Carnal Sacrifice (5 page)

The largest man stepped forward. “You own this tavern?”

He gave a friendly nod, then introduced himself. “Garon of Myrtell.”

“We’re looking for a girl. Brown hair—”

Again, he motioned toward the barely clad ladies in his employ. “Right here.
 
Two
 
attractive girls who would be happy to please you in any way you can think of for a  mere bit of metal or a few colored stones.” That was how he sold his ale—for bits of the

most valued materials in Caralon, which he could then barter for whatever he needed.  Slowly, he was amassing more and more of the stuff, becoming a rather rich man for a  mere villager.

The big warrior simply looked impatient. “We’re looking for a
 
particular
 
young  woman. Brown braided hair, hazel eyes, wearing a green frock. Has she been here?”

Garon slowly looked around the room, where all eyes now watched the scene near  the door. “As you can see, our customers here are strictly of the male variety. So unless  either of those two lovely vixens on the table are the one you’re seeking, I’m afraid I  can’t help you.”

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Lacey Alexander

The warrior didn’t move or speak for a moment, as if he didn’t quite believe Garon.  But Garon stood his ground. They had no reason to suspect him other than his establishment being only one of few open after darkness fell in Myrtell. “A lot of places a girl could hide out there in the dark,” he said easily, motioning beyond the walls of the tavern. “And if the girl you described had come in here…well, I think I’d have noticed her, don’t you?”

Slowly, Enrick’s head man seemed to relax, his companions following his lead. “I guess we’d better get back to the search,” he said to them.

Garon gave a somber nod. “Good luck to you.”

The large fellow nodded briefly in return, then herded his small band back out the open door into the night. The string player in the corner slowly began strumming a sensual tune once more and it seemed a cue for the tavern to resume activity. Sima and  Janya smiled at each other and exchanged a sensual tongue kiss that lifted his cock. Or maybe it was on the rise for some entirely
 
different
 
reason. A reason that waited in his bedchamber this very second.

Rather than head back there just now, though, he waited. Reached for his goblet and took a long swallow of sweet, grainy ale. Watched his customers delight over the female entertainment. Looked back to the girls to see darkly-complexioned Sima recline  Janya across the wooden table and ease her way down generous curves, kissing Janya’s stomach, then parting her legs to reveal hair as red as that which adorned her head.  Pink flesh jutted from between and every man’s gaze was riveted, waiting for Sima to lick it.

It was a performance Garon had seen many times, but he never tired of it.

Part of him couldn’t quite believe he’d just put his life on the line by lying to  Enrick’s men about—dear Ares—the ruler’s daughter. He was actually harboring a royal runaway. Worse yet, one who still possessed the bride price between her legs.  And he’d told her he wanted her
 
body
? What had he been thinking?

Well, it was more what his cock had been thinking, he supposed. He’d suffered the same reaction he would have to
 
any
 
pretty girl. Only he should have ignored it this

time.

Turn her out now and you might still get out of this alive.

Yes, that was what any sane man would do.

He didn’t know why she was hiding, but he’d made the mistake of agreeing to help her, and now—not from kindness, but from a healthy sense of self-preservation—he was going to deny himself the enticing curves he’d seen under that shimmering green fabric and send her on her way.

As soon as he watched Sima and Janya eat each other’s delectable cunts, that was.  He’d never been very skilled at denying himself anything when it came to women.

* * * * *

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Carnal Sacrifice

Laela lay flat on her back beneath the bed where Baelor had unceremoniously shoved her. She couldn’t hear anything through the door other than muffled voices. Her skin prickled—from the raw fear of being discovered, and also from the deal she’d made with her fantasy lover. Garon.

A fantasy not for very much longer, it would seem. Soon she would know what it was to fuck him. The thought shriveled her fear a bit, and transformed her tension into anticipation. Even lying in the dark, under the bed, her body still tingled, her breasts aching pleasantly with want and her cunt seeming to tickle.

He was just as handsome as she remembered. Dark blond hair fell over his forehead and down onto his neck, dimples shone in his cheeks when he cast those wicked little smiles of his, and she’d never been close enough before to see the scintillating sparkle in his eyes, but it had nearly been enough to bury her.

In one way, she couldn’t quite believe what she’d agreed to, yet in another, it had been easy. Yes, she was nervous about their arrangement, but if she was honest with herself, she felt equally as excited. Sex with Garon might even be enough to take her mind off the fact that she’d just run away from the most powerful man in Caralon and left behind every ounce of the existence she’d known up to now.

Her mind played over Garon’s deep, confident voice calling her
 
princess
. She’d never actually heard the archaic term for a royal girl spoken aloud. It was a rare word, known to few, only those well read in the older texts of the Before Times. How did the tavern keeper even
 
know
 
such a word?

As seconds stretched into minutes, her mind wandered. What would it be like to have him on top of her, to have his hands on her breasts, his mouth on hers? What would his cock be like? For that matter, what was
 
any
 
cock like? Aris’ drawings were good, but so two-dimensional—Laela still had little notion of what to expect.

Her musings calmed her…until a hand closed around her ankle.

She let out a small screech.

“Quiet.” It was Baelor, sounding annoyed. “I think the men are gone, but we don’t  need your squeals bringing them back.” With that, he tugged on her leg, trying to pull  her out from under the bed.

“Ow, you’re hurting me. I can get out myself.”

The young man released her from his grasp and she eased her way from beneath  the bed to sit up. Kneeling next to her, he smiled, and it was the first time she noticed  that Garon was not the only handsome man in this building. Baelor’s cheeks were  dusted with dark stubble and his eyes glittered a steely gray. She caught a glimpse of  dark hair curling on his chest, visible beneath an open leather vest. The warmth from  her previous ponderings increased, spreading all through her at his nearness. “Garon  likes feisty women,” he said.

Despite her new awareness of him, she only rolled her eyes, recalling that so did  Ogran. “That seems to be the general consensus in Myrtell.”

“I do, too,” he informed her, “so you’re lucky Garon already has a claim on you.”

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Lacey Alexander

She raised her eyebrows. “Is that so? I don’t suppose
 
my
 
feelings on this matter at

all?”

He laughed. “You’re funny, too. Garon is lucky.” He pushed to his feet, then went to rummage in a cabinet near the hearth. “And just so you know—no, I would not take you against your will. I would simply seduce you.”

This made
 
her
 
laugh, and his tone said he didn’t mind, that he was teasing her a bit.  She found herself surprisingly drawn to him, so much so that she wished she’d paid more attention to his touches on her wrist earlier, and just now, on her ankle. She experienced a vague urge to touch
 
him
.

Until he turned back around and said, “Lie down on the bed.”

She tensed, her cunt flinching. “Why?”

He looked perturbed. “You heard Garon tell me to make sure you didn’t leave.  Now lie down.”

Pulling in her breath at this sudden change of tone, she obeyed the command, then watched—in a combination of shock and horror—as Baelor brought two strips of leather to the bedstead and methodically tied first one of her wrists to the right post, then the other to the left. “Wh-what are you…?”

He gave her a matter-of-fact look, then enunciated very clearly, as if she might be slow-minded. “Making sure you don’t
 
leave
. Remember?”

She let out a sigh. Seemed she’d somehow gone from one type of captivity to another.

Even so, whatever happened here, it was by far preferable to what would have happened to her with Ogran. That thought made the bindings a little more bearable, even as they pulled tight at her skin and thrust her breasts forward against the silk of her dress. She couldn’t help wondering if Baelor noticed her nipples jutting through the green fabric, and—although she scarcely knew why, for Garon was the object of her affections—she almost hoped he did, and hoped that he liked it. The thought made her pussy moist.

She couldn’t help being pleased when his eyes raked boldly over her—even as he headed toward the door to depart. He flashed another impish grin. “Have a fun evening, virgin girl.”

She gasped at the reminder—and as the door shut behind him, she wished she’d hidden her reaction better. Here in town by herself, outside the fortress, she’d already forgotten her braid and what it signified to those who saw her. At home, she was accustomed to it—and no one there gave it a second thought. In the village, though, where most girls shed their virginity long before reaching royal bride’s age, she supposed the braid was like a sign suspended from her neck.
 
Royal Virgin. Total  Innocent. Never Been Fucked.

Laela lay tied to the bed then for what seemed like hours. Her mind raced the whole time, never slowing. She remembered the two women in the other room, kissing and undressing one another while the men watched, and she wondered what might be

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Carnal Sacrifice

happening now. With each sound of laughter or collective lusty sigh through the door,  she couldn’t resist wondering just what exactly she was missing, and what part Garon  might play in it. For with Baelor’s departure, her mind had turned again to her fantasy  lover, the man she’d promised her body to.

Odd, now that she’d met him, he seemed more an enigma than ever.

And the longer she lay there—worrying about her father’s anger, or that his men  could return, worrying about what her life would become now—the more she wanted  Garon to come for her. Not only did she desperately want the distraction from her  worrisome thoughts—she also wanted to learn the mysteries of sex from a man, once  and for all. The sights and sensations of the evening had built in her an entirely new  sort of desire—something brazen and hungry that couldn’t be pushed down. Were her  hands not tied, she would have touched herself to ease the hot ache. Blasted strips of  leather.

Finally, when her cunt felt near implosion and she’d nearly given up on his ever coming through the door—it opened. In the outer room, soft laughter and the clink of goblets could still be heard, but she had the sense of a smaller, quieter crowd now that the night had grown later. She lay, her arms stretched to either side, watching as he entered the shadowy chamber.

Baelor had left large candles burning, and Garon’s blue eyes sparkled in the light when he delivered a wicked smile. “Waiting up for me, princess? How sweet.”

She pursed her lips at his roguish manner. “It’s a bit difficult to sleep while trussed like a pig.”

He chuckled. “Come now, you’re hardly tied up
 
that
 
well. But if you’d like me to try, I can get more leather.”

She simply blinked. “Why would I…?”

He let out another of his knowing little laughs. “Some women like to be bound very tight, princess.”

She flinched slightly, just then understanding that he must be talking about something sexual. “Oh. Well…I don’t believe I’m one of them. In fact, my arms hurt.”

“If you ask
 
me
, you look damnably tempting that way.” He walked slowly around the bed, giving her a long once-over. Her body hummed under his scrutiny, her breasts feeling even more sensitive and needy beneath his gaze and her pussy tingling madly, even if some unexamined instinct led her to draw her legs together beneath her silken gown. She liked his eyes on her, yet at the same time, they made her feel all too vulnerable. “Indeed, a man could be tempted to shove up those fancy skirts and sink his cock into your royal cunt, princess.”

Heat climbed her cheeks as the truth assaulted her—he had full control here. She’d known that before, of course, but only now did the true measure of her helplessness strike her. He could do whatever he wished and there was nothing she could do to stop him.

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Lacey Alexander

But if she suffered any fear, it was tempered with desire—the desire she’d always felt for him, the desire that had burned slowly hotter all night as she’d awaited him—so she shoved her worries aside and tried to be bold. “Only
 
tempted
?” She pushed her lower lip out, pouting slightly, trying to look sensual, ready to be a willing, wanting woman for him.