Carnal Sacrifice (9 page)

“Come for me,” he said, his voice suddenly dark and demanding. Just like when he’d made her his slave. “Come for me
 
now
.”

What I say, you do.
 
His earlier words rushed over her on the heels of the command—and so she came. Hard, her heart threatening to burst from her chest, her pussy throbbing forcefully as the pure delight of sex roared through her, unstoppable. She screamed at each pulse, with no thought of anyone hearing, no thought that anyone in the world existed but the two of them.

“Ah Ares,” he bit off just as she was easing down from it, and his thrusts  transformed into lunges—hot, powerful lunges that might have hurt if she hadn’t  welcomed them so much, wanting all her man had to give her. “I’m coming!” he yelled.  “I’m coming in you!” And then Laela knew a whole
 
new
 
kind of joy, that of taking him  to the same place he’d just delivered her.

With a mighty sigh, he slumped down on her, chest to chest. On impulse, she lifted  a kiss to his stubbled cheek, even as she sensed him falling into sleep, that quickly.

Thank you
, she thought, looking at him.
 
Thank you for saving me.
 
He might have  made her a slave, but she also felt he’d saved her very life tonight, in more ways than  she could even yet comprehend.

* * * * *

When the sunlight glancing through the crack in the closed shutters woke Laela the next morning, she lay alone in the bed. All evidence of what had happened the night before remained—her dress lying unkempt around her waist, the bindings from her braid strewn on the fur bed covering—but her lover was gone and a feeling of uneasiness had taken his place.

Slowly, she adjusted her dress, covering her nakedness, and went to the small wash basin against one wall, splashing a bit of cool water on her face. She glanced about for a viewing glass, anxious to see herself with her hair falling free around her shoulders. But when she didn’t find one anywhere in the room, she remembered that such luxuries were not nearly so common beyond the walls of a lavish fortress. Of course, she’d seen

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herself with her hair down before, but just never outside her bedchamber, never out in  the world where the loose locks truly signified something.

Making her way gingerly to the door, she eased it open to find the outer tavern  room in total disarray from the previous night, the tables scattered with half-empty  goblets and covered with spilled ale, not yet dried. Ares, what a mess!

When the outer door suddenly burst open, both Garon and Baelor walked in,  laughing. Baelor ate a slice of fruit bread so fresh she could smell the fruits and spices  from across the room. Garon toted a small cloth bag in one hand.

“Glad to see you’re awake,” he said matter-of-factly as his gaze pinned her in place,  just as sexual as the night before. Her pussy spasmed softly beneath her dress, just from  that. “I’ve brought a fresh loaf of bread for breakfast, but you’ll have to eat while you  work. First you’ll clear and wash the goblets, then you’ll need to scrub the tables and  sweep the floor.”

She blinked. “Me?” So much for sex and spasms.

He lowered his chin as if to chide her. “This place won’t clean itself, princess. And  we have an arrangement, if you recall.”

She drew in her breath and tried to look tougher than she felt at the moment. He  might call her a princess, yet just now she felt like anything but. “Yes, of course. I just  thought the other two women…”

He and Baelor exchanged light grins. “They are both sleeping off a very long night  in Baelor’s bed up the way.” He pointed vaguely northward. “Since
 
you’re
 
here, there’s  no need to disturb them, and it will save me what I would normally pay them to do the  job.”

She forced an awkward nod.
 
You agreed to this. What he says, you do. You’re not a little girl anymore, nor a royal daughter.
 
“Of course.”

Seeming pleased by her simple reply, Garon reached in his sack and drew out a steaming hot loaf, the same fruit bread Baelor ate, and passed it into her arms. “Knives are in that cabinet,” he said, pointing toward the corner of the room. “Slice up our breakfast.”

Laela felt a bit wooden as she found a blade and proceeded to cut crooked pieces of bread. She’d never performed such a task before—up to now, everything had always been done
for
 
her. And it wasn’t that Garon was being
 
cold
 
to her exactly, but certainly one would never guess the two of them had shared such intimacies the previous night.  She’d imagined a much…
warmer
 
reception when she’d departed the bedroom looking for him, and she couldn’t quell the disappointment flowing through her.

A few minutes later, she served the bread with goblets of water on a wooden platter. Garon picked up the first slice of bread, examining it closely, then glanced at  Baelor before looking back to her, his eyes tinged with amusement. “Your first time in a kitchen, I presume.”

She nodded.

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“You’ll get better at it. Now eat and get to work.”

She drew in her breath at the command, growing more miffed by the second, but  then she remembered the alternative—doing with the old man Ogran what she’d done  last night with Garon. To avoid
 
that
 
fate, she would happily clean the tavern from top to  bottom and put up with a bit of gruffness, as well.

“The new look of your hair becomes you,” Baelor said.

She turned to find the young man wearing a knowing grin, a grin which reminded  her that out here, outside the fortress, sex was commonplace, nothing secretive. It didn’t  matter that what she’d shared with Garon had felt profound and moving to her—out  here, everyone had sex with everyone else. So she couldn’t blush or act shy. Instead, she  summoned a smile and tried her best to look alluring. “I…enjoyed letting Garon take it  down for me.”

“So I heard.”

And to Laela’s surprise, the very act of acknowledging sex with Garon to his friend made her feel…provocative, both excited and exciting. The earlier tingling sensation between her legs returned, soft but potent, and her nipples tightened under the silk.

She flashed a look at her lover, her…master, she supposed, imagining him sharing the details of their bedplay with Baelor. Yesterday, the notion would have embarrassed her, but today…well, today, everything was different. Envisioning the two men discussing her body and what Garon had done with her only intensified the flow of heat that currently rushed through her nether regions.

Out here, sex was simply…sex. She might
 
want
 
it to be more, but that was one more luxury she didn’t possess, and she’d have to get used to doing without
 
any
 
luxuries from this point forward. In the meantime, she’d just gained a new, rather delicious understanding of how to…well, how to
 
appreciate
 
it for what it was. For with even this most subtle of discussions about it, the air in the room had grown hotter, along with  Laela’s cunt. Obviously,
 
everything
 
about sex with Garon thrilled her—even having him share it with his friend.

Such sensual amusement laced Garon’s gaze that she almost wondered if he could read her mind. “Get to work and be a good little tavern maid today,” he said, “and maybe tonight I’ll give you some new things to enjoy.”

* * * * *

It was perhaps the longest day of Laela’s life. She’d had no notion of how hard the maids in the fortress worked to keep things in order. And her work, it turned out, wasn’t done when the outer room was clean and ready to open again for business that night. The moment she finished
 
that
 
work, Garon instructed her to tidy up the bedroom, as well, and then to wash the rags and drying cloths used the previous night in the tavern in a big wooden tub behind the building.

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It was nearly nightfall when she emptied the dirty water and stepped back inside.  Garon sat in a chair at one of the long tables, his feet propped atop it. He’d already lit thick candles to illuminate the tavern for the evening and, in the dim glow, his eyes glittered with open sensuality.

“How was your day, princess?” He used the words, accompanied by a smile, to tease her. She’d made the mistake of thinking he wasn’t arrogant, but he
 
was
 
—about some things. About his control over her, definitely.

“Tiring, but fine.”

He looked impressed by her fortitude, tipping his head back slightly. “Well, Sima and Janya will be here soon to serve the ale and entertain the customers. You should get some rest.” He hiked a thumb toward the bedroom.

Thankful for the respite, she nodded.

Then another wicked grin spread across his handsome face. “Don’t sleep
 
too
 
deeply, though, princess. I’ll be waking you later to entertain
 
me
.”

Despite her weariness, Laela let that promise fuel her and discovered she was not too exhausted to wish for more sex with him. She even managed a small smile, replying, “I shall let anticipation give me sweet dreams.” She departed the room reveling in the sensations that took hold of her body when Garon looked at her with hungry eyes.

Garon watched her go, her green skirt fluttering with the sway of her pretty ass as she left the tavern room. She’d surprised him, working so hard with never a complaint.  It at once raised his opinion of her and irritated him. For had she complained, he could have grown angry with her, thought her a spoiled little royal not worthy of his concern.  He could have cancelled their agreement and thrown her out. As it was, it only added to his growing respect for the girl.

All the more reason to remember she’s your slave and treat her that way.

He couldn’t soften toward her—it was bad enough he was letting her stay. But so long as he kept his distance—emotionally—no problems would arise. A sensible man simply didn’t start caring for his ruler’s runaway daughter—only madness and regret could come of it.

Damnation, a sensible man didn’t let himself care for
 
any
 
woman. The first—and last—woman he’d cared for had run away with another man, a man who could give her finer dresses and a better home than he could. Now, he possessed much more than he’d had then, but still preferred living simply, spending his earnings only on things he needed.

He’d learned his lesson when his former lover had left him, learned there was no gain to be had from putting trust in a female, letting himself love someone—and the fact that Laela was on the run from Enrick, Ruler of Caralon, only made her that much more forbidden.

Of course, he’d already dipped into that forbidden nectar last night—and what a

sweet, hot dip it had been. But sex—and work—was
 
all
 
he planned to take from her.

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And as for tonight’s taking, he had special plans for the girl. Plans that would remind both of them that she was his sex slave, and that he was her master.

He glanced toward the door she’d just disappeared through.
 
Rest well, princess, for last night was gentle, but tonight you will know what it is to truly be a man’s plaything.

* * * * *

The creak of the bedroom door jarred Laela from sleep. All was dark, even outside the room, the tavern quiet and still. Nearby, the flame of a candle flickered to life until she saw her lover gazing down on her, his face in shadow. He had come for her. And she was so very ready. Just as she had predicted, she had dreamed of him, dreamed of his touches, of his kisses, and now she wanted even more of him than her dreams had supplied.

But when a bit of movement across the room drew her eye back to the door, she glanced over to find Baelor stepping inside, as well. Still in a state of half sleep, she struggled desperately to wrap her mind around the situation as Garon sat down on the bed next to her, splaying his large hand across her stomach.

She looked up at him, bold arousal flaring through her from the touch, his palm warm through the thin silk. As he bent to kiss her, long, deep, his tongue mingling with hers, he slid his hand up the fabric of her dress to close over her breast. The caress made her sigh, sensation trickling from her chest all the way down to her pussy, which had been aching for him, despite her weariness. And the heat somehow deepened even more when she again caught sight of dark-haired Baelor lowering himself into a simple wooden chair near the door.

Even so, she closed her hands around Garon’s forearms, pushing him back lightly.  “Why is…why is Baelor here?”

Garon’s gaze turned hard on her, possessive. “You are my slave, remember?”

Despite the long day of work just past, the darkness of his voice, his words, dug deep inside her, touching her intimately. She nodded.

“You do what I say. Don’t you recall agreeing to that?”

“Yes, of course, and willingly. But why is…what is…?” She looked back to Baelor, whose eyes shone glassy with lust as Garon pulled her dress off one shoulder, revealing one plump breast, the nipple pink and erect. More unbidden excitement shuddered through her at knowing Baelor saw, yet still she looked back to Garon, seeking to understand.