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Xia patted the neck of the animal she rode as the stallion slowed to a trot. Stealing a few horses and raiding a nearby settlement for supplies had been easy. Thunder, her recently acquired steed, had warmed to her right away. Thinking back, the real work had been escaping from aboard the ship where she and three other warrior women of her clan had been held.
She gritted her teeth, still angry every time her thoughts were invaded by memories of the Greek pirates who had taken her and her friends captive. She hated their faces, especially the tall man with the foul breath and hook nose. He had taunted her with the crew’s plans to sell them as slaves but Xia would have died before allowing her story to unfold that way. When her life under the great blue sky was over, she intended for those who knew her to sing of how she had lived fully and freely on the back of a horse, weapon in hand as she rode. Her gaze dropped onto the faint marks healing on her wrists from where she’d rubbed her skin raw while ridding herself of the ropes the sailors had used to bind her hands behind her back before stowing her below deck.
Once she freed herself and liberated her friends, they’d fought like animals, and she’d wiped the smug look right off the bad-breathed pirate’s face when she’d broken his beak. A tiny smile turned up the sides of her lips as she recalled the cracking sound as her boot connected with his face. Those bastards had squealed like pigs when she and her second-in-command had pitched them overboard. She and her crew of female warriors had taken over the ship and reclaimed all the gear those men had stolen from them. Damn bandits had taken everything but their horses, right down to the decorative saddles and adornments the women had bestowed on their cherished animals.
“What are you smirking about?” Kepes hitched an eyebrow.
“Our epic adventure at sea.” Xia chuckled.
Kepes groaned. “We should have kept someone alive who knew how to sail home. The best we could do was try to steer away from sudden death.”
“Us?” Xia laughed louder. “You looked green-faced by the time we made landfall.” Her friend had spent a lot of time with her head hanging over the side of the ship, but she was correct. Xia hadn’t been certain of exactly how far away the currents had taken them but she was smart enough to realize how unlikely seeing home or the rest of her tribe again was. The only bright side of being dragged away from her people was the good fortune of having been taken with the three warriors who meant the most to her.
Xia’s steed stopped to graze. As places went, the area where they landed wasn’t so bad—at least the climate was warm enough and there seemed to be plenty of game to hunt. Between the seashore and the area where they’d made camp, they’d passed three main settlements, and they’d pillaged them all on their way through. The first one had been a small fishing village. With most of the men out to sea, the weak women—untrained in the arts of battle—were easy pickings. Xia and her comrades had ridden in, shooting a few flaming arrows at fence posts and hay bales, and those homebodies snatched up their children, ran liked scalded cats and hid, leaving her raiding party to take whatever they’d wanted.
Next, they had hit a large farming community, ripe with loot. Though some of the homes were protected by brawny men made strong from hard work, most of them were not well armed and all of them were on foot. Even the few who were capable of mounting a horse weren’t expert riders and were no match against four seasoned horsewomen pulling a grab-and-run at dusk, a time when the townsfolk were pulling their boots off to relax after a long day of tilling and toiling in their precious dirt.
Xia’s nostrils flared and she frowned as she contemplated how anyone could live tethered to one spot like a hobbled mare. She didn’t understand those people but she didn’t despise them either. Now those who lived in the settlement to the east...they were the kind of people she hated the most. They were Scythians by blood but not hard-riding nomads like the people of Xia’s tribe. These Scythians were a bunch of rich traders who had long ago left the saddle to stand still and grow fat and weak. They were traitors to the nomadic way of life, though she could hardly say they were stupid.
After Xia and her friends had sacked the fishing village, the wealthy Scythians had sent Xia and her warriors an offering of sorts...a few good-looking, virile, young men. Xia appreciated the Scythians’ strategy—they’d hoped the handsome men might be able to seduce her and her friends into joining their village. But as tempting as their hard bodies had been, she and her fellow horsewomen would never be dominated by men or trapped inside the stones and mortar of a stationary abode. Xia smiled, remembering how exciting playing with those men for a while had been. They had shown up at a time when she and her warriors needed the release, especially Kepes. That one had become so restless, she couldn’t seem to take her hand out of her trousers, even while she was riding. Xia, Scyleia, Micah, and Kepes had met with those men several days in a row, had rolled around in the grass with them, and had ridden them hard, but soon enough the wind and the great blue sky started calling Xia and her girls. The saddle and the road were their home.
* * * * *
AFTER SPENDING NEARLY two days walking along the river with the sun against his back, D’Jwan had reached his destination, the ancient temple of his grandmother’s people, which stood among a vast sea of green grass. The days had been long and the evening cold, leaving him dirty and weary. His grandmother had been a young girl when she had left this land and remembered little of its charms but she did often speak of running through multitudes of short grass stretching as far as the eye could see in every direction. From what he had observed, her recollection had been accurate.
D’Jwan’s only companion was Malka, a farmhand his uncle had insisted he take with him. Malka was a man of many years though not so many he had become short of step or slow of sense. The dull-colored, short tunica Malka wore suited his stocky frame, though he may have been better off in this terrain if he had traded his sandals for some boots like the ones D’Jwan wore. As the hours had slipped by, the older man had seemed to rely more heavily on the walking staff he carried, and just as D’Jwan had feared, Malka’s labored stride had started to slow them down. On the other hand, the old man’s good temperament and his quickness with a jest or amusing pun had kept the journey from becoming too tedious or lonely. But he remained miffed his uncle believed he needed to be looked after like a child.
“It would appear we have arrived at our destination.” D’Jwan pointed out the ruins of the old temple visible on the horizon.
“Excellent, young master. I will check out the shrine before back-tracking to camp closer to the river but I shall return by midday tomorrow.”
“I was unaware of your interest in my grandmother’s goddess.” He lifted an eyebrow his lips pressed into a line as he crossed his arms over his chest.
Malka smiled at him while answering, “I simply want to evaluate the safety of the structure before leaving you.”
Learning exactly what he had already suspected, D’Jwan’s nostrils flared as he frowned. Sternly, he spoke, “I am no babe at the breast. Grandmother’s instructions were clear. The ritual I am to perform is intended to be a solitary endeavor. I would see you head back now.”
“But young master,” the older man began before his gazed locked with D’Jwan’s. Malka sighed but acquiesced. “By your command.”
He watched Malka walk away before he made his way over to the temple. After removing the bundle from his pack mule, D’Jwan hobbled the animal to a small post he had to hammer into the ground himself. He would not dare defile the temple of his grandmother’s goddess by tethering a beast to the sacred stones. Old and little more than a partial building missing half its roof, the sanctuary was no larger than a two-room hut, comprised of dusty, stacked stones, slowly turning to rubble. Three corners of the structure still stood but the fourth had crumbled, caving in a good portion of the roof, yet the crudely carved statues surrounding the place gave off a strong air of spiritual power.
Cautiously, he entered, his robust legs and large feet stepping surely while he scanned all the cracks and crevices for snakes, scorpions or any other unwanted company. As luck would have it, one corner of the temple remained intact enough to provide shade and shelter, and a dugout pit nearby would allow for a fire next to his bedroll during the evening. After placing the sparse possessions he had carried with him down in the back most corner, D’Jwan headed outside to tend to his mule, providing her with some water before returning and beginning to set up his supplies. Opening his satchel, he removed everything he would need, starting with a portion of bread and a wineskin filled with water.
Grandmother had been clear in her warning: “Go not into the spirit land light of food or drink.”
He pinched off small portions, eating the heavy, barley-grained loaf until his stomach was full and then he drank half of his remaining water.
After placing his apothecary bowl down in front of where he sat with his legs bent and crisscrossed, he unfolded the cloth wrapped around the sacred herbs and mushrooms, placing them in the bowl. Using his pestle, he crushed the ingredients together as his grandmother had instructed before he removed the two vials. The first contained a small measure of fermented goat’s milk. He added the entire contents of the vial into the bowl, grinding the other ingredients into the liquid until a thick, murky paste formed. He lifted the other vial, his large hand shaking as he held the deadly ingredient. Hesitating, he set the vial down and took a deep breath, looking for a reason to stall. His heart pounded like a war drum. Ah...the fire!
D’Jwan stood before walking back out to where he had tied off the mule. He removed her second burden, a gathering of kindling wrapped tightly in a heavy cloth and tied with rope. After venturing back into the temple with the bundle, he eyed the concoction waiting for him there. Gathering his resolve, he placed the kindling in the pit and lit a fire by striking flint stones together until they sparked. Dusk was upon him by the time he stoked the fire to roaring, which was just as well. A trip to the spirit world in the light of day was frowned upon.
His heart pounded, but there was no more room for procrastination. He had to add the final ingredient to the paste and use the resulting concoction before the mixture dried up. Recently, his grandmother had spoken of a vision of her own, which had put his journey in motion. She had warned him of an idle future ahead of him. If he continued on the same path, he would drift aimlessly upon the land others now toiled for him, living an ordinary, lonely life unlikely to suit him. Only by returning to her homeland and visiting the spirit world would he be led to his true destiny. D’Jwan hadn’t been so sure about embarking on a spiritual quest. He’d not been fulfilled in his life back home, but he’d lived happily enough on his farm, tussling in the hay with some of the pretty, young milkmaids who served his family. His mother wanted nothing more for him than an easy life as the master of his villa, but his grandmother had been insistent more awaited him.
His pulse racing, he bit down on his lip as he opened the vial and sniffed the contents. He scrunched his nose at the strong odor of the nasty poison. After entering the blood on the head of a spear or arrowhead, the toxin led to a quick and painful death, but he had been assured small amounts had little effect when ingested. Still, he wasn’t in any hurry to find out for sure. Carefully, he added a single drop to the mixture, stirring until the poison combined with and diluted by the other ingredients.
As instructed, he swabbed two fingers through the sacred potion, working the paste over his forehead, leaving two horizontal stripes. He repeated the process across each cheek and his chin. The sick feeling in his stomach had his head muddled but he pushed forward—the worst was yet to come. He lifted the bowl toward his mouth. Digging in with his fingers, he pushed the mixture to the side and over the rim and then between his open lips.
D’Jwan filled his mouth with as much of the bitter-tasting concoction as he could stand, swallowing several times before he managed to force down the coarse-textured potion. He placed his hand over his mouth. His tongue swirled around his teeth as he held back the inclination to vomit. Dry heaving, his nostrils flared as he managed to swallow the last bit. He took a swig of his remaining water and gasped as the room began to spin. His vision clouded and his body swayed. Scooting backward on his bottom, he found his bedroll. He reclined and rested his head.
Breathing erratically, he stared upward, first at the portion of the ceiling that remained intact but soon his gaze wandered to the dark sky and the many sparkling handmaidens serving his grandmother’s Goddess in the heavens. Their brilliance seemed to pull him upward as if he was being swept into the light to soar and swim among the stars.
* * * * *
THE SOUND OF HOOVES pounded the grass as Xia’s hunting party road back toward where they had planned to make camp for the evening. Dusk had hastened their return but smoke coming from the ruins of a nearby temple kept them on horseback for a bit longer. Xia was curious to see who visited the temple of the old goddess. Her riders kept bows handy as they approached the decrepit and usually undisturbed shrine, pulling reins to soften trotting steps.
Scouting ahead, Scyleia took the first look, lifting one finger to signal the number within the temple. Xia galloped forward, her bow pulled, ready to set loose an arrow until she saw Scyleia’s second signal, informing the rest of the group there was no threat.
“Who dares disturb this sacred place we have claimed as our own?” Xia asked.
Laughing, Scyleia shook her head. “He is nothing and no one. Look at his clothing, a man in a dress.”
“A fucking dirt lover,” Kepes added, spitting to emphasize her disdain for anyone who would prefer a life hobbled to a patch of the ground to dig in, rather than the freedom of a saddle.
Xia dismounted. Her leather and fawn-skin boots protected her feet as she crossed a path of broken stones and rubble, standing on rough terrain as she studied the man twitching and shaking by the fire. His eyes were wide open yet he was not conscious but neither was he with them on their plane of existence. She eyed the muscular thighs and calves visible beneath his man-dress.
“Even still, he’s pretty to look at.” Xia moistened her dry lips with her tongue. She raised an eyebrow as she looked over her shoulder at the horsewomen accompanying her.
Her three companions answered with knowing smiles and mild laughter.
Turning around, Xia pointed into the distance. “Micah and Scyleia, you set up camp over there. Kepes and I are going to have some fun with this one but we’ll cut you in soon enough.”
Micah’s nostrils flared and her dark eyes cut to the side under their epicanthic folded lids as she voiced her distaste. “Look”—she pointed out the mule grazing nearby— “he probably can’t even ride.”
Xia smiled, baring her teeth. “Probably not but perhaps he can be ridden.”
More laughter broke out amongst the warrior women, much louder this time.
Kepes craned her neck, taking in the fine form writhing by the fire. She crowed in agreement. “I’m in.”
Xia reached out, placing a hand on the small of her friend’s back as she winked. “Somehow, I knew you would be.”
The two women moved in for a closer look at the beauty struggling against his dreams. His light-colored hair, as golden as the sun, fascinated Xia. She had heard of those called “blonds” but never thought she’d have the opportunity to see one. His wide-open, round eyes stared right past her as she delighted in their deep shade of blue. She might as well have been looking at a cloudless sky before dusk. She glimpsed down his form, her gaze brushing along his hard biceps before her thoughts wondered to what hid beneath the sheet-like clothing he wore.
“Ugh! He reeks!” Kepes complained.
Xia shot her a look, raising one eyebrow. She had seen Kepes fuck two warriors without leaving the saddle after a long day’s ride and she was going to make a fuss about the stench of a little fermented milk?
Removing the scarf she had tied around her waist to cinch her tunic, Xia folded the garment before wetting the cloth with water. Kneeling beside Blue Eyes, she wiped his face, finessing all the dried paste away a bit at a time. “See, we’ll just clean him up...more water.” She lifted the scarf to her second without ever taking her gaze off of the man before her.
Kepes took the scarf a little rougher than Xia would have expected. “Isn’t it a bit fucked up to mess with someone’s spirit quest?”
“Maybe, but if you haven’t noticed, his isn’t going well.” Xia picked up the bowl he must have used for mixing the paste, holding the container to her nose. “That’s not mare’s milk.”
“That matters?” Kepes asked.
“Nothing else binds the fungi as well. It’s not diluted enough.” Xia wiped the remaining paste off his face.
Kepes knelt on the other side of Blue Eyes before she placed her ear against his chest. “Sounds bad.”
“Sweating...” Xia unsheathed a knife she kept sticking out the top of one of her boots, cutting the short robe he wore from neckline to waist.
“At least he took off his boots before he drugged himself crazy.” Kepes grabbed one of his bare feet. Without warning, he kicked her like an obstinate mule. “Son of a whore!” she gritted her teeth as she righted herself.
Xia threw back her head, crowing raucously. “Not bad for a dirt slave.”
Kepes’s nostrils flared. She probably wanted nothing more than to split the man’s head open. “It’s not funny.”
“Sure, it’s not—just as it wasn’t funny when the Turk we fought last summer dropped me on my ass.”
Kepes howled with delight, glee dancing in her copper-penny eyes. “Now that was amusing!”
Xia smiled, reaching over to give one of the small braids adorning Kepes’s otherwise straight, jet black hair a playful tug. “Grab the bedroll. We need to move him away from the fire and out into the cooler air.”
Kepes nodded. “You’re getting his feet.”
Xia fisted handfuls of the fur and sheepskin lined leather beneath the man, tugging in an attempt to drag him away from the heat. “Fuck! He’s heavy as hell!”
Kepes spread the opening in his robe, her eyes widening and her lips curving upward as she observed his broad chest. She whistled. “Not bad.” While running her hand over his bulging muscles, she lightly scraped her fingernails against Blue Eyes’ skin.
He bucked and she jumped back, missing his flailing arm by a hair.
“Ah! Hell no!” She jumped up and ran through the opening leading out of the ruin.
Xia sat vigil, staying far enough back to avoid being pummeled as the man punched and kicked at the air above him.
Soon, Kepes returned with the other two women and some rope.
“Help me get his hands behind his back!” Kepes said.
Xia couldn’t take her eyes off the beautiful man, impressed by his form and spirit as he fought like a warrior while he screamed some nonsense. He had strong legs and arms with lean muscle. Perhaps toiling in the ground suited him. She cawed with mirth as he shook her three sisters-in-arms like ragdolls while they struggled to subdue him.
“Xia, if you are anything more than the worthless daughter of a putrid pig, you will shut your cackling mouth and come help us!” Scyleia insisted as she rolled Blue Eyes over and leveraged her knee against his back.
“Fine...fine,” Xia moved closer before striking like a viper with two tensed but slightly curved fingers, hitting the correct pressure points in the appropriate sequence to make the man’s arms go limp. “Now the rope.”
As Scyleia tied his hands behind his back, Micah groaned in pain as Blue Eyes landed a kick to her stomach. “Son of a whore!” she screamed, holding her belly with one hand and punching Blue Eyes in the thigh with the other.
Xia had to give it to the man; he fought well for someone half out of his mind. Flopping like a fish, he flailed to-and-fro, knocking Kepes on her backside as he did.
“One more time and I cut his throat!” Kepes grabbed the hilt of her knife, holding the blade up in the air and shaking her fist.
“Sheath your weapon,” Xia commanded. “When he wakes you will be paid your due and we will treat him to a much better fevered dream, but first we have to pull him into the grass and I have to cram my fingers down his throat.”
Demons from hell clawed their way up through the ground to where D’Jwan rested. These hellhounds were neither man nor beast but part of both. Like the Centaurs in tavern stories, these hellhounds had the heads and torsos of men but the lower bodies of horses. At moments, they appeared to have at least two heads. The man’s head sat behind the larger horse-sized head. One of the monsters appeared as both goat and horse while another had antlers larger than those of any deer protruding from the horse’s head.
The screaming of hell’s berserkers rang in his ears as his eyes forced on him blurred visions of beasts and demons jumping and dancing, smoke pouring from their nostrils and surrounding him. They attacked, clawing at his flesh, digging in and dragging him. Devouring him, they started with his feet, pulling him ever closer to the pits of hell. They ripped off his clothes, hoisting him over the flaming cauldron to prepare him for their feast. Flashes of color here and there drew his attention but he couldn’t maintain his focus long enough to form a clear picture of his attackers in his mind. His body heaved, begging for more air as pain scourged his back, wrists, and buttocks. His mouth was full, a burning pressure building against his throat as the demons tried to push their way inside him. He gagged as a putrid bitterness pour out over his tongue. Having no more strength to fight, D’Jwan went limp, surrendering to the demons as his mind went blank.
“Fuck!” Micah said, dropping her narrow ass down in the grass. “I didn’t expect him to put up such a fight!”
“This is pig shit. How did we get stuck raising the ger alone?” Scyleia grumbled as she and Kepes worked on putting up the lattice-style walls of their large, rounded tent and reinforcing them with strong horsehair rope bands.
Kepes snickered, making fun of her friend’s irritable mood as they began to raise the roof by attaching the center posts to the crown and roof poles. She wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. “It’s not so bad. We’ve been putting up our homes and pulling them down all of our lives. Besides Xia and Micah have to attend to our handsome prisoner.
“Fuck him!” Scyleia replied.
“I intend to,” Xia cawed, washing her hands in a bowl she had procured during the raid of the fishing village.
The riders laid out some cushions they’d scavenged from the pirates’ ship and set a small, metal container of cannabis burning before breaking out the koumiss. They gathered around, sitting in a circle with their legs crossed. Looking at one another, they finally all broke down, laughing in unison.
“Look at my fucking palms; I have rope burn from fighting that dirt lover.” Micah raised her hands for all to see. “Shit! You should have seen the look on your face the whole time, Kepes.”
Kepes shrugged, offering only an obscene gesture as an answer.
Xia lightly punched her friend in the arm, passing the koumiss. “Just drink.”
“What is that look on your face, Commander?” Scyleia twisted her lips in annoyance.
“I have to admit, I’m fascinated by our beautiful guest.” Xia’s gaze drifted over to where they had hog-tied him.
Scyleia rolled her eyes and Kepes grunted. “Will he live?” Micah asked.
“He’s fine now.” Xia licked a wayward drop of fermented mare’s milk from her lips.
“I’ll say one thing for him; he’s got balls like an ox and a cock like a stallion.” Scyleia nodded as she took a swig and passing the intoxicating drink to Kepes.
Xia’s eyebrows lifted and her teeth showed as she grinned. “You were staring?”
Scyleia’s nostrils flared. “No... I couldn’t help but notice when he put my head in a chokehold between his thighs!”
Xia held her tight belly, laughing loudly. “Damn! How did I miss that?”
Scyleia chuckled despite herself, shaking her head. “He better be worth the trouble.”
Xia leaned in, beckoning the others with her hand as she spoke. “Now listen up, here’s how we’re going to play it...”
Blinking, D’Jwan awoke slowly, his mind becoming alert a few seconds before his limbs followed suit. Where am I? He attempted to rise but thought better of it. Ugh, fuck! My head! He reached upward, settling his hand over where his skull ached.
“He wakes.” A voice resonated in his ear.
“Easy...arise slowly, traveler.” Another female voice coaxed him back to consciousness. They weren’t speaking Greek or Latin but as luck would have it, he was familiar with the tribal tongue or its close cousin.
He turned his head in the direction of the voices, blinking as the light from the campfire illuminated a lovely face. Gingerly, he pushed up on his elbows, raising his head to study her features. Upon closer observation, he saw there were three of them...all beauties with long ebony hair, bronzed skin, and intense eyes with a small skin fold of the upper lid covering the inner corner. One of them sat in front of the other two, her long braids trailing down over her shoulders almost to her lap. The others wore their hair long and straight with some smaller braids adorning the loose locks. D’Jwan licked his lips as he lowered his gaze, catching sight of the woman’s bare breasts. Her body was different from any woman he had ever known, neither skinny like the miller’s daughter nor fleshy like his sexy milkmaids. This woman was slender with curves in all the right places but her arms, legs and even her stomach showed muscle definition not usually seen in the fairer sex.
“Here, drink this.” The woman with braids took a large bronze tankard from one of the others and held it to his lips.
His throat dry, he accepted gratefully, gulping down as much as he could fit in his mouth. Immediately, he regretted his haste. Rather than the thirst-quenching water he had been expecting, the mug held a strong, fermented drink. With difficulty, he swallowed down the liquid in his mouth as he sat up straight to face the exotic and alluring strangers.
“Who are you?” he asked.
All three women laughed heartily and glanced at one another. The shortest of the three women spoke up, “Who are we? Should you not know? It is you who came to us.”
D’Jwan looked off to the side, rubbing his head as he searched his rattled brain for answers. The last thing he remembered was mixing the... Oh, ...it could not be... Had he really crossed into the spirit realm? He looked around, taking in the state of his surroundings. He was no longer in the old temple, but a room of sorts, illuminated only by an open fire in a pit in the middle. The air had been made dense with smoke and the strong smell of incense, considerably reducing visibility and adding to the other-worldly quality.
The woman with the braids held the cup up to him. “You must drink it all.”
Dreading the drink’s harsh bite, he shook his head. “Gratitude but I must decline.”
Before he could react, his back smacked down against the rug rolled out beneath him, knocking his head into the small cushion where he must have been resting when he woke. He gasped as one of the other women straddled and pinned him to the ground.
“You dare refuse the goddess’s hospitality?” She shrieked through gritted teeth, her muscular thighs squeezing against his hips and her hands pressing against his chest, holding him against the hard ground.
His cock stirred and he jarred wide awake, suddenly realizing his hostesses wore nothing but thin scarves tied around their waists to cover their pussies and asses. He looked upward, noting the two jiggling breasts above him, and then he lifted his gaze to the woman’s pretty eyes. Her oval-shaped face was fairer than that of the woman with the braids, with much softer features, though her demeanor seemed far fiercer.
“Apologies...” he uttered, awestruck. “I am but a simple farmer and unaccustomed to such fine company.”
The three exchanged looks, obviously struggling to keep straight faces. The woman with braids broke first and the other two followed, giggling as the woman atop lessened her weight on his chest before dismounting completely. D’Jwan couldn’t say he was happy to be relieved of her burden but he was pleased that she no longer seemed angry.
“Drink.” The woman in braids remained insistent.
Sitting upright again, he reached out and took the tankard he had previously been offered. Placing the cup to his lips, he gulped down the intoxicating beverage as fast as he could.
Visibly pleased, the three women cheered for him as if he had won a feat of strength.
“Excellent, traveler. I am Kepes, one of the handmaidens to the great goddess, Xia, whose wisdom you have sought. These are my sisters, Scyleia and Micah.” She pointed first to the pretty but fierce woman who had pinned him and then to the shortest of the three. Kepes’s dark hair hung loose with the exception of two thin braids that started just above her ears and wove around until they met behind her head. Her face was round with high cheekbones. From the neck up, he would describe her as cute, rather than pretty, but her magnificent body looked as if she had been chiseled from marble.
“Congratulations, you have passed the first obstacle in your quest, moving from your realm to ours. Are you ready for the next?”
Sitting on his knees, D’Jwan bowed low, his face inches from the carpet before he lifted his head and spoke. “I am ready. What is required of me?”
The women stood and moved to surround him in a semi-circle formation, their faces seemingly glowing from above as they peered down at him. Kepes leaned in, her ripe, tempting lips inches from his face.
“You must use all your skills, pleasing us while remaining potent enough to face the rest of your journey.”
His jaw dropped as he sat stunned. Had he heard correctly? Had three handmaidens to a goddess just demanded carnal knowledge of him? Could he do such a thing? Pleasing three women at once wouldn’t be easy. Was he up to the challenge? Insecurity sent a chill down his spine. What will happen to me if I’m not? If I fail, I might be trapped here in this dream state forever... I can’t. I won’t. Failure would disgrace my dear grandmother in the eyes of her goddess.
His brow furrowed with determination. Even if holding back killed him, he would complete this trial with finesse while saving his best for the goddess herself!
There was no time to hesitate! Reaching upward, he unknotted the scarf tied just above Kepes’s hips, snatching the light-weight fabric off with one hand while reaching around her waist with the other. He stretched his neck, connecting his lips to hers as he yanked her forward. Grabbing her, he turned quickly to glide her down to the large cushion nearby.
Scarce light and possibly the combination of strong incense and potent drink left his eyesight fuzzy. Everything in this realm appeared as the memory of a dream but the sugary taste of the woman’s lips was certainly real enough. D’Jwan pressed his mouth against hers, hungrily pushing his tongue between the small opening. Like a jackrabbit ready to run, her tongue darted forward to meet his. Aggressively, she returned the kiss as if she intended to eat him alive. She tasted of honey but he could tell she was no sweet, virginal maiden. Her hips bucked up toward his as she ground her pelvis against him. His milkmaids and house wenches were generous and accommodating, coyly offering their bodies to him, but never had he been so aggressively pursued.
Taking control, he grabbed her arms, pushing her down on the cushion as he broke away. Staring down at her, he watched as she writhed like an animal in heat, her eyes wild with lust as she smiled after licking her bottom lip.
“Lie still, woman!” He pinned her legs beneath his.
She lifted her eyebrows and gasped, obeying his command to still, only her chest heaving. Moving to sit on his knees next to her, he held up the scarf. Subtlety would be his ally during this challenge. Grabbing one end, he wrapped some of the cloth around his hand, holding the edge in a tight fist. With great care, he used his free hand to arrange the flowing silk over Kepes’s breast before he dragged the long length of light-weight material over her pert nipple in a slow fashion.
Kepes bit down on her lower lip, watching his with interest. As smooth as olive oil, the silk caressed the tender pink protrusion of her breast as he delicately created a trail of arousing sensation, pulling the garment further. Kepes squirmed as the tingling across her stiff nub sent signals to her womanhood, creating a downpour of lusty nectar.
She groaned, throwing her hands back and grabbing the edge of the cushion. Holding on tightly, she mewed at the tiny, treacherously slow motions he used to control her body. The damn scarf moved at a snail’s pace, dragging out the stimulation until finally, the fabric pulled across the valley separating her breasts. She moaned again as her cloth stroked her other nipple. Instead of slaying the beast within, this man coaxed forward the yearning, leaving her clawing to hang on as if she were on a raft caught in treacherous currents.
Once the silk completely covered both breasts, he wrapped the other end around his free hand and gradually increased the smooth, erotic caress by slowly gliding the scarf back and forth. As her buds stiffened and throbbed, she gritted her teeth unable to stop her hips from bucking wistfully. Her cunt craved a hard cock but something told her this man had other plans. She turned her head from side-to-side, reveling in the torturous pleasure. Opening her eyes, she searched for his gaze but found him completely focused on his endeavors. She moaned and he spared her a glance, never missing a step in his rhythm as he offered her a knowing smile.
He straddled her legs and lowered his body, moving downward to place a kiss half an inch above her navel as the scarf continued a carnal dance. Kepes’s hips squirmed, her thighs slick with her desire.
“Please...” she begged.
He raised his head, the highlights of his golden hair shimmering in the light of the nearby candles as he lorded over her. His eyes were as blue as the ocean. She growled, wishing he would part her legs and take her but instead, he gave the immediate area a quick scan. Son of a whore! What is he waiting for?
She gasped as he snatched away the scarf, her chest rising and falling heavily. He crawled over her body, bringing his long, large cock above her face. She lifted her head, lapping at its veiny length.
D’Jwan clenched his jaw and pursed his lips, suppressing a moan. “No.” He slipped two fingers in Kepes’s mouth to prevent her from engulfing him. He wouldn’t let her beat him so easily. Lifting his head, he spied the other two handmaidens, grasping each other’s hands as they watched in thrall. He reached out with his free hand, jerking at the knot holding Micah’s scarf around her hips until the garment came loose. Scyleia untied her own scarf and handed the thin cut of fabric over without prompting.
Removing his fingers from Kepes’s mouth, he repositioned himself and nuzzled at her neck. His lips by her ear, he cautioned her. “Patience, little one.”
Her breath falling heavily, Kepes quivered, eagerly awaiting his next move. His lips trailed down the column of her neck, kissing and nibbling his way to her collarbone. As his teeth scraped lightly over her clavicle, she hissed. He grabbed her hands, pulling them together above her head. She closed her eyes, panting as silk twisted around her wrists. What was he doing? She blinked before shutting her eyes again while enjoying the gentle sensation but her eyelids snapped open as the scarf tightly bound her wrists. She struggled until he spoke.
“Trust me.”
Shivering, Kepes tried to relax. Horsewomen of the Steppe seldom relinquished control, but her entire body burned with desire. A light mist of perspiration covered her tawny skin and the area between her legs ached for satisfaction. The pungent scent of cannabis combined with the taste of fermented mare’s milk on her lips blurred her reason. She remained still, allowing him to lace the scarf down her arms and tie the ends above her elbows.
She blinked, opening her eyes to see his chiseled facial features above her. He lowered his head, brushing his lips against hers as his fingers worked her braids, separating the strands and gently combing through them with his fingers before pushing the pads of his fingers down on her head to massage her scalp. She cooed and mewed. No man had ever taken such time and treated her so precious.
She breathed deeply, surrendering to her inclination to let everything go. D’Jwan’s strong hands pampered her body, alternating between the heat of his skin and the sumptuousness of the silk scarves. He moved between her legs. Finally! She held her breath in anticipation but he didn’t enter her. Instead, he raised her leg, kissing each of her toes while he whisked the scarf up and down her thigh. Panting, she lifted her pelvis, attempting to sway the fluid movements toward her throbbing clit.
“Plea...please.” Her throaty murmurs sounded desperate.
Sweetly, he nibbled at her ankle. “All in good time.” His voice was deep and masculine yet filled with the cockiness of youth.
Kepes quivered, releasing a strangled moan as the sumptuous fabric finally made contact with her cunt. “Yes!”
He worked the scarf like a seasoned concubine, scooting, sliding and fluttering its soft, creamy flexibility. One second the fabric tweaked her clit and the next the silk fanned her sensitive nub with cool air before changing yet again to stimulate other sensitive spots. Back and forth, round and round, up and down, the amazing sensations flapped and flowed. Kepes twisted her hips, writhing as her eyes rolled back to look at the ceiling. Her body shook and she cried out in ecstasy. She lifted her buttocks, squeezing her pelvic muscles tight as she quivered, her cunt raining the nectar of sweet release. Huffing, she caught her breath, blinking as she focused on the remarkable man who had brought her ecstasy with only a scarf and left her in a pool of bliss. He loomed over her, offering a smug smile before turning his gaze toward the other two women.
“Who would you have me serve next?” His words fell on Kepes’s ears as she panted, tiny aftershocks holding her senses in thrall.
Micah’s heart thumped so hard the pounding vibrated up into her throat. For what seemed like an eternity, she had sat on her knees, pressing her thighs together as she clasped hands with Scyleia and watched in awe. How could this pale-haired dirt toiler turn a sexually seasoned nomad like Kepes into a moaning, writhing mess? Many a time, Micah had witnessed her hot-blooded friend fuck a warrior on horseback at full gallop. She had to experience this man’s skill! Licking her lips, she reached out with her free hand. “I go next.”
The beautiful stranger rolled Kepes over to the other side of the large cushion with one hand while taking Micah’s hand in his other palm. His grip hardy, he yanked her forward. His strength propelled her in his direction and if he had not grabbed her waist, she would have likely ended up on her head. Instead, he guided her onto her back, practically smacking her down in the other direction with her feet now inhabiting the space where Kepes’s head had previously been.
He leaned down and kissed her lips, softly at first, but soon his tongue pushed through, ravenously stroking hers. Breaking away, he sat upon his knees, looking her over from head to toe as if he were taking in the size of her. He tilted his head, looking off to the side for a tick before a toothy smile dominated his face, lighting up his eyes and pushing his cheeks upward. He held up his large palms as if he were displaying a weapon. “With my bare hands, you shall be conquered.”
Before Micah could comment, he grasped her thighs, one in each hand, and thrust them apart, quickly positioning his body between her legs. He balanced on his knees as he reached down, his hand closed save for two extended fingers. Starting at the shell of her ear, he traced the curvature with a slow, easy touch, using only slight pressure. He barely touched her at all, yet a tingle soared downward as if a spy had snuck in and invaded her most intimate spots. A tense, sexual yearning hung heavily over her breasts even while traveling lower to reside between her thighs as surely as if he had been caressing her entire body.
“Aghhh.” She parted her lips, her chest rising and falling as she remained as still as she could.
Quivering, she gaped at his handsome features. His long hair framed his triangle-shaped face and cleft chin. His large, Roman nose fit well with his rugged jaw and prominent cheekbones. Her gaze dipped lower to take in more of his form. From his broad shoulders, well-defined abdominals and everywhere below, everything about this man screamed strength and masculinity. His large cock, hard and dripping, stood proud, swaying as he worked yet he had not entered Kepes, and Micah feared he did not intend to take her either.
She trembled as he scooted two fingertips down her jawline achingly deliberate. When he reached her chin, he changed directions, his touch gliding down her neck. Guttural sounds caught in her throat as he paused, allowing his fingers to linger in the soft area above her clavicle. He applied the slightest pressure, gently rubbing the area in a circular motion. As if under a spell, Micah froze in place. He coaxed forth a lust from her throat she had never realized resided there. A tortured moan escaped her lips, seemingly spurring him onward.
D’Jwan’s fingers moved like butterfly wings, tracing her collarbone until suddenly his large hand closed around her throat. Gradually, he tightened his grip without ever squeezing hard enough to cause her fear. As if grabbing the raging lust he had lured up from her gullet, he held the force-of-nature in the place where her body found its voice. As he tightened and released his grip, a powerful euphoria coiled in her belly, driving her close to release. He loosened his hold on her throat only to repeat the process, exerting his power twice more before he directed his attention to her heaving chest.
The nectar of Micah’s lust poured down her thighs as she breathed in the cannabis dense air. As if dancing joyfully, he moved his fingers over her breast. For the first time, he used his entire hand, caressing the fleshy mound.
“Mmmm,” Micah cooed but soon gasped as his grasp became more controlling. The bottom portion on her breast rested in his palm while he positioned his thumb above the circle of her nipple. He curled his fingers upward, the calloused pad of his thumb pushing into her flesh until an acute pinching sensation sent a throbbing jolt to her nether regions. “Ah!”
She marveled at his intuition, wondering how he knew exactly where and how much pain he should exert to draw forth such pleasing sensations. He used his other hand to accelerate the hunt for her climax, joining the pursuit and recreating the phenomenon with the other breast simultaneously.
No longer able to keep still, Micah arched her back and bucked her hips with need as he caressed her breasts. He’d release one only to dominate the other, again and again until she was sure she would die if she didn’t soon find release. Without shame, she howled like a wanton banshee, delighting in the conflicting sensations of pleasure and pain. As he freed her breasts from his grasp, she whimpered.
He reached for her hips and roughly turned her over onto her stomach. “Fuck!” Her comment was more of a plea than an exclamation as she growled. With her hot, flustered ass now exposed to the much cooler air, a warm flush of humility covered Micah’s face and ears. She turned her head toward the area where she had previously been seated while she’d watched D’Jwan work Kepes over. Scyleia had not moved an inch but Kepes had managed to crawl over to perch beside her. Her hands and arms still bound together; her once beautiful hair was now a sweat-drenched mess. As the two warrior women locked gazes, Kepes nodded as if to say she understood.
From the look in Kepes’s eyes, Micah was sure her friend did. Scyleia didn’t. How could she? No one could possibly understand the exhilarating torment without experiencing being pushed to the edge only to be left dangling there. The agonizing craving to be filled and to clench down on a hard, stiff cock drove her nearly mad, but the searing sizzle of his teasing felt too good to resist. And so, Micah remained his willing victim.
His thick manhood rested against her back as he straddled her and took hold of her shoulders. He pushed his fingers against her skin, massaging deep into her road-weary muscles. She moaned again, differently this time, caught off-guard by the more relaxing, less dominating contact. A flutter developed in her belly as the excitement he’d elicited immediately beforehand nipped at her awareness while the gentle touch of his current endeavors sent her heart galloping. As he worked his way downward, he scooted back. His sack and cock rested against her ass as he rubbed her lower back. Dying for more, he arched her back, wiggling her fleshy bottom against his throbbing shaft. If only he would just enter me!
He ignored her silent pleas, treating her muscles to a deep-tissue massage. She groaned, closing her eyes. The slight weight he had burdened her with disappeared as he moved, repositioning his body to kneel next to her. Only the weight of his hand resting on the small of her back remained until a sudden crack of pain caused her to blink her eyelids open as she squealed. He had struck her ass with his open hand!
Again, his large palm landed on her rear, making a smacking sound. Micah breathed heavily. The shock of being hit had thrown her but after a lifetime in the saddle, her backside was more than tough enough to take a beating. His hand rose and fell with increasing speed, landing all over her round bottom, warming her skin to a simmer. She cooed in response to the bittersweet awareness stirring across her flesh. A buzzing torrent of sensation built between her legs with every swat. She wiggled her ass and writhed, hot cream saturating her cunt.
“Lift that ass.” His gruff tone sent a shiver flying along her spine.
Micah complied, leaving her head and shoulders down on the cushion while moving her legs and balancing on her knees. D’Jwan landed a couple of sharp smacks to her sit spots before surprising her by slipping a finger into her drenched slit. “Oohh!”
“You are ready?”
“Yes.” Micah smiled, sighing hopefully. She wanted him to slide his cock deep inside her. He pushed another finger between her swollen folds before plunging the digits within her aching pussy. She moaned appreciatively as his fingers twisted and turned, stimulating her while seeking out the right spot. She squealed as he found and palpated the sensitive area. She arched her back while bucking her hips. Tucking her next to his side, he wrapped an arm around her waist to keep her still as his fingers plucked at her pleasure zone. She pushed back, grinding against his knuckles.
Her cunt stretched to accommodate yet another finger while he twirled his hand to leave his thumb resting on the pinkish nub over her swollen pillows of tender flesh. Three long fingers jammed into her hard and fast while his thumb caressed her button.
Micah widened her stance to allow him better access to her needy cunt. “More!”
D’Jwan had a skilled, almost magical, touch and his rhythm lured her into a hypnotic daze, her breath syncing with his movements. Harder and harder he rammed his fingers into her, each time pinpointing the right spot. Micah moved her hips in time with his hand while panting heavily. The pressure built in the pit of her belly as the exhilaration grew. The starving beast inside her stood on the edge of oblivion, and she planned to chase the desire to the underworld if necessary. As his thumb applied more pressure, Micah’s entire body shook. She clenched down on his fingers and cried out in rapture.
Her muscles contracted in spasms as she struggled to catch her breath. Now sated, the animal within her slept as he removed his sopping-wet digits from within her. She rolled over onto her back in time to see him lap her juices from his fingers, her heart leaping at the vision.
D’Jwan tasted the handmaiden’s savory essence, slurping over each finger one at a time until they were clean. She rested next to him, crumbled on the cushion like a balled-up parchment. He patted her still-pink bottom, admiring the lines where his handprints met uninitiated flesh.
“Trade places with her.” He nodded toward Scyleia, who appeared to be chomping at the bit for her turn.
With some apparent difficulty, Micah crab-walked backward until she could collapse next to her cohort.
The last handmaiden was quite comely with long if slightly bowed legs, large breasts, and a pretty face. Her soft facial features stood in great contrast to her stiff, protruding nipples. She shared the same bronze complexion, raven hair, and dark-brown eyes as the other two, but when she smiled a slight gap showed between her two front teeth.
He wanted to drive his throbbing staff into her, pound her hard until he toes curled and she squealed. The inclination to quench his lust had his sack tight and his cock twitching. He couldn’t hold out much longer. He had taken his time with the other two, wringing the pleasure out slowly but he would devour the beauty before him quickly.
Scyleia’s stomach simmered with anticipation as she took her place in front of her handsome prisoner. Never before had she seen Kepes and Micah so enraptured, and she couldn’t wait to find out what the stranger had in store for her.
He grabbed a handful of her loose locks, tugging slightly as he guided her down onto her back. Not one to wait for a man to take charge, she grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him into a passionate kiss. He returned the kiss with gusto but put a stop to her attempt to dominate by grabbing her hands and pinning them down on either side of her head. Never one to surrender without a fight, Scyleia wrapped her legs around him and bucked her hips, pressing her sex against his erection.
Without further pleasantries, D’Jwan broke from the kiss and ducked down, pushing her thighs apart while lifting her legs over his shoulders. Scyleia growled as he nuzzled her inner thigh, lapping at the slickness that had already accumulated there during his live show. His lips brushed against the tender folds of her cunt before he extended his tongue and attended to her womanhood like a mother cat bathes her kittens. Nimbly, his tongue journeyed into every dip and crevice of her sultry folds, testing for sensitivity.
She grabbed his head, pushing his face deeper while twisting strands of his hair around her fingers. His tongue twirled around her aching button, sending her into fits of moaning. She lifted her pelvis, swaying her hips, wanting more. She cried out as two fingers pierced her cunt and nudged a sweet spot.
He quickened the pace of his tongue movements, flickering up and down as he shook his head back and forth much like a coyote takes out a viper. His fingers fucked her vigorously while his lips drew her button into his mouth. As his tongue danced wildly, hitting all her best spots and sending a buzzing current of delightful awareness along her flesh, the only thing the powerful and strong-willed Scyleia could do was clamp her thighs against his cheeks, arch her back and cry out in ecstasy. She tightened her belly, attempting to hold onto the coiling pressure, but every fiber of her being seemed to have caught fire as she lost control. Pushed over the edge onto a wave of climax, she flopped like a fish out of water, panting and moaning.
Prying her thighs open, D’Jwan lifted his head and smirked as he popped his fingers inside his mouth and tasted her. Reaching out with his other hand, he rubbed her stomach gently as she caught her breath.
“Come, traveler. You have proven your worth. You may entertain me and I will peer into your soul.”
The new voice caught his attention and he whirled in the direction from where the sound came. Stepping out from behind a hanging tapestry, a tall, beautiful woman greeted him. All of these women were fair of face and enticing of body but this one moved with an air of authority with her head held high and regally. Her straight back and shoulders presented her pert, buxom breasts, tantalizing him and making his cock sway. Surely, he was standing in the presence of his grandmother’s goddess.
He dropped to his knees, placing his forehead on the rug-covered floor as he crept toward the deity. He reached forward to touch her ankle but then thought better of putting his hand on her without permission Instead, he moved closer, worshiping at her feet and bestowing her toes with sweet kisses.
“Stand, worthy traveler.”
He followed her command, hurrying to his feet. Surprisingly, the lovely woman nearly matched him in height, save a few inches. Like her handmaidens, the goddess was nearly naked, save for a sheer scarf tied about her hips and a plethora of sparkling gold adornments. Her long, dark hair hung loose except for two small braids on either side of her face and she wore a crown-like headdress of gold trees. An incredibly detailed and ornate pectoral necklace with three rows depicting images of horses and warriors adorned her chest. One of her upper arms bore a similarly decorative, gold gauntlet, and golden antelope bracelets graced both of her petite wrists. Even her ears were adorned with small, dangling chains of delicate filigree jewelry, leaving no doubt of this woman’s status as a deity.
“I am your humble servant, Goddess.”
Her plump lips twisted into a smirk before her eyes softened and she smiled. “Thus far, your offering has pleased me well. You may call me Xia.”
“But I am unworthy to utter your precious name.” He shook his head vigorously.
Reaching out, she cupped his cheek, silencing him. “I will judge who is worthy.” Her gaze traveled down his stomach, landing and lingering on his engorged cock.
He swallowed hard. “I’m yours to command.”
Taking his hand, she led him to a clean, felt-covered futon rolled out on the other side of a long decorative tapestry that had been rigged to hang from a couple of roof poles. Trailing behind her, D’Jwan noticed her skin bore a tattoo of a stag over one of her hips and part of her lower back. The goddess’s body, though exotic and stunning, exhibited many differences from the round, soft women he had previously known. Rather than the frailty often seen in the feminine sex, her thin arms and small shoulders rippled with definition. Her biceps, stomach, and thighs displayed firmly corrugated, powerful muscle while her small hands and feet remained markedly womanly.
Stepping onto the futon, she crouched, crawling like a cat until she took her place, resting on her back while beckoning him with one crooked finger. He took a quick look around. Xia’s lair, sparsely lit as the rest of her temple, didn’t lack for comfort. Pillows of lush fabric and varying styles surrounded them and close by, hot stones warmed more of the odd-smelling herb he had previously mistaken for incense.
D’Jwan refocused his energy. He stood at the apex of his journey. Now was no time to falter. He dropped to his knees, crawling toward her. He positioned his body on top of her with his face directly above hers. The warm smile she offered him was encouragement enough and he was on her, pressing his lips against hers while grinding his manhood against the silky-smooth fabric covering her cunny.
As she parted her lips, he tasted her, his tongue swimming inside her wet cavernous lagoon with powerful strokes. He kissed her deeply while caressing down the length of her body with one hand. She moaned appreciatively as they separated. D’Jwan sat on his knees, eyeing her form. She had a long neck and breasts like round, ripe melons. His gaze wandered down to the knot holding the sheath of fine silk around her hips. He made short work of untying the binding, not that the scant fabric had left anything to the imagination. He rubbed his fingers through the dark, thin, tight curls crowning her cunt before he slipped a hand under her ass, lifting her enough to snatch the scarf from beneath her. He ran the length of silk between his hands. To start, he would use the smooth cloth around that pretty neck of hers. Since Xia was a deity, in accordance with her status, he had to do everything he had done for the other three and much more to honor her. Anything less would shame him before his grandmother’s goddess, and now he had an audience...three sets of eyes peeping around the tapestry to watch. He smiled, happy to entertain them.
Xia breathed heavily as she came down from her third trip over the edge of the heavenly horizon. D’Jwan had worked her over in every way he had taken her friends and still, he had yet to enter her. Her heart thumped rapidly as she twirled a lock of his blond hair around her finger. Her stomach fluttered, an odd mixture of exhilaration and anxiety trapped within. She wanted him to take her, enter her, fill her up and fuck her until dawn broke, but at the same time, she wished the evening, and thus her time with him, would never end. More beautiful than any man, warrior or king, she’d ever seen, he smelled of musk and sex. She longed to feel his huge length and girth. Surely, he had to be feeling the pull as well. His uncut cock strained against its foreskin, dripping the evidence of hot readiness.
She spread her legs farther apart, drawing her ankles up by her ears. “Fuck me!”
“By your command, my Goddess.” He palmed the base of his shaft, positioning the ruddy reddish head at her entrance.
She moaned as the tip poked at her and she cried out as he pierced her, pushing forward, forcing her insides to adapt with haste as he plunged into her all the way to his hilt. She arched her back and gyrated her hips in time with his thrusts. Grabbing her ankles, he held her feet in the air as he slammed into her hot, damp cunt. Xia reached for her swollen button tingling above the action, rolling the nub between her fingertips.
As if insulted by her taking of things into her hands, he pulled out of her. She whimpered as the cool air covered her sex and punctuated his abandonment but was soon placated when his warm lips nuzzled her folds, kissing and licking his way to the needy button and slathering the tuff of flesh with wet affection. Content, Xia relaxed her neck and shoulders, closing her eyes to amplify the blissful sensations. She cooed and moaned but growled as he lifted his head. Quickly, he repositioned and entered her again, manhandling her thighs as he thrust into her. His hips swirled in a circular motion, bumping and nudging sweet spots deep within her. She writhed beneath him, her breasts jiggling with each sultry slam.
She rubbed her hands across his hard pectorals, tweaking his nipples. Breathily, he moaned, lifting his head toward the heavens as her fingers made their way down between his tight abdominal muscles, past his navel to the patch of light-brown hair over his cock. She watched his eyes, noting the strained look on his face as he pulled out of her again, tightly gripping the base of his shaft. She sighed as her cunt immediately missed the fullness. Son of a whore! She wanted him to plow into her with the strength of an ox. Why does he...? Her eyes widened. Oh! The wetness dripping from his erection told her he was challenging his stamina to please her longer.
As he plunged between her legs, tongue-first, she smiled smugly, gently brushing his hair back behind his ears. His tongue danced up and down and back and forth before swirling in circles around her aching nub. Xia cooed, her hips squirming. Having already come no less than three times, her extraordinarily sensitive pussy surged with wetness and delightful aftershocks. She trembled as a shiver rushed down her spine. Poor, sweet, dirt toiler...certainly, she had tortured him enough.
Tapping him on the shoulder, she demanded, “Fuck me; Release your seed!”
He lifted his head, licking her nectar off his lips as he met her gaze. Slick with sweat, he moved forward, positioning his body over hers and trapping her beneath him as he penetrated her in one fast swoop.
“Umph!” She grunted, startled by the abrupt entrance but soon enough, she howled with pleasure, moving her hips in tandem with his powerful thrusting.
She wrapped her legs around his, entwining their limbs as their bodies collided with passion. This poor fool...she had used him mercilessly. Now she needed to show the grace of the deity he believed her to be. And why not? She was no corn-fed, dirt slave maiden or frail house servant. She was Xia, a commander of nomad warriors, and she had the body and strength to take control.
Pushing D’Jwan, she rocked him over onto his back, taking her rightful place on top of him. She placed her hands on his chest, holding him down and swaying her hips. Her abdominals tightened as she gyrated, her shoulders held back as she swung her head, tossing her hair from side-to-side as she bounced up and down on his cock, fucking him with vigor.
He looked up at her as if he were in awe. Damn—he is adorable! His eyes glistened and his face glowed with warmth as his expression morphed into barely restrained rapture. He wouldn’t last long. His sweet expression and determination to please were so cute she could not help but lean down and drop a kiss above his eyebrow. She lifted her body as she raised her head. Xia’s eyes widened as he followed, lifting his torso while wrapping his arms around her. Face-to-face with him, she gasped, wrapping her arms around his shoulders for leverage. He ran his hands down her naked back and grasped her hips, thrusting in time with her movements. Her breath hitched as her body sweltered. The heated passion steadily wound inside her, ready to spring. She cupped his cheek and stared into his beautiful blue eyes before resting her forehead against his.
“It’s time...” She clenched down on his cock. “Claim your destiny.” She shook with pleasure as he slammed into her a few more times before tightening his hold around her waist and releasing his seed deep within her.
“My Goddess!” He panted as he collapsed on his back.
More than sated, Xia sighed as she rolled off him. She collected a thin blanket to cover them before snuggling up alongside her sleeping worshiper. If luck was with her, he wouldn’t be too disillusioned the next morning.
