The Vixen Torn Read online

She threaded her arm through his, and even in her heels she was a good half foot shorter than him, “I’m sure your father can be made to see sense.” Her fingers stroked his arm, touching brazenly against his wrist. “You’ll be back to high class soirees before you know it.”

  “I’m afraid it’s a bit late for him to change his mind,” he said regretfully as he led her down the cobblestone street of the city. It was night and the people they passed by her of the respectable sort, thanks to the merchant class status of the neighbourhood. “He’s been unconscious for days. The healers say he’s not likely to come out of it before... before he passes.”

  “And what of your cousin? He doesn’t happen to have a fatal illness just itching to get out in the next day or so?”

  The building he took her to was one of the nice, rectangular structures. Old, by human standards, with some lovely carvings. He led her inside and it was dark. She judged immediately that even before this incident he was definitely out of favour with his father, for there were no signs of servants and what furniture there was laid beneath protective cloths.

  “He is hale and hearty,” he said with some sadness as the heavy door clicked shut. “Sorry for the state of things,” he said as he guided her towards the stairs. “I’ve only kept the room up above set for myself.”

  She followed after him, her hand still touching his forearm as she schemed. He was a handsome man, and she would have eagerly spent the night with him at any other time. But a man that was down on his luck was easily manipulated. Should she save him from his sorrows, his gratitude would be enough to buy her a small villa...

  Anjasa’s smile widened at the thought, “Well, just who knows about this deal?”

  The townhouse was still in good condition, despite its obvious disuse, but when he took her up to the main bedroom she could see the antique furniture was clean. Any one piece would be worth more than most peasants made in a lifetime. As turned on the lamps she caught sight of a large canopy bed and double doors opening onto a balcony.

  “My cousin and I,” he said glumly, setting the bottle down on a dresser which contained a number of glasses and previously emptied bottles. “He plans to humiliate me by springing it unannounced after my father passes, I’m sure,” he said heavily.

  “Well, if three know a secret, there’s only one sure fire way to keep it hidden,” she offered morbidly as she looked over the bed with obvious interest. It had been a while since she’d been in such an opulent room, and the sight made her smile.

  Meanwhile the young nobleman blinked and stared at her, a little surprised at her remark. Obviously having trouble reconciling such a harsh statement with his preconceptions of her, it was perhaps only that generous hourglass figure that distracted him enough to let it go without question. “Wine?” he asked, turning to uncork the bottle.

  “Absolutely,” she agreed and she spun about to look at him with a light expression that belied her previous statement. “So, do you have copies of the will?”

  Popping the cork off with a bit of carelessness, undoubtedly brought on by too much drink already, he began to pour up the glasses. “Copies?” he said with some confusion, loosening his collar then handing her the one fluted glass. “Oh yes. One for me, one for my cousin,” he said before taking a sip. “Not that having a copy does me any good. All it says is I can’t have any damn thing. The fewer copies of that the better. Preferably none copies,” he remarked dryly.

  “So I think we should make it so,” she agreed as she sipped from her glass. “After all, his word against yours won’t carry much weight. You’re the son. His true heir.”

  He stared at her, looking a bit surprised by her idea. “Take it?” he said with a furrow of his brow. “I mean... that would sort of solve everything, wouldn’t it?” he mused, his collar undone low enough to show a bit of that chest hair so common on human men. “But they would never let me near it,” he said as he sat down on the edge of the bed facing the balcony.

  “Well, it’s not like they know me. And I do look like quite the diplomat, you know, once I get out of these clothes,” she teased, her lids descending part way and making her look even more enticing. She’d been drinking the entire night, but she knew how to handle her liquor and had only a slight buzz.

  Sitting there mulling over her words, he looked a bit dubious. Or perhaps it was just the fact that his mind—judging by the bulge in his crisp pants—was elsewhere, and he had come there with intentions on her that didn’t involve conspiring.

  All the same he brushed his hand through that thick head of hair again and said, “Well... maybe. But it’ll be locked in a safe or something, I’d imagine.”

  She nodded thoughtfully, taking a step towards him and let her hand fall to his exposed chest. “I’m sure in the morning, when we’ve sobered up, we can come up with a plan. After all, you must surely know your cousin well, and he must seem so predictable to you. He probably uses his own birthdate for his code or something.”

  Loren blinked and his eyes trailed up her curvaceous form, resting at her breasts yet again rather than her emerald gaze. “I...” he laid his glass aside, the feel of her fingers upon his chest only troubling his ability to think even further. “You’re a very special woman after all,” he said with some astonishment in his voice.

  Anjasa’s smile grew and she shook her head modestly, “I simply hate to see something so cruelly stolen from someone. Your cousin did nothing to deserve it,” she said with affection, ignoring the fact that he’d done even less.

  He blinked repeatedly, as if doing so could chase away the fog of alcohol. Though coupled with the tantalizing stroke of her fingers on his chest, moving through his peppering of brown hair there, he couldn’t seem to focus entirely. “If I can get my inheritance back,” he began and licked his lips, staring blatantly at her rather generous breasts, “I’ll owe you. A lot.”

  “For now, how about we just chase the worries aside,” she purred smoothly, her eyes half lidded. Her stare was seductive, cunning, but most of all, it was hungry. She wanted him, for all his upset, for all his fears and worries.

  Anjasa had never been shy about chasing what she wanted, and wasn’t above sleeping with men—and women—for money. Yet this was pure, manipulative desire on her part. A swank place to stay for a night, and a new, rich, boy toy. “You just lay back for me.”

  The crisp white and black trimmed outfit he wore had weathered his drinking well. It creased slightly as he reclined back immediately, as if her very words had kicked out some suspension beneath him. “Gods,” he swore as he looked up at her with his amber eyes, “if Father knew what an Elvish vixen I’d met...”

  “He wouldn’t be able to do a damn thing to stop you,” she finished as she straddled his hips, leaning over him and letting her large breasts fall towards his face beneath that stunning red dress. Her black, full hair framed her exotic, tanned features and she licked over her lips slowly.

  With that longing gaze of his on her bust he nodded. “He couldn’t stop me,” he reiterated and very brazenly he lifted a hand. He was not a small man, did not look the type to be meek, and perhaps the way he reached up and squeezed one of those large mounds then was proof of that true self poking out of his melancholy.

  She gave an exaggerated gasp of pleasure as she pushed her plump chest down into his palm. Her hips rocked slightly as she nodded eagerly. “What right does he have to control you? You’re a grown man,” she urged him. “You’re strong, and virile, and deserve to have beautiful women fall for you.”

  Anjasa could see it. The spark of something in his eyes lighting up right before her. That large, human hand squeezed her sumptuously large bust with a hard tightness, as if he were re inflating back to the man he—she assumed—was. “Even Elvish women,” he added as his eyes widened.

  “I saw you at your worst, and I still wanted you, didn’t I?” she asked smoothly, bending down over his body and kissing just below his ear. “I couldn’t wait to be in private with you, could I?”
/>   Her clever words worked, she felt his manhood swell beneath her as she sat atop his groin. The pleasant thickness grew so very fast to throb up against her. While those fingers of his clenched her teat tight, too tight, causing her a twinge of pain. “That’s right,” he husked back to her and inhaled her scent deeply, the rich aroma of lavender and sex such an excitement.

  She traced along the seam of his ear with her tongue, groaning at his brutality. “You’re so rough,” she panted, but there was only pleasure contained in her voice. “What a bad boy you are,” she said as her hands worked over his chest, freeing him of his shirt in a skilled, eager manner.

  Seeing him without his shirt on showed him to be in better shape than she would’ve guessed. He might have spent his time drinking and whoring away his inheritance, but he must have spent at least some of that time training. For his broad chest was toned and strong, even for a human. She could see where the roughness of that grip came from, because his biceps swelled nicely.

  “When I see what I want,” he began in a low voice, “I take it.” He clenched her tit again and leaned in to nip her neck as his own chest rose and fell with his increased breathing. Those dark nipples of his stiff on his bare chest, and only a silver choker like chain to garb his upper body.

  She moaned louder, right next to his ear as her hips ground into his body once more. “I hope your neighbours don’t call the guards,” she mused. “I have a feeling it’s going to be a long night.”

  She pulled away from him just enough that she could start to tug up her dress over her thick, toned thighs, revealing her sex to be deliciously bare beneath.

  Loren had been built back up by her, and not just the pleasantly large cock that swelled through his crisp, white black pants. As he gazed at her bare slit, his eyes went wide and he went speechless. He even managed to let go over her breast just to touch his face, as if to prod himself out of his stupor. “That’s beautiful,” he said, as if it was the first he’d seen.

  The first that mattered anyhow.

  She looked down over her body, her torso tilting back slightly so that she could look at her smooth pussy with only the strip of dark hair tufted at the top. “You think?” she asked curiously, her finger delving to it and pulling out some of the hidden juices.

  The effect she was having on him was obvious by his quickened breathing. He reached out as she touched herself, brushing his own thumb over that strip of hair. “By the light of the gods, I’ve never seen a more perfect one,” and he swallowed down the excess saliva he’d built up in a matter of seconds.

  She smiled, looking so touched and pleased as her fingers worked together to spread her lips for him, showing off that pink sex lewdly. “I’ve not thought much about it,” she admitted as her torso bent back more and her thumb glided over her clit. “Oh,” she sighed, taking in a deep breath. “Do you think you’ll fit?”

  The swell of white fabric over his groin rose up with the thick throb of desire beneath. “I better,” he murmured as his thumb continued to trace that thin strip of soft pubic hair, lavishing in it as if it were some rich fabric from a foreign land. “Or I’ll make it fit,” he added on more firmly, and she saw his handsome face contort a bit, making him look sterner as he gazed longingly at her sex.

  A visible shiver ran through her and her nipples stiffened beneath her dress at the threat. Her breath caught, and for a moment, she forgot she was supposed to be playing him. Making him fall for her. Making him need her.

  Instead, the only thought that filled her mind was of him fucking her, and two of her digits pushed into her wantonly exposed sex.

  Loren was entranced by the sight of her fingering herself. It was only when his desires and rising confidence reached the breaking point that he snapped out of it enough to use his free hand to pull her dress from one shoulder and expose a heavy breast. He took hold of that large mound and squeezed its bare flesh, hard and without restraint. “Fuck,” he swore. “You are the hottest...” and he trailed off as if unable to finish the words.

  Her bare nipple was so tight against his palm, the large flesh surrounding it allowing his fingers to sink in. Her large breasts full and heavy as she pressed into him. “You wanna fuck me?” she asked with a lewd grind of her hips.

  The wetness of her cunt pressed into his fine pants, but he didn’t care or notice. He simply groaned at the feel of her against his cock, wanted more desperately. “I’m gonna fuck you,” he responded firmly, and he sat up and wrapped his lips about her areola. He suckled her there with a ravenous hunger, tugging on that full, hard teat as his other hand fumbled with his pants, managing to undo them through sheer desperation it seemed. The pressure of release caused that thick, veiny cock to pounce out and slap against her fingers and labia, so hot and hard.

  Her fingering stopped, her eyes instead focused on that molten manhood. Some of it was for show, an exaggerated tinge of lust coming to her gaze, but beyond it all, Anjasa was a slut. Strip away her ambitions, her cunning, her manipulation and greed, and she’d still sleep with any man with a big enough cock to please her. If Loren was a pauper, she still would have fucked him on the streets.

  “Oh lords,” she hissed excitedly.

  Regardless of how much of it was show and how much was genuine, he ate it up. He clenched her breast then reached up, taking hold of her long, black hair and tugging it as he twisted her head to the side so he could bite at her neck. “You like that?” he asked in a deep husk. “Bigger than those elven ones, huh?” he remarked, and she watched that thick, pink shaft throb lewdly betwixt her thighs.

  “Yes,” she hissed as her hand went to the back of his head and drew him in, feeling dizzy with her own lust. She rubbed her clit, eagerly, and then brought her fingers to her lips, suckling it for a moment and moaning around them.

  Loren, who had been so sad and despondent earlier, grasped hold of her hair and breast tight as he flipped her over onto her back upon the bed. He shimmied his pants a bit lower as he ground his thick, hard cock to her quim and loomed over atop of her. “C’mon,” he husked, and she knew she’d awoken the man inside him. “You want it,” he urged with another grind over that damp slit, “beg for it.”

  Her green eyes opened wide in surprise, but her lips parted nearly instantly. “Please, oh lords... You can’t leave me here wanting like this. My pussy burns for you,” she confessed as she squirmed beneath him. “Fuck me!”

  He looked like the type, to her, to draw it out and make her beg long, but she could tell she’d already had too powerful of an effect upon him. His dick swelled too hungrily for her, and he couldn’t bear to taunt her any longer. Instead he moved his hips to grind his cock down over her cunny until the crown pressed to her slit. “Here you go,” he said to her in a dark voice. “Time to make it fit,” and despite the bragging he was able to cram that thick girth up into her with the aid of her juices. Though he let loose a surprised moan at her tightness as he clenched her tit for support.

  She knew how to grasp a man just so, to make him feel like he had the biggest cock in the world, and her body angled perfectly for it. She cried out noisily beneath him, a wild shout of passion filling the room. “F fuck!” she cursed, her body grinding against him as her legs moved around his waist and clasped him into her. “Oh fuck you’re big!”

  The deposed lord to be pulled back his hips and thrust again immediately, his balls slapping against her noisily as he thrust with wanton abandon.

  She was good. Almost too good. She could bring out such fire from men’s hearts, and he kept hold of her tit and hair so tightly as he bucked into her. An exquisite look of pleasure covered his face hovering over her, as the handsome young man thrust away ravenously. His toned chest heaving as he struggled to keep his eyes open against the tide of pleasure. “Dammit you’re one tight elf bitch,” he cursed at her, though she knew it was anything but unpleasant for him.

  And the cruel word only made her cunny throb harder, more genuinely around him. She got off on this, on their lust an
d passion, and her body sang as he slammed into her. Each thrust sent her breasts rippling, her body rocking beneath him on the bed as she clung to him with her legs and pussy. “No chance of me being knocked up!” she growled and squeezed his cock harder. “Nothing to lose by pumping me full of your load.”

  Her words surprised him, and he blinked, trying to clear the fog of lust away from his gaze as he looked down at her beautiful features. Something rolled around in his head. Doubt? Did he think she was trying to trick him? What mattered was he never slowed down, never ceased that hard thrusting.

  In a growling voice he said, “I don’t even care anymore!” And she knew that was true, she had him so jacked up on desire for her—the throb of that thick shaft a testament to it—he’d not be pulling out either way. Which was good, as his panting and the swelling of his girth let her know it was coming.

  “Oh Lord,” she hissed, no longer the generic curse and praise to the upper class, but to him and him alone. Her pussy clenched around his throbbing, heated masculinity and she moaned loudly, “Please!”

  His pumping all but ended, instead he gave her a couple last, savage thrusts as she felt his dick swell within her. He groaned so lewdly as he came then, his shaft pulsing as he spurt thick, virile seed into her depths. “Yes,” he grunted, “yesssss.” She could make kings of men with some sweet words and her hot body. He revelled in the sweet pleasure of release inside her exquisite folds, spurting to the very last drop all he had inside her.

  Her moans and cries filled the room, encasing him in the safe, secure knowledge that he’d fucked her well, that he was a man.

  “Fuck,” she groaned at his final thrust, her entire body shivering and her nipples poking out hard atop her massive breasts. “Fuck that was good. Fuck you’re good.”

  He was grinning, the look of confidence and self—satisfaction ripe on his handsome young face. He could make smugness look good there in the afterglow of sex.

  Heedless of the mess he’d make he yanked his dick out of her, leaving her to drool his seed onto the rich bedspread. “You’re a lucky woman,” he didn’t leave her, instead he climbed up over her, knees on either side as that slick, honey glistened, cum stained cock dangled out before her face. With his hand still in her hair he pulled her head up towards it.