Slave-Girl of the Dragon Rider, Lisa Skydla [mobile ebook reader .txt] 📗

Completely out of breath and with heart racing she opened her eyes and looked at him in wonder. Why was he so cold and aloof one moment, and the next so full of tenderness and warmth? Would she ever learn to understand him? The dragon rider smiled at her and opened the door of the sedan; Sinja immediately wanted to gather up the purchases, but he put his hand over hers. “Leave it there, the men will bring the things upstairs for you” he ordered calmly. Sinja obeyed and let him help her down from the sedan. They went into the palace together, where Artyom took her to her room. He studied her intensely, then took off her collar, pulled a key from his pocket, and unlocked the door to the balcony. “Promise me you will wear the veil whenever you go outside” he demanded. “I promise” she replied quickly. Just the thought of at last being able to see the steppe inspired her, eagerly imagining feeling the wind stroking through her hair. She looked longingly toward the open door, but the men had not yet brought her things up to her room. Artyom’s presence was also distinctly clear, he put a hand to her cheek, and looked at her full of desire. She snuggled gently into the palm of his hand, closing her eyes to enjoy the tenderness. Almost violently he suddenly broke loose and retreated a step, startling her. Sinja looked at him fearfully. “Everything is alright, we will spend plenty of time together, but for now we would do better taking care that the seamstresses sew you some different clothes” he suggested quietly. Sinja nodded obediently, threw a last longing glance at the balcony, and followed him.
Together they went to Darina, who greeted them quite familiarly. The men had already delivered the rolls of cloth so they could immediately discuss what clothing should be produced from them. Artyom looked through the patterns, selected three and laid them out for Darina, but so that Sinja couldn’t see. “I will leave you two alone, you can manage the rest without me” he told the two women, and next moment was gone. The nomad looked up, frightened again, and wondered what she had again done wrong to make him leave so suddenly. The older servant smiled to herself, she knew precisely that Artyom needed as much time to compose his feelings as his little one. The prospect was thrilling, but she hoped the two would not make it harder than necessary. “What should we conjure up from this white cotton?” inquired Darina as a distraction. Sinja looked at the fabric, and shrugged. “I have no idea what the master has in mind, he chose everything himself” she replied uncertainly. The older woman looked at her with head shaking. “Look at the patterns and then pick what you like, just as he wants you to do, he would otherwise have given precise instructions, believe me.” Sinja smiled at her gratefully for a moment and buried herself in the pictures and fabrics. There were so many she found appealing, and it was hard to choose, but after a few hours everything had been discussed.
“You should go to your room now, it’s already late” Darina told her. The nomad gave her a startled look and then ran to her room as fast as her legs would carry her. Completely out of breath, she closed the door behind her, and froze; Artyom was sitting on the bed, watching her. “I’m sorry, master” she stammered, but this time holding his gaze. He tapped suggestively with one hand on the mattress, and she followed his silent command with heart pounding loudly in her head. She sat carefully beside him and looked straight into his eyes, remembering his instructions to forget the lessons of the slave traders. “Do not be afraid rose of the steppe, I heard you running through the hall. What happened?” he asked, concerned. Laughing softly, Sinja now indeed lowered her head, only to immediately look up to him again. “Darina noticed it was getting late, so I ran so as not to annoy you” she replied, still smiling. He watched her in fascination, his gaze seeming to reach down into her soul again. Immediately she became serious once more, and in her eyes the sad shimmer returned. “It is indeed late and you must be hungry. Forgive me for not thinking about it” Artyom offered his apologies quietly, but made no move to get up, instead pulling her gently to him, holding her with those smoky grey eyes in a spell which allowed no resistance. His lips approached hers slowly; only as he kissed her did she close her eyes, trembling. His strong arms held her firmly embraced as he once more took complete possession of her mouth, his hands drawing tenderly over her shoulder blades and gliding down along her spine, sending shivers of excitement through her body. “We really should eat something” he muttered against her lips, but didn’t stop or move away. Sinja surrendered herself to him absolutely, helpless against his tender caresses. At that moment it was no longer possible for to maintain her distrust, her body sidled demandingly up against him as her tongue timidly responded. As he moved away, she opened her eyes and smiled at him. “I want that sadness in your eyes to disappear, and that is precisely what I will do” he murmured, as if to himself.
Artyom let go and gently pushed her away a little, stood, and laid out the various fabrics on the bed. “Before we go to eat, I will explain the meaning of the veils. Lilac is reserved for holidays. On normal days you wear the blue, and the golden veil shows that you have submitted yourself to me” he explained, again with that intensive gaze. His words made her swallow, but she gathered her courage and shrugged her shoulders. “Please master, can you tell me what it means to submit myself?” she asked timidly. Artyom smiled at her, and wondered how he could best explain it to her. In this society there was only patriarchy; it was natural that the woman subjugated herself to the leadership of the man. Often there was also corporal punishment; he however was not an advocate, unless of course it served to heighten lust. “It means you are ready to let me lead you. It shows that you voluntarily belong to me, allow yourself to be educated as I see fit, and submit yourself to me entirely” he explained. “You mean I should give up my opinions, my dreams, and my faith, like a real slave?” she followed up. A smile stretched across his lips again as he stroked a strand of hair from her face. “No, that would not be right. It is more about subordinating your own will to mine. Self-negation can never be good” he answered openly. “It requires your complete faith in me, otherwise, it will not work” he added. She nodded approvingly, but didn’t feel ready to take that step, and so put the golden veil away in her closet; it was just far too early, also putting the lilac one away, as it was just a normal day. “Shall I show you how to wear it?” Artyom offered helpfully. Hesitantly, Sinja agreed, and immediately realised she had fallen into the trap as she saw his eyes suddenly light up. “Then take off your clothes, little rose of the steppe” he commanded huskily.
Sinja could have slapped herself for not seeing it coming. If she kept it on, her slave’s uniform would show through the thin golden fabric, negating the point of being hidden under the veil. Blushing, she unbuttoned her blouse, but her fingers were trembling so much it seemed to take forever. She focused on the buttons and didn’t notice her master had moved toward her, only when his hands tenderly pushed hers aside and he opened the last two buttons himself did she lift her head. She stared at him anxiously, his eyes seeming to set her soul alight. Gently, he slid the uniform up over her shoulders, while his fingertips stroked over her skin, the wide sleeves falling back and away by themselves, and her nipples stood out, instantly erect. “So beautiful” he murmured. Tenderly he drew his fingers down her arms to her fingertips and back again. With hands laid on her cheeks he bowed down and kissed her passionately. A misty gaze met him as he released her to open the ribbons of her pants, which immediately slipped down her slim figure. Artyom studied her naked body in wonder; for Sinja it felt as if she could actually feel his gaze, a wave of gooseflesh raising itself across her back and she felt the hairs standing on end as it travelled down her arms. He drew her gently to him, asking “are you cold, little rose?” She quickly shook her head, it felt far more as though she was about to burst into flame. She moved closer into his embrace, not consciously aware of her own reaction. He pressed her closer against himself with one hand, releasing his pauldrons and cloak from his shoulders with the other. Any item of clothing was in the way at the moment. Sinja gently stroked her fingertips across his muscular chest, coaxing a pained groan. His skin felt like soft, smooth leather, the muscles beneath hard and firm. Her breathing became more rapid as she caressed him, her small, petite breasts pressing firmly against him. With a low growl he took her in his arms, carried her over to the bed and laid her gently down. In a moment he was beside her, leaning on one elbow, almost lazily stroking her nipples. Embarrassed, she tried to turn away, but a faint snap from her master made her freeze as she moved. With eyes widened hugely in pleasure she looked back at him while his fingers danced tenderly over her body, carefully stroking over the flatness of her belly, gliding deeper over the mount of Venus, until his fingertips reached her labia. With a broad grin he felt the dampness already wetting her pubic hair. Reluctantly, he tugged at the curling hairs. “We will deal with that later” he determined quietly. Sinja was in no position to form a clear thought and just nodded faintly. His eyes gleamed tenderly, and he held her gaze captive with his as he parted her inner lips, one finger circling within. Sinja bit her lip firmly to prevent herself groaning out loud, the sensations he was arousing were almost too much for her; she thought her blood would boil, it felt so good. Without conscious control her pelvis raised itself against his tantalising touch, her body responding to him with a familiarity as if they had known each other for years. Artyom’s other hand stroked delicately over her nipples as he now sank two fingers deeply into her. Sinja cried out softly in pleasure, at that moment any feelings of hunger or insecurity were forgotten, even the fact that she was still a virgin not entering her mind.
For a brief moment Artyom pulled away, Sinja responding with a disappointed sigh. Quickly he pulled her closer to himself so she was lying with her back against his chest, and drew in the rose-tinted scent of her hair with relish while his right hand again moved between her thighs. “Spread your legs for me, rose of the steppe” he whispered softly in her ear. Sinja obeyed, and had to smile as his breath tickled the back of her neck. In this position she could hardly move, but precisely that was driving her arousal to previously unknown heights. Moaning, she turned as he pushed the two fingers deeper into her while his left palm still rubbed gently over her nipples. Her behind was pressing longingly against him, and she felt his growing hardness; at that moment