The Savage King Pt. 01

THE SAVAGE KING - In which a royal princess is stolen from her castle to be used by the beast king at his whim.

I couldn't stand to be between his legs for a moment longer.

The foul savage would not take me. Not without a fight.

The ground raced beneath us as the horse whipped through the night like a demon's beast racing back to its master.

The animal might be beautiful in its graceful speed if not for the symbols painted on either side of its flanks. The white circle intersected with a red cross had been shooting fear down women's spines for years. When a savage took a woman, he never released her.

The brute who took her kept his massive arm wrapped so tightly about my waist I could scant draw a breath. Each time I fought against his hold he only pulled his arm tighter until my ribs felt close to cracking.

So, I counted the seconds for the right moment.

The dark night encased us as he slipped quickly across the country side. The silvery crescent of the moon cast light across the land on this bleak night. A night filled with murder and the haunting screams of the innocent.

The savage beast led his horse over fallen logs, down steep rocky slopes that I never could have traversed on my own steed but he managed it with impressive agility.

I had to choose my timing carefully to make my escape. We were getting close to the Argyllean Sea. My father's docks were there and sitting in the lapping waves were many boats... boats I could sail. My father, King Dion, was a great sailor and had taught me the lay of the sea when I was a young girl. It looked like tonight I would be making an impromptu excursion on the deadly waters.

We ducked low over the horse's galloping form; its fuzzy mane tickling my nose as we raced along low hanging branches.

My heart started racing until the only sounds I heard were its mighty drumming and the hooves pounding into the ground at a steady clap.

We rose once again as we passed through the trees. That's when I struck out.

I reached behind me to the hard male beast stealing me away and quickly snatched the dagger at his hip. He hadn't expected that. The horse veered jarringly as he lost control for a moment.

Good, I needed all the surprises I could get if this was to work.

I swiftly pointed the blade back and stabbed. He grunted. The horse's step faltered and his grip loosened on the reins. With a hard whipping motion I shot my head back. Pain exploded at the back of my skull where it slammed into his face. He let loose another grunt.

I didn't waste another second before I leaped off the horse.

I hit the ground in a violent tuffle. My teeth clanked together and bones popped in my arms as I tried to catch my fall. I heard the horse slowing down and that frightened me enough to get me back on my feet and running for the sea.

I ran as fast as my legs could take me, my long skirt whipping against my legs and the heavy material slowing me down. How I wish I had my swordplay bodysuit right now. The only time I eschewed them was for swordplay where I got to wear a special made bodysuit. Having pants instead of a dress could make the difference in life or death.

My bonnet had long flown off in the wind but now I could feel my braid coming loose as well until my hair gusted strongly in the wind. I raced through the sharp bitter gusts ducking and twisting around tree trunks as I raced for the docks. I could hear the lapping sound of water in the distance. I could do this. I could make it.

Then another sound penetrated my ears. Or rather... the lack of it.

I could no longer hear the sound of his horse. Hope struck. Had I killed him? Oh merciful gods, please let me have killed him.

I to catch my breath and spun around to see how far away I was. However, what I saw sent my gaze frantically scouring the forest. Fear clutched my throat until I was gasped.

His horse was still in the clearing but he wasn't. Oh gods where was he?

He didn't make a sound and yet I sensed him. I froze as the trees stirred gently above me as if the wind blew it. But I knew it hadn't because even the wind had frozen in fear along with me. And then I felt him at my back as he dropped down to the earth without making a sound.

"You shouldn't have run from me, freeja."

I quivered at the sound of his deep rumbling voice. The voice of a beast. Then, shaking like a leaf, I forced myself to turn around.

I met his darkly painted face without flinching. The face of a murderer.

Black paint covered him from his broad forehead to the band of his strange attire. It looked like the bottom of a woman's dress but it stopped at the middle of his thighs. Thighs that were powerful and steely with strength.

Red paint covered the savage's eyes in a mask showing him for the demon he was.

"I like your eyes on me... Dafne." His voice lowered as he spoke my name. He spoke it as if...as if he liked it.

I didn't like that and I didn't like his game.

"Do not toy with me," I said, hiding the quiver in my voice by fisting my hands in my skirts.

Both of his dark eyebrows rose and then he walked into me, backing me up. He didn't stop until my back pressed into a the stiff unyielding strength of a massive sequoia tree. I tried to sidle away but his hands wrapped around my throat, tilting my head up to his.

Fear clutched me by the throat becoming a physical pain in my chest.

All the thoughts of what he could do... would do flooded my brain in panic. He could lift my dress and rape me right here. He could beat me or drown my in the sea. Those options would be much preferred. He could squeeze the life out of me using only his strong hands. It would be nothing to him. So easy.

"My freeja thinks to order me. I like your spirit," he said in that strange way he spoke.

When he spoke he enunciated each word as if savoring it. His accent was heavy as he used my people's language, Torga, and I wondered what his language would sound like—guttural and harsh?

His thumbs stroked the path of my throat. Long fingers curled around the back of my neck. He was so big that he could strangle me one-handed. I had no doubt of it.

"What do you want from me?" I glared all of my hatred at him.

It didn't fathom him in the least. This was a man used to being hated. Surely he loved it by now, or at the very least was indifferent to it. If only I could get a hold of his sword then I could really fight. Very few men could best me when it came down to sword play.

His deep-set eyes were a surprisingly bright blue against the red paint outlining them. They may be nice if they were on anyone else's face. The savage king looked every bit the beast. A beard grew along his face in a wild fashion. The men of my country never wore such barbaric tidings, and his hair... Covered in black, red, and green paint was the worst of it all. His hair was a mess of shaggy locks, some braided and others not. Those that were braided were held tight at the ends by gold or silver colored bands. Surprisingly, he didn't really stink. He looked as if he'd dunked himself in a pile of foul manure and yet he smelled of sweat, blood, and horse. I'd smelled worse before.

His eyes fell to my mouth. "You speak of wants. I like this. Now I will tell you what I want."

I couldn't keep from curling my lips in distaste. This only made a wicked grin curl over his black lips.

He leaned into me taking up all the air from my lungs and making my body feel too warm. I started to sweat and could do nothing to wipe it away. I ducked my head to the side as his lips neared. Undeterred, the brute pressed his lips to my ear. Then he grabbed my waist and pressed himself into me. There was no mistaking the savage's arousal.

I felt a gag curl up my throat.

His voice lowered, deepened into a growl at my ear.

"What I want, Princess Dafne, is to lift your skirts right here and feel your wet cunt squeezing my cock as I take you."

Holy father of the gods. I froze utterly still at his words. Foolishly, a pulse of heat flared between my legs in the very part he wanted to plunder. No one had ever spoken to me thus. Ever. It was almost... thrilling. Under different circumstances I might have pushed my chest into the man who said such words to me just to see what he'd do. But this wasn't any man. This was the King of Kargol, a ruthless warrior. That thought chilled my heated blood.

But then the foul man pressed his lips to my neck. He was so warm where my skin was cold and I shivered as goose bumps beaded across my neck and down my arms. I felt his lips curl into a smile against my skin.

"My Dafne is pleased with this."

"Never in your dreams," I spit out, venom lacing my words.

That smile grew and his hips pressed deeper into mine. The man had to be the size of a horse. Or perhaps he shoved cloth down his drawers to enlarge the appearance, as some men did, for surely he couldn't be that large. He rubbed his hips into me in a thrusting motion and I tried to keep still as if I might eventually turn invisible and all of this awfulness would go away.

"I have not dreamt of you yet, freeja Dafne, but if I do I know what I want to dream of." His hands reached for the bottom of my skirt and started lifting it in a great heaves.

I struck out in panic. I fought, screaming in his face, and pushing against his hands. I drew blood on his wrists and his eyes only laughed at me. He was too strong. And he won.

With one hand he grabbed both of my wrists and slammed them into the tree above my head. His other hand touched the outside of my thigh.

"Don't you dare touch me! I will kill you!"

If anything, his blue eyes turned darker, lower as if that aroused the beast more.

With a growl he dipped his head and ran his tongue up the side of her neck. "Your spirit... I want it. Never thought the Trinadan princess could breathe such fire upon me.I chose well."

I panted and felt a wave of fear lick at me as his hand fully cupped my bottom. Fear from the unknown and fear at the anticipation that throbbed my pulse with excitement.

His touch was not gentle. He squeezed me hard as if learning the feel of my flesh. No man had ever touched me so. Any man who did would quickly find his head on a platter and a guillotine falling over his neck shortly thereafter.

Never should it have been like this. I turned my face once more and ground my jaw. Humiliation colored my face burning red. Shame at my own body's betrayal.

"Get on with it," I demanded.

Be done with it, so that when your guard drops, I will plunge the dagger into your heart until the organ stops beating evermore.

His lips lingered against my neck. Then his hand slid inside my satin under wear and cupped me bare skin to bare skin. My utter humiliation and arousal was nearly complete. My wetness coated his hand. No denying that he could feel the creamy heat.

"Get on with what precisely, Princess Dafne of Trinada? Do you wish for my cock to fill you?" His voice deepened to a raspy edge. "Because it feels like you do."

Again, a pulse beat between my legs for a moment before vanishing. I hissed in his painted face. "Never! I'd soon let a goat mount me."

His face closed down in anger.

Then, moments later, he burst out laughing and I fought his hold once again. Yet, with his one arm he easily kept me pinned to the tree. Even using the strength of both of my arms, and I was no idle princess who only drank tea and danced at parties, I had strong sturdy arms from sword play, and yet he didn't budge at all. The bloody brute acted as if I wasn't fighting against him at all.

His eyes were way too warm, way too accepting as they looked at me. "Things are going to be good between us, freja. You please me." He slapped my tush making an awful sound that made me gasp at the indignity of it. "But first you're going to do something about this," he said in that deep, strange voice. He thrust his hips into my belly.

"If you wish to use me for sport, then get on with it. The sooner you do, the sooner you die."

I meant it. Every single word of it. All I needed was a small opening. I'd bite his nose off, scratch his eyes out or anything else if I had to.

Anger slashed his barbaric features. He shoved his face into mine. "You have no idea just how lucky you are that I'm won't simply take what is mine to take. None of my people would object to it. You are mine by right now, I've claimed you and killed your people. Anything of yours I want to take is fair. Now," he took his hand off my tush and I fought once more.

Using one hand he kept my arm pressed into the tree but with his other he grabbed my hand and drew it down his body. I knew where this was leading and panic erupted. I fought as hard as ever against him, my chest heaving and hips jerking to throw him off.

It did nothing.

If anything he licked his lips as if my actions made him eager. And then he had my hand near his strange pants, my wrist squeezed so tightly that I was sure to bruise if I lived through the night. He shoved his face back into mine.

"Do anything stupid and I'll make every single one of your fears happen this night."

Real terror raced down my spine like ice water. No matter how disgusted I was, no matter how much my pride resisted I let him wrap my hand around his stiff manhood. It was the first time I'd ever felt that part of a man.

"I hate you," I seethed.

His forehead fell against my neck as his hips jerked in my grip, shoving his shaft through my grasp. He kept his hand wrapped around mine as his breathing deepened. "Be a good princess to me and I'll be good to you."

The savage was insane. What could he possible give me that could be good? If food or shelter counted on his list then he really was mad. I was more than capable of providing that for myself. I didn't need him.

"Now stroke me." With my hand wrapped in his he dragged my palm up and down his shaft. He was hot in my palm and hard like stone, yet his skin was as soft as my satin under wear. It was a strange contrast. Surely the beast should have barbs protruding from his manhood. He must be a demon after all. He squeezed my wrist as I neared the tip of him. His eyes caught mine and they were deadly serious.

"Do not hurt me, princess. I don't want to have to hurt you."

That unbelievable... horses ass! He didn't want to hurt me? I could have screamed until his ears bled. The man had stolen me from my people, killed my guards, and forced me into this situation, yet he claimed not to want to hurt me. I swore then that the minute I had the chance I'd stick him through with a sword like the pig he was.

Suddenly his hand released my wrist, then he shoved up my shirts to bear my breasts. My eyes flared at intense sensations. While many boys had tried to touch me there, I'd always managed to save myself that discomfort. Now, however, I had no choice. His hand molded my flesh like he possessed it. As if he owned me.

"Stroke my cock, Dafne," he ordered in that guttural voice.

I briefly wonder if I could hurt him long enough to get away. But, I didn't see any real options that might work. He was far too strong and quick for me. I needed to wait until I could get a sword with my wrists freed. He'd never be able to match me then. I could even beat my father in swordplay and he was the finest swordsman in the country.

With that in mind, I started moving my wrist. The sound of his breaths deepened into a heavy, hypnotic rhythm, his mighty chest expanding with the effort.

"Mea shalone freeja. Tu Gottes ma swure ma nent voll mea kok uni-mut."

"What on earth does that mean?"

And why did he make my breath catch?

He didn't answer but his hand did plump my breast with fervor. My stupid breathing turned funny from his heavy pawing. It felt good and wrong and exciting and bad, very bad all at the same time. He didn't touch me gently but not too firmly to hurt either. His rough palms and fingertips caressed me until my nipples puckered. Then, he did wicked, awful things to them that left me gasping and my hand moving fast over his shaft.

His gruff groans filled the night air. I closed my eyes and tried to turn myself away from this all. I tried to take myself to another place and time—anywhere but here.

But then he tugged on my nipple with his lips sending warmth and heat between my legs. His hand curled hard around my breast hard, he thrust into my palm as he crushed his black-painted lips across mine.

I clamped my lips shut but it didn't matter. He grunted, thrust forward one final time. Hot, wet liquid drenched my hand with his release. Slowly, he pulled back and pressed a gentle kiss against my tightly pursed lips. He smiled at me, a wicked, awful smile that I made me want to punch off his face.

He stepped back from me, eyes bright and mocking. "You did well for your first time, princess. You will do much better in the future as you grow accustomed to my touch."

I had had quite enough of this demon's arrogant confidence. I snapped and swung my arm, palm open, hand cocked and aiming for his cheek. So fast that I didn't even see him move, he caught my wrist and looked amused at my attempt to hurt him.

"Mea freeja, I don't think I want my seed on my face. Now on yours..." His smile said he'd enjoy that greatly.

He grabbed bunches of my skirt and made me clean his seed off my hand using my dress. Next thing he picked me up in his arms and then we were both settled over his horse once again.

He made a clicking sound and the horse took off. "Reach for one of my blades again and the punishment will be far worse than what I just did," he said. He said it so casually as if he kidnapped and made princesses stroke his...manhood all the time.

The nerve of the beast.

"So that's what that was about? A punishment for stabbing you?" Now that I thought about it I hadn't seen any blood coating his darkly painted chest.

His arm banded tightly around my waist to once again secure me against him. "Ye barely stuck it in me."

My face burned with anger. Between clenched teeth I managed, "Then why did you make me..."

A deep rumble of laughter shook her. "Because a woman's hand on my cock is always a good thing. I would have preferred your cunt but we'll save that for next time." He leaned in close. I could feel his warm breath on my ear. "Because you're mine now. What say you to that, princess?"

"I say you have never been more wrong in your life."

He laughed again, then his grip tightened around my waist, and we sped out into the dark night.

GLOSSARY

Freeja - woman or lass

Gottes - God

Shalone - beautiful

Tu - to

Squre - swear

Nent - want to

Voll - fill

Kok - cock

Mut - you

Mea - my

Ma - I