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Kargorr

S he had planned to stab him, perhaps in his sleep. Surely she hadn’t thought that would work.

He had fed her. He had cared for her pleasure. He had slept next to her and held her and started to become, much to his chagrin, linked with her. And now, she had betrayed him.

Perhaps this was all a mistake, taking the human as his own. It had been an impulsive decision, and he should have known better than to obey his baser nature when Cedar had first run from him. He should have snapped her neck alongside the old woman’s.

The idea made his skin itch like it was too tight.

Kargorr had been sorely mistaken in thinking he could tame her, that he could make her pliant and loyal. She was like a dog that had grown up feral.

Could the dog still learn manners? Could it ever be depended upon?

Her insubordination grated on the sturdy part of him that led a parog , that guided warriors into battle, that killed those who stood in his way. But another, murkier part of him admired it. She had played the supplicant and started to play it well, all while conspiring behind his back. She wasn’t a slight woman to be easily cowed.

In a way, she reminded him of himself and the sort of things he had been willing to do to win his own parog .

Lord Kargorr was honest when he said he was glad she’d confessed in private. Now he didn’t have to punish her painfully and openly.

Not to say that he wouldn’t punish her. Now that he had decided not to whip her or cut her throat, and instead, keep her—he would have to be careful with his next move. It would determine how she saw him from then on, and whether she would hide secrets from him in the future. He could not have secrets between them, or it could mean far worse than this.

But she must still be taught a lesson, one that she wouldn’t forget easily.

Kargorr slid his fingers along the smooth hilt of the dagger, over the gentle bumps and swells where the carved silver led down the grip to the cross-guard. Cedar’s eyes were huge as she remained in a defensive position a good pace away from him on the bed. He needed to turn this around, to use it as an opportunity to invite her in closer rather than to push her away.

“Come here, little deer,” he commanded, and instinctively, she obeyed. At least her fear would make her deferential until he could earn her loyalty in other ways. As if summoned, his cock twitched against his thigh.

He knew he could make her sing, and that was a good place to start.

When Cedar was close enough, her shoulders still curled up tight around her neck, he ran his finger down the long blade. Her eyes followed as he stopped at the tip... where he carefully poked through his thick skin. It drew blood, and Cedar flinched.

“Sharp,” he said thoughtfully. “Lie down.”

Her chest was heaving as she lay back, trying her hardest to appear calm. Kargorr sat in a relaxed posture next to her, his grip returning to the hilt. He lowered the point to her chest, and her breaths came even faster, that red color blooming across her face. He sliced down, cutting through each of the strings holding her tunic together like they were butter. Cedar gasped as it slid away from her breasts, revealing them to him.

With great care, he drew the tip of the blade up her sternum, making sure to never cut her skin. The sharp, cold point brushed over the surface of her, and she shuddered under it. When it reached the hollow of her throat, Cedar swallowed hard, and her brown eyes sought out his. They were so bright and clear, white with irises the color of earth, and wide with her fear.

He kept the point of the dagger at her throat. “You will never hide something from me again,” he murmured to her. “Am I right?”

“Yes,” Cedar whispered, her throat trembling with each unsteady breath. Kargorr nodded and slid the dagger down her chest, away from her vital veins, down to her belly. She inhaled as he circled the small divot there, leaving a thin red trail on her skin behind it. There, the blade met the laces of her new pants, and he sliced through those laces just as easily. He yanked them down, revealing her round hips and pale thighs, and peeled them off her small feet. He considered in the future he might have to suck on each of those teeny toes, but not right now.

Hilt loosely hanging from his palm, the dagger resumed its path southward from her stomach, which had already started to grow thicker from good food. He was pleased by this development and caressed it with the blade before venturing over the mound at the crux of her legs. She let out a sound then, just a wispy gust of air, and he saw that her hidden lips were shiny under the torchlight.

Good. She liked being at his mercy.

Kargorr flipped the dagger in his hand so now the hilt was pointed toward her. Cedar gasped again as he brought it down to her folds, leafing through the pages of her cunt with it. He rubbed it over her sensitive bud and her hips jerked in response—a lovely little reward.

“Stay still,” he told her, “while you have your punishment.”

The pommel was rounded, making it perfect for easing down into her swollen slit. A mewl fell from Cedar’s lips as he pushed it inside her, turning the handle so she could feel all of the silver against her soft inner layer. He thrust it in deeper, watching her face as she took it, and it reminded him of the face she made when he first entered her. She was so slick now that when he pulled the dagger out again, the handle was coated with her, so he pushed it back in, harder.

Cedar bit her lip, trying to hold in her voice, but Kargorr wanted to hear her. So he withdrew the hilt and then buried it again and again, until she was trying her hardest to keep her body from responding. A small moan managed to escape her, and at the sound of it, his control slipped from his fingers like water.

He pulled the hilt out and tossed the dagger to the floor, nearly tearing his own laces as he pulled off his breeches.

“Get up,” he ground out. “On your knees.”

Cedar hastily obeyed, her eyes dragging over his cock before she kneeled in front of him, dropping her arms to the furs. Seeing her take the dagger had stirred up his need too great, and of its own accord, his thick cockhead found its way to her dripping cunt. There was no choice but to plunge into her, to stake his claim on her again. He submerged himself over and over, remembering the spot that had made her scream just last night, and he worried it with each stroke. Cedar sagged under his relentless pace, so he lifted one hand and whacked her soft, plump ass.

A surprised cry burst out of her, and Kargorr groaned as her tiny channel clenched around him.

“This is what happens to concubines who try to kill their masters,” he told her, thrusting into her again, and then slapping the other cheek. Her cry came out sharper this time, and her cunt squeezed even tighter. He pounded through it, forcing her back open, earning harried cries and moans from her lips. She was wetter than she’d ever been, and he took careful note of it, slowing down his strokes as he wound up to slap her a third time.

When he did, she cried out without reserve, and Kargorr almost couldn’t bear the clench of her around his cock. How one small human felt so pristine, so maddeningly sublime, was a mystery to him. For the first time, he had to steel himself against ending too soon, even as his balls tightened.

He would make her come. He would force it out of her, make her wallow in her bliss until he filled her up. So he hit her once more with the flat of his palm, and this time her arms gave out and she fell into the furs. He nursed the spot she liked so much, and soon she was shaking all over, reeling from each of his thrusts, sobbing out her penance.

When she hit her crest, it tore him down and sucked him in. Kargorr roared as he shoved himself as deep as he could, until his sarga were nearly ready to sink into her, and he pulled back just in time. His seed arced, coating the red cheeks of her ass, her puckered hole, and her dripping cunt. He cursed that he’d wasted it, but he would have another chance.

Cedar fell to the bed, and she would have looked dead if it weren’t for the heavy rising and falling of her back. Her skin looked so tender and red where he’d struck it, he ran his fingers over the surface to see if he’d done any damage. When she flinched, Kargorr withdrew, and sat back on his heels.

It was time to repair what was broken.

He found a square of hide and dunked it into a bucket of cold, fresh water, then brought it back to the bed.

“What are you doing?” she asked as he ran the wet cloth over her angry skin, cleaning off the remnants of his spend. He simply grunted, and so she didn’t ask further questions as he got more water, cleaning her between the legs. Her small slit had retracted, and he marveled that such a tiny thing could take him.

When he was finished, he applied kuja , though she didn’t need it now that her body had adapted to him. But it was care and providing that to her would help immensely in turning this betrayal into a bond of trust.

Cedar let out a relieved sigh. After he’d put the washcloth away, Kargorr slid his arms underneath her. She tensed as he lifted her off the top furs, then pulled them aside and lay her under them, instead. Her eyes were half-lidded but curious as he slid in next to her, then pulled her in tight against him.

“Do not hurt me like this again,” he said, leaning down to smell her hair. She nodded rapidly, and he exhaled a relieved breath.

“I won’t.” Though her voice was quiet, he grunted to let her know he’d heard her.

Usually he lay awake at night, considering what he needed to do the next day, what obstacles his parog might face and formulating plans to overcome them. But now, the moment Cedar’s breathing slowed, Lord Kargorr blew away like snow in the wind.