Micky Carre
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Dragon Riders of Etrea 2—Chapter 23
🕑 Added 2024-08-24 01:40:11 +0000 UTCTheir blades met with a loud clang. They stayed there for a moment, blades pressed against each other’s. Henrik glanced and saw that her sword had taken a chip out of the edge of his. She saw it as well, and wore a knowing smile on her beautiful face. She pushed harder against him and Henrik held his place, but was impressed by her strength. She was stronger than most men. Most large men, for that matter.
“So, what kind of test is this?” Henrik asked, stepping back. “Trying to push me to my limits? Seeing how good I am with a sword?”
“Do you think I’m just going to submit to you because you’re a man?” Isobel asked, swinging her sword around in an attack aimed directly for his neck. With every word she seemed to grow angrier, as if some deeply rooted emotions were finally spilling out.
Henrik ducked backward, narrowly missing her blade. “What are you even talking about?”
Isobel pressed forward, lashing out with lightning-quick attacks. Henrik was a highly skilled swordsman, but she had him pressed almost to his limit. The strength that she put behind each swing shocked him.
“I didn’t even get a choice in this,” she said, her voice angry. “I just have to love you or everything dies. What about my life? What about my feelings?”
Henrik deflected another swipe that would have shaved the top of his head off. She was not holding back at all. If he slowed for a second, he would be dead.
The edge of his sword quickly took a beating. Each time he parried one of Isobel’s attacks, her black blade sliced steel off of Henrik’s sword like it was a piece of hard cheese. His time was seriously limited.
Henrik decided to use that to his advantage. Instead of parrying her next attack, he swung his sword against it, letting her blade bite deeply into his. Using that, he twisted his sword, pulling hers from her hands.
Isobel’s eyes widened in shock, but Henrik didn’t get her enough time to react. He dropped the linked swords and rushed toward her, using his size and strength to quickly overpower her. He crushed her to his chest with one burly arm, pinning both of her arms against her sides with his grip. With his other hand he drew his dagger.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she said, her emerald eyes wide with anger. She flexed her arms, nearly pulling them from his grasp, and opened her mouth to call for her dragon. “Caz—”
Henrik cut her off by quickly bending down and kissing her. In one swift move, he ran his dagger up the back of her shirt, slicing it from bottom hem to collar. After that he released her and hurried back a step. Their swords were right next to him, so he sheathed his dagger, then picked up both of the swords. With a twist he pulled them apart, then tossed the black blade to Isobel.
“How dare you!” Isobel said, her eyes wide with rage. She moved in quickly making a strange motion with her off-hand in the process.
Henrik brought his damaged sword up, ready to defend himself. The second he tried to move, he realized his feet were stuck. He risked a downward glance and saw the grass had grown over his boots, holding him in place.
“I submit to no man,” Isobel said, thrusting her sword at Henrik’s midsection.
He parried hard, pushing her blade aside. With a grunt of effort, he tore his feet free.
Isobel moved fast, nearly hitting Henrik. She was angry, and it took all his focus to keep his head firmly attached to his neck. He decided to try a different angle with her.
“I didn’t choose this either, you know,” he said through gritted teeth. “Trust me, I would have chosen someone with a more pleasant personality.”
“There is nothing wrong with my personality!” she shouted as she dropped into a lunge that nearly disemboweled him.
Henrik turned the attack aside, then had to quickly move when she brought her sword up, nearly taking off his manhood.
“What do you want from me, woman?” Henrik asked.
“I just want a choice!” she said, her voice breaking. “I want to choose who I love, not have it forced upon me!” Her eyes shone with unshed tears.
She performed a series of attacks that left Henrik with a bloody line across his ribs and nearly took his eye. Henrik’s sword was in bad shape, and he knew he had to end this soon.
He performed a move he had used many times—a hard parry, then he dropped his sword and rushed in, grabbing her wrists hard and wrenching the sword from her grasp. He usually followed that up with a headbutt to the face, but the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her.
“Like it or not, you’re stuck with me,” he said, pinning her arms against her side again and crushing her against his chest with one arm. “And I will not put up with a woman trying to kill me.” He snatched his dagger out again, then ran it right into the waistband of her pants, slicing them halfway down her thigh in one quick motion. One pull at her pants and they came right off.
“What are you doing?” she shouted, flailing in his grasp. “You fucking oaf, get your hands off me!”
Henrik used his other hand to immobilize her as best as possible—he had to dodge her kicks and headbutts—then ran back to her house with her in his arms. He held her firmly, but gently. Even now, he would not risk hurting her.
“What are you doing? Why are you taking me in here?” she yelled.
“I’m teaching you some manners!” Henrik said, and went straight for the bed. He had to move quickly or she would gut him.
He sat on the side of the bed and laid her across his lap so her bottom was facing up. She reached back and dug at him with her nails, so his left hand went into her hair, wrenching her head back far enough to stop her from fighting. His right hand slapped down on her bare ass with a noise that echoed off the stone walls.
Isobel shrieked in outrage, so Henrik spanked her on the other ass cheek, and not very gently. “I want you to apologize for trying to kill me. I’ve done nothing to deserve that!”
“Never!” she shouted, her voice filled with defiance, daring him to do his worst.
Henrik spanked her again. Of course, the inevitable happened. With the most beautiful ass he had ever seen right there in front of him, he almost immediately got an erection. He held Isobel tightly by the hair, but she didn’t move. He knew she could feel it though.
He brought his hand down again, alternating cheeks so he didn’t hurt her too much. Isobel shouted her defiance, but never told him to stop. He brought his hand down again on that perfect ass, and while Isobel again shouted that she would never submit to him, he noticed something.
She was arching her back, sticking her ass up. She was enjoying it.
Henrik slapped her on the bottom, which was bright red at this point. He left his hand there, squeezing her ass firmly, then let his thick finger trace down her round cheek, to her upper thigh. He squeezed there as well, and her back arched further. He slid his finger between the tops of her thighs, feeling just how hot and wet she was. Henrik realized then what she needed.
He tightened his grip on her hair and grabbed her ass, squeezing it hard like he owned it. “You’re mine,” he said firmly. “And you are going to treat me right. You are going to respect me and love me.”
“Never,” she said through clenched teeth. “I own myself. I belong to no man!” She sounded ready to chew his arm off.
Henrik slapped her on the bottom again. She closed her eyes as her body shuddered, but Henrik kept his grip on her red hair.
“I think you might need some practice,” Henrik said, leaving his hand on her ass. He gently ran his fingertips up the back of her thigh, then squeezed that amazing ass of hers again. “Tell me you love me.”
“Never!” she shouted, trying to twist in his grip.
Henrik brought his hand down hard twice, once on each cheek. Isobel let out a faint whimper, but her ass was still in the air, and her hips slowly gyrating. Henrik slid his finger down her ass, between those incredible cheeks, and to the soft folds of her pussy. He slid his fingertip in and Isobel exhaled loudly, slowly moving her hips in small circles.
“Tell me you love me,” Henrik said again, raising his hand.
Isobel’s breathing quickened, but she pushed her ass up again. “Never,” she said, but her protests were much weaker.
Henrik spanked her again, twice in quick succession. Isobel cried out but quickly closed her mouth, as if refusing to let him hear her. Her ass was up, and her thighs slightly parted.
Henrik was so hard it was almost painful. Once again he placed his hand on that round bottom of hers, sliding it down until he could slip his fingertip inside her. He pushed his finger in further this time, and her breathing quickened. She was absolutely soaking wet.
Henrik pulled his finger out, then brought it to his mouth and tasted her juices. “You’re delicious,” he said. A shudder ran through Isobel’s body. He didn’t think it was possible for her to stick her ass up any further. “Now, let’s try this again, my dear. You are mine. I want you to tell me you love me.”
“No,” she said, but it was little more than a whisper.
“You know what that means,” Henrik said, placing his hand on her ass. Red handprints on each cheek stood out in stark contrast to her pale skin.
She made a faint whimpering noise and pushed her ass up further, even to the side as if trying to rub it against him. Henrik wanted to just bury his face between those perfect cheeks, but he knew Isobel needed things a certain way.
Henrik brought his hand down on her ass with a loud crack and held it there. Isobel closed her eyes and bit her lip. He spanked her other cheek. She tried to toss her head around, but his grip on her hair held her in place. Again, he spanked her. This time she cried out, but immediately stopped herself.
“Tell me you love me,” Henrik said, spanking her again.
“I—no,” she said in a harsh whisper. She was breathing as if she had just run a mile. Her hands reached back, grabbing onto both sides of her magnificent ass, trying to spread her cheeks.
That would have been enough to drive any man insane, seeing that right in front of him. Henrik had to take a deep breath; he felt drunk, just staring at her perfect body. He brought his hand down on her ass again, and again, and a third time. Isobel cried out, and he spanked her again.
“Henrik!” she shouted.
He slapped her ass again.
“I lo—never!”
He spanked her again, twice on each cheek, hard enough that his palm stung.
“I love you, Henrik!” she shouted. “I love you!”
“Louder!” Henrik ordered, slapping her ass again.
“I love you, Henrik!” she yelled.
He released her hair and lifted her in the air, both to show her his strength and so he could reposition her on his lap. He sat her there, her chest pressed against him, and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly.
She gripped him hard, burying her face in his neck. “I’m yours,” she whispered. Her free hand went between them and began tugging at his pants.
Now was Henrik’s chance. If he didn’t take her right now, all of that would have been for nothing. Still holding her against his chest with one arm, he stood up. She dangled a foot off the ground, and looked up at him with surprise on her face. Henrik used his free hand and pulled at his pants until he could wiggle them down to his ankles. He kicked them across the room.
Even as he sat back down, Isobel spread her legs, almost wrapping them around him. The moment his ass touched the bed, Isobel’s hands were on him, guiding him inside her. She moved up and down a few times, working him all the way in, until her ass was resting on his thighs.
“Oh, Henrik,” she said, her voice somewhere between a moan and a whisper.
Henrik had been with more than his share of women, but never before had he felt one so hot and wet. Isobel held him tightly, her eyes closed and her face against his chest. Her hips began moving, but Henrik quickly took over.
“Please,” Isobel said. All it took was one word; Henrik knew what she meant.
He slid both hands down to her hips and held on tightly, then used his grip to work her up and down his full length. Isobel’s hands never left him, and she kept her body pressed against his. Only her hips moved, rocking up and down and matching Henrik’s rhythm.
Henrik moved one of his hands up her back, tracing his fingers up her spine. He let his fingers comb into her hair, and gripped it tightly next to her scalp. Her bright green eyes opened widely and she looked up at him, as much as his grip would allow her head to move. The look in her eyes said her soul was laid bare before him.
Henrik held her tightly, still thrusting into her, and kissed his way down the side of her face, the side of her neck, and her shoulder. Isobel moaned softly, sounding almost like she was in a trance.
He kept his one hand in her hair, gripping firmly, and moved his other to take hold of her ass. Isobel bit her lip and practically melted in his hands. She moved with him and they went faster and faster, the heat of the moment building like a volcano.
“Oh, gods, Henrik,” Isobel breathed. “I am yours. I’m yours, Henrik.”
Henrik released his grip on her hair and put both hands on her round bottom. Isobel threw her arms around his neck and leaned her face against his shoulder, breathing hard. She kept whispering “I’m yours” over and over in a quiet voice. Henrik just focused on the beauty of her body and keeping his rhythm steady.
As turned on as they were, even Henrik couldn’t last long. He slowed down a bit, hoping to stretch things out, but quickly found himself at the point of no return. His fingers dug into her ass and he practically bounced her on his lap, giving it to her good and hard.
“Henrik, yes!” Isobel shouted, finally moving her face up to kiss him.
Their lips met and immediately parted, their tongues pushing and dancing against each other. Isobel’s hands went to Henrik’s face, holding his jaw, keeping their lips tightly together. She felt the tension in his body; she knew he was ready to cum.
“Fuck me like you own me,” Isobel said, looking in his eyes.
She smiled and kissed him again, smothering Henrik’s grunts and moans as he finally came. He felt her lips curve into a big smile against his as his muscles contracted and he filled her with his seed. Using his grip on her ass, he slammed her down on his lap, giving her his full length good and hard. Isobel took it all with a smile and kept moving her hips, wanting more.
Henrik practically collapsed back on the bed, thoroughly exhausted after that. Isobel leaned forward, following him.
“No, stay inside me,” she said, moving her hips to keep him deep in her, even as he grew soft. She laid her head against his chest and drew small circles in his chest hair with her finger.
“Do whatever you want with me, Henrik. I’m yours,” she said, her tone soft and vulnerable.
Henrik wrapped his arms around her. “I will cherish and protect you,” he said between deep breaths.
“I’m yours,” she whispered again.
