Song of Desire

  Song of Desire

  A Different Spin

  By

  Marilyn Lee

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Song of Desire By Marilyn Lee

  Red Rose™ Publishing

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  Copyright© 2010 Marilyn Lee

  ISBN: 978-1-60435-687-8

  Cover Artist: Shirley Burnett

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  Song of Desire

  By

  Marilyn Lee

  Prologue

  Soft moans, lusty gasps, and cries of encouragement roused him from a deep, dreamless sleep. He came awake to find himself lying on his back under the evening desert sun with his hands and ankles pulled apart, and bound to stakes driven into the desert sands.

  Straddling his naked body, a tiny, nude blond with small breasts, thrust herself up and down the length of his cock, sobbing with pain each time she sat on him, driving his length deep into her tight, clinging channel.

  “Oh!” The blonde moaned. “It hurts. It hurts.” Even as she spoke, she lifted her slender hips until only the head of his cock remained within her body.

  Several voices answered her.

  “Thrust down harder…”

  “Force his entire cock into you!”

  “Oh. You’re bleeding! Keep going!”

  He turned his head and saw several naked women gathered around them in the desert, fingering themselves and calling out encouragement.

  One woman in particular, a tall blonde with dark eyes kept her gaze centered on his cock, as she thrust her fingers between her legs. “Plunge down,” she ordered, her voice low and breathless. “Take him inside you…all of him. Ride him. Plunge all the way down...force his weapon up into your body. Yes...and again!”

  He turned his head and looked down his body. He watched his long, thick, cock disappear into the tiny blonde’s body as she lowered her hips until she sat on him again.

  “Oooh!” She sobbed and shuddered. “It hurts…so much.” Making soft sounds she lifted her head and began slamming herself down onto him, forcing his entire length deep into her tight body with each lunge.

  He lay under her, securely bound, feeling nothing as she rutted herself on his cock. How had he come to be here? Where was here? And more importantly, who was he?

  He had no memory of anything before the cries of the women gathered around woke him. Although uncertain who he was, he suspected that he did not belong in this desert. Nor should these women be using him for their pleasure.

  He tested the strength of his bounds and found them as unyielding as the pussy of the woman now riding him so gleefully. Her body tightened and convulsed around him, and he felt his cock being drenched with her juices and blood as she came.

  Moaning and gasping, she climbed off his cock and collapsed on the sands. The tall blonde walked over and squatted next to him. She closed her fingers around his cock and brought it to the entrance of her body.

  “No,” he told her. “Release me.”

  “Release you? After I found and nursed you back to health? That is not our way. On Bluhari, the spoils go to the rescuer. You are mine to do with as I will. You look confused—as if you can’t even remember how devotedly I nursed you. My name is Mila. You and your exquisite body now belong to me.”

  With that, she thrust her hips downwards and forced his cock up into her body. She felt hot and tight, her pussy claiming his cock as if she owned it and him.

  There was a moment of certainty when he knew, even bound, he possessed the power to force her off him and to release himself. Yet, he lay bound and captive as she rode him, struggling to enjoy what was happening to him.

  The woman above him moaned. “By the Goddess, you have a mighty weapon, my handsome, rutter. So thick, hot, and hard...so delicious.”

  As she rode him, she caressed his body with eager hands. She laid her large breasts against his chest. He found himself staring up into her lust filled eyes. Her narrow, pink lips were but a breath away. Her gaze dropped down to his mouth. She licked her lips.

  He stiffened. “Don’t attempt to kiss me.”

  She paused. “The urge to taste your lips is unbearable. I must have a kiss or two,” she said.

  “No!” He felt rage knotting in the pit of his stomach. “Don’t kiss me!” He warned, making his voice low and menacing. His body tensed and he glared up at her, willing her not to touch her mouth to his.

  She shivered and pressed her lips against his cheek instead of his mouth.

  Certain she would not attempt to kiss him again, he closed his eyes, and tried to remember who he was as woman after woman mounted and satisfied herself on his cock.

  When the last woman climbed off him, he looked down. His cock was still erect and he still had not experienced a moment of satisfaction. He frowned. Whoever he was, did he have a different preference? The thought of mating with another male did not stir his passions, yet neither had any of these many women. He suspected he would have much to learn before he found a way out of his sexual servitude.

  Chapter One

  There was no denying it: his cock was a thing of beauty. It protruded from his big, well–muscled body like a proud, wild beast…long and thick, with a big dark pink, angry looking head. The sight of it created strange longings in Sierra…longings she had thought beneath her. She glanced up at the face of the man to whom this work of sensual beauty belonged. As was the custom, he wore a slave’s mask, which covered everything except his dark green eyes. As befitted a rutting slave, he was naked, his big, hard, muscular body exposed so all in the market might see what a fine and impressive cock he possessed.

  He was as tall and well–muscled as was her best friend Hawk. Sierra doubted Hawk was as well–endowed.

  Caronae, her servant and friend, looked at her, arching a brow. “He is an impressive specimen. Yes?”

  Sierra turned her gaze to the masked man beside the first rutter. The second male was tall and slender with pale, blond hair, and a much smaller, almost friendly looking cock.

  Although intrigued by the bigger man standing so defiantly in front of them, Sierra shook her head. The thought of that long, thick monster forcing its way into her virgin body night after night, did not bear contemplating. “I feel very little sexual desire.”

  “Yes and that is why we are here. Had you done your duty and taken lovers as custom dictated when you reached your majority five years earlier, we would not need to be here,” Caronae reminded her.

  Sierra cast her gaze skyward. Why did those closest to her refuse to un
derstand her music was the one and only driving passion in her life? Why had the Goddess forsaken her by allowing her to be the eldest daughter of the ruling matriarch? Although she respected her mother and loved her people, she found the obligations her position entailed distasteful.

  “Nevertheless, I will not require a rutter with a sword that size to break me. He looks angry and insolent, and his rutting would interfere with my music. If I must, I will take the pale one with the slender dick.”

  “Are you sure, Lady Sierra?” Mila cupped the huge organ in her tiny hand, stroking it almost lovingly. “He is capable of dispensing considerable pleasure with this beauty.”

  Watching Mila, Sierra felt a tingle between her legs. She moistened her lips, trying to dismiss a sudden mental picture of herself lying on her back with her legs spread wide while this tall, majestic rutter kneeled between her legs, ready to stab his cock deep into her body.

  Realizing Mila still spoke she gave a small shake of her head and turned her attention back to the woman. “Excuse me?”

  “This is Thorn. As you can see, he has an immense sexual organ. He can break even the most untried virgins and turn them into seasoned bond mates in a matter of weeks…some time days, greatly increasing their worth.

  “He has broken in all three of my daughters in a three week period.” She smiled. “All three are now suitably mated.”

  She paused, a faint flush covering her fair cheeks and Sierra suspected Thorn had also broken in his mistress.

  “Look closely at his organ. Or, if I may be frank, his cock. It is not only long and thick, but it remains hard for many hours. And should the need arise, he produces enough seed to stimulate even the most unfertile pussy.”

  Sierra glanced at the rutter’s balls. They were big and appeared to be heavy with seed…surely more than her pussy could contain. It would seep out of her body and trickle down her leg in an obscene manner. The thought of his white seed oozing down one of her inner, dark thighs sent a strange tingle through her.

  Had her mother been correct in assuring her that the right male would stir her sensual desires? No. She desired only her music. Dragging her gaze away from the rutter’s cock, she turned her attention back to the fair, slender blond beside him. “I’ll have that one.”

  “Why?” Caronae demanded.

  “This one won’t interfere with my music.”

  Caronae’s dark eyes narrowed and her nostrils flared slightly. “The time when you could afford to devote yourself solely to your music has passed, Sierra. You have a duty to our people!” Caronae spoke sharply, and turned and nodded at Mila. “We’ll take the big, handsome one with the big dick,” she said.

  Sierra sucked in an angry breath. “Caronae! I insist you follow my orders! I will not have that big brute rutting into my body night after night! Mila, I will take the pale one.”

  Caronae swung around to stare at her. “I’m your loyal servant, but don’t make the mistake of challenging my authority in this matter, Sierra. I have to deliver you to Drakon a seasoned, experienced bond mate. You have behaved so irresponsibly for so long you will now require intensive and frequent rutting to prepare you for bonding. That slender dick will not do the job.”

  “Even as the slender one was rutting into you, your mind would be on your music. But when Thorn is inside you, you will think only of his large, powerful weapon and what it is doing to your body. There is too much at stake to allow you to choose unwisely.”

  “Caronae—”

  “Don’t interfere again,” Caronae warned and turned to Mila. “We’ll take the one with the huge dick.”

  The rutter turned his head and looked at Sierra, his dark green gaze narrowed. She realized he didn’t enjoy his station. The sudden conviction that he didn’t want to rut into her annoyed her. How dare he not acknowledge the honor Caronae was about to bestow on him?

  “He is one of those rutters who will fight,” she told Caronae.

  Her gaze on his tool, Caronae nodded. “All the better. If he doesn’t cooperate, we will enjoy breaking him and when we have, he will live for the time when he might spend just a moment rutting into you. We will take his dick and make it yours…whether he enjoys it or not is of little consequence.”

  Caronae’s lack of concern for the rutter’s feelings triggered a sense of rebellion in Sierra. No one cared what the rutter wanted or needed, just as no one cared that she had no wish to do her “duty” to her people at the expense of her own happiness.

  She had not asked to be born into the ruling family of Bluhari anymore than this slave…this rutter had asked for his lot in life. Perhaps they could reach a deal both found agreeable. She had it within her power to provide a measure of protection for him. In return, he could pretend to break her in. If he upheld his end of the bargain, she would do her best to free him when she became Drakon’s bond mate.

  Mindful of the protocol the present situation required, Sierra rose from her seat and walked over to the rutter. “I am Sierra Leoned, your mistress.” Looking up into his dark green eyes she reached out and grasped his cock. She sucked in a breath as her fingers closed around his thick, hard, warm flesh. A jolt shot up her arm and danced through her body. Moisture pooled between her legs. She looked down. The contrast of his pale flesh encased in her ebony fingers made the muscles in her stomach clench. She had to swallow several times before she found her voice. “From this moment on, you and your weapon belong to me, rutter.”

  “I belong to no one. Take your hand off me.”

  His deep, commanding voice sent a new tingle through her, touching something buried deep inside. She released his cock and stepped back. “You have spirit, rutter. It is unfortunate that it must be broken.”

  “Lady Sierra, he is not for sale…just for rent,” Mila said quickly. “He is my livelihood. No doubt you have heard of Thorn, the premiere rutter in all Bluhari. In the last year alone, he has broken in bond mates for nearly every one of high consequence. I’ll rent him to you, but once you are broken, he must be returned. Please don’t attempt to break his spirit. My clients love that he is so surly and uncooperative.”

  Sierra, watching the play of emotions in his eyes, determined that Thorn’s life as a rutter would end with her. No one should be forced to rut if he didn’t wish to. Bluhari society should be too enlightened to allow such barbaric behavior. There were legions of rutters who enjoyed their work. Why force an unwilling male into such a bondage?

  Her gaze shifted to his cock again. That was why. By the goddess he was huge. No male so equipped could expect any other outcome on Bluhari.

  But she had learned to keep her own counsel. She inclined her head. “It will be as you say, Mila.” She turned to look at Caronae. “You’ll handle all the details?”

  “Of course.”

  “One more thing, Lady Sierra,” Mila spoke as Sierra started to turn away.

  “Yes?”

  “Don’t try to kiss him.”

  Sierra’s gaze flew to Thorn’s firm, chiseled mouth. She parted and moistened her own lips. Kissing was not something she enjoyed, but the thought of touching her mouth to his lips intrigued her. “Why not?”

  “Although surly, he is not dangerous...unless one attempts to kiss him. He absolutely refuses to be kissed. I must have your word that you won’t attempt to kiss him.”

  “Kissing him is not necessary,” Caronae said. “We are interested in his weapon, not his lips.”

  Even as Caronae offered the assurances, Sierra locked her gaze on his mouth. Despite Caronae’s words, she knew she was going to have to taste his lips before she freed him.

  “Then rest assured he will thoroughly break and train Lady Sierra. By the time he is returned to me, she will have acquired a rampant hunger for cock that will in turn revive his Lordship Drakon’s lust for pussy. In no time at all, their union will be blessed with royal offspring.”

  A picture of Drakon formed in Sierra’s mind. Tall, blond, blue–eyed, and of slim build, he did nothing to arouse her almost
non–existent sexual passions. Nor did she stir his sexual emotions. The thought of leaving Bluhari to live with Drakon in his palace beyond the desert, sent a chill of fear and loathing through her.

  But as Caronae constantly reminded her, she must do her duty to her people. “I’ll leave the arrangements to you, Caronae. I want to return home to work on my latest composition.”

  Caronae’s eyes narrowed. “Your song can wait. Return home and get ready for your first encounter with Thorn. When we arrive, I will expect to find you in your chambers, naked and ready for deep penile penetration.”

  Sierra tossed her head, sending her long hair whipping around her bare, brown shoulders. No matter what her mother or Caronae said, she would not allow this big, surly brute to push his cock into her. Still, as her Matron charged with preparing her for the bonding that would fortify the fragile peace between Sierra’s people and Drakon’s, Caronae wielded a level of power in the palace that was second only to Sierra’s mother, Her Highness Aquee.

  She inclined her head coolly. “As you wish.” She moved over to her personal transport. The door slid open and she stepped inside, settling back against the dark, lush seat, which quickly contoured to her body.

  She looked out the window and encountered the gaze of the rutter…Thorn. Ignoring his obvious anger, she centered her attention on his weapon. Her heart thumped as she thought of that huge organ forcing its way into her. He would suck and pull at her nipples while he bruised and tore her flesh until she could barely walk. She pressed her knees close together.

  “Take me back to the palace,” she told her driver.

  “Yes, Lady Sierra.”

  As her transport flew a few feet above the desert sands, she pulled down the back of the seat in front of her and used it as a desk. Emptying her mind of everything but her music, she worked on her latest song on her portal communicator.

  She had been working on this particular composition, called Song of Desire, for several months. Although the opening possessed a fire and passion that made her pussy tingle, she couldn’t seem to move beyond the middle to the ending. After several long minutes of staring at the words and music playing on her small screen, she gave up and sat back, frustrated.