. The man who called himself an Ekewoko had released her leg, thank goodness, but because her wrists were still tied, her resentment of his superiority continued. Perhaps she should be grateful because her arms were in front of her instead of still anchored to the waist rope. Instead, she cursed the soft leather around her neck and the rope he’d fastened to it so he could lead her wherever he wanted.

The day was going to be warmer than the last few, almost as if winter wasn’t going to come after all. The breeze she suddenly noticed seemed to come from all directions, cooling and heating her skin at the same time. Determined not to give him the satisfaction of hauling her along like some dumb beast, she matched her pace to his. Because when she was in human form she always went barefoot unless the ground was frozen, her soles barely noted what she was walking on. She kept her head up in part so her tangled hair would stay out of her eyes but mostly because she didn’t want him guessing how defeated she felt.

Not just defeated.

If only she could ignore what was taking place between her legs. She should have been able to relax as soon as he’d stopped sexually teasing her, but if anything, her sense of anticipation and need had increased. Every step sent her tissues gliding against each other. Sex juices coated her labial lips, and she occasionally caught a hint of what she smelled like there.

Every time she let down her guard and stopped reminding herself of how much she wanted to see him dead, vivid memories stole over her. He knew too much about her body, too much about what excited a woman.

He called himself a warrior, so did that mean he spent much of his time in battle or preparing for war? If so, she didn’t know how he’d found the time to become an expert about the opposite sex. She wouldn’t ask him about his experiences with women, of course. She certainly didn’t care! But until she’d gotten free or her people came to rescue her, she and Nakos would be together. Only a fool wouldn’t realize how vital it was to probe him for his strengths.

Weaknesses? Did he have any?

Studying the way his legs worked forced her to contemplate that he might not have any physical weaknesses. He certainly hadn’t demonstrated any. In fact, the longer she regarded him, the more she acknowledged that her captor was built for his role in life as a warrior. Yes, he was well armed, but without muscles, sinew, and bone capable of responding to every need, his weapons might not be enough to keep him alive.

Ah! The heat, the fire in her pussy! Even being thirsty did nothing to tamp things down.

His ass was hard and neat and muscled beneath the short leather garment that hung from his waist. She’d been so focused on herself during their struggles that she hadn’t taken note of how the garment was constructed. Most men took care to protect their cocks so maybe there was more to what he was wearing than a skirt that barely reached his knees. The logical conclusion was that his cock rested inside a pouch of some kind, but maybe not.

His hair brushed the tops of his shoulders. It was slightly curled and nearly as dark as hers. If anything, his eyebrows and lashes were even darker than what was on his head, which, although she didn’t want the thought, led to musing about the hairs at his groin.

Damn him! He’d seen her sex. Touched it. Invaded it. Awakened need. In contrast, she was forced to stare at a sun-kissed back made for battle and legs designed for an active life. He wore leather shoes.

She’d slowed while deciding how to get around an ant mound when something tugged at her mind. Grateful for any distraction, she immediately looked skyward. Yes, there it was, a Falcon. It was so high that someone who didn’t know what he was looking at might not know what it was, but she had no doubt that this predator was one of her kind and not just a bird, because her heart and nerves never lied about the difference.

As hunters, Falcons were solitary creatures so she hadn’t been surprised to see only one earlier. Just the same, she’d tried to believe that her rescue would come about when a large number of Falcons attacked Nakos.

Obviously, her kind didn’t believe that time had come, if it ever would.

The strap around her neck pressed against her, reminding her that she’d slowed down. But although she picked up her pace a bit, she didn’t take her attention off the bird. Watching it filled her with a sense of belonging. This was
her
land. Nakos was a stranger and as such unwanted. He and the other Ekewoko should return to Ekew!

But he’d said they couldn’t.

Why?

And why had his leaders commanded him and the other warriors to come to Falcon Land?

“What?” he asked, startling her.

Responding to the second tug on her leash, she glared at her captor. Back when she’d dived into the lake, she’d been so intent on regaining her love of life that she hadn’t cared whether she was naked or dressed. Now, because of
him,
her nudity seemed to stalk her. She felt defined by her lack of clothing.

“I asked you a question.” He stopped and pulled, making it clear that he expected her to join him. “What were you looking at?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re lying.”

By way of response, she turned as far away from him as she could. He could force her to swing back around, of course, but she hoped she’d made her point.

“What is it? You think your
people
are coming to rescue you?”

“
People?
Why do you say it that way, as if we’re less than human? You call us Wildings when you know nothing about us.”

“Tell me, then, starting with what you call yourselves.”

That she’d never willingly do. “It doesn’t matter. What does is that when they surround you, you’ll regret what you’ve done to me—for as long as you live.”

If he was alarmed, he gave no indication as he studied their world. On the verge of laughing at his attempts to see behind boulders and bushes, she tried not to react when he suddenly looked upward. Certainly his eyesight wasn’t as keen as hers but—

“That speck. What is it?”

“I see nothing.”

“Yes, you do!” His hand snaked out and around her throat. Although she resisted, she couldn’t stop him from pulling her against him. They touched from shoulder to hip. “It’s a bird, maybe the same as before.”

“Maybe.”

If she planted her hands against his chest, she might have been able to push away, but somehow it was easier to sink within the contact.

“Something’s happening here.” He sounded a little in awe. “The speed with which you recovered from the poison and that bird—it’s as if it’s following you; us.”

Of course she wouldn’t, but she was tempted to tell him what it meant to be a Falcon. Instead, she let his strength enter her. What she felt went beyond sexual awareness. It was deeper somehow, a tentative joining of two people with nothing in common.

“I didn’t want to come here,” he told her. “I did because I would never refuse to follow my lord’s lead, but I don’t understand why this place we call Screaming Wind means so much to him and Tau. I still don’t.”

“Tau?”

“Our shaman.”

From the little he’d said, she’d concluded that they’d been forced to leave Ekew. Born and raised in Falcon Land—or Screaming Wind, as he called it—she couldn’t imagine ever living anywhere else.

But if he forced her to leave…

Alarmed, she straightened. He didn’t pull her back against him, but neither did his grip on the leash relax. Looking at the man who was so close that his features blurred, she again wondered if she simply hated him. She’d expected him to be a monster, a beast. But there were so many layers to him.

“Your lord,” she tried. “Are you taking me to him?”

“Yes.”

“And Tau?”

“Yes.”

Soon she’d be turned over to other men, and they might indeed be monsters or beasts. If she’d been truly human, the thought would have terrified her. As it was, she had to tamp down fear, yet she told herself that she was grateful for what he’d just told her. Knowing what he planned for her future made it easier to shrug off her conflicted emotions. She and Nakos were enemies, nothing more.

“Aren’t you going to ask me what Sakima wants of you?” he questioned.

“Sakima?”

“My lord, and the man who took me from boy to adult.”

There, another layer to this complex man. “I don’t have to,” she evaded. “I know.”

Shaking his head, he wrapped his fingers around the rope holding her hands together and lifted. “You can’t possibly know what his or Tau’s intentions are, because they haven’t confided in us yet. Tell me something, Jola. Why are you naked?”

“I’m a Wilding. Do you expect anything different?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Maybe I—wanted to get close to myself,” she blurted, “To feel the sun everywhere.”

“And that would, what, make you feel more alive?”

Surprised by his perception, she said nothing. Falcon Land was a place of great contrasts, but most travelers didn’t note those contrasts. The mostly flat terrain struck most of those who traveled through it as monotonous, even barren, but she’d spent her life appreciating the nuances of color and the impact of each season. She couldn’t help wondering if Nakos would ever see it the way she did.

Probably not, especially if he soon left, taking her with him.