Love Charms (80 page)

“I
wouldn’t imagine, no,” he intoned thoughtfully.

Taking
his time mulling over something he looked back down at her. “You will suffice,”
he stated, with a wave of his hand he gestured for her to follow. He went to
the tent flap, exiting in a pace that seemed relaxed for him, but was brisk for
her shorter limbs.

Excitement
spurred her on, however, and she had no issue keeping up with his pace. She
stayed a step and a half behind him and just to the side at all times, trailing
him like she had so many others before, ready to aid him and yet giving him
total control over all.

“My
Lord, is it true that the others will have free reign with me when we finish?”
she asked, his acceptance of her brightening her entire face despite the dark thought.

One
unmistakable thing was that this time, unlike her arrival to the tent, the
savages at his command not only averted their eyes, they were all prone before
him. The first to notice his exiting his tent had set off a wave of like
action, and as they re-entered the palace, it was uncanny. Never before had she
seen such frightful obedience in all her years serving the royal family.

The old
King had obedience, but nothing so deeply rooted as this.

Taking
a different route through the ruins of the palace he spoke to her sparingly,
“Your future remains to be seen,” he stated simply. She had trouble guessing
where he was leading her. When finally they emerged out onto a small garden
area, reserved for the royal families’ quiet breakfasts overlooking the city,
she noticed the place was better composed than the rest.

The
flowers were untrampled, the gazebo still stood. It was like a quiet center of
the storm about the palace, untouched by the fury of the northerners. There he
stood, magnificent but so oddly out of place, as he felt out of place wherever
he was, like a being from another plane of existence.

Her
eyes moved around, and her shoulders relaxed as they arrived, “I’m glad you
ordered this place untouched,” she murmured as she took a daring step nearer to
the strange, godlike man with his otherworldly form. She was a fair bit shorter
than he, though she was fairly tall for a lady. Her eyes twinkled with perverse
delight at being alone with him, yet her heart raced with fear and desire, the
two emotions whorling together and becoming one.

Though
she hadn’t been so frightened and cowed as the others, she knew what that hefty
shaft could do to her, and her stomach turned in excitement as she dropped once
more to her knees. Her hands reached for him, then faltered, “Do you prefer to
tell me what you’d wish of me, My Lord?”

Her new
dark king looked permanently consumed with matters of another realm, always
seeming to be concerned with things beyond mere mortals understanding. Looking
to her as she knelt before him, he took his time before answering. “You’re a
curious woman. You don’t resist your fate at all, do you?” he asked, not
seeming to expect an answer. He didn’t seem to be used to carrying on
conversations with women, or perhaps it was people, at all in fact.

“If my
fate were unwelcome, I would resist. You are not unwelcome to me,” she
breathed, and he could see her chest rise and fall more rapidly beneath the
burgundy gown.

“Are
you used to serving like this?” he asked more meaningfully. “Did someone train
you for a life on your knees before a man?” Despite his hard, husky words, she
saw that hefty bulge twitch to life before her, the leather audibly straining
as reacted to her.

“No, My
Lord,” she admitted. She had many lovers growing up, but none who were above
her. None who deserved her. Her eyes dipped from his, trailing over his stomach
and then further down, and she could swear her mouth was beginning to salivate
in anticipation.

Studying
the olive skinned servant, he took a step closer to her, lifting his hand from
beneath his cloak and resting it upon her head. The man was so large her head
seemed to fit in his palm snugly, and so strong and magnificently built, she
would swear he could crush her skull if he wished.

“You
have served your princess then as a servant,” he stated rather than asked, “and
not as the King’s amusement or plaything.” His heavy hand pet her sleek black
hair, the weight of it pushing her towards his bulging loins until she was
nearly pressed to it, the smell of leather and musk rich in her sinuses, and
utterly pleasant.

“I
never wished nor consented to serve a man in such a manner, My Lord, until I
saw you.” The words were completely genuine, and she shook a little as she said
them. She wanted him, and she feared only that he would find her displeasing
and send her away. She licked over her pinkened lips, “I am malleable to your
whims, and be taught to please you best.” Her desire made the words come out as
a begged request as her green eyes met his, feeling so safe in his monstrous
hand.

If he
wished her dead, then she would only be pleased it was at a god’s hands.

Perhaps
if she thought with a clear head, she would realize how extreme her reaction to
this man was, but there was no such moment of pause to escape the reality of kneeling
before a God-King of the north.

Licking
along his own full lips, the dark man brought his free hand to the gap between
them, his fingers undoing some strap as he spoke, “You’re a brazen woman,” he
stated firmly. “None of the Ka’reem”—a term for the northern savages
nobody within Ariste had previously cared to use for the
barbarians—“would dare speak to me so blatantly as you have. And none of
the weak southerners can muster more than screams or cowering.”

With
the strap undone, his leather audibly groaned as it gave way to his heated
flesh. The tension unfurled, his heavy cock toppled free, its shaft gloriously
long and hard, thick veins ribbing its length as it struck her face,
contrasting so darkly against her.

Her
gasp was one of appreciation and as that heavy slab of masculinity rested
against her flesh, her lashes fluttered down. “If I displease you, I will
correct my behaviour,” she promised, and her dainty fingers worked to his cock,
grasping him and getting a feel for his size and heft. “I would kill my own
mother to be able to gratify and breed for you. It would be the greatest
honour,” she muttered, barely even hearing herself any longer as her fingers
pushed back his foreskin, her eyes riveted to that thick, otherworldly cock.

Never
had she seen one so large and perfectly sculpted, and if she had ever doubted
his godliness, it was completely disappeared now. He was perfect.

The
dark man’s brows raised as he watched her reverentially stroke his shaft. He
was surprised, and it showed, for he didn’t appear to be a man who was often
caught off guard.

Slowly
he resumed stroking her hair, “You’d do that willingly. Breed me an heir
without complaint,” though his voice was so dark and husky, she could detect
that slight hint of surprise lining his words. “Other women are offered up to
me, but even they cringe in fear of me. Fear what they shall birth, no matter
how much their loved ones talk of the honour and privilege.”

“Then
they don’t understand the honour of breeding a demi-god, My Lord,” she purred,
and the way she caressed his cock against the soft flesh of her cheek spoke so
much affection and devotion. She still hadn’t licked it, but she worshiped that
pillar of strength with such adoring touches.

“If
they don’t understand the privilege, then they are too daft to be worthy of
you,” she rubbed him against her jaw and a light tress of hair grazed against
his divine flesh. “I am not worthy of you, but I wish for your child to be.”

Virile
as he was, her words and caresses made the giant give a low growl of desire. It
sounded divine from him, darkly divine. It was the first crack in his composed
veneer she’d yet to see, and it was from stoking desire in him for her.

His
strong fingers curled in her hair, taking hold of her head by the dark strands
and with the ease of his might began to rub her cheek against his heated shaft
even further. “It is a shame you weren’t the princess,” he mused gruffly, that
hard voice of his lower, more seductive as she watched his glorious muscles
swell and rise with his increased breathing.

Her own
breath was baited as she revelled in it all, in his touch, in the feel of his
flesh as it moved against her and filled her with such need. She had never felt
anything close to this before, and her lip trembled with the power of her lust.
“I’m sorry she will not serve you well. She will cry, and complain, and to
break her will be lovely but it will not be a challenge.”

Those
words elicited a brief chuckle of amusement from the ebon giant, and he pushed
her face down further, until she was nestled beneath that shaft, his hefty
balls pressed to her chin. Releasing her from his hold he stroked her hair
again, the morning breeze washing over them both as she knelt before him. “You
are no noble born, that much is obvious.”

“I do
not care for pride and useless people,” she said, her lips grazing against the
flesh at the base of the cock, and she found it impossible to resist any
longer. Her motions were so small and tentative, but fuelled by lust and need
of an intensity she had never felt before. Her breath was a sweet wash over his
member as her tongue pressed out, grazing across his skin.

She
moaned at the first taste of his flesh, and she writhed beneath him, getting
closer as his cock throbbed atop her face. It was undignified, but she cared
not for such concerns. She just wanted to please her god.

With a
light intake of breath, her tongue had an effect upon him. That thick shaft
twitched and the mighty lord throbbed against her face. But a day ago she was a
middle-aged servant to a prissy princess; today she was a concubine to a
God-King that seemed to appreciate her efforts at least more than her former
mistress had.

Breathing
heavily, he watched her every little motion as she lavished his manhood with
her affections. “Neither do I,” he said at last, his voice heavy with desire.

Her
mouth began to join her tongue, kissing against him as her lips tried to
encompass the circumference of his hard, aroused cock. Every vein she traveled
to its conclusion, and he could tell she was doing nothing to speed his way to
his end. Whereas others might, in their fear and loathing, be hurried for his
cum, she was taking her time.

Her
concern for his pleasure, and her need for him to enjoy outweighed all. Her
hands and mouth worked in tandem to feel out those glorious, pulsing veins and
the soft flesh that covered the iron hardness of his cock. “If I were smarter,
perhaps I would fear what you could do to me with such a weapon,” she purred,
but her words were nothing short of ecstatic. “Instead, the desire kept burning
in me through the night. If I am not at my best, I apologize. Thoughts of
you...” she moaned and shut herself up by curling her tongue along the shaft of
his cock.

His
harsh breathing grown so heavy, he yanked her face off his cock from its
worship, his mouth open, his lips glossy from having licked at them with his
hunger. “Show me your flesh,” he commanded of her, those thick courtly servants
robes now a distasteful hindrance from letting the mighty God-King see her in
her fullness.

Her fingers
worked diligently and it was only a moment before the heavy material slipped
back from her shoulders and pooled at her feet. She was suddenly grateful for
the quick trip she had taken back in the Princess’ room to shed herself of her
undergarments. She had understood all too readily what would be expected of
her, and her firm, feminine curves were revealed to his hungry eyes.

She
stood unmoving, encouraging him to look at her, to stare at the weight of her
breasts and the light brown nipples peaked atop them, and the light bit of
black hair that shielded her sex from him. Her curves were prominent and her
hips were ample, as if made to bare his children. Her hand moved to her hair
and removing a couple of the pins, she let the silky, black strands down around
her olive shoulders, the straight tresses laid delicately atop her aroused
breasts. Her hair was down to the middle of her back, yet she ensured that none
of it hid her body from him.

“I can
only dream that I please you, despite my lowly status. But then, we are all
lowly compared to you,
My
Lord. Even that is too good for us, as it
denotes our ownership of you. Your Greatness,” she sighed as her eyes fell,
“Shall I turn for you?”

Something
she had said or done, or perhaps it was just her beauty, set him off.

The
giant barbarian warlord grabbed for her, took hold of her neck and pulled her
in as he lunged down, pushing a hard kiss to her mouth. It was such a
passionate embrace of their lips, and the heat of his manhood jabbed in against
her stomach as he forced his tongue into her mouth so deeply.

With a
hungry growl he broke their kiss and took hold of her by her hip. “Your sweet
words hide a sweeter form,” he husked to her with almost venomous desire. The
hungry man pushed her back towards the soapstone table upon which the royal
family had eaten so many breakfasts over the years, pressing her against it so
that she had to rest back on its cool stone surface.