Breaking the Barbarian Ch. 03

A muffled moan rose and I was certain that the Mother Superior had moved to kiss and lick between Catriona's legs. A little giggle and a trembling moan from Catriona confirmed that suspicion.

"You spoil me, your holiness," Catriona whispered in between little moans and gasps. "You are blessed with the skills of Saint Morwenna herself."

Catriona's soft hand reached up, grabbing my forearm to brace herself as she writhed beneath her mistress' attention. My eyes went wide beneath the blindfold, as if somehow the effort would allow just a bit of light to shine through.

Gritting my teeth, I stifled a moan as Catriona's back arched against my chest. Her other hand lashed out, gripping my thigh. Her proximity to my cock caused me to let out another needy moan; I nearly begged her to take hold of me, to stroke me while Isidora tended to her folds.

That would have been an open admission of weakness.

"By the Blessed Chain," Catriona wailed, her grip on my arm and leg tightening. "Yes, your holiness. The divine radiance shines through, her blessing is-"

The prayer went silent. A frenzied gasp filled my ears, followed by a short, high-pitched moan. Her head thrashed against my chest, her nails dug into my skin, and the tension exploded within her. The nun's trembling cry filled the bedchamber.

Isidora's chuckles cut through the echoes of Catriona's bliss.

"My my, Sister Catriona. I think that was one of your loudest yet. Is it our guest's presence?"

"A combination of that and your skill, your holiness. Thank you."

"Thank Saint Morwenna, darling."

Both women moaned. No doubt they were sharing a kiss just out of my reach. Without the blindfold I could have witnessed that beautiful sight. Without the bonds I could have taken hold of them both, claimed a kiss from them, pinned one of them to the bed...

"Please," I rasped, my hips bucking off the bed as I felt soft fingers brush over my thigh.

The darkness was more painful than the flogging I'd received...perhaps even as painful as the spear I'd taken to the back a few days before. At least when I'd been bound earlier, I had been able to gaze down into Catriona's hungry eyes.

The denial of my sight was a cruelty beyond measure.

"Please what?" Isidora asked. "Be specific, Anvarr."

"Anything," I said, sputtering. "Your mouth, your hand, anything. I don't care. This is..." I shuddered, unable to find the words to describe the torture.

"A taste, first," Isidora said, before muttering something I couldn't make out.

A moment later, soft fingers brushed over my lips, dripping with moisture. Eager for even the faintest new sensation, I eagerly licked those fingers clean, groaning at the taste.

"And what do you say in response to such a gift?" Isidora asked.

"Thank you, your holiness."

"What do you think, Sister Catriona?" Isidora asked. "Is that gratitude sufficient? Shall we grant him anything else?"

"I think so," came Catriona's soft reply. I could have wept at the warm kindness in her tone. "Given all that he's done to help us thus far. And he's been so...compliant."

Fingers trailed down my stomach but stopped a few inches short of my aching shaft.

"And I do think it is a shame that Sister Miriam has been the only one to fully claim him thus far."

"Claim him, then," Isidora said, her voice low and hungry. "In Saint Morwenna's name."

"Let me see, please," I hissed through clenched teeth. "Let me watch."

Fingers teased along my cheek, brushing beneath the blindfold but not quite tearing it away. I growled, aching to bear witness to Catriona as she mounted me...

Those fingers fell away. A hand gripped the base of my shaft while another braced upon my chest. Catriona let out a soft murmur.

We both sighed as the tip of my cock brushed over her folds. For several agonizing moments she simply teased me, sliding up and down, allowing the tip to just barely enter her before pulling up again.

"Please," I said between gasps and sobs. "Claim me, Catriona. In..." I winced as her fingers tightened around the base of my shaft. "In Saint Morwenna's name."

"It would be impossible to refuse such a humble and sacred request," Catriona murmured.

Her soft hips sank down upon me, taking me with one smooth, controlled motion. I cried out, my hands shaking against the rope, my toes curling against the sheets.

Catriona let out a soft squeak of surprise as I rocked up against her, the bed shaking and jostling with the force of that thrust.

"Remain still and allow her to work, Anvarr," Isidora purred directly into my ear, which sent shocks up and down my spine. "Though she may still be an amateur with the lash, her hips are the most skilled in the entire convent."

"No, Mother Superior," Catriona said, her voice breathless and strained. "I quite like the feeling of him thrashing beneath me."

She circled and wriggled her hips with each soft word, forcing me to moan out her name. The teasing and denial had been so intense that I was certain I wouldn't last long. Even if she hadn't been so warm, wet, and skilled...no man could have persisted for long inside her after enduring such torment.

Her soft hands gripped my shoulders. Hair tickled my cheek and I felt warm breath upon my lips. Grimacing, I leaned up, trying to claim a kiss.

All I received was a teasing lick to my lower lip, then she pulled back, just out of reach. I whimpered and rocked my hips up against her again.

Catriona replied to my fervent movements with a soft, tender rocking of her hips that sent pulses of bliss through me.

"By the fangs of the gods," I cursed. "Just take off the damned blindfold. Please. I want to gaze into your eyes, Catriona. I want to watch your sacred work."

As I growled and begged, Catriona continued to move, letting out soft whimpers and moans. The pounding of my heart nearly drowned out those gentle, adorable little sounds of bliss.

"But you will have other Rites to endure," Isidora murmured into my ear. "Other occasions to spill yourself inside Sister Catriona." Her tongue flitted against my earlobe. "And if you continue to prove so compliant and dutiful...you may have the chance to spill inside me as well."

"Would you like that, Anvarr?" Catriona said, each word ending in a soft gasp. "Allowing me to use you, again and again? Allowing the Mother Superior to use you as well?"

"Gods, yes. Please. Anything. Whatever you want."

Those wild, wicked thoughts had nearly made me forget all about the blindfold. My mind erupted with thoughts of those two nuns using me again and again...

Riding me, sucking me, sitting on my face...

"Then come for her," Isidora urged, her hand gripping my neck and giving a faint squeeze.

"Come forus," Catriona whimpered. "For Saint Morwenna."

In that moment, I found it impossible not to share in their faith. Though I barely understood the intricacies of their order, I nonetheless glimpsed a fragment of something divine. An ethereal spark that erupted within the darkness of the blindfold. A fire of lust and passion that bound me to those women and to every other Sister of the Blessed Chain.

Perhaps even to the Saint herself.

I cried out. Only after the sound had faded did I realize I'd not cried out Catriona's name or Isidora's.

My frenzied lips had instead given voice to Saint Morwenna's holy name.

Catriona cried out along with me, her nails scraping against my chest. The smooth, tender movements of her hips grew wild and frantic. Bouncing up and down, her wild motions caused the bed to rock and creak. As the first burst of my seed flooded her sex, she cried out the saint's name again.

My climax seemed to spur her on. She rocked and writhed above me, milking me for all I was worth, clenching in time with each twitching pulse of my cock. The grip of her hands upon my chest grew weak.

Slumping forward, she rested her head against my neck, mewling as she continued to rock her hips. The last few twitches of my climax drew forth little giggles from Catriona.

We both fell still, panting and sobbing.

"Saint Morwenna, Queen of Surrender and Queen of Conquest," Isidora said. "We thank you for giving Anvarr the power to yield, and for granting Sister Catriona the power to tame."

Nearly a minute passed before Catriona moved. With a sigh, she slipped my half-hard shaft out of her. Gentle hands brushed over my chest and I felt the bed shift as both women rose.

I heard the rustle of fabric and groaned with the realization that they were getting dressed. Even after all I had endured, they would still deny me the sight of their naked bodies.

When the blindfold was removed from my eyes, both women were clad in their sacred veils and vestments once more, as if nothing at all had happened.

"You are cruel beyond measure."

"Cruelty would be leaving you blindfolded and tied up until dawn," Isidora said. "This was a mercy."

Catriona stepped forward and undid the bonds, finally freeing me. My heart ached with the desire to grab her by the hips and yank her back down to the bed, but my body was far too spent for that. Instead I merely rubbed at my wrists and smiled.

"Thank you," I murmured.

"Thank Saint Morwenna," Catriona said with a soft laugh, glancing over to the stained-glass window, through which gleamed a beam of moonlight.

The two veiled nuns marched out of the room, leaving me in peace.

**

Like ghosts from the deep, my fellow warriors and I emerged from the water. Starlight sparkled across the sea. Torches gleamed upon the decks of the dozen vessels resting at the piers of Surta's Gate.

Beyond the piers loomed the quiet, sprawling seaside town. Slumbering within the town's central tower were more than a hundred of Duke Grozdan's soldiers. If we made a single mistake, those soldiers would rise and rush down to the docks, butchering us before we could enact our plan.

Gripping a knife between my teeth, I grabbed hold of the side of our target vessel. After offering a silent prayer to the hungry gods of my people, I clambered up the side of the galley. Other northern warriors followed. As voices rippled through the night, I paused.

"Gods, the duke's a bloody genius," someone said. "We scoop up most of the grain, leaving enough for the locals to survive and keep harvesting the rest of it. He sells off the grain to Utresk, keeps the coin flowing to hire more mercenaries. On and on it goes. Take and profit, take and profit."

"I don't really care about the details," said another. "All that matters is the coin. And I'd much rather fight half-starved peasants than proper knights. Better pay for less blood."

Footsteps closed in. My arm trembled against its tenuous handhold.

Now was the time. We had no choice.

With a grunt, I climbed the last few feet and vaulted over the side.

Three green-cloaked mercenaries stood guard on the deck. Two were still chatting on the far side of the ship, while another was sharpening his axe mere feet from me. His eyes widened, but I lunged before he could raise a cry.

My water-soaked hand clamped over his mouth just before I plunged the knife into his throat. Warm blood embraced my grasp and I slid the dying man down to the deck.

Soft grunts and thuds filled the night air as my warriors finished off the other two sentries.

Together we dragged the dead over to the far side of the deck, then took off their green cloaks and donned them.

"Bloody brilliant, Anvarr," said Orgumir. The wiry old warrior flashed me a toothless grin as he plucked a sword from a corpse's belt.

"Too soon for praise," grunted Sorunna, the big-boned shieldmaiden. She wiped the blood from her knife and glared out at the other ships.

"You know," one of my warriors muttered, glancing northward across the moonlit sea. "We could just go home. Force the sailors below to set sail...a ship as fine as this would make the journey in a few days."

I affixed him with an icy glare.

"I shall not abandon my oath to the Sisterhood. I swore to see Grozdan dead and so I shall not return to Kovgaard until that oath is fulfilled."

"And we still need to find Hoskuld," Orgumir grumbled.

"Aye. But first we strike this blow against Grozdan. Sweep below," I said, readying my battle-axe. "Quick and clean. Kill Grozdan's men but spare the sailors."

While the Duke's soldiers and mercenaries were fully complicit in his ravaging of Etmorra, those sailors had just been hired by guilds or merchants to collect the cargo. Many of them likely had no idea the goods had been looted from the people of Etmorra.

We swept through the ship, dispatching another of Grozdan's men in the process. Most of the sailors were asleep as we moved through the ship; taking their drunken captain prisoner helped ensure their compliance. Some of the sailors seemed downright bored at the course of events, as if piracy were a matter of routine. Satisfied with our oaths that they would not be harmed, they allowed themselves to be herded into the hold and locked up for the time being.

With that first ship secure, I and a few others disguised as Grozdan's men moved on to the next. Well-placed arrows and savage dagger-thrusts cleared the deck of sentries. Pushing below, we secured the crew and cargo.

Between those two vessels we'd secured an immense amount of grain and dried meat. Enough to feed hundreds of Etmorrans...and Grozdan had just been planning to sell it off to a duchy on the mainland, leaving his subjects to suffer and starve.

"The gods favor us this night," Orgumir said, looking to the closest vessel, its crew blissfully unaware of our silent assault. "Shall we go for a third ship?"

"No. One was risky enough. We'll have taken enough to feed the refugees and Baron Rikard's rebels. And this will sting Grozdan badly enough that he'll make a rash mistake before too long."

Using a torch, I signaled the other captured ship. Within moments, both of the captured vessels had cast off and were drifting southward from the pier. With the crews in captivity, we wouldn't be able to journey for long out on the open sea, but we didn't need to sail that far.

All we had to do was drift out of sight to deliver the cargo to the refugees...and infuriate Grozdan in the process.

Bells and trumpets sounded from the sleepy seaside town. By the time torches flickered within the windows of the town's garrison, it was too late.

Cheers rose from both of the captured ships.

"Damned fine work, Anvarr," Orgumir said as he tossed one of the dead sentries overboard.

"It's only the beginning," I said, scowling. "Not only do we need to deal with Grozdan, there's still the matter of my brother."

"Those nuns promised you they'd find Hoskuld, and they seem honorable enough. Being a nun is all about keeping vows and oaths, yes?"

My scarred hands tensed against the ship's railing as I fantasized about a blood-soaked reunion with my brother.

Only the thought of reuniting with the nuns kept me from scowling for the rest of the journey south.

**