Dark Passions: Dark Romance Boxed Set, page 72
She brought some snow into her empty bowl, cleaning it out as she listened to his orders. Grateful for the reminder that the increase in their numbers meant shorter watches for everyone, she finished cleaning the bowl and placed it back in the bag, she stared off into the fire, lost in thought.
The quietly disgruntled men dared a look at her when they thought Ara’bor wasn’t watching them, but no more was chanced as they wearily trudged off to the tent in line. They had worked a long day and had no words left in them as they vanished back around the stones to the tent hidden within the cranny of the mountains. At this point they were just grateful to rest.
Ara’bor, however, stayed put, his position at the fire giving him a look out through the narrow opening that peered off towards the slope of the mountain. “Feel free ta curl up by the fire an’ nap again before yer shift,” he said, resting his weight forward onto his spread knees, “I know ya ain’t been sleepin’ well for days.”
She didn’t know why he was being so kind to her -- guilt? Did bandits and murderers feel guilt? -- but it didn’t matter. She was grateful for it. Leaning back slightly, she curled her legs into her body, huddling for warmth as she gave him a tight smile and a nod, a light ‘thanks’ coming out of her breath in a huff of steam. She stared off, between wakefulness and sleep for a long time, never fully drifting off.
Lifting himself from the small fire, Ara’bor spent most of his time by the opening, peering out over the dark mountainside. Elin didn’t have the same frights and panicked starts throughout her half-sleep, and the hours passed almost peacefully despite the growing fear of her companions.
Sometime before the end of his own shift, he returned to seat himself beside her, a little more closely than he was known to. His thickly muscled, and heavily armoured form was a quite noticeable presence as he brushed against her.
The loneliness and isolation should have been something she was used to, but truthfully, it wore on her as well. These men, they had options in life. They had other things they could do, but they didn’t, for whatever reason.
She had no choice. She was shunned, an outcast, an outsider, and the loneliness of their situation weighed heaviest upon her. It only grew as the two men became more antagonistic towards her, and she found Ara’bor’s closeness welcome.
“You ever get tired of this?” she muttered lightly, not daring to raise her voice and rouse the others.
Squat down onto the stone surface of the mountain slope beside her, he rested his wrists upon his knees, elbows to the side. His voice was deep and gruff as he spoke, though quiet enough that it wouldn’t travel back to the tent further in. “All the time,” he admitted.
He was never a big talker. His mind always seemed to be on bigger things, but as he looked aside at her he had more to say, “Wouldn’t be so bad if we could still pop into a town now n’ again though. Men’s minds start ta fray’ bein’ up in these hills too long. Gets hard ta keep ‘em together.”
She nodded, her eyes sparkling with the light fire, taking a breath in. Even if they could pop into a town, she couldn’t, and she was surprised by how it made her feel just slightly less lonely with the reminder that they shared her plight. She licked over her lips, “Yea, know the feeling.”
As calm and stoic as ever, Ara’bor nodded slightly to her words. With a strong face marked below with a natural pitch-black goatee and moustache that ended there but for a slight sprinkling of hairs along part of his jawline, he otherwise had a smooth complexion, naturally needing to do little to keep his appearance up. “I know you do,” he stated, reaching up and stroking his beard as he watched her in silence.
She slowly brought her eyes to him, skirting over his face as she tried to puzzle out why he was being so chatty with her. “Why bitch over what I can’t have though?” she said with a hint of bitterness.
His skin was a sandy brown, and his lashes and eyebrows were as perfectly black as his hair, rimming his dark eyes. Hesitating a moment he spoke up again, “If we can break outta this valley an’ head south, there’re cities there big enough where even you can slip in and go safely unnoticed for a while.” Lifting an arm, he hefted the thick limb then placed it slowly behind her back in a casual manner, resting his hand on her opposing shoulder.
Her head and neck jolted, her eyes wide and disbelieving as she shook her head. “There’s no such place.” She turned her attention back to the dim fire, swallowing a lump in her throat, “You don’t need to lie to me.”
Her shock at his words distracted her from the heavy limb across her shoulders. She’d been told all her life what she was, what she deserved. Death. Pain. Punishment.
It was a miracle that she made it this far in life.
His gaze held out at the entrance to their little nook, he peered back at her, “Ain’t a lie,” he stated simply. Licking his own lips in the cold night air, he continued, “Down south there’s cities bigger’n all of ‘em up here put together. Nobody pays heed ta a lass with her hood up an’ head down. Everyone figures she’s jes’ tryin’ ta avoid trouble.”
She was so cautious about getting excited. Every bit of good news she’d received had turned out to be less than honest. Still, at that moment, she wanted to believe him more than anything else and she found herself blinking away tears. Her breathing was shallow, a bit higher in her chest as she shook, “How... how long would it take?”
Shrugging his broad shoulders, he rubbed his hand over her opposing arm. “Months at best,” he stated. “Assumin’ we can find a way outta this fuckin’ valley in one piece.” That had been one of their aims for a long time now. Either wait out the hunt of the guards, or get out of the valley to hit other areas. Neither had materialized, or showed any sign of doing so. Pausing, he added, “One place I knew, the men and women there held themselves wrapped head ta toe in cloth from tha day they were married on. Never showin’ no more’n their eyes.”
“Heh,” she laughed softly, a one note song as she stared off, lost in thought for a long time, moments dragging on in silence. “I can take my shift if you wanted to get some sleep,” Elin offered, finally.
He turned his gaze down to her and kept it there. Watching her, he didn’t say anything but a simple “Not yet,” his dark, and most often intimidating stare softened. There was something different about it. It wasn’t a cold look, nor was it exactly smoldering, but there was some desire there, as if a silent question, punctuated at last by a squeeze and a tug of his hand on her shoulder.
Her breathing caught in her throat, her eyebrows darting up at the centre, uncertain. She suddenly felt the weight of his arm around her, and her heart pounded. She blinked a few times to clear the fog of confusion, but her lips parted slightly, glancing back to the tent, then to him. She knew there was something there. She’d traveled with him long enough that she felt she had a good reading on him, but this was something new. Something different, and she didn’t know that saying no was an option. He’d saved her, protected her from those two assholes, and she momentarily wondered if his protection wouldn’t fade if she didn’t comply.
“I don’t want to die up here,” she finally said. The implication was clear. She was asking for his help to get her through these next months. Alive.
He kept her gaze unflinchingly, bringing his free hand over to her from his knee. The wool undercoating was pulled back, so his bare rough fingers stroked along her jawline, appreciating her in what almost amounted to a moment of tenderness as his head tilted. “I won’t allow that. No matter what.” He rarely said anything without purpose, and his few chosen words were known to be taken meaningfully.
Her lips parted in the centre, for just a moment as she made her choice. Neither of her options would normally be something she’d seek out, but up in the lonely mountains, she sought to keep what protection that she could.
He was the only thing standing between her and the two animals in the tent, and with the briefest, most subtle of motions, she shifted towards him. She was a bit thinner than preferable in these snowy lands, and her demon tainted blood marked her to the point that she’d never felt true affection, true concern for her well-being. His slight amounts of tenderness shook her to her core, despite his earlier violation.
She knew that he, like all others, had no fondness for her demonic heritage, even if he tolerated it more than most. But maybe years of camaraderie and months of isolation had changed him. He accepted her subtle answer, bending his head down to her so that his lips finally contacted her body, kissing the corner of her mouth as his hand slipped back across her cheek, knitting thick digits through her curly hair. He was such a large man compared to her, and the months in the mountains had done little to impact that, turning him into pure muscle, the natural padding melted away on a slim diet of necessity.
Her long, black hair had lost some of its curl with her fitful sleeping, but she wouldn’t deny the touch felt good. Her breathing halted as she felt his lips pressed against her, and her body trembled softly. She was no stranger to carnal lust. As a part demon it was practically her birthright to be abused by people in the most heinous ways, but the tender act of a kiss had eluded her into her adult years. She kept her eyes open, focusing on him as she shivered, swallowing heavily.
Never a gentle man as such, that first kiss was uncharacteristically tender and light. It quickly became something else, his warm tongue moistly prodding through her lips. A hand travelled down from her shoulder underneath her arm to grasp her breast through her shirt, his fingers in her hair tugging her in tightly against his face as he began to more aggressively make his moves upon her slender form.
He bent her so easily, her body yielding as her head dropped back, her cloak brushing open and revealing that she had kept the belt, her trousers tightly bound at her waist. She wasn’t surprised by how quickly his lusts had grown, and she did nothing to impede his ability to get to what he wanted of her body.
They were both bundled tight against the cold, but that didn’t stop him from prying a hand through her top to feel flesh beneath. She was so much softer than he, even on her slight frame, with a tight makeshift-bra strapped around her chest, simple clothing keeping her shielded from the cold, but not his touch. The warm sensation of soft breast flesh to his fingertips, such a slight thing, was like finding an oasis in the desert. Feeling his hand delve beneath her bra to that firm mound of flesh caused her to squirm, her nipples so sensitive against his coarse fingertips.
His tongue delved into her mouth deeply, large body shifting as he turned towards her, tugging her into his grasp as a low, guttural groan rumbled from his chest.
She allowed him to move her like a doll, her exotic eyes fluttering shut. She couldn’t say she wanted it, but she wasn’t dreading it in the same manner she had the other night. There wasn’t the heart stopping panic and fright, at least, and she couldn’t deny her body had grown warm for him.
He grew ravenous, his powerful frame almost crushing down around her as he forced his tongue down her mouth and groped at her breast flesh. It wasn’t the violent, sudden attack of nights before, but he was passionate. Eventually he released her hair, bringing his hand down to squeeze at her chest through her clothes as the other hand still groped that little bit of heavenly teat it could find before making its way down. He began to undo the belt, their lips beginning to smack wetly.
She found it strange that her main concern was the other two waking to find them enthralled, and so she desperately tried to be quiet, her lips pressing largely against his to try to silence the soft sounds of their kissing. She didn’t resist him, her breathing coming on a little bit harder. She was frightened, but she found the affection, or what could pass as it, to be somehow soothing. The state of terror that she’d been living in the past few days had stiffened her body and as he worked against her, she willed herself to relax.
He was her protector.
The bristles of his black hair were not too coarse, they had a bit of softness to them, not unlike the smooth, silken strands of his hair. They tickled at her face as he kissed her, his hand working off the belt, then prying open her pants beneath. He bent himself to her, twisting their bodies into position so that he was over her, and her head rested back to the flat stone surface of the mountain beneath.
It wasn’t the same as before, but she still felt that pit in her stomach, that residual fright and feeling of wrongness, even as she succumbed to his form. She didn’t know if it was his silent offers, his ability to keep the other men from her, or just the lonely isolation rotting her brain, but as she lay below him, there was no motion of protest, her full lips trembling as he exposed her body to the cold, night air.
This time they hadn’t the protection of the tent, just the rock ledges that shielded their cranny from the harsh winds of the mountain. Noting that, Ara’bor twisted her around in his grasp, realigning her so that her backside touched against his front. He kept up with the lewd kisses, tonguing her mouth as he tugged down her pants enough to bare her bottom and cunny. He then moved to his own, undoing the clasps until his bare loins pressed to hers, trying to shield them both from the elements as his thick, powerful arms clutched her in tight unyielding embrace.
Her tongue just briefly flicked across his as he had done to hers. She was so easily manipulated in his grasp. Her arms shifted to keep her up off the hard stone just barely, as she felt her ass become more exposed, first to the air, and then to his skin, gasping at the feel of hot flesh on hers. She trembled still, fright rushing through her, unable to fully separate this act from the countless assaults of her life.
He rubbed himself against her, the length of his throbbing shaft molten hot and stonily hard as it ground against her ass and slit. He didn’t waste time with it. He merely lined himself up to prod against her sex and push his large organ into her as quickly as would be allowed by the circumstances, as if seeking shelter from the cold inside her depths.
There was a reservoir within her, easing his passage as he pressed further up her length, a gasp escaping into his mouth at the shock of the thick feeling. He impaled her so deeply, her ass pressed against him, seeking the warmth. Seeking something else that she didn’t entirely know how to voice.
Life was different for one like her; this was as consensual as sex got, she told herself.
Ara’bor pushed himself into her fully, with a low, deep groan of satisfaction. It went much easier than the last time, thanks to her more amenable physical state, and his lack of hard, rushed force. Driving himself inside her, he enjoyed the warmth of their met flesh, her ass against his groin and upper thighs, most of what little they dared expose of themselves in the cold night held together firmly.
The first thrust was more of a grinding shift, their two bodies not wanting to separate. So he rocked himself against her, his hands and arms clutching her close in what might easily be mistaken for an impassioned embrace of two mad lovers.
She was so slight against him, her body so soft and warm under her winter gear, but little goose bumps sprung up along the slight bit of her flesh along her ass that went unprotected.
Such a large, towering man, he throbbed inside her thickly, his whole girth lodged deep within her cunny as they writhed. It was almost disturbing to her that nights ago an incident so similar, yet so different had occurred between them.
She panted into his mouth and then pulled away, parting for the first time since he gave her their first kiss, pressing her body back against him roughly. He opened his eyes to slight cracks, watching her face over her shoulder as he continued the movements.
Unhampered by their making out, he gave low little grunts and groans into the air, the sounds as deep and masculine as the man himself. His arms tightened about her, as if trying to protect her from the elements.
Her lips quieted his once more, her heart pounding with the fright of being caught. Her tongue delved into his mouth, that firm little muscle giving him a silencing lick, her eyes closing again as she felt him pull her so close, her body only too willing for the warmth.
There wasn’t a great rush on his part this time. Though neither wanted to linger in the cold, circumstances provided little other opportunity. As the pressure of the moment mounted, Ara’bor rocked against wildly, sensations rising as he tugged himself back a little, grinding becoming more like thrusting. With his one hand in under her top again, he squeezed a breast and growled low in pleasure, the thrusts becoming hard as their bodies audibly slapped together.
The sound rankled her, but she didn’t protest or plead, her tongue working harder to keep his growls softer. She was paranoid. She knew if they found her like this, they’d want their turn too, and though she appreciated the man’s ability to keep her safe, he wouldn’t always be there. He couldn’t always be counted upon.
It wasn’t long before pleasure built in him, a tingle becoming a fire in his loins, his lips breaking from hers as he breathed deeply. The bite of the cold was long lost on him as he felt his shaft tense with impending release, and he thrust himself into her harder, tighter, his breath a hot steam that carried away from him on the air until at last he was jabbing wildly, spasming inside her with his release.
She slumped as his back arched, her head dropping between her shoulders as she panted in and out, her hair draping over her face as the hood nestled at the base of her neck. She held her breath, her eyes shut tight.
She knew all too well what she risked every time one of them spent his seed within her, but there were so few alternatives. So few options.
Ara’bor breathed deep and heavily, taking a moment to climb down from the high of his release, but he never pushed her away or discarded her. His arms still were around her, and he kissed her neck once, squeezing her in his grasp before he unknit one arm from around her to squeeze between them and tuck himself back away. It was a bit awkward, but each moment spent tucked closer together spared more heat.
She inhaled, noticeably, at his parting kiss, swallowing the rise of emotions that threatened her as she let him pull away, her own covered hand tugging up her boxers and trousers as he handled himself. With the sudden absence of his warmth, she shivered.
