Rivka the Dove

II

He called me shortly after dinner. He lounged across his throne, simmering with that diffuse anger I soon learned resulted from any encounter with the warrior princess. Princess, hah! Her mother ran a tavern. I could lay better claim to nobility - before.

"Have you decided?" he barked at me.

I knelt before him. "Lord, I will stay."

He was on me in a flash, winding about me as tho his body held no bones. His voice was night dark in my ears, the smell of wine and cinnamon from his breath teasing my nose.

"And why will you stay, little Rivka?"

I twisted slightly away from the tickling of his beard. "Where else would I go?" The bitterness of my voice surprised me. "I've no training to defend myself. If I leave, within 5 miles I will be someone else's prize. Better to stay here, protected." I twisted more and looked directly into his midnight eyes. "Nothing can be worse than what was."

He ran a calloused finger softly over my face, then gently leaned in until our lips were almost touching. "You can always say no..." he breathed then touched his mouth to mine.

Yes, I thought, say no and be expelled from his protection. I kissed him back - it meant nothing to me. I never allowed sex to affect me. I gave no one that kind of power over me.

Bedding a god does have advantages, tho. I found myself transported to a large bed, Feather mattress, silken hangings, incense in the air - all the things that bards sing about when they sing of seductions and undying love.

His hands were deft, stripping me of the clothing I wore, and touching me in a hundred places at once it seemed. It felt good - too good.

As soon as I realized what was happening, I resisted. "Lord, no, let me..." I used my huskiest voice.

Obligingly he settled back to allow me access to him. I kept my mind focused on pleasuring him, using the tricks Deimonius and Hetradite had taught me. They were most inventive.

Soft nips, tender kisses pressed to pleasuring spots, flickering touches, near misses of his cock and balls, then the long slow trip up his muscled calves and thighs, across his lean hips and teasingly onto his inner thighs.

When I judged by his breathing that he was balanced between pleasure and pain, I tipped him over into pleasure. I began with the barest of touches on the purpling head of his erect cock, always alert for signs of either his pleasure or displeasure with my actions.

When he began trying to thrust more of himself into my mouth, I complied, allowing him farther in, and sucking more forcefully. Minutely I began to increase the depth and the pressure of my mouth on his cock.

I brought my fingers up to my mouth, using them and my tongue to add to his enjoyment. With wet fingers and palm I stroked the length of his godhood that I could not swallow, and traced the heavy ridges of his balls. The gentlest of pressures tickled the small fold of skin behind them and causing him to arch off the bed.

But I had miscalculated. This was no ordinary mortal, easily lulled into mindless ecstasy by a talented mouth. It was as tho he could read me. Perhaps he could, he was a god. He forced me away, frightening me that I had somehow displeased him and would pay the price for my impudence.

His smile was lazy and slightly cruel and very assured. "No, little Rivka, not our first time. I want to hear you scream for me..." I know I blanched in fear, for he laughed aloud.

"You do not trust easily. Good. Conquering you will be that much more pleasurable - for both of us."

His mouth traced a dewy path down my throat. He feasted at the tiny mounds so lately risen on my chest. My nipples, traitors they, flared to hardness under his knowing mouth and tongue. I twitched restlessly, my hands tracing mindless patterns on his arms and back.

"Yes," he hissed, as I found one particular spot. "That's right, build my fire too, little one."

He snaked a line down my body, pausing to trace the lines of my hips with a heavy tongue. I was loosing the battle to feel nothing. I moaned in pleasure before I could stifle it, and felt his chuckle.

He kissed gently over my barely furring mound, then began to gently pry my nether lips apart with soft, feathery kisses, teasing them until I could feel myself moistening. I moaned again , as much in pleasure as anger at myself for allowing this to happen, but I could not ignore the sensations he aroused in me..

Finally, his lips fastened on my little bud. Gently, as a loving husband with a new bride, he coaxed it and made me writhe under his lips and tongue and hands.

My hips danced like an Egyptian scarf dancer, I could not keep them still. He knew too much of a woman's body and was too determined, for whatever reason. I felt a pressure building, centered on my awakened womanhood. It became harder to draw enough air into my lungs.

Without my consent, my hands tangled into his raven curls and held his head tight against me. I heard my scream from far away, as the world shattered under his tongue and I broke apart. For the first time I orgasmed with someone, instead of on my own fingers.
It was different, deeper and better and longer than I had ever experienced.

When I finally opened my eyes, he was poised above me, grinning hugely in triumph. "Now again, my dove. Again." And he plunged his cock and tongue inside me.

For the first time, there was no pain as I was entered. I could no longer control my traitorous body, as my hips rose to cradle him and my hands pulled his hips down to me. I met each of his thrusts with an answering one of my own. His cock throbbed inside me, and his tongue, tasting of my own essence, dueled with my own. I could smell myself on his beard, mixed with some indefinable scent that was his own alone.

I climaxed again, with him buried so deeply in me it was nearly painful. Before I could recover from the goldenness of the moment, I was turned over and he reburied himself in me, taking me as a dog takes a bitch in heat.

I suppose at that moment I was no more than that, as I threw my head back and ululated my pleasure to the ether. I felt his lips and beard tracing my neck, as his hips bucked against me harder and harder with each thrust.

One hand fastened on my hip, pulling me tightly against him, the other tickled beneath me, and we both crested again with harmonious shouts.

I slowly recovered my sanity, to find myself cradled against him, his bearded mouth teasing the back of my neck even still.

He seemed to know when I was once more centered within my body. He turned me tenderly and kissed me again.

"I knew more fire burned in you than just hatred for Deimonius. I shall enjoy coaxing that flame to burn always." His kiss this time was savage. "Tell me the fire is mine to train. Tell me." He demanded.

Perhaps it was more than just the desire to remain safe in his protection. I have always told myself it was no more than that. I do not know, but I agreed. "It is yours to train, Lord. I am yours to train." And I reached up and pulled his mouth to my own.