Rajasthani Moon (15 page)

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Authors: Lisabet Sarai

BOOK: Rajasthani Moon
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A climax shimmered just out of reach. His thumb prodded her clit and her crisis leapt closer, but she held back, wanting to bring him to his peak at the same time. His cock trembled and swelled in her grip. He was close, if only she could hold on, hold on…

“No!” The prince wrenched himself away from her. Cecily crumpled to the ground in a sticky heap, her cunny clenching around emptiness. The glittering orgasm evaporated like a mirage.

“What in God’s bloody name…?”

“Not before tonight. The priests told me I must remain chaste until the ritual.” Reaching out his hand, he helped her to her feet. “I’m sorry, Cecily. I should not have succumbed to temptation. We must wait—both of us. We need to concentrate our energies if the ritual is to succeed.” He brushed her sweat-dampened hair out of her eyes and sighed. “I want you so much, lady—you have no idea.”

“I believe I do,” she replied, her voice soft, trying to master her disappointment and frustration. She did not want to subject him to any more pain than what he already had to bear. “I’ve missed you terribly, while you been away. I didn’t expect to feel this way…”

“Nor did I, Cecily.” He stepped away and surveyed her dishevelled state with an ironic grin. “You’re supposed to be our enemy, but, by the three faces of Brahma, I can’t get you out of my thoughts. I went to the temple to purify myself, to clear my mind in preparation, but I swear, you haunted my dreams every night. Every morning I awakened erect with wanting you.”

She stifled the urge to tackle him. He seemed unaware of the way his glorious nakedness affected her. “Tonight it will all end, Pratan.”

“One way or the other…”

“After tonight, you’ll be free. Perhaps when the wolf has been banished you’ll feel differently.”

“I don’t believe that, lady. Do you?”

Cecily didn’t know what to believe.

Chapter Fifteen

“Lie down on the altar so I can bind you.” Amir held up a handful of the robotic ropes. “If anything happens, I can release you with a single command.”

“I don’t need to be bound. The verses require ‘a full and willing sacrifice’.” Cecily perched on the slab of stone in the midst of the ruined temple and peered at a faint glow near the eastern horizon. She crossed her arms over her pendulous bare breasts. Her nipples were aching knots of tension and her pussy was soaked. “How long now?”

Amir consulted his pocket chronometer. “Ten, perhaps fifteen minutes. Of course the counter-spell does not specify exactly when the ritual should take place. We might have to wait until the full moon is directly overhead—hours.”

“God, I hope not.” She rose and paced around the rubble-strewn area. Aside from the granite altar-stone, which they’d draped with a carpet for cushioning, a few shattered columns were all that remained of the ancient edifice. Still, the place seethed with power. Pragmatic as she was, Cecily couldn’t deny the prickly sense that unseen forces surrounded them.

“When I change,” Pratan commented, his voice sombre, “we’ll know it’s time.”

The prince was secured, naked, to a pillar of rock close to the stone rectangle. One of the Rajah’s alumino-quartz devices circled his neck. A silvery chain ran from there to the column. Heavy iron shackles bound his ankles. It appeared Amir didn’t totally trust the strength of the more sophisticated bondage devices.

The chain was long enough to allow Pratan access to the altar, where they planned that the sacrifice would occur. The leg irons would prevent the beast from charging Amir, or running off with Cecily’s body.

The aura of power thickened. Cecily shivered, though it was pleasantly warm atop the mountain.

“I can see the first sliver. Lie down, Cecily! Lie down!”

“There’s no hurry,” she grumbled, but this time she obeyed him, arranging herself on her belly with her meaty posterior aimed in Pratan’s direction. Amir produced a wicked chuckle as she assumed the lewd position. She suppressed the surge of embarrassment that assailed her. This was not the time for delicacy. She’d do whatever was necessary, in order to free the bandit-prince. Anything at all.

She could see neither Pratan nor Amir, as both were both behind her. Closing her eyes, she concentrated her attention on her other senses.

The velvety nap of the rug caressed her skin. Underneath, though, she felt rough, unyielding rock. A faint smoky odour hung in the air, perhaps from past rituals in this holy spot. Wind sighed through the ruins, then died. Now the only sound was her own breathing, fast and shallow.

Using techniques learnt in the
dojo
, she made that breath her focus. She pulled air deep into her lungs, slowly, steadily, releasing some of her tension each time she exhaled. Gradually her fear leached away and her arousal subsided to a tickling hum.

From behind her came a gasp, and low growl. Cecily twisted on her stony couch, in time to see the beast take over.

Pratan voiced a howl of pain as his back bent double. Shaggy black hair sprouted on his chest and abdomen and marched down his shortening brow. His elegant nose elongated into a furry snout. The lips she had so recently kissed thinned into dark, saliva-flecked jaws lined with yellow, pointed teeth. And the bright, soulful eyes she loved transformed into red-rimmed pits of madness.

The metamorphosis took only seconds.

“Growr!” The monster clawed at the collar, obviously enraged at finding himself restrained. His massive cock swung back and forth at his loins like a club.

“Down!” Amir shouted. “Spread your legs and let him get a whiff of you.”

She didn’t respond, not at first. Transfixed by terror and pity, she watched as the wolf-man worried the chain. A beast, he still craved his freedom.

“Lie down, damn it!”

This time she obeyed. Her heart racing like a locomotive, she stretched out once more upon the carpet and elevated her buttocks.

“Go get her, Pratan.” Static crackled and the wolf roared with pain. Amir had brought an electrified prod to help control the creature. “She’s for you!” The device snapped again. The beast wailed.

“Spread, Cecily! Wider! Go on. Take her, Pratan. She’s waiting for you. Fuck her virgin ass.”

Lust and horror washed over her in alternating waves. Cecily squeezed her eyes shut and waited for the worst.

Leg irons clanking, the beast shuffled towards her. His claws grazed her butt cheeks.

“That’s right. Open her up.”
Crackle
! “Grab those fat mounds and ram your cock into her…”

The wolf pawed her, trailing his talons over her flesh, scratching her but not, she thought, drawing blood—not yet. Leaning in—she felt his hot breath in her crack—he buried his drooling muzzle in her crevice, licking both her pussy and her rear hole.

It was disgusting and yet arousing. His rough tongue scoured her folds, drinking up the juices that only flowed more copiously as he poked it into her cunny. Her well-exercised back entrance flexed and gaped. Her sessions with Amir had taught her to crave anal penetration when her pussy was stimulated. Rising to her knees, she arched her back to present herself more completely to him. She didn’t think—she simply followed her instincts.

The monster continued to devour her sex, his teeth raking over her clit and his tongue pushing as deep as an ordinary man’s cock.

“Fuck her ass!” Amir urged. Cecily wanted to second the command. Before she could react, though, the beast seized her and flipped her onto her back with enough force to drive the breath from her lungs. Her thighs hung open, framing her hot, swollen pussy. The wolf-man grabbed her by the hips and yanked her to the edge of the altar. The carpet left stinging burns on her butt cheeks. She scarcely noticed, humping the air, silently begging him to impale her.

The creature ran the knob of his cock up the length of cleft, from her anus to her clit, coating himself with her moisture. Then he drove into her—not into her twitching rear hole, but into her cunt.

Cecily screamed. A bar of molten iron cleft her in two and flaming bliss gushed through the aperture. Her body simply vaporised, leaving nothing but sensation. The wolf pulled out for an instant then rammed her again, sending her spinning into another delirious climax.

“No! No! Not there, you idiot! Her arse!”

Dimly, Cecily noted Amir’s protests. She heard the thud as Pratan shook off his frantic brother. He ploughed her, pushing deep, stretching her beyond possibility. The iron scent of blood teased her nostrils, mingling with the beast’s gamey odour, but she felt no pain, only exquisite, near-unbearable pleasure.

The wolf’s claws bit into her flesh as he held her in position. His thrusts grew ragged and urgent. Cecily knew he was close to spending, and worried, for an instant, about the consequences of possible impregnation, before another orgasm swept all thought away.

The latest waves of delight subsided. The beast pounded her, hard and fast. She opened her eyes and her gaze met his. To her astonishment, something human flickered in those crazed depths.

“Pratan…” she moaned, wrapping her legs around his waist and pulling him deeper into her body. His coarse fur chafed her inner thighs but she gripped tight, urging him over the edge.

Time slowed. The light in the beast’s eyes grew stronger. The huge cock stuffed into her quim swelled larger still, and finally, pain tore into her dazed delight. Still she held on, tightening her legs and her cunt around his impossible bulk. “Come, Pratan,” she whispered as they rocked together. “Come inside me.”

Sudden thunder rent the night. Lightning stitched the blackness above them, and for an instant, the moon paled. The wolf-man howled at the broken sky and exploded, his spunk searing her battered flesh.

With each jerk of his hips, each gush of cum, his monstrous penis shrank. His talons retracted. The fur retreated from his cheeks and brow. His fearsome, toothy maw dwindled and his lips regained their sleek plumpness. In a handful of seconds, the wolf was gone. In his place was the rakish bandit-prince, still pumping his hips and spurting in her cunny.

When his spasms finally died away, Pratan bent to kiss her. She tasted her own juices on his tongue. “I think you did it, Cecily. You’ve freed me. Thank you…”

Joy bubbled in her chest. She hugged him close and nibbled his ear. “Are you sure? How do you know?”

He raised himself on his arms and smiled down at her. “I feel…different. In the past, I had this constant sense of internal pressure. As though something was boiling and threatening to overflow. Those feelings were much stronger with you around. Now, though, they’re gone.”

“But the verses—you didn’t take my arse, and I’m certainly no virgin elsewhere!”

“Magic is tricky. You know that. Sometimes it’s amazingly literal. The counter-spell didn’t actually specify that the wolf needed to penetrate the virgin orifice.”

With impressive care, he extricated his half-hard cock from her depths. He stood up with some difficulty. “My muscles are stiff. And my cock feels as though it’s been assaulted with a coconut grater. But how are you, Cecily? You’re bleeding!” He surveyed her prone form and she realised how many different ways she hurt. The concern she saw in his face was remarkably effective in assuaging that pain.

She swiped her hand through her soaked pussy, then peered at the result. “Only a little. I’ll be fine. ‘Blood and seed’, the verses said.”

“Right.” Embarrassment made him look a decade younger.

Cecily beamed him a reassuring smile. “Don’t be concerned, Pratan. I’m tough. Don’t forget my training.”

“And did that include being ravished by monsters?” He reached out a hand. “Can you sit up?”

“I think so.”

Pratan assisted her to a sitting position, then settled himself beside her, his arm around her shoulder. She huddled against him, shivering. Now that their trial was over, she felt as weak as a baby.

“You’re cold. Let me get your clothes… Damn it, I forgot about the collar and the irons. Where’s my blasted brother? Amir?”

The Rajah lay a few feet from the altar. Cecily slid to her knees by the man’s side, stifling a groan as her muscles protested. “He’s breathing, but not conscious.” She shook the prone body gently. “Your Highness? Amir?”

“Ugh…uh…” The Rajah’s eyes fluttered open. It took several seconds for them to focus. “Cecily? You’re all right? What happened?”

“Give the command to loose these fiendish bonds of yours. And toss me the key to the leg cuffs. Then perhaps we’ll tell you.”

“Pratan!”

“The collar, please!”

“Right, right. Unbind.” The prince pulled off the collar and tossed it aside.

“Here’s the key.” Pratan caught the iron key his brother threw and bent to unfasten the shackles.

As soon as Pratan was free, he headed for the oxcart that had brought them to the summit to retrieve Cecily’s clothing. He assisted her in getting dressed, while Amir watched from a half-sitting position, rubbing the back of his head. “I’ve got a lump the size of a duck egg,” he complained.

“Too bad. You should have known better than to interfere.”

“But… You weren’t… You were supposed to take her in the ass.”

“Apparently that was not necessary.” Pratan grinned down at his brother, then helped him to his feet.

“So you’re cured?”

“I believe so—thanks to Cecily.”

The Rajah turned to her with a graceful bow. “Miss Harrowsmith, thank you. I am in your debt.”

Pratan lifted her in his strong arms, and, with astonishing tenderness, placed her in the cart. Cecily favoured them with her sweetest smile.

“Have no fear. I intend to make very sure that you keep your part of the bargain.”

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