The Earth King’s Bounty (2 page)

The light in his eyes caught fire, his hands tightening on her, and for the first time Ninia felt his power; blunt tipped hands so broad they could span the entirety of her hips, a grip like stone itself. He dipped his head between her thighs and Ninia cried out - his mouth covered the whole of her sex, his breath burning hot where no man had ever touched her, his tongue sliding wet across hidden lips. Ninia was caught with her mouth open, a cry bursting from her throat; she had thought herself at least partially educated with the memories of animal couplings in the field, had been prepared for the sight of him erect, but nothing had prepared her for this.

His tongue spread her open, slipping slick between the lips of her sex. Thick, she thought with a touch of hysteria - surely as thick as any of the young men of her village would be erect, a broad muscle that speared through her folds and forced them apart. The fire became an inferno, sweeping up through her, melting belly and breasts and the muscles of her thighs until she was grasping at him for support, shaking at the mercy of the sensations he awoke in her.

Until it stopped, the sudden lack drawing another cry from her, the touch of the air against her sex chilled and unwelcome. She could hear her own voice, the rough pant of her breath as though she had run far and fast, the pleas she hadn't even been aware of - "Please, please, my king..."

The god's lips shone slickly wet in the light, darker and thicker than before, and the snake of his tongue across those lips held her mesmerized with an ache that echoed all through her. "My queen," he said lowly, rough and deep as the churned earth beneath them, his gaze catching hers, "should never beg."

Ninia froze and for one heavy, frantic beat of her racing heart she was mortal, a shivering girl about to break on the displeasure of her god, ready to throw herself at his feet, ready to bite her tongue rather than anger him, awed and cowed and ashamed. It was there and gone, like so much dross burned away on the fire stoked inside of her, a fire that raged against the cold his sudden lack of attention left her in. She was fire, the sun to his earth, and her fingers, buried in the thick vines that covered his skull, tightened.

She was his queen, his desire was for her, and the depth of his eyes held a challenge, one that turned his lips up in a wild, feral smile when she hauled his head back between her thighs to press her sex to his open mouth. "Don't stop," she heard her own voice growl, breathless and full of need. "Ai, my king, don't stop!"

He gave her what she demanded, tongue pressed deep, licking into her. He sucked at the lips of her sex and spread them wide with the slick muscle of his tongue, licking up in hard, flicking swathes across the nub that fanned fire through her, until her knees were weak and her thighs trembling. His hands, broad enough to span her whole waist, came to rest on the curves of her ass, the strength of his fingers digging into her skin to knead and spread her wider open. Ninia curled over his broad shoulders, shaking, her breath coming in ragged gasps, and if she had begged before she demanded now - don’t stop, more, harder, the words falling from her without conscious thought as he pressed his tongue impossibly deeper into her virgin entrance. She ground her sex against her god’s mouth, smearing the dripping fluid of her desire over his cheeks and chin as she cried out, waves of hot, tight pleasure breaking through her until her whole being pulsed with the clenching rhythm between her legs.

When she came back to herself the god had caught her in truth, hands spread across the small of her back, effortlessly holding her and easing her still trembling body down to the churned ground beneath them. The heat still curled within her - her breasts felt heavy, their tips tight and peaked where they rubbed against his flesh as he slid her down, the touch making her shudder as her sex throbbed.

Sun warmed earth pressed against her back, the scent of fresh dirt clean and heady but unable to wash away the thicker scent of bodies and sex that clung between them. She caught handfuls of the earth between her fingers as broad hands pushed her thighs apart, pressing up and in until her hips lifted, her spine curved and her still aching sex was bared to the blue sky above and to the dark, heated gaze of the god that pinned her beneath him. Ninia shuddered with the sensation, feeling the burn of the stretch through her thighs, the way it spread the lips of her sex open beneath his eyes, and the way her core was still clenching hungrily in arrhythmic bursts punctuated with hot, wet pulses that trickled wet and warm down the crease of her ass.

Eyes of jade and earth caught hers, the wild heat in his gaze forcing her to watch, unable to look away, as he slowly lowered himself down between her widespread thighs. Thrust out before him, his cock touched her sex before any of the rest of him, the thick, heavy weight of it coming to rest like a heated iron bar across the open lips of her mound. It rested there between them, the huge flushed tip spearing upwards almost as though it rose from the wet curls of her own sex, as though it might belong to either of them, a shared secret of pleasure nestled between the cup of their joined bodies.

He let her thighs go, let her legs fold naturally around the angles of his waist as though they belonged there, captor and captured. His hands came to rest in the thick dirt at her sides as he leaned forward, blocking out the sun above her, the brightness of it casting a halo of light all around the ridges and curls of his braided vines. His lips curved in a smile, then curled further to bare white teeth and the tip of his tongue as he drew in a slow, deep breath through his mouth. "My queen," he rasped, and it was no imagination on her part that put that rough, breathless note to his voice, "will you open the way?"

It wasn't one of the ritual phrases, nothing that had been passed down to each maiden, nothing that she knew how to respond to. But as he said it he moved, pressing up against her in a smooth stroke that dragged the length of his cock up over her sex, a long rasp of fire up her spine as he rubbed himself between her open lips and against the nub of her clit. The head of his cock wetly nudged the skin above her navel, the long, heavy breadth of him pressing her from sex to halfway up her stomach, more than half the length and thickness of her own forearm.

He repeated it, a slow thrust, press, and rocking motion that made Ninia cling to him, her legs wrapped around his hips, pressing up into each stroke. By the time she caught the rhythm of it, her whole body undulating unconsciously with the motion, his cock gleamed wetly between them. The dusky shade of his skin was deeper still and wet with her desire. Watering the fields, she thought as she watched his shaft surge up across her belly and retreat once more, her whole sex burning with the need for more. The glistening head that nudged at her belly was wet, pearly beads of dew welling up from the tip. Her breath came ragged and it wasn’t enough any more just to lay beneath him, moving with him. Digging her shoulders into the dirt, she pressed her heels to the small of his back and lifted herself up more, curling, to chase after his next thrust.

His nostrils flared, something like a growl escaping him as his cock slipped upwards between the dripping lips of her sex, the width of him spreading her wide around his girth. If he had been slick before, now he was soaked; Ninia cried out, panting, feeling the wet rush through her cunt as she rocked her hips upwards to grind her sex in hard strokes against the underside of his erection. The fire was burning through her again, she couldn't have stopped if she had wanted to, but wanting to was the last thing on her mind with white hot streaks of pleasure flaring up from her core. Harder and harder - she was the one thrusting against him now, rubbing and squirming as though her hips had a mind of their own, her breath coming in little sharp pants like an animal trapped at bay.

The god of the fields opened his mouth, teeth bared in a fierce white row, a sound like a groan rising up from deep in his chest. His hands came down on Ninia's arms to pin her to the dirt as he surged over her, his thrusts hard and fast, cock slapping her cunt and belly with wet sounds as he rutted against the wet mound of her sex. Clear drops of liquid beaded up and dripped down from the slit of his erection and where the head rubbed against her navel it left slick streaks behind that trailed across her skin. Ninia clung to him, the whole of her lower back lifted from the ground, hips snapping up to meet each powerful thrust of his until, with a cry, the fire surged up and over her again, shaking her in its grasp as the sensation built up in her sex exploded.

Above her, the god continued thrusting for another handful of counts before he, too, stilled. His answering roar was the sound of rocks cracking, the deep chested bellow of a mature stag in the season of rut; he pushed himself between her legs, his cock jerking against her belly as thick ribbons of milky white seed shot from him, splashing hot against her stomach and up across her breasts, droplets of it pooling hot and viscous against her skin. Where it fell she could feel the heat gathering, like droplets and drizzles flung from a half-cooled kettle.

She was still panting, limp and breathless in the dirt, when he let go of her arms and sat back on his heels between her thighs. His own chest was rising and falling faster but nothing like her gasps, and the strong jut of his erection against her sex was undiminished. His eyes had the heat of sundrenched summer fields in them, the burn of a golden noonday sky reflected from the dark stones of the earth. Reaching out, he pressed one hand just above the mound of her sex, nostrils flaring as he drew in a deeper breath. Ninia held her own breath in her lungs, aching, pinned beneath his gaze and his hands.

His palm moved up, scooping up the still warm splash of his seed that lay beneath her navel and rubbing it, in a slow, slick circle, across the whole of her lower belly. Ninia sucked in a breath, feeling her still aching cunt clench, heat sinking into her skin. The god gathered up another handful of seed, rubbing it all around her navel; where he rubbed it the milky liquid left only a thin sheen, her skin soaking it in eagerly. "The fields are watered," he told her, his voice rumbling through her in notes she could feel in her bones. He thrust almost gently against the nub of her clit, just hard enough to draw a gasp from her lungs, leaning forward to gather up and spread the splashes of seed that had fallen against her ribs. Everywhere he touched was on fire, a warm, steady glow that lit her from the inside out. "The fields are bared. All that remains is the planting."

Ninia was almost sobbing by the time he reached her breasts, his large hands gathering them up in his palms, squeezing and rubbing, the last of his seed massaged into each firm young globe. She arched her back to press into his hands, her breath hissing from her; he lowered his head over first one breast, then the other, exhaling a warm gust over the tight pebbled peak of her nipples. His tongue flicked out, painting a wet stripe over one. Ninia grabbed at the vines of his hair, trying to tug him down, but he pulled away with an upwards quirk of his lips. "Not yet, my queen. The fruits aren't ripe yet." His hand squeezed her breast tight, pulling at it, and let go, only to repeat on the other side. "Bloom for me."

Ninia moaned as he gathered up her breasts, first one, then the other, then back again. His large hands were the skilled touch of a farmer on the tender teats of a young heifer, stroking, coaxing, and the heat that gathered in her breasts and between her legs with each squeeze made her squirm and gasp beneath him. If she had thought her hard pebbled nipples prominent before, it was nothing compared to the proudly upthrust pillars of fiery sensation he tweaked them into, catching them between thumb and forefinger to tug and pinch as his hands squeezed at the flesh of her breasts until she thought she would lose her mind.

She felt dwarfed beneath him, pinned by his weight, the press of his powerful body, his sex and his hands. At the same time his gaze on her, steady and full of heat and desire that were almost reverent, made something swell within her; equal, powerful in her own right, his spring and summer queen of the bursting fields and bountiful crop. That heat, caught inside her beneath her breastbone and pooling through her stomach, made her arch into him, surging into the rhythm his hands created. His sex pressed against hers, the heavy globes of his sack rubbing against her wet lips, his erect staff taunting her where it tapped against her belly.

Her chest was on fire; her breasts felt liquid, molten, filled with an ache that wouldn't subside and a heavy heat that bordered on pain as he caught the jutting tips of her nipples, squeezing, rolling them between thumb and forefinger as he tugged them up and away from her body. Ninia cried out when he let go, feeling the ripple through her flesh as her breasts jostled and settled. They felt heavier, hot and swollen beneath his demanding hands, and she dug her fingers into the loose soil beneath her as he gathered her aching tits up once more. His hand almost engulfed one as he squeezed it, his fingers digging into her soft flesh, igniting the sharp, stinging fire that burst up through her nipple and leapt down to stir the empty, needy ache between her thighs.

She felt it there, first, the clench and pull in her greedy sex taking on a rhythm all its own, one that rushed hot pleasure up through her belly and spine. Ninia moaned, feeling the wet rush of her own fluids soak her god's flesh, cunt grasping at nothing as the pressure of him against her hard, aching nub and the demanding grasp of his hands tipped her over into another peak of sensation. It was slower than his mouth or his rutting but no less powerful, snatching her breath away as her body caught on fire, blooming for him as he commanded.

Sensation through her breasts made her cry out, pulsing with that strange heavy feeling in the same rhythm as her sex. It surged through her and burst, at last, from the tips of her breasts in a bright fountain of pleasure that manifested as liquid, thin and milky and warm, that sprayed upwards in tiny streams from her red, swollen nipples.

The god bent over her, his hot mouth sealing to one breast, and Ninia screamed her pleasure to the sky as he suckled at her. That firm tongue that had wreaked such havoc between her thighs stroked a hot, wet stripe over her nipple, pressing and swirling.
Lapping
, Ninia thought, and oh, gods and ancestors, he was
drinking
from her, she could feel him suck and swallow. She could feel her breasts swelling with life, could see the streams of milk that ran down over his fingers and her skin alike as his hand continued to squeeze and milk the tit his mouth wasn't on. The feel was unlike anything she could have imagined, the hot fire of her pleasure peaking and bursting only to swell again as he licked her breast clean and gave his attention to the other. Ninia was sobbing with it, clinging to his broad shoulders, her fingers tangled in the thick vines across his scalp as her whole body convulsed in wave after wave of sensation.