Sacrifice
by Luvvycat
Author's Note:
Oh, ye of a more sensitive or easily-offended nature, be forewarned, for there lies smut ahead ...Chapter 2
A Prophecy Fulfilled
"Now, luv ... listen to me. Listen to me," Jack begged Maleeka, until her eyes fastened on his face, and she seemed to grow calmer. "For the last time, you have not displeased me ... far from it! It's only ..." He sighed. The sacrifices one must make to save an innocent life ... "Well, if we're goin' to do this, we may as well do it right. There's no need to rush things ..."
He looked the girl over again with a critical eye, not as an unwanted intruder this time, but as a potential lover, and shrugged internally as he thought, I've seen worse. I've slept with worse, though not quite so young, and not while sober ...
He peered at Maleeka's face, and found that, under the layers of ritual paint now streaked with her tears, she appeared to be a relatively attractive girl, by Pelegosto standards. Her full, moist lips were the colour of ripe berries, and looked eminently kissable, and when she smiled tentatively at him, the teeth behind those lips, though not exactly pearly white, were nowhere near the advanced state of discolouration as those of most of her fellow tribespeople. He also noted that they had not yet been filed to sharp points, as many of the Pelegostos were wont to do.
As he looked into her large, liquid brown eyes -- like melted chocolate laced with honey -- he judged them to be her most arresting feature. Strangely, they reminded him of another pair of honeyed brown eyes set in an aristocratically pale and more delicately-featured face ...
At the thought, he felt a faint, but definitely palpable, stirring in his groin ...
As his eyes left her face and dropped lower, he saw that the girl did have a nice figure, if perhaps a shade underdeveloped for her age -- a flat, well-toned stomach with her little dimple of a navel proudly displayed in its centre, and smooth, unblemished skin the colour of cocoa. When he lay his hand against the plane of her stomach, causing her to flinch slightly but not in a bad way, he idly noticed that his sun-bronzed skin was nearly as dark as hers. Beneath his calloused palm, she felt soft, though slightly slick with a nervous sheen of sweat -- like damp silk. He stroked her stomach, and she flinched again with a little intake of breath.
And her hair ...
He took the crown of flowers from her head, tossing it casually aside, then moved to remove the ivory pins holding up her hair. He quickly dropped them on the dirt floor of the hut as he noted with mild disgust that they appeared to be fashioned from carved human bone. He hoped it wasn't anyone he knew!
Regaining his composure, he undid her braid, running his fingers through her thick tresses, fanning her dark hair out and around her shoulders.
She did have nice hair. Jack had always had a weakness for women with a beautiful head of hair ... it was usually the first thing his fingers itched to feel ... which was odd, considering all the delightful places one could touch on a woman.
Leaning in, he noticed that she certainly smelled good -- so feminine -- like tropical flowers with an undertone of a strange, spicy musk. Not at all like the rest of the Pelegostos he had encountered thus far, where hygiene didn't appear to be an overriding concern ... though compared to a boatload of unwashed, sweaty, rum-breathed sailors, he supposed they weren't all that bad. He supposed that she had been freshly bathed in preparation for her audience with the god, before being anointed with fragrant oils, adorned with the painted symbols, and draped in the native flora.
Sitting there, breathing in her warm, perfumed scent, feeling her soft skin beneath one rough hand, her luxuriant hair threaded through the fingers of the other ... he felt another definite twitch down below.
Rising to his knees on the pallet, moving carefully so as not to alarm her, he raised and turned the girl so that she was on her knees as well, facing him. She looked up at his face, her eyes enormous, and under his hands he could feel her trembling.
Easy, Jacky ... take things slow ... he reminded himself. She's scared enough as it is. You don't want to make it any worse for her ...
He tried to concentrate on Maleeka's best features, starting with her high, strong cheekbones. With the tips of his fingers barely skimming her skin, he traced the arch of each cheek, from apple to temple, around and behind the delicate shells of her ears (which, he noticed in passing, were pierced and adorned with earrings fashioned from a single human tooth), then down the angle of her jaw. With his fingertips lightly cradling her face, and his thumbs poised under her chin, he tilted her face up, and placed a gentle, relatively chaste kiss upon her full lips, before his mouth started sliding slowly, tantalizingly across hers.
To his surprise, he felt her nose twitch, and she giggled against his mouth. He drew away slightly, brows lowering in confusion. This was definitely not the reaction he was expecting, nor the one he was accustomed to receiving from women! He looked at her strangely, a question in his eyes.
When she saw his expression of puzzlement, she stopped giggling, and her eyes widened in horror. "Forgive me, Esteemed One! I did not mean to offend you, but ..." She reached out a hand and touched his moustache, running her fingers down either side of it.
Jack broke into a crooked grin as he realized what the matter was. The Pelegosto men, as a rule, did not grow facial hair, but rather went clean-shaven. She most likely had never seen a moustache before, let alone felt the tickle of one against her face.
He chuckled deep in his throat, considering that the tickle of a moustache must be infinitely preferable to being pricked by the sharp bone facial piercings sported by most Pelegosto men. The sound of his throaty laugh, as well as the glint of his golden smile, seemed to reassure Maleeka that she had not offended him in the least. She smiled tentatively in return.
"Feels strange, eh?" he asked in a faintly amused voice, the backs of his fingers brushing the side of her face. Placing one hand on either side of her waist, he drew her closer, and added in a low, velvety purr, "Let's try that again, shall we?"
He moved in again, and this time before he kissed her, he diverted his course, taking a moment to brush his moustache lightly against her nose, her upper lip, her chin, the corners of her mouth, to get her inured to the feel of it. His black eyes studied her reactions closely, shrewdly, until he judged that the novelty had worn off and she would no longer be distracted by the sensation. Then, he angled his head slightly, and tenderly kissed her mouth.
He found her lips soft and pliant under his, and her response this time was much different, and infinitely more gratifying. He heard her make a sound -- not a giggle now, but a sudden intake of breath akin to a sigh -- and he felt her warm hands cover his where they lay against her waist, then slowly start gliding upwards, past his wrists, elbows, and shoulders, until her arms wound around his neck. As she took a more active role in the process, and the kiss deepened, his hands moved from her waist to the small of her back, stroking her skin lightly before pulling her firmly against him.
Scruples notwithstanding, and despite the fact that he had embarked upon this venture with the greatest reluctance, he found himself starting to rise to the occasion, responding physically to the feel of her in his arms, her hips pressed against his, the warm, floral-musky smell of her filling his head, making him quite dizzy. Though, compared to him, she was practically a child, to his arms and to his senses she had the feel of a woman.
Her lips parted easily under his, and as his tongue eased into her mouth, his hands travelled up her back, finding the leather thong at the closure of her bandeau, his nimble fingers working to finish the task she had begun earlier. Before long, he was holding the loose leather string in his fingers, and the only thing keeping the bandeau modestly across her breasts was the pressure of her body against his.
He let the thong drop from his fingers to the dried-grass surface of the bed, and now both of his splayed hands began a journey across Maleeka's smooth, naked back, stroking along either side of her spine from neck to waist -- like a handler calming a skittish colt -- then back up again, over and over, his mouth still fastened on hers, tongue dipping in to meet hers teasingly, then retreating again.
He pulled back slightly, allowing her to lean back in the circle of his supporting arms, and the bandeau at last slipped from her chest, revealing all of her to his approving gaze. Her pert breasts were high and firm, not large but well-proportioned, the darker areolae surrounding dusky nipples the same colour as her berry-stained lips.
As he continued to peer at her from under his fringe of dark lashes, her eyelids slowly opened, and he recognized the glaze of desire in her eyes. "Esteemed One," she asked breathily, "Would you like to take me now?"
My, the young lady certainly is disconcertingly direct, isn't she? He smiled wryly, easing her back down to the pallet until she was sitting on her heels. "You're killin' the mood, luv," he gently rebuked, waving a chastising finger in her face, then, to take the sting out of his words, he lightly tapped the tip of her nose with his forefinger, playfully.
He saw fear rise again in her eyes, dimming the desire. "Y-you do not want me?" she asked in a tremulous voice. "You will not take me?"
Jack flashed her a lopsided grin filled with sensual promise as he murmured, "Don't worry, luv. We'll get to that, by and by ..." To reassure her, he bent down and kissed her again, not for very long, but with skill and enthusiasm. When he came up again, he asked her, "Tell me, Maleeka ... Is there anything in your prophecies that say the god cannot also please his Chosen One?"
The girl was silent, her brow knit in a perplexed frown, and for a moment Jack thought that perhaps she hadn't understood his question. But then she replied, "No. The prophecy only speaks of the Chosen One's duty to serve and please the god."
"Ah ... I thought as much," Jack said sagely. Like most religious doctrines, they were big on the you-must-do's but tended to gloss over the you-will-gets. He spread his hands, then brought them together as if in prayer. "Well, then, it pleases the god for him to see to his Chosen One's pleasure, before he takes his own."
Maleeka looked at him strangely, clearly understanding his words, but not the concept behind them. "Why would the Most Revered One concern himself with pleasing me?" Her eyes showed nothing but confusion.
"Because ..." his hands moved to brush her hair back off her shoulders, then lingered on either side of her neck, his thumbs gently massaging her collarbone. "I want to make sure you enjoy this as much as I do."
That much, at least, was true. He knew that, unless she was prepared in the right manner and well-stimulated beforehand, she was going to go through a great deal of pain, and the last thing he wanted to do was to cause this girl unnecessary pain. He wanted to steer her gently through the treacherous shoals ahead with a light touch upon the wheel, not master her with a hard and commanding hand as though ploughing through the rough swells of a hurricane gale.
He wished, not for the first time, that he had access to rum ... not just for him, to brace himself for the task at hand, but also for the girl -- not enough to get her drunk, but enough to ease her into a state of relaxation. The more relaxed she was, the easier it would go for her.
His hands travelled down the front of her body to her waist, brushing her breasts lightly on the way down. Bending his head to her neck, he started kissing her -- tiny, nibbling kisses down the length, from ear to shoulder. She sighed and tilted her head to one side, arching her neck to afford him better access. He spent some time nuzzling the shallow indent just above her collarbone, working it with tongue and lips, before drawing his tongue slowly back up the slender column. She shivered, her breath escaping in a little gasp of pleasure, and his lips curved into a self-satisfied smile against her skin.
As his lips started their journey again, retracing their previous route, his hands glided up her torso to cup both of her breasts, his open palms just grazing their tips, moving in small circles, until he felt her nipples harden under his hands. He found the brush of them against his palms as stimulating to him as it was to her, and a shiver coursed through his own body as he stirred and began to stiffen ...
He eased her down to the grass mattress, she on her back, he stretched out beside her, one hand resting upon her hip, his mouth moving to take the closest nipple into his mouth. She inhaled deeply, and her breast rose to meet his eager lips. Stretching his mouth wide, he drew as much of her small breast as he could into his open mouth with a gentle suction, then swirled his tongue around the erect tip.
She moaned, and twined her fingers into his dreadlocks, holding him to her breast, clearly enjoying what he was doing to her. Slanting his gaze upwards, he regarded her face, and his masculine ego was pleased to see the effect he was having on her. Her eyes were closed to mere slits, her dark face flushed, her lips slightly parted and swollen from his kisses, her breath coming in little, shallow gasps. He altered his technique slightly, sucking a little harder, his tongue now rapidly flicking. Her moan became an urgent little whimper, and he felt her hip move under his palm as her lower body began to shift restlessly.
It was time to begin preparing her, in earnest, for the ordeal ahead.
As he continued to stimulate her breasts with his lips and tongue, he slid his hand from her hip to the flat of her stomach, massaging her smooth flesh in slow, lazy circles, before charting a more southerly course, his hand travelling lower ... lower ...
He parted the fronds of her grass skirt, seeking the mossy triangle between her legs. Probing her secret folds gently until he found the right spot, he eased a finger into her ...
She gasped in surprise, and he felt her fingers tighten in his hair, her body tensing as he began to move slowly in and out of her.
He raised his head from her breast to murmur, "Easy, luv. Just lie back, relax, and let me do all the work ..."
Even though he had forgotten to say it in Umshoko, she seemed to understand him nevertheless, apparently calmed by the tone of his voice, if not his actual words. He felt the tension ease, and he risked slipping a second digit into her beside the first, gently widening her passage with steady, measured thrusts.
Pressing one last kiss to her breast, he shifted his body lower, feeling the prickle of the dried coarse grass through his clothing as he moved. Pushing the grass skirt aside, he positioning himself between her legs, and lowered his mouth to her ...
Her reaction was immediate, and dramatic!
At the first touch of his skilled tongue, Maleeka arched her body with a small cry, pressing herself to Jack's mouth. Encouraged, he added a third finger, slipping in and out of her more easily as she grew wetter and her passage more relaxed.
Maleeka writhed against him, her hips rising and falling in a primal cadence nearly as old as time itself. His tongue and fingers worked faster, probed deeper, attuning themselves perfectly to her rhythm, until, at last, Maleeka cried out and pressed herself even more tightly against him. He felt the little fleshy bud twitch spasmodically under his lips, and his fingers were suddenly bathed in a rush of warm wetness. After a long, shuddering moment, she finally collapsed under him, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
As Jack pulled himself up along her body to enfold her in his arms, he noted her belly and chest were slick with perspiration. He held her until her breathing slowed, and her eyes opened to gaze into his with wonder and awe, and a newly-awakened passion.
Her look told him everything he needed to know.
She was ready now.
And clearly, as thorough as her people were in educating her in her obligations to the god and in how to pleasure a man, they had never prepared her for the possibility that she, too, could achieve pleasure.
"It's time, luv," he whispered. "Time to fulfil the prophecy."
She looked into his eyes, and nodded her head matter-of-factly. This is what she had been preparing for, practically all of her life. She was on familiar ground now. She knew what she had to do.
Extricating herself from Jack's embrace, Maleeka rose from the pallet, walking toward the fire. Her back still to Jack, she unfastened her grass skirt and let it fall to the floor, leaving her completely naked save for the wreath of now-crushed island flowers around her neck. Then she removed that as well, and turned ...
Despite himself, Jack's breath caught in his throat as he gazed at her, at the compact perfection of her dusky body. His eyes moved over her with an almost physical touch, like a lover's caress. God, she really is beautiful! he thought to himself. He couldn't believe he had ever thought otherwise.
She walked slowly toward him, hips swaying enticingly in practiced seduction, like a well-rehearsed dancer, and leaned down to kiss him, not frantic and panicked as earlier, but soft and leisurely. While her lips moved upon his mouth, her hands worked at his shirt, pulling it up and out of the waist of his breeches, then, running her hands tantalizingly up his naked chest, she pushed the material from his shoulders, peeling the sleeves down his arms until she had his shirt completely off.
As she stooped to kiss his chest, she stopped and gave a small cry of surprise. She ran her fingers tentatively over the twin pitted scars revealed there, then pulled her hand away quickly, as if afraid of hurting him.
"It's all right, Maleeka -- those are old scars, long since healed. You can't hurt me by touchin' them."
She nodded her head, knowingly. "It is known that, while in human form, the god is vulnerable to the same weaknesses of the flesh as any breathing man." She lay her hand on the scars, her fingers skimming his chest. "How much happier and more powerful you will be once you are released from this mortal prison!"
He thought to argue that point with her -- that he was very much attached to his fleshly prison, and had no desire to be freed from it -- but then she brought her lips to his chest, kissing the scars gently before moving on, tasting his nipples much as he had just done hers, before moving downward, in the direction of his navel, and beyond ...
She slipped to her knees in front of him, reaching for the sash around his waist, untying and removing it. Her hands moved to the front of his breeches, and for a moment she seemed confounded by the unfamiliar fastenings, her fingers fumbling with the buttons. He was just about to reach down to help her when she finally worked it out, and the flap came open ...
... and then he was in her warm hands, and she was gently kneading him, stroking him, kissing him, running her tongue around him. He twitched, swelled, and grew hard in her hands. He hissed in pleasure as the length of him disappeared between Maleeka's lips.
He had a moment of concern, remembering her people's cannibalistic tendencies, and hoping that, with his flesh now in her mouth, she did not suddenly find herself in the mood for a little snack. He was also mightily thankful that her teeth had not been filed to points ...
But those worries were soon laid to rest as she continued to put her mouth to more benign and pleasurable use. He had to give her tutors due credit -- she had been well-taught. He had been to brothels where the ladies-for-hire had not been as adept as this virgin girl. He had a moment to wonder at a culture that would teach a young, innocent girl how to do such things, and ponder the teaching methods used -- before her mouth engulfed him again, and he lost the capacity for coherent thought. He lay back, propped up on his bent arms, closed his eyes, and let Maleeka exercise her skill ...
And skilled she was! She soon had him worked up to an almost painful state of arousal. As he felt himself rapidly approaching release, he sat up suddenly, urging her up as well. "Maleeka, luv ..." he whispered urgently, "I want ... I need to take you, now ..."
As she came willingly to his arms, he pulled her to him, devouring her mouth with his, his hands freely roaming her body, drawing her passion out of her, coaxing it to the surface until she was as aroused as he was. He leaned back slightly, dragging her along with him, drawing her onto his lap so that her thighs straddled his. He ran his hands down over her naked bottom and upper legs, raising her up slightly and positioning her so that his inflamed tip was poised at her entrance. As he pressed against her, he could feel her, warm and wet and ready for him, but resisted the urge to take her. His hands lingered at her buttocks, supporting her until she grew used to the feel of him wedged between her legs.
"Whenever you're ready, luv ... take it as slow as you need to. Remember ... we're in no hurry. No need to rush ..."
He released her buttocks, surrendering control to her, her fate now entirely in her own hands. His palms glided up her back until they rested flat against her shoulder blades. Pulling her upper body toward him, he leaned forward to nuzzle and kiss her neck, then moved his mouth to her chest, his lips and tongue travelling across her cocoa-coloured skin, pausing to savour the succulent berries of her erect nipples. Drawing one carefully into his mouth, he suckled it gently, rolling it between his lips and laving the tip with little flicks of his tongue.
Maleeka gave a little sigh of pleasure, and eased down onto him a few centimetres.
He moved on to the right breast, giving it much the same treatment as the left. While his mouth worked on her right breast, his hand rose to gently rub and tease the left, lightly pinching its tip between thumb and forefinger, long experience informing him on the correct amount of pressure to exert in order to bring pleasure, not pain.
Maleeka whimpered, and eased down another few centimetres, her fingers winding into his dreadlocks. He felt the rise and fall of her chest under his hand and mouth as her breath quickened.
With his lips still busy at her breast, Jack reached down between them, the back of his hand gliding down her belly and abdomen, until his fingers parted her moist folds, finding the sensitive nub nested therein. His thumb started gently massaging, circling, teasing ...
Maleeka moaned deep in her throat, rising up slightly then easing down again, until, with a gasp, she froze as his tip came up against her maiden barrier.
Jack fought the urge to thrust up, reminding himself with an effort that she was fragile, delicate ... inexperienced. Not one of his typical lovers, accustomed to Jack's usual rough-and-tumble style of lovemaking.
But, despite the earlier pains he'd taken to prepare her, she still was so deliciously tight, and he was so incredibly aroused ...
He redoubled his efforts at her breast and pelvis, until she was trembling on the brink of her release. He bit down, so very gently, on her nipple, and then she was shuddering, plunging off that precipice, as, with a ululating cry, she achieved her climax. The sensation of her inner walls contracting around him pushed him over the edge as well and, no longer able to restrain himself, his hips surged upwards just as she, in the throes of her rapture, thrust down ...
Jack's breath hissed through his clenched teeth as he felt her barrier give way, and he suddenly found himself buried to the hilt within her, his seed pouring into her in pulsing spasms. Maleeka cried out once, sharply, in pain, then the breath seemed to go completely out of her body, and she went limp, falling bonelessly against his chest, to lie silent and still.