Read Gift of the Goddess Online
Authors: Denise Rossetti
“Bastard! No!”
His hand cracked across her ass. She gasped and Trey slid the head of his cock between her lips. His taste was exactly as she remembered. Hot, salty. Exciting. He stroked her hair, coaxing. “A little more, sweetheart. Just a little.”
Brin pressed with his thumb and squeezed his fingers together, compressing the hood of her clit. His timing was uncanny. Anje jolted, moaning, and a good half of Trey slid into her mouth. He sighed with pleasure. “That’s more like it.”
It was the oddest sensation, feeling his thickness against her palate. His skin was hot and ridged with veins. When she pressed her tongue against his length, he shivered and his shaft twitched.
Now Brin was stroking her tender rear and rocking his thumb deep in her sheath. Anje felt faint with pleasure and pain. She drew on Trey’s flesh and he grunted.
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The shaman’s deep voice said, “Remember how you used your hands on him, Anje? Now do that with your mouth.”
He smacked her, right on the curve where her ass cheek met her thigh. Tears sprang to her eyes. “If you make him offer, scout, you’re to swallow every drop. Understand?”
Another blow, fair on the meat of her buttock, but lighter. “
Understand
?”
Frantically, she nodded her head and Trey yelped with alarm. Brin laughed aloud, full-throated.
She heard his hand swish through the air an instant before the stinging impact on her rear.
He spaced the blows carefully, interspersing them with the nerve-tingling pressure of his thumb in her sex, driving her insane with the juxtaposition of pleasure and pain. There was enough play in her bonds for her to dig her fingers into the back of Trey’s thighs and hang on. The heat in her ass spread to her sex and washed back and forth in an escalating tide of sensation.
Trey kept up a muttered litany of praise, his hands moving in her hair, and she sucked his iron-hard length as deeply as she was able. Remembering the blood-pink beauty of his cock head cradled in her fingers as they rocked to the stride of the vran, she dragged the flat of her tongue over it in a spiral dance that reduced him to incoherence.
The slaps grew lighter, coming at longer intervals, just enough to keep her simmering. Brin pressed his fingers and thumb together in a firm pincer movement, massaging her clit from inside and out. Anje groaned and swallowed another inch of cock flesh. Unconsciously, she spread her legs and arched her back, pushing back into the pleasure.
Trey’s fingers clenched in her hair. His cock swelled in her mouth. “Oh love, love!”
Brin became motionless, one hand buried deep in her body, the other splayed across a fiery cheek. Trey arched his hips, his buttocks hollowed under her hands. A long ripple shuddered up his shaft and he spurted into her throat, warm and slippery and musky.
It was swallow or drown, so Anje swallowed.
She thought she heard Brin groan.
As Trey’s cock softened, she gentled it with her tongue. A last greedy lick and she sighed and let him go. Really, that hadn’t been so bad.
Gentle fingers lifted her chin. Trey knelt and pressed his lips to hers, obviously unfazed by his own flavor. “Sweetheart, that was heaven.” All the little muscles around his eyes and mouth had gone slack. His skin was rosy, smooth with content. He smiled at her and warmth suffused her heart.
She had created that stunned expression of pleasure.
She
.
Her lips quivered so hard, she could barely manage to smile in return. A long ripple of longing coursed through her sheath. She wanted to rub her face all over Trey’s
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body—arm, shoulder, chest—it didn’t matter so long as she could mark him as hers, inhale his essence.
As Brin drew her up and settled her across his chest, she sniffed deeply. Ah Mother, sumptuously masculine. She licked her lips.
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Chapter Fourteen
The seat of sexual pleasure is in the mind. This is the one incontrovertible fact no shaman or priestess may be permitted to forget.
Precepts of the Lady Chelisand, High Priestess of Lufra.
Brin slid his hands deep into her hair and gave her scalp a soothing rub. “Catch your breath, scout.” Gratefully, Anje dropped her head to his broad shoulder, panting. Her bones felt as limp as steamed noodles, though her bum still radiated heat like a baker’s oven.
The shaman bent his head and brushed his lips over her eyebrow. “You were born for this, you know.” He lifted her chin, put his mouth over hers and kissed her with slow relish and a lot of tongue.
The moment he freed her lips, she blurted, “Wasn’t!” and grimaced. She sounded like a petulant child.
“Are you going to listen?” His palm glided over the curve of her ass, the threat implicit.
Anje opened her mouth and shut it hard. Brin raised a brow and rearranged her limbs so she straddled the long ridge in his trews. Holy Mother, the arrogant bastard was still fully clothed, while she was near as naked as a pleasure slave!
He took her face between his palms. “I’ve told you before, Anje, you’re perfect. Well, almost.” He shrugged and a wry smile quirked his mouth. “You’ve got a filthy temper, but life’s nothing without a challenge.”
When she growled a curse, he smiled seraphically. “See? You’re brave and quick and strong. Goddess lovely. But then I’m sure you know that.”
Anje looked down at her rangy, athletic body. Lovely? He thought she was lovely?
To her horror, the tears took her unawares, welling up and spilling down her cheeks. Furiously, she scrubbed them away with her bound hands. Trey patted her knee, but she wrenched herself away from his consoling touch with a snarl.
“That’s what I mean. More guts than sense.” Brin sighed. “Hold still.” He loosed the ties around her wrists.
“Strong is what you are, Anje, and greater strength is what excites you.” He glanced down at her vulnerable sex, stretched damp and open over his mountainous erection. Casually, he laid the very tip of his index finger inside the pouty little mouth of her vagina. She jerked.
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“Every slap made you wetter, scout. And the thought of getting your virgin ass fucked made you flood. Your eyes are bright with Lufra’s fire.”
The spit dried in her mouth. She shook her head.
“We’ll put it to the test, shall we?” Gently, he slid his finger all the way into her sheath, cupping her sex in the palm of his big warm hand.
“What next?” He sighed theatrically. “Such an infinite range of possibilities.”
He lounged back, completely at ease, the dark stubble on his jaw giving him the look of a barbarian lord. “Your first duty will be to undress me.”
He stroked her deep inside and she clenched her fists. “That seems to meet with your approval, scout.”
His voice dropped to a rumbling purr. “Then you can show me what you’ve learned about cock sucking.” The walls of her sheath twitched against his finger. Smiling, he pressed the heel of his hand lightly into her clit and she caught her breath.
“While you prepare me with your mouth, Trey might be kind enough to prepare your ass. We’ve got a whole jar of cream.”
“Delighted.” The width of Trey’s grin said he told no more than the truth.
“You’re utterly depraved!” Anje snapped.
Brin opened his eyes very wide. The goddess fire blazed deep in each dilated pupil and his grin had pure devil in it. “Really, scout?” He pulled his hand free of her body and showed her his glistening palm. “Then so are you.”
He relaxed against the wall and stretched out his long legs. “Trey, get these boots off for me, will you?”
When Anje sat frozen, he grinned at her. “Don’t you want me naked?” he asked and to that, there was no possible answer. Her pulse thudding, she ripped the shirt off over his head and he lifted his arms to help her in a lazy stretch of muscle and bone and sinew that made her heart lurch with longing.
When his hair fell into his eyes, she brushed it back with an impatient exclamation. He seized her wrist and kissed it.
The tears threatened again, but she bit them back and concentrated on unlacing his trews. With an odd detachment, she noticed her fingers trembled. Brin’s cock sprang into her hands, huge and hot, and she clutched at it.
He grunted a warning and Trey murmured, “Gently love, don’t strangle him.” His fingers unlaced hers and she thought he got in a subtle stroke of his own. She was sure of it when Brin’s cock leaped in their grasp and he grated, “Stick to the boots, Trey!”
Between them, she and Trey wrestled the trews off the shaman’s long legs. Brin didn’t help, but he didn’t hinder them either. His passivity, his barely leashed control, only increased Anje’s confusion. On the one hand, she felt like a small, tasty, woodland creature, a predator’s dinner. On the other…
Her heart hammered.
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The urge to hurl herself at that indolently beautiful body and devour it in a couple of greedy bites was overwhelming. She was determined to resist, but Holy Mother, she thought she might die of it.
She was conscious of Trey beside her at the shaman’s feet, his warm shoulder touching hers, his breath shallow with excitement. Without shifting her gaze from the magnificent prospect of Brin laid out before them like a feast, she put out her hand. At once, Trey kissed the palm and then pressed it to his groin. But he didn’t turn his head by the smallest fraction. She cupped his balls, ran a gentle thumb up the side of his shaft.
Poor Trey. So lost in his desperate hunger.
A slither of something astonishingly perverse blossomed within her. Shocked and titillated, she examined it from all angles and found it so bad, it was marvelous.
The shaman wanted to play domination games, did he?
He was flaunting himself for her, the bastard. She stared at the dips and hollows of all that splendid masculinity, the drift of hair down his center, the glow of olive-toned health. The dragon on his belly snarled and his cock reared in delightful invitation. It was so high, it strafed his navel.
He loved it.
She was dying for him.
If it was bad for her, how must Trey be suffering? Poor love, she owed him whatever satisfaction she could give.
And she knew what he wanted.
She sat back on her heels and raised a brow. “Now what, your high and mightiness?”
Brin’s lips went tight. “Remember what happens when you push, Anje?”
Indeed she did. Her empty flesh ached and wept.
His eyes narrowed. “Take the shirt off,” he ordered. “And get up here. I want your mouth.”
Anje shrugged out of the tattered shirt and slid her hands up his long thighs, hair rasping under her fingers. Trey had the most beautiful legs she’d ever seen on a man, slim and sturdy and graceful, but Brin’s were columns of muscle. His thigh was nearly thicker around than her waist. Her hands encountered a curved depression, and she paused, puzzled, tracing it with the pad of one finger.
“I told you about that,” murmured Trey. She stroked the shape the vran’s hoof had stamped in Brin’s flesh. On impulse, she dipped her head and laid her lips to the scar.
“Forget that.” Brin’s hard hand tugged at her shoulder. “Get up here.”
Trey gave her a shrug and an aching half-smile. Determination firmed inside her. Blinking hard, she shuffled forward and bent her head.
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As the dark curtain of her hair drifted over his thighs and stomach, Brin hissed and his hips arched. He took a handful and dragged it across the head of his cock, the soft strands sticking for an instant before slipping away with a last reluctant caress.
His fist bunched in her hair and she stilled, her head at an awkward angle. His voice was a harsh rasp. “On your knees. Get that ass in the air.” He tugged her down into the musky, enticing forest of his genitals. “Start with the balls. Get them good and wet.”
Working slowly, Anje laid the flat of her tongue on his testicles and laved him up and down, round and round. She rolled his balls inside their sac, like round, ripe fruits in her mouth.
When Trey slathered cream over the burning flesh of her buttocks with generous fingers, she moaned with relief and pleasure. It felt blessedly cool and his touch was so gentle. His erection nudged her side as he dotted kisses down her spine. “That better?”
Brin’s balls were drawn up so tight and hard, Anje suspected they must be painful. She hoped so.
She ran her tongue up the underside of his cock and over the sweet spot under the head, hoping she’d made it worse. He remained completely still beneath her touch, his whole body rigid with tension, only the veins in his shaft throbbed against her lips.
Trey murmured, “Your wings are so pretty.” He traced a sinuous pattern over her back with his forefinger, dipping it down occasionally to the cleft between her buttocks. Anje wriggled. Juices slid down her thigh.
Brin fisted the base of his cock. “Open wide, scout.”
His girth stretched her lips, rubbed against her palate. He was so gorgeously smooth, the skin of the heart-shaped head like taut velvet.