Dragon Lords Books 1 - 4 Box Set: Anniversary Edition (8 page)

O
nce back in the tent
, Ualan set Morrigan down in front of him. He lifted his hand to her face, sweeping across the soft features. His gaze dipped to her breasts, watching them heave with each delighted breath. A wicked smile came to his lips and she suspected he contemplated punishing her for trying to escape him yet again. The idea sent chills over her.

Slowly, he stalked her, forcing her to back away. Morrigan glanced at the bed, ready for him to finally end this dance and take her. He forced her past the silken paradise that the bed offered. She touched him, but he brushed her fingers aside. Keeping his gaze fixed steadily on her, he continued to walk her back until Morrigan’s legs bumped into the edge of the bondage throne.

Ualan’s wicked smile broadened. His fingers moved from her cheek, down her neck to the pulse beating beneath her flushed skin. With a rip, he pulled her gown from her body, exposing her to his whim. Morrigan’s nipples peaked at the rough brush of material. He didn’t touch them, refusing to answer their beckoning call.

With a firm shove, he pushed her naked body onto the throne. His power excited her. Morrigan panted for breath, unable to stand once he towered so commandingly over her. This was his game and he was in control. Part of her wanted to fight him, to resist, but she was weak, a prisoner to his whims.

Ualan leaned close to her face, his hot breath caressing her skin as he moved his lips just beyond her flesh’s aching reach. The strangely erotic feel of smoothed wood, carved to mold the shape of her ass, caught her by surprise and she gasped as it teasingly spread her cheeks.

Ualan’s tickling breath continued lower, over her chin, down her jaw, between her breasts. His lips drifted over a ripe nipple, teasing it with a feathery kiss that sent a shockwave of passion through Morrigan’s limbs. She lifted off the throne, only to settle once more out of fear that he would stop.

His breath continued to tease her. Her neglected breast arched as he neared it, ready and waiting for a reward like the other had received. It was left wanting. Morrigan groaned as her hips pressed down on the throne. Her eyes sought his. She lifted her fingers to grab his hair and force him to her.

Ualan held back. With the swiftness of a striking snake, his fingers curled around her wrists and brought them hard to the arms of the chair. He held them there as she struggled. All the time he breathed on her, the hot, feathery fanning torment.

When she understood him enough to stop struggling, Ualan blew lower, over her ribs, across her flat stomach, around her contracting navel. Her legs spread, wanting him lower. His hands held her wrists hard to the throne, making it impossible to fight. Not that she could. Morrigan tensed her legs, waiting for him to get just low enough so that she could wrap him to her and force him to touch her.

To her agony, he did touch her. But it was not as she would have him. His tongue edged out from his firm lips—so slow, so distressing, so very painful to watch. She couldn’t look away. Her mouth opened wanting to feel his lips for itself.

With a tender lick that she felt in every concentrated nerve, he slid his tongue into her navel. Morrigan yelped, her body alighting with fierce excitement. Her legs worked, trying to find a hold over his shoulder, only to be blocked by the arms pinning her down.

Ualan’s tongue licked downward in a direct path to her seeking pussy. His tongue met the top arch only to circle around to the side. Morrigan protested, thinking she was about to die from the torture. He withdrew his tongue only to dart it forward freshly wetted. He traced the indent where her thigh met her sex. Morrigan tried to squeeze his head, desperate to control the controller. Sweat beaded her skin. She breathed hard, trembling and gasping, so close, so very close and yet she still couldn’t reach that ending she sought.

Her tormentor growled, pulling back from her. Morrigan was instantly sorry for her actions and she tried to repent by letting her legs fall back to the sides where he’d put them. Even so, how could he expect anything less? It would have been easier if he bound her limbs, instead of making her decide to behave.

Morrigan’s closed her eyes, trying to find some piece of sanity that would explain why his hand left her. She didn’t dare move. Keeping as he wanted her, she peeked from lowered lashes. Ualan stood proudly before her with his fur loincloth pooled at his feet. The length of his naked cock towered before her. He was shameless, waiting patiently for her gaze to make the journey back up his oiled body.

“Are you ready to choose?” he questioned when she finally met his eyes.

Morrigan took in his athletic form, feeling very much the hunting lioness about to pounce. She didn’t answer with words, hoping he would accept her stillness as a response.

His was a body formed of hard work and exercise, not enhanced by machines. There was vitality to him, a power and control she had not seen in other men. He was the proud warrior, the conqueror. And by the look in his eyes, he would soon be
her
conqueror.

There was also a tenderness in his expression and a searching that contradicted the warrior-barbarian in him. Gently, he kissed her mouth, rubbing his lips over hers in a soft caress. Morrigan couldn’t help herself. She moaned lightly against him.

Ualan pulled back and continued to study her for a long moment, his eyes taking in her every hitched breath. Morrigan had to look away, unable to understand the questions and emotions she found there.

Leaning over, Ualan picked her gown from the ground, stroking it several times in a way that made her wish it was her body he held. He then ripped the material apart, tearing it beyond use. Morrigan shivered. Without her clothes, she would not be able to leave him again. She was his prisoner.

Still caressing the material in his large hands, he came forward. His eyes stayed steady on his captive as he laid the material on her lap. Morrigan gasped as it brushed her heated skin. Then, taking a fine strip from the top of the pile, Ualan brought it to her prone wrist. His naughty smile sent chills over her. With a few deft movements, he tied her arm to the chair.

When he had tied her other wrist in the same manner, he stood. Morrigan tried to lift her hands, but the bonds were too tight. When she remained where he wished her to stay, he nodded in approval of his work.

Had she really wanted to be tied down moments before? She thought about screaming, of protesting, of doing any number of logical things. Yet, instead she silently watched him as he circled the bondage chair. Her neck strained as she tried to turn, but he again disappeared beyond her view.

“Where are you going?” she asked, breathless. “What are you doing?”

Suddenly, a blindfold was placed over her eyes from behind. Darkness surrounded her as he tied it behind her head. She listened for him, trying to see where he was, trying to sense if he looked at her. Then, a soft crack of a whip resounded behind her head. Morrigan jumped, thrilled and frightened. Her heart beat in erratic waves. Her mind swam with raw emotions. The whips cracked again, to her side, smacking loud against the wood like a hand to flesh.

Morrigan tensed, waiting for the feel of a strap to her helpless skin. Her eyes closed beneath the blindfold. The whip snapped again and again. Each time she jumped, sure that it drew closer to her anticipating flesh.

Crack!

The loud snap came next to her arm, not touching her. She jumped, straining against her binds.

Whoosh—crack!

It sung through the air to land behind her head. She jolted.

With each hit, her body grew tauter. The wood pressed into her ass—hard and unforgiving. Her body arched, strained from anticipation and fear. Then, gradually she felt a brush against her flesh. It wasn’t the beating she had expected. Her mouth shot open in surprise. She could not see Ualan but she could feel the tickle of his whip as he dangled it over her flesh.

Achingly slow, the tip was dragged over a nipple. Morrigan whimpered, panted, cried out softly. The fight left her until she was completely under his spell. Nothing else mattered but his will for her. She was tired of being in control, wanted to be free from decisions, so she let him decide for her. Who wanted to think through the sensual fog that now drifted through her mind? From beyond her touch-focused brain she thought she heard him chuckle—a sultry sound, dominating and demanding.

The whip tapped and stroked her flesh. It brushed her thighs, kissed her feet. Then, as he drew it away another smack sounded. A gush of wind blew around her thighs as the whip crashed between them on the wood. Morrigan moaned, liking the tiny vibration this action caused between her legs. She stiffened, too scared to move lest she get in the whip’s way, but eager for him to do it again.

Sweat beaded on Morrigan’s body. Images and bright colors swam in her brain, carrying thoughts of forbidden passion, of thrusting men upon their women, of women riding hard atop their men, of nails scratching into flesh, of Ualan’s fingers curling around her. Moisture gathered in her sex, wet and hot as her body begged for his touch.

When she did not protest his actions, he became bolder in his game. With a light smack he struck the whip against her calf. It stung the flesh but was not hard enough to hurt her. Leisurely, he slapped her other leg, moving to whack upon her thighs. The whip’s hard kiss brought the blood to her flesh, making it tingle and burn with excitement. Next, the whip snapped her stomach. Morrigan arched her breasts, wanting them to be next. He did not disappoint her. The whip hit her nipples, both at the same time. Its stringy tip felt like the slap of countless fingers.

“Yes,” Morrigan groaned, past her earlier embarrassment, urging him onward.

The whip struck her breasts again, this time more firmly.

“Ah, yes,” she panted, past the point of caring who heard her.

He smacked her stomach, following it with quick succession of blows to her parted thighs. The tips wrapped around her legs. Her hips jerked with each commanding blow.

“Ualan,” she pleaded. Morrigan was beyond anything but the feelings he gave to her. “Please, oh, please.”

V
ery pleased with her response
, Ualan lightly hit her again. The other women in the campground had been making such desperate noises. This fact gave him hope. Finally, she was coming around to accepting him.

Morrigan moaned louder. He watched her body strain and tense. With her blindfolded, he didn’t bother to keep the subtle shift of gold out of his eyes.

Hearing his name on her lips, pleading for him to come to her, Ualan paused. It was almost more than he could bear. Unable to resist, he struck her heated center with his torturous pleasure. The blood rushed to the nub swollen with desire. Her hips bucked hard, spasming with the intense scream of a quickly approaching orgasm. Her body trembled. If he struck her again, she would continue up the rocky path of her climax.

But he did not strike. She was denied release. Ualan sat back on his heels to watch her. She waited, her body tensed and poised. Her mouth opened as if waiting for that moment she could give a climaxing scream. All Draig men knew this was to be a hard night, perhaps one of the hardest in their lives. Self-denial wasn’t something that came easy to a naturally assertive people. He wasn’t finished disciplining her yet. Before he gave her the gift of release, his little bride would know who controlled her, she would know she belonged completely to him.

Ualan tossed the whip aside. Kneeling before Morrigan, he lifted her weakened foot into his hand. She squirmed, absently working her body as if trying to get the will to move but unable to. He found the flesh of her leg, caressing in long strokes. She shivered. His mouth lowered to her foot, kissing her toes before sucking one into his mouth.

He didn’t stop. His mouth was insistently tender, soothing the ache he had whipped into her skin. He trailed his lips over her flesh, both legs, hips, stomach, and breasts but denying their sweet centers. His hands followed—rubbing and stroking. Morrigan strained against her binds. Her head fell back and she gasped for breath. Speechless, she writhed, panted, begged.

“Choose,” he whispered as he made his way to her neck. He paused in his task, his breath hard and heavy, giving away his matching torment. “Choose.”

All Morrigan managed was a whimper. Ualan continued a wayward path over her arms and then pulled back, unable to take much more. She waited, gasping for air. He did not resume his task. Instead, he untied her.

Ualan left her there, waiting for her body to calm from its disappointment. It had been cruel to bring her so far and not give her the release she sought. He was willing to risk a thousand years in the dark dungeon for the memory of her passion laden skin, but he would not risk dishonoring his family name to claim her like he wanted without her permission and the blessing of the council of elders. To do so would make him unworthy of a wife.

“
U
alan
?” Morrigan whispered.

She heard movement and discovered he had freed her. Her hands wound up into her hair, pulling the blindfold from her features with an exhausted tug. Hungrily, her eyes searched for him.

This barbarian was nothing like she’d suspected. Sitting back on his heels, again dressed, he studied her, watching with his cool blue gaze through the opening in his mask.

Vulnerably, she closed her eyes, reminded that he was a stranger. She didn’t even know his face. The words died on her lips unspoken.

Ualan reached to smooth back a tear, curiosity shining in his confused eyes. Without speaking, he stood, motioning his hand for her to do the same. Grabbing a large sheet from the side of the tub, he wrapped her up in its warm depths. Next, he led her to the bed.

Morrigan was too weak to think. Her body could not take another of his punishments. She was tired. Lying next to him, she hugged the sheet to her chest. She lifted herself up on her arm to study his hidden face. He stiffened at her look. Lightly, she stroked the mask, wondering what mysteries it hid from her and almost too scared to find out.