The Archer: Lost Omegas Book 1

Touch

CYRENE

This was a mistake. She should have screamed for help, alerted the others to her plight. Instead, she was laying on her bed roll, stiff as a board, letting the most infuriating man touch her. Rub scented oil into her skin. His rough hands caressing her legs, her abdomen, her sides. She couldn't call it gentle. He pressed too hard, his hands felt scratchy from numerous calluses. Yet, it felt amazing. The harder he pressed her body into the roll beneath her the more it came alive. She tried to breathe the arousal away, use every calming and centering technique she learned in the Skulk, yet the swirling pleasure inside her was climbing. He brushed along her wound on her side, beneath her last rib, where the skin was angry and inflamed, and the jolt of pain from the contact only fed the arousal inside her. She could feel her clit swell as desire blossomed in her core. His fingers spread across her lower belly, rubbing up across her stomach, brushing the binding across her breasts, before traveling back down. And again, he used the same pattern across her skin. Then he moved back to her legs. Traveling from her knees to her hips, then to her inner thighs. His long fingers brushing her mound in the process. She wanted him to stop. And she wanted more. 

She was tense still, body tight under his hands. The arousal and vulnerability in this situation not allowing her to relax. She pressed her thighs together as hard as she could, clenching harder still each time he traveled up towards her mound. The squeezing of her thighs only put more pressure on her swollen clit. She was hyperaware of how close his fingers were to that spot, how it felt last time he had touched her there. The awareness caused more tension.

"You are very tense, kitten. Relax for me." His baritone voice rumbled through her. 

Please stop. Please touch me. Get the hell out of here! Put your hands on me again, make me come.

Her thoughts were all over the place.  She could feel her thighs twitching from her pressing them together so hard. And from the little sparks of pleasure coming from the pressure on her clit. Why was he doing this? Was this some kind of power thing? Prove some level of dominance over her? These thoughts damped her desire a bit, getting control back from her body.

"Get out of your head. I can hear your thoughts from here." He started a low, continuous growl. It rolled through him, the sound reminding Cyrene of distant thunder, deep and soothing. He did not pause, it wasn't tied with his breathing in any way. It was a strange thing to hear. She was unsure why he was suddenly growling at her. Usually, when he growled it was to voice his displeasure or anger with her. But this...this was different. The more she heard it, the deeper it seemed to seep into her body. It loosened the muscles of her calves. Then her thighs. Then her stomach and chest. Finally, her arms and neck. The hypnotic growl turning her into a boneless creature. Her eyes drifted closed. She could not remember a time she felt more relaxed. She should be terrified, going near limp from a growl, but it was so soothing that fear or anxiety never entered her mind.

"I'm going to turn you over, dvasia." He continued that growl. He rolled her over, she didn't even help, just allowing him to position her how he wished. He poured more oil from the bladder into his hands, rubbing her feet. Pressing into her tired soles with his thumbs, working the soreness from them. He moved up to her calves, squeezing and kneading her strong legs. The muscles protested at his firm grip at first, but then the ache would fade into pleasure within moments. He repeated the process with the back of her thighs. Fingers traveling up to graze the bottom of her underwear, and dipping inside her thighs briefly. Just enough to reignite her desire. With his low growl surrounding her, there was no suspicion or fear to taint it this time. When he brushed the juncture where her bottom met her thighs, and she felt herself grow damp.

His fingers skimmed the wound on her thigh, from the battle with the Serpe. She jerked in response to his heavy touch on a sensitive spot. "Shhh." He soothed her. Bending down he grazed his lips over the spot. He might as well have closed his lips over her core at the wetness that suddenly came from her at the touch of his lips on her skin. She could smell her own arousal now. Thankfully, he did not mention it, but kept up this massage, reaching up to start rubbing her back. He stroked up and down the long, firm muscles of her back. She sucked in a breath as he rubbed over her lower spine. She was growing wetter. She should stop this. But that growl, that wonderful growl, left her unwilling to move.