The Will of the Gods Ch. 04

Gregar smiled when he saw her grinning, eating the food he offered happily. "Good girl," he crooned warmly and planted a gentle, affectionate kiss on her temple. Regina opened her mouth for another, thinking his attentions meant the exercise concluded.

"More?" He asked, his voice teasing.

She nodded.

He tossed a piece of food into his mouth. "I should think you understand the principles of the game by now, wren."

He felt Regina squirm in his lap indignantly. Her hunger had surged, not diminished, at the small morsels of food that he had given her.

"I'll..." She pondered. "Kiss your neck?"

When he did not correct her, she stretched her face upward to gently kiss his neck. It was the same small peck she had given him first and he made a warning growl. Quickly, she pressed her lips tighter to him, and then opened her mouth wider to let her teeth gently graze against the stubble of his neck. When she pulled back, he offered her a piece of food. She ate it and waited for more.

"That was only worth one."

Feeling a challenge, she nuzzled closer to him so that her lips could reach higher. Gently, she placed a kiss on his neck, just a little higher than where she had been before. Again, she let her teeth graze his neck the way his had grazed hers the night before. She kissed him— this time just behind his ear. She felt him tighten his grasp on her waist. Without hesitation, she grabbed his earlobe and sucked it between her lips, letting her tongue roll gently over the edge as she held it between her teeth. Careful not to bite down, she pulled her head back, dragging her teeth along the lobe until she felt him shiver with delight.

Gregar's shaft stiffened. Regina could feel it pressing against the curve of her buttocks. A feeling of satisfaction washed over her as she realized the instant and unbridled arousal did not run only in one direction.

Gregar fed her three more morsels of food, one for each kiss. He held his fingers out so that she could lick the meat's juices from them, and she did so with a surprising zeal. She must be very hungry, he thought. All the same, he rewarded the eagerness of her actions with another piece of meat. He much preferred this enthusiastic attitude to the foot stomping brat she had been moments before.

"Is there more, Master?"

Gregar nodded, "Plenty."

Absent-mindedly, he let his hand fall to her sex and began to toy with her again. He felt her sigh at the touch, and enjoyed the way she relaxed into his arms. Regina could not help herself. Compared to the rest of what had happened the last few days, this felt nice. This was a simple transaction. If she pleased him, she ate. And the hand that played with her aching loins was not unwelcome. She wanted him to play with her, even if in the back of her head she knew that he would not allow her to finish soon. Some small part of her held fast to the hope that he would change his mind.

As she let him stroke her, Regina brushed her lips against his chin. She pressed her forehead against his temple, kissing his rough cheek. Her mouth moved forward, until it lingered just an inch from his lips.

Gregar saw her hesitate—one moment confident, the next moment she began to shrink back as if she feared the sudden boldness.

He grabbed her jaw in his free hand and pulled her to him until his lips touched hers. She only protested for half a second, before he felt her lips yield to his advances. His fingers found her clit as he kissed her and she moaned against him. When her mouth opened, he took full advantage. He caressed her tongue with his, playing over the warmth of her supple mouth as he heard her sigh again in pleasure.

His hand twined in the auburn tendrils of her curling hair. Regina pressed her hand to his cheek as she gave herself entirely over to the passion of his kiss. Between the hand on her yielding bud and the lips pushed tight to her, she felt her body buzz to life. He nibbled gently on her bottom lip, just hard enough to make her yelp with desire. She did nothing to stifle the sounds she made. Vaguely, she was aware of her hips pushing up against his hand and the way that her body moved ever closer to him, as if trying to climb into his skin.

When he pulled away, her lips followed him, trying to continue the rush of the embrace. She felt dizzy and placed her hand on his muscular forearm to steady herself.

Still trying to pull herself together, she felt the warmth of another piece of meat against her lips. Opening her mouth, she took it from him, making sure to wrap her lips entirely, enticingly around his fingertips before she grabbed the meat in her teeth and pulled away to chew.

As her lips trailed over his fingertips, Gregar gave a low, approving groan. For all the satisfaction of gaining such control over the daughter of his enemy, Gregar felt suspiciously as if she had him in the palm of her hand as well. He wondered if it was deliberate, this fawning obedience, but something told him there was little that was contrived in her actions. The thought made him stiffen further.

They continued in this way, his hand playing against her clit, the girl relaxed and writhing, lingering kisses growing more powerful each time their lips touched. Her moans mounted in intensity until he had to be careful to pull his fingers from her from time to time, to ensure she would not push herself over the edge.

When the plate was mostly eaten, Regina pressed her lips to Gregar's ear. "Master?" She whispered in a breathy voice.

"Yes," he responded just as softly.

"You can take me," she murmured. Her voice was throaty, hungry, ready.

Gregar nearly broke. The words sent a thrill up his spine. She was admitting that the thought of him fucking her was something she wanted. Something fluttered at the back of his mind, however. A small burst of annoyance.

"What did you say?"

Too lost in the hope of satisfaction to be wary of his change in tone, Regina repeated herself. "You can take me—you can... have my—me—if you want."

Regina did not realize the danger she was in, the line she was so casually toeing. To her, the Ceremony had happened. She was his slave. She might as well give in to what he said he wanted. Her life would be easier that way.

His fingers continued to stroke within her, just deep enough to make her quiver, just slow enough to stymy her climb to the edge.

"Did you just give me permission to use your body, Regina?"

"Yes, Master. I did." Her voice was bright—wistful and hazy with pleasure.

Gregar's fingers began to move against her again. Despite her fear, her body still responded. She whimpered softly.

"Do you want me to fuck you?"

She paused, her breath tight. That was a different line of thinking than simply allowing it. She was not sure how to answer. His thumb moved to tweak her clit as his fingers continued their strokes.

"Well?" He pressed.

Her body responded instantly, driving her hips into his fingers. His fingers made her ache, driving her mad, but she knew he would not bring her to climax with them. That meant the only way to finish was against his cock. Did she need it so badly that she was willing to admit to wanting him? The pace quickened once more and it felt as if her body lit up, her nerve endings intensifying.

"Yes," she whispered.

"Say it."

"I want you to take me."

"Fuck you," he corrected.

"I want you to fuck me," she repeated through a tortured whimper.

"So which is it? Are you giving me permission or are you asking?" His voice sounded almost amused, but there was something beneath it. A tension buried like a bear trap buried under the camouflage of his mirth. Regina did not catch it. She was on a cloud of impending satisfaction, confident in the knowledge that he had said if he fucked her, he would let her yield.

"Both," she said with a teasing smile. "I want you to fuck me, and I'll let you."

His voice was a dangerous whisper as the trap triggered. "A slave does not give her master permission."

His fingers left her. Regina shook her head desperately, not understanding. "No—I only—I'm sorry."

He pushed her from his lap and locked her hands back in place before she knew what was happening. In another instant, he had locked her right leg to the right bedpost.

"Master, please. I'm sorry."

Her body trembled with frustration and arousal.

"Master, I'm begging. Please," she whined, kicking her feet in an attempt to stop him from locking her up. "Please don't."

He caught her other foot as it flailed and locked it to the bedpost so she was lying splayed before him. When the lock clicked into place, it was as if he suddenly disappeared. She could hear nothing around her but the noises outside. She could see nothing but the darkness of the blindfold. The only thing she could feel was the bed where she trembled.

"Master?" Her voice was a whimper.

No response came.