Breaking the Barbarian Ch. 04

"Inside me, Anvarr."

She did not need to yank on the leash for me to obey that particular command. After a tender brush of my fingers over Catriona's cheek, I moved to settle behind Miriam. Catriona took the opportunity to raise her legs, brushing her toes over the back of my calves.

Taking hold of myself with one hand, I rested the other on the small of Miriam's back.

As I guided my shaft towards her sex, she reached for the leash and gave it a tug, reminding me that she was still very much in control.

I acceded to her demands, sliding deep inside of her with one powerful movement. Miriam arched her back, her short curly hair flailing about.

One of her hands braced against Catriona's shoulder, while the other kept a tight hold on the leash, giving me a fierce tug with each of my deep thrusts.

As I pounded against her, the bed rocked and squeaked. Catriona mewled and whimpered, reduced to a mere witness to our depravity. Her desperate pleas and sobs poured fuel on the fires of my lusts, inspiring me to take Miriam even faster and harder.

Before long I was pounding away against her, giving it to her as fiercely as I'd fucked Isidora back in that sacred cavern.

Despite the ferocity of my thrusts and her rising moans, not once did Miriam's grasp slip from the leash.

"You long for this, don't you?" Miriam murmured in Catriona's ear. "You've used him...and now you want him to use you..."

"Yes," the redhead whimpered, her brown eyes looking over Miriam's shoulder to stare up at me.

Miriam cast a heated glance back at me, her expression poised and controlled despite the wild pounding I was giving her.

"And is that what you want, Anvarr?" she asked, letting out a gentle moan.

"It doesn't matter what we want," I panted back, knowing full well how this game was played. We were her toys...and I had to play my role. "Only what you want matters."

"Good," she replied, licking her lips. "And what I want is to come all over that thick cock of yours...and then we'll see about sating your needs."

Catriona and I both moaned as one at the sound of those heated words. Miriam's free hand slipped between her legs, tending to her folds as my cock plunged deeply into her. As the bed rocked, Catriona's hair flailed, her breasts bouncing, her legs writhing against the bed.

Miriam's moans came in a slow, steady pattern: controlled and precise. Desperate for her to come, I made a daring move and reached around, gripping her pert breast, my thumb rolling over the nipple. Perhaps inspired by my recklessness, Catriona leaned up and suckled on the side of Miriam's neck.

"Good little pets," the domineering nun cooed.

That poise and control shattered a moment later. Her sweaty hand released the leash and she clutched at the sheets. Her hips bucked wildly back against mine, meeting me thrust for thrust, the bed creaking and trembling with the combined force of our movements.

I watched the muscles of her arm strain as she worked between her legs. Her short curls clung to the back of her pale, sweaty neck.

Gods, what a sight...

Her moans pitched higher, then fell silent. A long gasp fled her lips a moment later. Her toned backside trembled, her powerful hips slowed, shifting into a series of desperate little twitches.

"Praise be to Saint Morwenna," she gasped.

Catriona repeated the prayer and gave Miriam's neck a soft kiss. My cock ached within Miriam, but I had enough sense to slow down, eventually coming to a halt against her.

"Good," Miriam purred, then tugged on the leash to signal me to withdraw.

I flinched as I slipped my cock out of her sex. Miriam rolled off of Catriona, her fingers trailing between the redhead's breasts as she rose.

Sweaty and sated, Miriam rose to stand behind me, then leaned up to lick the back of my ear. One hand took hold of my dripping shaft and guided it towards Catriona's sex.

Both of us flinched as Miriam used my cock like a toy, teasing against Catriona's entrance before shifting me higher, grazing over her folds.

"Please," Catriona sputtered. "No more games, Miriam."

"No more games," I murmured, my mind too addled to do anything but repeat after Catriona.

My eyes fluttered as Miriam continued to rock my shaft back and forth along Catriona's sex, but never quite guiding me inside.

Our desperate pleas drew forth a haughty laugh from Miriam. She licked the side of my neck, continuing to tease us both. I'd already been driven nearly to bliss from fucking Miriam; her current teasing and the wet softness of Catriona's folds were bringing me right up to the brink. I shivered and bit down on my lip.

"Don't come just yet, Anvarr," Miriam purred. "Catriona wants it inside her, I'm certain of it."

"Yes," Catriona said, her hips bucking, her wild eyes looking down at my twitching cock. "Hold it back, Anvarr."

Nuzzling my neck, Miriam rubbed the tip of my shaft against Catriona's clit before moving me back down. She slipped me inside just an inch, which made Catriona shiver and writhe.

And then she pulled me back out again. Catriona let out a keening, pleading cry.

I almost used my strength to shove Miriam away and claim the redhead, but by the gods, the torment was too wondrous. The ache inspired by Miriam's torture had set me ablaze in a way that no debauchery ever had before.

I wondered how much I could take...

In the end, I could take not much more at all.

Miriam's licks to my neck and her firm grip, Catriona's desperate whimpers, and the sensation of my cock rubbing against her folds...

All of it proved far too much to bear.

I cried out, my cock pulsing within Miriam's grasp, ropes of my seed spraying against Catriona's sex and upon her heaving stomach. Catriona thrashed back and forth, letting out a whine of disappointment that was soon drowned out by Miriam's triumphant growls.

Miriam continued to stroke me, working her thumb underneath the tip to draw out more of my release. I swayed but Miriam gripped the leash to steady me, even as she stroked more and more out of me.

The candlelight sparkled against the droplets covering Catriona's shaking body.

"What a mess," Miriam said, tutting.

Still gripping my leash, she leaned down and flicked her tongue against Catriona's folds. The redhead yelped as Miriam lapped up the mess, tracing her tongue along Catriona's stomach to collect the rest of my release.

"Still quite hard and eager, though," she murmured, giving my cock a faint squeeze. "Think you can still give Catriona what she needs?"

Thanks to the trembling of my limbs and the fire in my chest, I could only nod.

After one last lick against Catriona's stomach, the wicked nun finally guided my shaft towards the redhead's clenching sex.

She moved back behind me, both hands settling on my hips. Resting her head against my shoulder, she gave me a firm shove, pushing my still-hard cock inside Catriona.

Both women cried out: Catriona with relief, Miriam with triumph.

"Give it to her nice and fast," Miriam murmured into my ear.

That would have been my plan regardless of Miriam's command. Leaning forward, I braced my shaking hands upon the sheets. Catriona's body rippled and shook beneath me, her brown eyes wide and hungry.

She only broke my gaze to look down between her legs, her jaw dropping at the sight of my shaft plunging inside of her. As I panted and pounded away, Miriam kept one hand on the small of my back and moved the other between Catriona's legs.

As Miriam's fingers brushed along those seed-spattered folds, the redheaded nun wailed with relief, her back arching.

After enduring so much torment, it was no surprise that Catriona lasted less than a minute. Her eyes rolled back into her head, her soft legs shaking and tensing. Her chest heaved, her ample breasts bouncing.

Catriona blurted out a prayer of gratitude to Saint Morwenna before unleashing a trembling moan. She twitched and flailed about as best she could within the bonds, as if lightning was coursing through her veins. Sputtering and whimpering, she bit down on her lip and fell still, save for a few shivers and tremors.

"Don't stop," Miriam purred into my ear, before moving to brace both of her hands upon my hips. "You still have some more left in you, don't you?"

"I think so," I said, shuddering even as I maintained that furious pace, using Catriona's body and sending quakes through the bedframe.

"Would you like that, Sister Catriona?" Miriam asked.

The panting, sweaty nun managed a slow, shaky nod.

"Go on, then," cooed Miriam, her hands tensing against my hips. "You wouldn't want to disappoint Sister Catriona, would you?"

Of course, disappointing her would result in more delicious punishment at Catriona's hands, but in that moment, all I cared for was seeking another climax and pleasing the nuns. The divine fire of my need replaced every other consideration.

Catriona's moans encouraged me, as did Miriam's soft clenching of my hips and her gentle coos in my ear. Usually I would have struggled to climax so quickly, but the desperate pleas from Catriona and Miriam's commands built me up to another peak.

That delicious ache returned. My loins roared with need, my legs quaked, and my muscular arms tensed as my fingers gripped the sheets beside Catriona's head.

"There, that's it," Miriam hissed. "I can feel it. Nearly there, Anvarr."

"Yes," Catriona growled in between whimpers and moans. "Give in, Anvarr. Quickly."

Miriam licked the back of my neck and gave my hips another squeeze. I arched my back, my muscles clenching. As I shoved myself in as far as I could for one last thrust, Miriam tightened her grasp, keeping me pinned against Catriona's body.

After another lick to the back of my neck, I surrendered for the second time that evening. The spray of my seed was weaker than during my first orgasm, but the intensity of the sensations was just as potent. I writhed and snarled above Catriona, my hips shaking, my grasp tightening against the sheets.

"Good, good," Miriam cooed against my neck, before peppering my back with soft kisses. Each little sensation drew out another flare of bliss, leaving me gasping and nearly limp above Catriona.

With Miriam's help I slid outside of the trembling nun. My shaky hands fumbled with the bonds for a few moments before freeing the redhead. Her soft arms rose, entwining around my neck and pulling me in for a kiss.

"Praise be to Saint Morwenna," she murmured against my lips.

"Aye," I said, grinning. "Praise be to Saint Morwenna."

**

I left both of my lovers to tend to their evening prayers and returned to my quarters, a giddy smile on my face. Exhausted by the wild lovemaking and the hours of training, I collapsed onto my bed in a sweaty heap.

Before I could doze off, a shrill bird's cry caught my attention. During my time on the island, I'd heard that particular cry on many occasions, but never at night.

I grunted.

Perhaps there was a nest of particularly talkative birds nearby. I shifted against the sheets.

Another cry sounded out, a bit closer than the first. Something was off about the pitch: a bit lower than what I'd have expected.

My eyes narrowed, recalling how Kovgaardian raiders would imitate the hoots of owls as signals before an attack. I rose from the bed and darted over to the window.

I saw nothing save the moonlit trees of the convent, swaying slightly in the breeze.

A shadow dropped from the wall. More followed.

Baron Rikard had organized sentry patrols along the walls and the outer perimeter of the convent. Were they just in the middle of a shift change?

Another bird-cry split the night. A thud rose from the hall behind me.

I darted across the room, snatched up my axe and shield. Soft footsteps pattered down the hall.

As my body rippled with the anticipation of violence, I nudged the door open with my boot.

At the far end of the hall, one of Baron Rikard's men was slumped against the floor, blood pooling beneath him.

A hooded man stood over him, holding a bloody dagger.

He wore the blue cloak of Selwyn's militia.

Rage took hold. Though I could not comprehend fully what was happening or why Selwyn's men had betrayed us, I darted into action. I sprinted down the hall, axe and shield at the ready.

The assassin flinched and flung his dagger. It sank into my shield. Before the man could draw another dagger from his belt, I slammed my shield into his chest, driving him back against the wall. A wild chop of my axe raked over his chainmail, nearly tearing through.

A shield-bash to the face left him stunned. He slid down to the floor in a daze.

"Why?" I hissed, resting my axe against his neck.

"Orders," he muttered. "Baron wants the convent. Wants it all."

One savage chop of my axe ended his traitorous life. I bellowed as I ran, hoping my wrathful cries would rouse the other nuns and Baron Rikard's surviving men.

"Treachery! Selwyn has betrayed us!" I roared.

I rushed deeper into the convent, passing by two more dead sentries and a corpse wearing the blue cloak of Baron Selwyn's army.

Bells rang through the convent as I continued to shout out warnings. A cry rose from the courtyard, followed by a bellow of rage. Hopefully the militia encamped outside would rush to our defense...though they could be facing a battle of their own, if Selwyn had attacked their camp.

Orgumir, Sorunna, and the other Kovgaardians would be in danger as well.

Cursing, I sprinted deeper into the convent, towards the nuns' dormitories. Three men in blue cloaks pounded at a wooden door with axes and warhammers, heedless of my approach.

Murmuring a silent prayer to the hungry gods of my people, I closed in for the kill.

I flung my axe. It spun through the air, chopping into the back of the closest man's neck. Screaming, he crumpled to the floor. My shield caught the first counter-swing of an axe, then I snatched up the dying man's warhammer and broke a second soldier's knee. I silenced his scream with a brutal slam to his face.

The last man bellowed out a curse, then fell a moment later as the warhammer crashed into his side, breaking several ribs.

Panting and snarling, I dropped the warhammer and tore my axe free from the soldier's twitching body.

A scream echoed from further down the hall. I ran, axe and shield at the ready.

A door stood open. Snarling, I charged inside, only to skid to a halt at the sight of Catriona, clad in a flimsy silken shift, with a blue-cloaked soldier standing behind her. His dagger rested on her throat and his other hand gripped her short red hair.

"Hold there, savage," the soldier hissed.

Catriona's brown eyes watered, her lips trembling.

"You don't want her," I said slowly, my sweaty hand tensing around my axe. "I'm of more value to the Baron. He's thrown his lot in with Grozdan, yes?" I asked, though I could not fathom why, given their rivalry. "If so, then Grozdan will want me. I've killed more of his men than anyone else over these past weeks. I was the one who raided his port, who freed Rikard so he could rise up and-"

"Back," the soldier snarled, pricking the knife into Catriona's pale neck. She squeaked, though her eyes shifted over towards a small shelf beside her. Upon it were several holy books and the silken flogger she'd used upon me during my first night in the convent.

"All right, all right," I said, taking a slow step back. "But listen to me: Grozdan won't care for a nun as a captive. But me? The northern savage who has foiled his plans? He'll want me. You'll receive a far greater reward if you bring me to him."

"Axe and shield down," the soldier hissed, tugging on Catriona's hair and drawing forth a sob from the young woman.

Grimacing, I set my weapon and shield upon the bed and raised my hands.

"Easy. Easy. Let her go."

The soldier took a long sniff of her hair, then lowered the knife. Before he could shove her away, Catriona stomped down onto his foot. He grunted with surprise and pain, and the nun's hand lashed out, grabbing hold of the flogger on the shelf.

Spinning, she raked the strands over the man's face with all of her might. Given that the implement was a tool for teasing rather than a proper weapon, it didn't do much other than force the man to stagger back a step.

With no time to reach for my axe, I charged and collided with the man, bellowing in pain as his dagger scraped my shoulder. The brute force of my tackle sent us both careening through the stained-glass window.

Together we tumbled down several feet, landing amidst the fragments of holy glass. I headbutted him, breaking his nose, before snatching up a shard of glass and plunging it into his eye. He twitched and went still.

Panting, I rose from my victim. Catriona stood in the window, her eyes wide and mouth agape.

"Are you all right?" I asked, wiping blood from where the knife had grazed my shoulder.

"Yes, yes," she murmured, shaking. "You're bleeding, Anvarr."

"I know. And the bleeding is not yet done. Hand me my axe."

**

Blood dripped from my axe and sweat ran down my face as I marched through the chaotic camp. The foiling of the attempt to kidnap the nuns had sealed our victory. Baron Selwyn's men had been hoping to use the hostages to force Rikard's men to surrender, and so when the alarm had reached Rikard, the old baron had sprung into action.

His rag-tag militia, some of them still a bit drunk from the night's festivities, had fallen upon Selwyn's men. My Kovgaardian warriors had earned glory and honor as well, serving as the vanguard for the wild plunge into Selwyn's camp.

Dozens of our men had fallen, though. Selwyn's forces, though surprised by how we'd foiled their plans, had still been ready for a potential fight. Nuns tended to the wounded, soldiers dragged away the dead, and I stalked through the camp in search of the traitorous baron who had unleashed that carnage.

Sorunna tossed the young baron out of a tent. With his hands bound behind his back, he could do nothing but flop onto the mud. Groaning, he rolled onto his back and looked to me.

"It's not over, you know," he said quickly. "You can take the estates of the other rebels. You can become a baron in your own right. You and all of your brave-"

I kicked him in the face, knocking loose a tooth.

"And what, precisely was your plan?" I spat. "Seize the convent and hand it over as a gift to the Duke?"

"At first, yes," he said, spitting out another broken tooth. "With the convent under my control, Grozdan would have recognized me as a loyal baron." He smiled, blood leaking from his lips. "Then he would have let his guard down. Nothing else would have gotten me close enough to finish him."

"You would sacrifice the convent and the lives of Baron Rikard's rebels, so you could become a tyrant in your own right?"

"I would not have been a tyrant. My people have prospered under my rule. So would all of Etmorra."

I crouched down before him, resting my bloody axe on his cheek.

"It was a clever ruse. Had you included the Mother Superior in on your plan, it could have worked. We could have feigned surrender, drawn Grozdan out of Saerkell, and then brought him down together. Your ambition blinded you."

Gods, Selwyn's scheme was exactly the sort of thing my brother would have done.

Murmurs rose from behind me; I turned to see the peasant militia bowing their heads as Isidora marched through the camp. Her robe-clad figure cast an imposing shadow over the baron. Even through the veil, her eyes gleamed with steel as cold as any blade.

"Baron Selwyn," Isidora said icily. "We granted you and your men sanctuary and friendship. We divulged secrets and shared the bounty of our gardens. We tended to your wounded, welcomed believers among your ranks into our chapels. And this is how you repay our kindness?"