Wick awakened with a start realizing Lora wasn’t wrapped in his arms any longer. A quick look at the camp told him everything was where he’d left it, and his long knife was still under the pallet. Just as he was about to shout her name, she came padding from the bushes, barefoot and naked.
“Where’d you go?” he demanded.
“To the bushes and to the creek,” she told him. “I brought you some cool, fresh water.” She held out the hollowed out drinking gourd filled with fresh water.”
“Thanks,” he said and sat up and took it from her. He drank it all then got up and went to find his own bush.
When he came back, she could see he was planning to fuck her again. He didn’t say anything, but there was the look in his eyes and the fully erect cock that gave it away. The sight had her pussy wet and pulsing inside.
He stopped at the edge of the pallet and stood looking down at her. “You know what I want,” he stated. But she wasn’t exactly sure if he wanted her mouth or her pussy.
“What do you want me to do?” she asked.
“Get on your hands and knees,” he instructed. Lora did and waited as he knelt on the pallet behind her. Then she was pretty sure she knew what he had in mind.
He spread her legs further apart and probed her pussy with his fingers. Her slit was wet, and she contracted as his fingers slid up to her clit. She moaned as he rubbed it and lightly squeezed it between his fingers. A minute or so of that and she was nearly dripping. He stopped and slid his fingers inside her stretching her opening. Then, his cock was thrust inside her to the hilt.
The pleasure she felt was delightfully excruciating, and she let out a long, Ooooh as he filled her. She lowered the front of her body, so she was balancing on her forearms.
“You like that, huh?” he asked mockingly.
“Oh, yes!” she said breathlessly.
“Good, because I like it, too.” He punctuated his words by pulling partly out of her and thrusting back in hard.
Lora groaned as he went deeper than she had ever felt before. Only he didn’t stop. He kept thrusting hard into her at a steadily increasing rhythm. Each hard thrust brought a cry of pleasure on the brink of pain so sharply arousing that she didn’t want him to stop. When she felt his fingers rubbing her clit, she assumed he was getting close to finishing. His fingers helped her over the top and made her come at just the right moment to take him with her.
She had never felt anything like it as she sobbed in ecstasy in the throes of their mutual orgasm. As he throbbed inside her, he leaned over her back, fondling her breasts which increased the rhythm of her orgasmic contractions that were so intense as to shake her whole body with each one.
In the back of her mind, Lora thought she must be some kind of whore to enjoy fucking so much. If she were, then she was Wick’s whore because she only wanted to fuck him.
Soon, too soon, he pulled out of her, and she collapsed on the pallet as her limbs felt too weak to hold her up any longer. Wick leaned down over her and kissed her neck.
“Baby, you were great,” he murmured, pushing back her long hair to kiss her cheeks and the side of her mouth as she lay on her belly.
“So, were you, Wick,” she said with a sigh and smiled. She was going to need that folded blanket on the saddle again that day.
Neither of them felt like eating after that energetic round of sex. They dressed in silence, but Lora noticed that Wick kept looking at her. It made her feel self-conscious. He must think I’m a whore, she thought to herself. Then she decided if she were, he made her.
She had never thought that much about sex with a man until he did those things to her that first night. He knew exactly how to pleasure a woman so she would give him the pleasure he wanted. He said she was his, and he kept what was his, but what did that really mean for her when they got back to his home and his clans?
Whore---slave? It would not have been much different with Vargan, except when he kissed her she felt only revulsion. The thought of him putting his cock in her made her cringe. She was almost sure had the situations been reversed, and she were Vargan’s captive, he would have raped her and beat her into submission if she resisted. He just seemed like that kind of man.
All Wick had to do was give her one of his wicked smirks, and her body reacted and made her yearn for him to fuck her. The bastard knew it, too. The attraction between them was powerful. It had stopped him from killing her when he was bent on revenge. Or was his revenge deflowering and fucking Vargan Rode’s betrothed?
Lora frowned to herself. Wick could tell himself that, but that wasn’t what drove him to pleasure her the way he did. He did that for himself because the more heightened her arousal, the more pleasure she gave him.
She alternately thought that Wick might be using her as bait for Vargan. Then he and Wick would try to kill each other if Vargan came for him. It was senseless. Yet neither side could let it go and put a stop to the endless revenge killing cycle.
Lora didn’t blame Wick for wanting revenge. She knew Vargan hadn’t killed Camron McKell in a fair fight. He had murdered him in a blatant ambush because he was a McKell, youngest son of the mountain clans’ chief Gregor McKell. An arrow from a crossbow fired in battle had killed Vargan’s brother, but he had no one person he could blame for that, except maybe himself. He had taken Zager Rode on a raid of a mountain clans cattle camp.
The mountain clans were defending themselves. None of Vargan’s people would have died had he not gone looking for a fight. If it were up to the women, this nonsense would have ended the year it started. But the men took away most of their rights to have a say under the auspices of protecting them.
By the time the colonists had landed two hundred years ago, both the mountain landers and the lake plain landers had a shortage of women to men with males being about sixty percent of the population. That majority was able to pass laws designed to protect women as the men saw fit, reducing their say in their governments and lawmaking until their rights were mostly abolished, reducing them to chattel who were bought and sold for favors in business and politics.
After two hundred years, the balance had returned, but women’s right to equality under clan law never was. Women’s rights on Oltarin were hardly better than slaves. As Lora thought about it, she pondered that her own attraction to Wick was making her his sex slave. Even then, she wasn’t so sure it was a bad thing.