Rajasthani Moon (12 page)

Something shifted in her mind. In synchrony with her desperate thought, without a single touch, bound and alone, Cecily did come. All at once she was quivering as pleasure flooded up from her depths and washed through her.

It wasn’t the most powerful climax she’d ever experienced, but it was enough, for the moment, to bring her some peace.

The amplified voices torturing her had died to intimate whispers.
Another one of Amir’s clever inventions,
Cecily mused, her mind muddled with sleep.
I imagine it could be quite useful in espionage.
She smiled into the shadows that draped her room, feeling as though she’d in some small way thwarted the Rajah’s devious designs, before she drifted into satisfied dreams.

Chapter Twelve

What?

Cecily started awake, her heart hammering against her ribs. Forgetting that she was shackled, she tried to sit upright. Alumino-quartz cuffs bit into her wrists and ankles, forcing her back against the mattress.

She peered into the darkness, trying to determine what had roused her. Someone had been in the room while she’d slept, it seemed, or perhaps the glow-globes could be remotely controlled. In any case, the fixtures were extinguished. The only light came from the waxing moon, shining in the open window.

Her prone position limited her field of view to some extent, but, as far as she could tell, she was alone. A rusty smell hung in the air, a scent that was somehow familiar though she couldn’t place it. Holding her breath, she listened to the silence. Her own elevated heartbeat was loud in her ears, but otherwise she heard nothing unusual.

Still, her instincts told her to be wary.

“Hello?” she whispered. “Is someone there?”

“Grrr.” The low growl sent icy fingers crawling up her spine. She twisted frantically towards the origin of the sound, behind and to the right of the bed. A dark, menacing shape lurked in the corner. Even as she caught sight of its hairy bulk, it lurched in the direction of the bed.

“Growr!” The roar froze her in place. The creature clambered onto the mattress and settled between her splayed thighs, looming over her. Talon-tipped claws rifled her hair. His eyes were scarlet-rimmed pools of blackness, threatening to drown her. He leaned closer, pinning her with his fiendish gaze. All the while his stone-hard erection poked at her cleft, sliding back and forth in the wet remnants of her earlier climax.

His lipless mouth gaped in a parody of a smile as he bent closer still. Cecily closed her eyes, awaiting the agony of those enormous canines ripping into her throat. Instead the tearing came from below, as he pushed the head of his massive cock into her channel. It was far bigger than any phallus, real or simulated, she’d ever tried to accommodate. Red-tinged pain arced away from her abused tissues. He jerked his hips, forcing another inch or two past her strained entrance. Her clit buzzed from the pressure, but the swarming pleasure could not compete with the protests from her over-stretched muscles.

He growled again, feral and angry, grinding his pelvis against her resisting flesh. Blood dripped onto her chest from his slavering maw. The hot, iron-scented breath in her face thawed her into action.

“Aiyee!” she screamed, with every ounce of volume she could muster. “Get off me! Stop! Help!” She thrashed beneath him, mentally cursing the Rajah for immobilising her. “Someone! Bhuni! Help me!”

Her struggles appeared to inflame the beast’s lust. He bore down, and his monstrous organ claimed another increment of depth. Her battered cunny was taut and raw. The wetness she felt was surely blood.

“Please…!”Apparently tiring of her yells, the creature clamped one huge, hairy palm over her nose and mouth. Cecily could scarcely breathe. She sank into semi-consciousness, the pain fading and her mind spinning away.
What an ignominious way for Her Majesty’s most trusted agent to expire—fucked to death by a giant wolf.

The creature’s thrusts grew wilder and more urgent.
What will happen if he spends inside me?
Cecily thought, giddy from lack of oxygen.
Will I give birth to little wolfies…?

Enormous tension gathered in his powerful body as the wolf-man hung on the edge of climax. Then, without warning, his muscles went slack. His hand slipped from her mouth. Cecily gulped air, filling her aching lungs.

The swollen bulk buried between her legs tore away as the beast’s body tumbled sideways off the bed and thudded to the floor. Her abraded tissues screamed and fluttered around emptiness. Someone switched on the glow-globes and Cecily screwed up her eyes at the sudden brightness. Her pussy, her head, her joints—everything hurt. Pain seemed the only reality. She let it take over.

“Cecily. Cecily! Are you all right?” The pale oval hovering over her resolved itself into Sarita’s lovely face, frowning in apparent concern.

Cecily blinked, still dazed with pain. “Uh—ah—I think so… Am I bleeding? Down there?”

The courtesan disappeared for a moment. Light fingers dabbed at Cecily’s lower tissues, making her wince despite the tentative nature of the touch. “I don’t think so. You’re wet, but I don’t see any blood.”

“I thought he’d rip me open,” Cecily murmured. “That I’d bleed to death. I couldn’t do anything at all, thanks to the Rajah’s damned restraints…” Sarita had already unfastened the wrist cuffs. Cecily lowered her arms to her sides. “Ow! God, that hurts.”

“I’m sure my Lord didn’t mean you to come to any harm.” Sarita’s speed in releasing Cecily’s bonds suggested extensive practice.

“Well, the bastard—your damned master—almost killed me.” With painful effort, Cecily managed to prop her battered body up against the headboard. “If I’d died, it would have been his fault, not Pratan’s.” She craned her neck, surveying the naked, unconsciousness prince on the floor. All signs of his beast nature had vanished, aside from the gore spattered on his face and chest. He looked devastatingly handsome. “What did you do, anyway? How did you stop him?”

Sarita held up a small silver knife. “I’ve been carrying it ever since the incident in the library.” She wiped the blade on the already bloodstained sheets and tucked it into a jewelled scabbard at her waist. Her eyes held Cecily’s for a long moment. “We’re even now.”

A rush of affection and gratitude melted Cecily’s irritation. “Thank you, Sarita. I mean that sincerely. And I swear to you, I want no part of the Rajah’s attentions. He’s all yours. Though I have to say, I don’t think he deserves you.”

“Ah—uh…” Choked sounds emanated from Pratan’s throat as he regained his senses. “What…?” He sprang to his feet, and whirled around, taking in the scene. “By Shiva’s trident!” His eyes whipped from Cecily to Sarita and back to Cecily. “You’re covered with blood. Oh, damn it all, what have I done?”

“I’m not hurt, Pratan—at least not badly…” Cecily began.

“But you killed Bhuni,” Sarita continued. “That’s her blood, on your body and on Cecily’s.”

“Oh, no—no!”

“I think she tried to stop you. You were headed to Cecily’s room…”

“What? Why? Why is this all happening? Why did I change? This is the third night in a row…” The prince paced and tugged at his hair as though he’d pull it out by the roots. “I can’t stand any more of this! I’ll kill myself!”

 
Cecily levered herself out of bed, trying to ignore the complaints of her over-taxed joints and muscles. Grabbing him as he passed, she pulled him around to face her. She stifled the urge to kiss him, settling for a sisterly pat on the shoulder. “Hush, Pratan. Don’t say that. You couldn’t help yourself. Calm down and let’s think this through.”

“Stay away from me, Cecily. I might turn again.” His voice was laced with panic.

“Sarita has her blade. I’m not worried.”

He raked his gaze over her blood-spattered body. She recalled the fiery void of the beast’s eyes and shuddered. “You’re really not injured?”

“You—you mounted me.” Cecily discovered she was blushing. “The wolf is enormous, much bigger than you… I mean, you have a fine cock, but… Anyway, it was rather rough. But I seemed to have survived.”

He sank into a chair, his legs sprawled in front of him. Cecily noticed that the organ in question was half-erect, perhaps as a result of their discussion topic.

“But I didn’t try to murder you, to rip your throat open?”

“That’s what you did to Bhuni,” Sarita interjected.

“But not me. You seem more interested in sex than in anything else…”

Pratan’s cock had swelled further. Gingerly, Cecily seated herself on the edge of the bed. She forced herself to focus on Pratan’s face. He looked serious, thoughtful, disturbed. Wounded. Beautiful.

“Perhaps, Cecily,” he said finally, “you are my mate.”

“What?” Sarita and Cecily cried in unison.

“What kind of nonsense are you talking?” Cecily fidgeted on the mattress, trying to find a more comfortable position for her aching limbs. She did not at all like the turn the conversation had taken.

“I’ve studied the legends and shifter lore, seeking a solution to my own dilemma, as well as the ways of natural wolves. All sources agree that the pair bond is of paramount importance to the wolf pack. Barring death or accidents that affect one member of a pair, wolves mate for life. The arcana dealing with wolf-shifters claim we have the same behaviour.”

“But I’m not a shifter.”

“You might become one. Some people say that a werewolf’s bite will have that effect.”

“But…you didn’t try to bite me. Apparently, you just wanted to fuck me…”

Pratan sighed and rubbed his temples. “I don’t know. Perhaps it
is
all nonsense, as you say. But you can’t deny, since I’ve met you, my—problem—has become much more severe.”

“I’m sorry, Pratan…”

“It’s not your fault. I mean, perhaps you are the causal agent, but I understand that it’s not intentional.”

“Certainly not.” Cecily sniffed, oddly relieved.

“Forget I even mentioned this stuff about mating. It’s merely a theory.” With another heart-rending sigh, he struggled to his feet, awkward and stiff. He seemed to have aged by decades. “In any case, I must leave as soon as possible. Get back to the mountains where I can’t do so much damage…”

A heaviness settled in Cecily’s chest.
I don’t want him to go
, she realised.
Regardless of how dangerous he might be. I need to tell him…

“Brother! I just heard—”Amir swept into the room, and gathered Pratan to his chest, heedless of the blood smearing his white silk robe.

Pratan slipped out of the embrace to kneel at the Rajah’s feet. “I have taken the life of one of your citizens—one of your guards. I await your justice, Your Highness.”

“Don’t be an ass. I know you’re not responsible.”

“I am the one who spilled Bhuni’s blood…”

“Not you, brother. The beast did it. The beast my mother made of you. If anyone bears responsibility, it is she.” Amir dragged Pratan back to a standing position. “You deserve no punishment. The cross you bear is more than punishment enough.”

“You may absolve me, Amir—but my conscience will not. From today I choose exile. I will return to the wild reaches, where only the birds and the animals need fear me.” Squaring his shoulders, the naked prince headed for the door. Amir and Sarita clearly believed that interference was futile. Neither tried to stop him.

Desperation seized Cecily by the throat. If he left, she might never see him again.

“Wait! Wait, Pratan!” As the other occupants of the room turned their attention to her, Cecily suddenly recalled that she was nude.
Never mind.
She had more important things to worry about. “There’s something you should know.”

“Yes, Miss Harrowsmith?” The Rajah’s eyes glittered like a snake.

“I found—I think I might have found—some information on reversing the curse.”

The Rajah seized her wrist in an iron grip. “Why didn’t you tell us before?”

“I’m—I’m not sure—I was doing further research…”

Pratan grabbed her shoulder on the other side, shaking her till her teeth rattled. “Tell me, Cecily! What did you find?”

“Some verses stuck into an old magic book that belonged to the queen—they are rather cryptic, but they could be understood as instructions for a ritual—”

She recited the stanzas from memory. “I left the parchment in the book,” she added. “I can show it to you, if you don’t believe me.”

Amir, Pratan and Sarita all began speaking at once, ignoring her offer.

“‘Abu’s heights’ obviously means Mount Abu,” said Amir. “A sacred mountain about two hundred and fifty miles from here,” he added for Cecily’s benefit.

“Full moon—of course that makes sense, since that’s when you change…” Sarita sounded as excited as her master.

“Except for recently,” Pratan’s sour voice joined the chorus. “But ‘wild and bloody nights’—that sounds right.”

“It’s not so obscure,” the Rajah insisted. “We simply need a virgin to sacrifice herself to Pratan’s beast, and he’ll be cured.”

“You mean to be fucked by him? That’s asking quite a lot,” Cecily interjected. “Believe me.”

“And where,” Pratan asked, his expression sombre, “are you going to find a virgin in Rajasthan—willing or not? Your subjects tend to follow your lead, Rajah. Chastity is not highly valued in this kingdom.”

A dejected quiet settled on the group. Pratan stared out of the window. Sarita moulded her body to the Rajah’s, her head against his breast, as though trying to comfort him. Cecily took the opportunity to grab her discarded
choli
from the night before. The crumpled skirt and bodice made her feel somewhat less vulnerable.

Pratan wheeled back towards his brother. “I’ll need a horse, Amir-ji. Can you supply one—in half an hour or thereabouts?”

“Don’t go, brother. The ritual—we have the knowledge that we need now. The only problems revolve around the implementation.”

“Insurmountable problems, as far as I can see. The ritual requires a virgin, one who agrees to be impaled by a cock the size of a normal man’s arm. The experience will probably kill her. Where will you find a woman willing to make such a sacrifice?”