Virgin Outcast: Bred to the Beast

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Authors: Fannie Tucker
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thick fingers.
    Mykal slid his hands beneath the parted fabric and moved them down the smooth skin of her back, and Kara sighed, resting her head on his broad shoulder, kissing his neck.  He pulled the dress down over her shoulders to expose her heaving breasts, and the fabric gathered at her waist.  The pale skin of her bosom shone in the moonlight filtering t hrough the forge's open walls, her nipples like circles of darkness.
    Kara gripped Mykal's curling mop of hair and pulled his head down ag ainst her chest.  W hen he took a nipple in his mouth, her back arched and she let out a groan.   His lips pressed against her skin, and he suckled the firm tip of her breast gently, rolling his tongue around it in quick circles that stirred something deep inside her.
    Kara raked her fingers through his hair, urging him on, and Mykal's hands slipped down past her waist and over the flare of her hips, then further, past her thighs.  He squeezed her calves, then gathered the hem of her feastday dress and pulled it up over her knees.  Creamy white thighs peeked out from the tops of her woolen stockings.
    Mykal's rough fingers pushed into the darkness between her legs, and she cried out as he spread her apart, callused skin against smooth virgin flesh, parting her lips to find that velvety pink skin, wet now with her juices.  With surprising delicacy, those thick fingers found the quivering bud that had become the center of all sensation, and he moved against it, teasing at first, then rubbing in smooth circles that made Kara's body tense and her eyes roll back in her head.  With his palm facing upward, he moved lower, deeper into her cleft, and one finger curled inside her, filling her tight hole with intense sensation that pulled the air out of her lungs and made her cling to his broad shoulders.
    Kara's hands glided down his neck, over the ridges of hard muscle on his back .  Mykal sucked harder at her breast, bringing a throbbing wave of pleasure that made her rake her fingernails down his back.  She bro ught her hands around his waist, and the laces of his trousers.
    S he fumbled open his pants, and Mykal shuddered as her trembling fingers brushed against the hard bulge there.  Kara's hands shook with eagerness, and she helped him pull his pants down over his waist.  His manhood fell out, as rigid as forged steel.  Her fingers closed around it, squeezing, stroking its smooth length , exploring him from the thick base in its patch of dark hair to the swollen tip that pulsed with his need .
    Mykal let out a shuddering sigh as her hand moved over him, but his whole body tensed like a beast ready to pounce, his lust driving him to the edge of madness. When he pulled her down off the workbench, Kara knew that nothing her hand could do would b e enough to sate that wild lust.  She let go of him as h e urged her down into a kneeling position.  She barely felt the bite of crushed gravel against her knees as he cupped her head in one broad palm.
    She rested her hands against the thick muscles of Mykal's thighs as he brought her forward, and she opened her mouth to his pulsing length.  Mykal groaned as he slid between her lips, and Kara inhaled his deep, musky odor, a tang of forge metal and rich loam that made her heart race.  She gripped him in her mouth and sucked hard, rubbing and massaging his shaft with her tongue.  Mykal's fingers tangled in a fistful of her golden curls, and he held her head steady as he pushed his hips forward, thrusting deep into her throat.  Kara's eyes widened, but she tightened her throat around him, taking quick little breaths through her nose, holding him as long as she dared before pushing against his thighs.
    Mykal relented for a moment, but when Kara looked up, she could see his eyes glimmering in the darkness.  He wanted more.  He needed more.
    The blacksmith's apprentice pulled her to her feet and turned her against the workbench.  Her bare breasts touched the cold, dark steel of an

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