Belly of the Beast Read online

  Perhaps it was the demons who had demanded it?

  Realizing finally that that line of thought was leading her nowhere, she went back to puzzling over the emergence of the man whose body Behsart controlled, wondering if it was possible the pleasure itself was what seemed to be weakening Behsart. Demons were evil creatures who took pleasure from pain, inflicting or receiving it. As difficult as the rituals had been for her, though, she had not suffered pain—some discomfort, more pleasure than she felt like she could bear at times—but still pleasure.

  Even though the rituals had summoned the Demons Trihorn and Sheenigan, their hosts had experienced pleasure, which meant that Behsart had. And if it had, as she thought, weakened him, what effect had it had on the great demons? Had they been less affected because they were so powerful? Or had they, because they had entered the bodies of each of their worshippers, weakened themselves?

  The thoughts occupied her until they stopped to rest mid-day. When they’d refreshed themselves, Behsart sprawled beneath the shade of a tree, watching her through drowsy, heavily lidded eyes as she removed the food from the pack and tore off a portion for each of them. She pretended to concentrate on her own meal, but she couldn’t help but notice that his gaze moved over her body hungrily and she made no attempt to block his view. When she’d finished, she stretched, and finally lay down on the grass on her back, dropping her arms onto the grass on either side of her head.

  She’d begun to drowse when she felt his presence beside her. Lazily, she opened her eyes and looked at him. His gaze locked with hers, his face taut as he grasped the robe and began to push it up her body. She lifted her hips, allowing him to push it all they way up. Catching her thighs, he parted them, kneeling between her legs and leaning forward to suckle her breasts.

  Her breath caught in her throat as she felt the heat of his mouth enfold the tight bud that tipped her breast, felt sharp desire flood through her, but she remained perfectly still, allowing him to do as he pleased.

  He was breathing heavily when he abandoned her breasts and moved down. Cupping her buttocks, he lifted her hips to his mouth and dipped his tongue into her cleft, parting the flesh with his tongue, licking her, delving deeply and running his tongue along that most sensitive flesh. Her scent seemed to drive him into a sort of madness. He moved his mouth over her hungrily, sucking and licking her until she felt the first tremors of her climax gripping her. Her gasps and moans spurred him on and he continued to suckle the bud of her clit until she was screaming his name, begging him to stop. He moved over her then, shoving his cock inside of her to the hilt, pumping his hips frantically, driving his cock into her so hard he lifted her from the ground with each thrust.

  Abruptly, another climax caught her. As her passage began to spasm around his turgid flesh, he growled, jerked and slammed into her hard, grinding into her as his seed flooded her passage.

  He collapsed on top of her, gasping for breath. Even as she felt her body float downward toward the mellow warmth of her afterglow, however, he pulled away from her. Grasping her, he rolled her onto her belly, lifted her hips until she was on her knees and then thrust into her again. She groaned, feeling her body surge upward instantly as he rammed into her with almost painful thrusts, burying himself so deeply inside her she felt as if she would split, then pulling slightly away and hammering into her again. Her body quaked, spasmed, exploded with ecstasy. The convulsing muscles dragged him over the edge with her and he cried out hoarsely, surging into her as his seed bathed her passage once more.

  When he pulled away at last, he lay back on the grass, gasping for breath. Mariel wanted nothing so much as to drift into oblivion, but she thought the demon might be at his weakest and if he was she needed to try to reach the man she believed still dwelt within that body with the demon. With an effort, she rolled onto her side and studied him with an expression of interest. "You must be a very powerful demon to have destroyed the spirit of such a powerful man," she murmured, reaching out to stroke the hard, bulging muscles of his chest and arms.

  He opened his eyes and looked at her and she saw the demon vanish from his eyes for several moments. Swallowing, she shifted closer to him. "Cavan?"

  The moment she called to the man, the demon rose once more. "This man was weak. His body is weak. It demands rest when I want to find more pleasure," Behsart muttered, almost angrily.

  Smiling with an effort, Mariel placed her palm on his chest, over his pounding heart. "The body will rest and we can find more pleasure in a little while."

  The comment didn’t seem to appease him much, but he turned thoughtful. "We lingered too long in the Temple of Trihorn. We can not reach the next temple tonight. I will take my fill of you when we make camp tonight," he said, rising abruptly and adjusting his clothes.

  Still weak in the aftermath of her explosive release, Mariel rose without objection and allowed him to place her on the horse once more. He pulled her against his chest possessively, wrapping one arm snugly about her waist when he’d mounted behind her. Mariel wasn’t certain whether the possessiveness was the demon or the man, Cavan, but she allowed herself a faint smile as she leaned trustingly against his hard chest and closed her eyes.

  Chapter Three

  Contrary to what Behsart had believed, they reached the edge of the forest before nightfall. Mariel saw a wide plane. Rising up from it in the gathering mists of evening, was the dark shape of the Temple of Hezifath, of the snake tongue.

  Instantly, her belly clenched in dread anticipation. She didn’t know if it would have been worse if she’d known what she would face here, or not, but not knowing made her heart pound painfully in her chest. Despite that, her body burgeoned with anticipation. Until only a few days ago, she hadn’t known carnal pleasure at all, but the rituals of the demons had enslaved her body to the pleasures of the flesh and no matter how much her mind shied from it, her body welcomed the possession of her body in carnal torment.

  She glanced up at Behsart uneasily. "They will be expecting us?"

  "Yes."

  His voice was grim. She could sense the reluctance in him to give up what he’d promised himself, and yet she didn’t think he dared disobey the demons more powerful that he. After a moment he seemed to come to some decision. Looping the reins of the horse around the saddle horn, he grasped her, turning her to face him and drawing her legs over his so that she sat astride his lap. Dragging her robe up, he bent her backwards over one arm and fastened his mouth over the peak of one breast, raking is teeth over the distended tip almost painfully. When it began to throb with the rush of blood into the swollen flesh, he sucked it into his mouth, tugging on it with his mouth and tongue until Mariel was gasping dizzily. Releasing it, he moved to its twin, raking that nipple with his teeth before he pulled it into his mouth. As he sucked her, he reached between her legs, parting the flesh of her sex and thrusting a finger deeply inside of her, spreading the creamy moisture that had gathered there.

  She saw when he released her nipple that he’d pulled his cock from his loincloth. It stood stiffly erect, pulsing. Grasping her around the waist, he lifted her up and speared her flesh with his hardened member, bearing down on her until he’d forced his cock past the resistant flesh of her passage and buried himself to the root inside of her.

  Grasping her manacled wrists, he looped her arms around his neck and wrapped one arm around her hips, pulling her tightly against his belly, shifting slightly and grinding into her and drawing a low moan from her throat. Taking the reins once more, he kicked the horse into a gallop.

  The bounding motion of the horse beneath them bounced Mariel upward so that his turgid cock slipped almost completely from her body, then slammed her down against him, impaling her on his cock, before bouncing her upward again. Despite the painful depth of his possession and the brutal pace with which his hard flesh was rammed repeatedly into her body, heat flashed through her with his first ramming thrust, soaking her passage so that her body slipped more easily over his erection. It spiraled upwar
d rapidly, until she was gasping and shaking with impending orgasm.

  Her belly clenched around him as the muscles began to convulse with release. The continuous, rapid pounding of his cock drove her to the edge of darkness, forcing her body to convulse on and on in release without cease or even a lessening. She was near to weeping when she felt his cock jerk inside of her and begin to spasm as he found his own release.

  When his own body had ceased to convulse with his climax, he slowed the horse and finally brought it to a stop. Quivering, only dimly aware of her surroundings, Mariel gasped as his spent flesh finally slipped from hers and she slumped against him, resting her forehead on his chest as she fought to catch her breath.

  Her breathing had barely returned to normal when he grasped her hips and lifted her and she felt his hardened cock probing her once more, thrusting deeply inside of her as he pulled her tightly against him again. Wearily, she lifted her head to look at him, feeling her passage clench around him as he urged the horse forward once more into a fast walk that moved her gently along his turgid length, then a jog, that began to jounce her a little harder, and finally a gallop.

  By the time he’d urged the horse into a gallop, her body was already high on the scale to completion. Within moments, the ramming motions of his cock inside her set off another wave of bliss.

  His body climbed slower toward completion the second time. Hers convulsed in blinding rapture until she blacked out for many moments. Slowly awareness began to drift back into her mind. Still, she lay limply against him, completely spent, unable to lift her head for some time. When she finally managed to pull away and look around, she discovered that they’d reached the outskirts of the tiny village that dwelt in the shadow of the Temple. She stiffened, trying to move away.

  His arm tightened, holding her against him. "You are mine," he growled into her ear.

  As she looked up at him in surprise, she felt his cock harden inside of her again. He set the horse to a trot. The animal’s gait jogged her up and down on his cock in a quick, hard rhythm that stirred the ashes of her passion. Aware that the curious were glancing at them as they passed, she tried to hold the sensations at bay, but they quickly overwhelmed her, driving her upward toward her peak. She bit down on his shoulder to keep from crying out as her body began to convulse once more in spasms of pleasure.

  She was hardly aware of the cessation of movement until Behsart lifted her arms from around his neck and loosened his grip on her, allowing her to slide from him. She looked around then and discovered he’d reined the horse to a halt at the foot of the temple steps.

  Without a word, he adjusted his clothing and climbed down, dragging her off with him and settling her on her feet. When he’d tossed the reins to a waiting priest, he led her up to the piazza. They were halfway up the stairs before the priests began to pound the gong to call the worshippers of the Demon Hezifath.

  She saw when she reached the piazza that the priests who waited looked both worried and confused. Behsart ignored them, passing the chain he used to lead her to the High Priest and stepping to one side.

  Collecting himself after a moment, the High Priest began the ritual of display.

  Mariel was still so dazed from their coupling she merely stumbled after them as they led her across the piazza. Finally, almost with a sense of relief, she saw that they had turned to enter the temple.

  Mariel had thought she knew what to expect here, at least, if she still had no idea of what the Demon Hezifath would demand of her. She found that she was wrong. Instead of taking her to the bathing chamber, they took her to a small chamber, empty save for a narrow cot, a pitcher of water, and a chamber pot for her needs, and locked her inside.

  At first, Mariel was too exhausted from her coupling with Behsart and the hard, multiple orgasms he’d driven her to to be greatly disturbed by the difference in her reception at this temple to what she’d come to expect. Bathing herself, she drank a little of the water and collapsed on the narrow bunk, falling asleep almost instantly.

  She was awakened sometime later by a scraping noise. When she sat up, she saw that a tray of food had been set inside the door. Hungry from days of travel, little food, and the expenditure of energy in fear and the pleasure that had been wrung from her body again and again, she retrieved the tray, sat on the bed and ate.

  She began to wonder why she’d been placed in the chamber, whether it was because she had arrived before they were ready to perform the ritual, or if it was because they had been in no doubt that Behsart had sampled the bride of the seven demons of Daeksould.

  Slowly, fear began to creep inside of her as the thought took hold that that was exactly the case and that her ‘pilgrimage’ would be cut short and she would be sent directly to Valdamer’s castle and put to death. Rising, she set the tray with the half eaten food by the door and began to pace the small chamber, wondering if there was any hope of escape if that was to be the case.

  Behsart had reached a point where he could not seem to resist his desire for her flesh, but what little power that might give her over him, if any, would be of no use to her if the demons were angered with him and someone else was sent to take her to Valdamer Castle. She stood no chance of escaping if that was the case.

  It occurred to her after a while that she hadn’t even tried the door to see if it was locked. She knew it must be, but she moved to it and tried it anyway. Without much surprise, but with a great deal of disappointment, she found that it was.

  Moving away from the door, she began to pace once more, glancing now and then at the tray. Finally, she settled to watching the door, deciding when it opened, if only one priest stood there, she would see if she could catch him off guard and escape.

  She would’ve felt better for her chances if she were closer to the outer door to the temple, but she realized fairly quickly that her chances were virtually nil any way she looked at it. As long as she had felt that she had some chance of coaxing Behsart into lowering his guard, she had thought patience the wisest course. Any attempt to escape would put him on guard and make another attempt useless. She had to wait until the most opportune moment.

  Behsart had said that if she pleased the seven demons they might consider allowing her to keep her life. She didn’t really believe that in her heart of hearts, but she had clung to the hope that it was possible, that if she failed to escape she might still have a chance for life.

  If, as she suspected, she had displeased them, she thought her chances less than nothing.

  Despite her fear, or perhaps because of it, exhaustion finally got the better of her once she’d stopped pacing the room and settled to watch the door, but it was the sound of the door opening that woke her. She surged to her feet at once, swaying slightly with the grogginess of sleep. Two priests entered. Ignoring the tray, they seized her and dragged her from the room, down the long corridor that led to the bathing chamber.

  She had already learned that trying to fight them was useless and yet she could not command herself not to. She struggled as they forced her down on a stone bench beside the pool. They held her, anointing her body with oils and scraping her skin until she throbbed all over. When they had bathed her, they led her from the pool and dried her.

  As they left the chamber, they turned and followed the steps downward to the offering room. Below, she could hear the priests chanting and an almost hissing noise as they shuffled their feet across the stone floor. Mariel’s dread grew with each step. As relieved as she was that it seemed that they would perform the offering anyway, she feared what she would have to face in the chamber. It might have frightened her less if the ritual had been the same each time, but each time it differed in every respect except that the demon, she knew, would whip his followers into a frenzy of carnality and that they would wring pleasure from her body until they’d sapped her of all strength.

  Hezifath was the demon of the snake tongue. Her mind refused to supply her with how he might manifest himself in his followers.

  As in the othe
r temples, she saw that a stone altar stood in the center of the chamber. Instead of leading her to it, however, she was seized by the two priests who had walked beside her as they descended the stairs. Dragging her beyond the altar, they forced her down on the stone floor in the center of a circle made up of different colored stones so that it looked like the eye of a serpent. The stone was cold beneath her and she began to shiver as they knelt and removed the manacles that bound her wrists together.

  Each man took one of her arms and pulled it straight out from her body, manacling her directly to the stone floor. They moved down her then. A third man approached, carrying a wedge shaped stone, and knelt beside her hips. The two who were binding her for the offering to Hezifath lifted her hips. The wedge was pushed beneath her buttocks. When she was lowered once more, she realized that it had curled her hips upward. Catching her legs then, they bent them at the knees and spread her legs wide, chaining her ankles to the floor.

  She lay staring up at the ceiling, shivering from dread and the cold, listening to her heart hammering in her ears and the breath rasping from her chest in frightened gasps.

  The High Priest came to stand between her legs. He lifted his arms. "Come, followers of the Demon Hezifath, of the snake tongue—pay homage to his bride."

  As the priests advanced toward the circle where she had been chained, she saw they wore the hooded headdress of the demon Hezifath. There bodies were painted in a pattern that made their skin appear as serpent’s skin. They wore no more than a cup over their genitals.

  When they reached the outer ring of the circle, they began to chant and dance in a circle around her, writhing, moving their arms sinuously. After a time, the chanting began to sound more like the hissing of serpents than sounds from human throats. As she watched, they knelt to the floor and then lay upon their bellies, moving around her with the sinuous, undulating movements of serpents, resembling huge snakes.