Enticed: An Erotic Sacrifice Read Online Free PDF

finished, and she drew Jane’s pulsing little pearl deep into her mouth, sucking hard as if to coax out the last bit of pleasure. Jane cried out hoarsely, half sobbing at the sharp pain-pleasure…and then Dahla gave a moan of release as she fell, shuddering, against her thighs.
    There was silence for a moment; the only sounds that of rasping, rough breathing. Jane swayed, half falling off the mattress, held in place only by her trembling arms and the balls of her feet on the edge. Her body was wet and dripping, burning and shuddering, and her pussy was so swollen and hot it felt twice as large as usual. The dull, heavy throb tolled through her torso and limbs like a low, rolling bell.
    Her mouth was dry, her hair plastered to her body, her wrists chafed and her shoulders aching, and she prayed the night was over. That there would be no more couples.
    But then Dahla pulled back onto her haunches and looked up at Jane, her eyes filled with that same heat.
    “No,” Jane whispered. “ No. ” She tried in vain to free herself, to kick and buck the woman away, but her fingers were too strong, her grip too determined….
    And when Dahla rose, climbing up her goddess’s hot, sticky body with her hands and lips and tongue, Jane fainted…succumbing to the welcome oblivion of unconsciousness.

— IV—
     
    Zaren was dreaming.
    He was hot, burning, as if he were engulfed in flames. Something seared down his side…fire…and he reached to brush it away, but it wouldn’t stop blazing into him.
    His world was dark, shadowy, filled with strong, heavy scents and closeness…so close. He almost couldn’t breathe…
    Jane .
    He could see her long fire-hair, and he reached out…but the curls fluttered away, filtering through the tips of his fingers. Her sleek, creamy body, her lush pink lips…they danced just out of reach. He cried out for her, reached again…but his body was too heavy and awkward and he couldn’t catch her…he couldn’t touch her.
    Jane. Come back.
    He was hot and damp, and he struggled to throw off the murkiness, to shove away whatever it was that enveloped him, weighted him down…kept him from Jane…and suddenly there were hands on him. Cool. Firm. Comforting.
    Something trickled between his dry, hot lips…cold and welcome.
    The soft murmur of a voice. Voices.
    Hands pressed gently at him, soothed and smoothed, massaged and stroked, and he felt himself losing the fight, easing back onto…something. Soft. Like a nest…
    Or a bed.
    Bed.
    The unfamiliar word settled strong and stark in his foggy mind, and he suddenly had an image of something that was a… bed . High off the ground. With four tall poles at each corner. In a… place. A room . With walls not made from trees and…
    He frowned in his memory, pain shooting through him at the temples as he tried to remember… The searing pain in his side and leg returned. Heat. Agony.
    Zaren shifted restlessly, reaching out for something. He saw the bed again, and Jane lay on it. Her glorious hair was strewn around her, spread over white mounds of…clouds? Soft and rumpled and inviting. She smiled and beckoned and he reached for her…
    But the dark, slushy pain seized him again and his mind melted into shadows and heat. He rolled and slept and moaned, fighting to get back to her.
    And then Jane was gone, and another woman, dark-haired and heart-faced, was there…beautiful and soft, smiling at him…
    Mother .
    The thought was dragged from somewhere deep inside him, and Zaren stilled his mind even as his physical body burned and fussed and fought.
    Mother. He clung to the word, the image, and the woman bent forward as if summoned. Something glinted at her throat, something round and shiny, and he could see it…he recognized it… He reached out, his hand lifting…and then it fell heavily onto his belly when nothing was there but air.
    The soothing hands were on him again, the cool touch, the trickle of icy water, the scents and taste of freshness and