Chapter 1: Introduction
In the trackless wastes of the desert, under the unforgiving sun, Karela's camp stirred to life as dawn broke. The air was already thick with heat, shimmering like a mirage above the endless dunes. Karela, the noblewoman, lay beneath a thin silk sheet, her fiery red hair splayed across the pillow, a stark contrast to the stark white linen. Her blue eyes fluttered open, reflecting the harsh light of the new day. She cursed under her breath, the heat already making her irritable.
"Damn this desert," she muttered, sitting up and throwing off the sheet. Her large, firm breasts heaved with the effort, nipples already hard from the morning chill. She was used to the luxuries of her estate, not this godsforsaken wasteland. She was used to waking up in a luxurious bed with a small army of servants catering to her every whim, not rousing herself from a bedraggled sleeping roll on her own. Karela rose to her feet, groaning with stiffness that belied her usual grace. The gossamer silk shirt and pants she wore were coated with sweat and sticking to her pale skin in such a way that would have scandalized even the most open-minded members of the court. Karela smirked, imagining the men’s pants tightening as she passed and more than a few of the women’s skirts dampening.
She had always known the power of her body, the way it could make men beg and women pine. It was a weapon she wielded with skill and precision, a tool to keep her enemies off balance, her allies devoted, and herself satisfied. But here, in this godsforsaken desert, there was no one to impress, no one to manipulate. Just her, the sand, and the relentless sun.
More out of habit than anything, Karela stuck her head out of the tent and looked around, hoping to see her servants making their way toward her at all speed. Instead, all she saw was the accursed sand, seemingly stretching along forever. Karela swore and made to return to her bedroll when she spotted something. A dark spot on the horizon, drawing closer. She squinted, uncertain if it was a member of her retinue or a hallucination then shrugged and returned to her tent. If it was one of her servants, then she would be returned home soon and if it was not, then her wait would continue. Either way, there was no need to continue to expose her delicate skin to this damnable sun.
Instead, she stretched out on her bedroll, and closed her eyes, imagining herself sinking into the cold embrace of a bath.
She was interrupted by the sound of footsteps outside, and the unmistakable voice of a man. Karela's eyes snapped open, her heart pounding in her chest. She grabbed a dagger from her belt and rushed out of the tent.
Standing there, bathed in the harsh light of the desert sun, was a man. Not one of her servants, but a stranger. A barbarian, by the look of him. Tall, muscular, with shoulder-length black hair and blue eyes that seemed to pierce right through her. He was wrapped in a black cloak that concealed everything beneath his head.
“I am Karela, daughter of Lord Antioch of House Valtoria, Mistress of the Ivory Tower.”
The man grunted then said, “I am Conan, a Cimmerian.”
This drew a derisive snort from Karela. She knew little of Cimmeria save that it was a cold, distant land populated by barbarians who were little more sophisticated than the camel who stood beside the youth. That explained his failure to bow to her, as was the custom. She supposed she should be impressed that he knew how to speak. Still, perhaps he could prove useful.
“I was separated from my entourage,” Karela said, speaking more slowly and with far greater annunciation than she usually used to ensure the barbar understood her meaning, “During last night’s sandstorm. Have you seen them?”
Conan glowered at her but said nothing. The woman’s beauty had his hot northern blood racing while her arrogance and condensation roused his temper. Like many in the southern lands, she seemed to think that the Cimmerians were little more than hill apes, a belief that had resulted in more than a few split heads. But if he played his cards right, there was a much more pleasurable way to deal with this one.
Karela felt her temper flare as the man continued to stare at her in silence. “Did you not understand me, barbarian? Perhaps I should sign my meaning to you? Or draw pictures in this blasted sand?”
After a long moment, he nodded to his left and said, “I saw them. They are less than an hour from here.”
Karela clapped her hands in delight, her anger dissipating at the thought of returning home to her army of servants, a long, cold bath, and iced wine.
“Excellent. Load my things onto the animals and take me to them at once.”
Conan’s lips twitched into a smirk for an instant as he saw an opportunity. “I am a mercenary. I do not work for free.”
Karela waved a hand dismissively. “Of course, of course. When I reunite with my company, I shall see your camel groaning under the weight of gold and jewels.”
A grin cracked Conan’s weathered face. He had taken more than enough women to his bed to know what was on Karela’s mind. Noble or peasant, civilized or barbarian, it seemed that some things were universal. Too, he would enjoy taking showing this arrogant hussy that the gap between her and the women of his homeland was far smaller than she thought. Noble or not, he could please them all and leave them begging for more.
“Neither gold nor jewels are the prize I seek.”
A flush rose to Karela’s cheeks as the implication sank in.
“What makes you think I would let a filthy, godless son of a pig touch me? How dare you even consider that?!”
“I dare,” Conan said quietly, “Because I know something of women.”
Karela snorted. “Given your youth, I imagine your knowledge consists wholly of what it was like to suck your mother’s tit.”
Conan cast his cloak to the ground and Karela could not stop the gasp that rose to her throat. Beneath his cloak, the barbarian was naked save for a loincloth made of animal skin that did little to conceal his erection. Conan’s skin was bronzed by the sun and rippling with muscle. He was covered in scars, a far cry from the flawless skin of the noblemen who had graced her bed but certainly appealing in its own way.
Karela's eyes widened as she took in the sight of him, her mouth suddenly dry. She had never seen a man so... primal before. So unashamedly masculine. She felt a heat begin to build between her legs, a warmth that had nothing to do with the desert sun. She was trying to maintain her composure, her haughty demeanor, but it was becoming increasingly difficult with each passing second.
Still, noblewomen did not carouse with barbars. Or if they did, they did it behind closed doors.
Sensing her hesitation, Conan said, “The road I have traveled has been long and lacking in women. Because of that, I propose a wager, Karela.”
“Go on.”
“If I can please you, you will in turn seek to please me. If I fail, I will take you to your servants, at which point you may do with me as you will.”
The noblewoman forced herself to take several deep, calming breaths. Where was the harm? The barbar was handsome enough, despite his rough features and crude manners. He doubtlessly overestimated his prowess with women, for surely he had never made love to a noblewoman before. If he had taken any women at all, they had surely consisted wholly of the screeching, barbarous hellcats of Cimmeria, who were said to be more beast than human. Yes. There would be great pleasure in taking him and showing him how little he knew of the wider world. And when he failed to please her, she could send him on his way, humbled and humiliated, likely with a whipping to remember her by.
“Very well, barbarian,” she said imperiously. “I will pay your price. Come into my tent, out of this damnable sun.” Karela led the way, her hips swaying deliberately, her bare feet sinking into the hot sand. Conan followed, his eyes fixed on the curve of her ass, his cock throbbing in anticipation. She could feel his gaze on her, could practically hear the thoughts running through his mind, and it sent a thrill of power coursing through her veins. She was still in control here, still the one calling the shots.
Karela ran her hands over her breasts, grinning as she heard Conan’s breath caught in his throat.
“Turn your back, barbar,” she ordered. “And I’ll show you-”
She broke off with a shriek as Conan lunged forward, his thick fingers grasping at the hem of her silk shirt. With a sharp wrench, he tore it in half down the middle, causing her lightly sunburned breasts to spring free. Karela gaped, mouthing in astonishment. No one, not even the infamous Lord Hepburn had dared to be anywhere near that rough with her. Before she could find her voice, Conan took her in his arms,
“Enough of your teasing, wench,” Conan growled as he rained kisses on her face, neck, and breasts. “I want you and I want you now.”
Despite the shock and pleasure coursing through her, Karela forced herself to retain her composure. It wouldn’t do to lose control in front of a mere commoner, much less a barbarian.
That thought spurred her to action. She grabbed Conan’s thick wrists and forced them behind his back, causing him to grunt in surprise. He didn’t fight her, instead smirking as if amused by her sudden display of defiance. Karela smiled grimly, her mind racing. She needed to regain the upper hand, to remind this brute who was in charge here. She pushed him roughly towards the bedroll, his muscular body stumbling slightly before he recovered. “On your knees, barbarian,” she commanded, her voice as hard as steel.
Conan complied, his eyes burning with eagerness. Her fingers trembling slightly, Karela slipped out of her pants, revealing her freshly shaved entrance. "You say you know something of women, barbar. Now is a chance to demonstrate your talents." She spread her legs, allowing him a clear view of her glistening pussy. Conan's nostrils flared, taking in her scent, his cock throbbing with anticipation. He reached out, his calloused hands gripping her thighs, thumbs brushing against her wet folds. Karela gasped, her grip on his wrists tightening as he began to stroke her, his touch firm yet gentle.
Fuck, but he knew what he was doing. Karela bit her lip, trying to maintain her composure as pleasure coursed through her. She could feel her self-control slipping away, her body responding to his touch like a well-tuned instrument.
But she refused to give in so easily. She would not be just another conquest for this barbarian. She needed to assert her dominance, to remind him who was in charge.
Karela released Conan's wrists and grabbed a fistful of his dark hair, yanking his head back. Their eyes met, hers blazing with defiance, his filled with a challenge. "You think you can make me beg, barbar?" she hissed.
Conan's lips curled into a smirk. "I know I can."
Karela scoffed, pushing his head down between her legs.
"We'll see about that, barbar." She could feel his laughter rumbling against her inner thighs as he complied, his mouth finding her clit almost instantly. His tongue was hot and firm, flicking against her in ways that made her gasp and squirm. She had had her share of lovers, but none had ever been quite so... thorough.
Conan was relentless, his tongue exploring every inch of her, his lips sucking and nipping at her sensitive flesh.
Karela's grip on his hair tightened, her nails digging into his scalp as she tried to hold on, to maintain some semblance of control. But the pleasure was too intense, too overwhelming. She could feel her resistance crumbling, her body betraying her as it arched against his mouth, seeking more, demanding more.
"Fuck, Conan," she gasped, her voice ragged. "Fuck, you're good at this."
Conan chuckled, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through her.
"I told you, Karela. I know something of women." He looked up at her, his blue eyes gleaming with primal hunger. "Now, it's time for you to show me what you've got."
Karela released his hair, her body still trembling from the intensity of her orgasm. She took a deep breath, steeled herself, and pushed him onto his back. Conan went willingly, his eyes never leaving hers. She straddled him, her hands on his chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath her fingertips.
His cock was a rigid column pressing against her thigh, and she could feel the heat radiating from it. She leaned down, her lips brushing against his ear, her voice a low purr. "You think you can handle me, barbar?" she whispered.
Conan's hands gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her soft flesh. "I know I can," he growled. "Now, stop talking and show me what you've got."
Karela smirked, her eyes gleaming with mischief. She reached between them, her fingers wrapping around his thick shaft.
Conan groaned, his eyes fluttering closed as she began to stroke him, her grip firm and steady. She could feel the pulse of his heartbeat against her palm, the hot, velvet smoothness of his skin. She pumped him slowly, enjoying the way his body tensed and relaxed with each movement of her hand.
She released his cock from her grip, causing him to groan in protest. But before he could complain, she had shifted her position, her wet pussy hovering just above his throbbing shaft. She looked down at him, her blue eyes filled with a mix of defiance and desire. "Ready to get fucked, Conan?"
Conan's response was a low growl, his hands tightening on her hips. "You talk too much, woman. Show me what you've got." Karela's voice was a low, sultry challenge. She could feel Conan's cock throbbing against her, eager and ready. She wanted to draw this out, to make him beg for it, but her own desire was a raging inferno, threatening to consume her. She needed him inside her, filling her, fucking her.
Conan's hands on her hips tightened, his fingers digging into her soft flesh. His eyes, a stormy blue, met hers, and she could see the hunger, the primal need reflected in them. "You want it, don't you, Karela?" he growled.
Before she could answer, he thrust upward, burying his cock deep inside her. Karela's head fell back, a moan escaping her lips as she felt him fill her. Conan's hands continued to grip her hips tightly, his fingers leaving bruises. His thrusts were powerful, each one bringing him deeper inside her. Karela could feel herself being stretched, becoming one with him.
Each thrust sent pleasure zinging through her, her nerve endings screaming with excitement. She matched his rhythm, meeting him thrust for thrust, the slap of flesh on flesh echoing in the silence of the desert.
She writhed against him, her wetness coating his cock as he plunged into her over and over again, each thrust driving her closer and closer to the edge of oblivion. Karela threw her head back, her long red hair cascading down her back in a fiery wave as she cried out his name.
"Conan, yes, oh fuck yes!"
He grunted in response, his pace quickening as he felt her on the verge of release. "Cum inside me, Conan. Fill me with your barbarian seed!" Karela screamed, her nails digging into Conan's chest. The Cimmerian growled, his pace intensifying, his balls slapping against her ass with each powerful thrust. He could feel his orgasm building, his cock swelling inside her.
"Fuck, Karela, you feel so fucking good," he grunted, his voice ragged.
"So do you," she gasped.
Conan's hands moved from her hips to her ass, squeezing and spreading her cheeks as he drove into her. They screamed together as they came, their bodies convulsing with the force of their release. Karela collapsed onto Conan's chest, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She could feel his heart pounding against her, his cock still twitching inside her as his hot cum dribbled out.
As she pushed herself off him, Conan spoke. "How does the Mistress of the Ivory Tower feel about taking a cock from behind?"
Karela froze, her mind racing.
She had never been taken from behind, never allowed a man to enter her in such a... primitive way. It was a position reserved for whores and slaves, not noblewomen like her. Yet, as she looked into Conan's eyes, she saw no mockery, no disrespect. Only a raw, primal hunger that made her heart pound and her pussy throb.
She took a deep breath, her decision made. "I've never...I've never done it before but I've never fucked a barbarian before either." A smile split her face. "And I've certainly enjoyed that thus far."
Karela turned her back on him and lowered herself until she was on all fours, trembling slightly with a combination of anticipation and fear.
“There’s some lube in my pack,” she said quietly. “I can help you find it if-”
Karela broke off as she heard Conan rummaging through her belongings with all the grace of a bull elephant. A moment later she heard him grunt in satisfaction.
She jumped slightly as she felt a warm, viscous liquid being poured onto her anus. Once the initial shock had passed, Karela moaned slightly. It felt strange but deliciously sordid. And she knew the best was yet to come.
When Conan's fingers brushed against her sensitive flesh, she couldn't help but moan softly, her body tingling with pleasure. The feeling was strange since no one had ever touched her like this before, but it felt utterly liberating, allowing herself to be vulnerable to this rugged, uncivilized man.
Conan's calloused hands explored Karela's curves, kneading her ass and thighs while sliding his fingers between her legs. His other hand worked the liquid around her tight entrance, coaxing it open with gentle pressure.
“It will hurt,” he said quietly, “but it will feel amazing.”
Karela pushed her fear down, forcing herself to focus on the pleasure that was about to be had. Hers and his. “Are you going to talk all day, Conan? Or are you fuck me in the ass?”
In response, Conan placed his hands on her hips, pointed his cock at Karela's quivering hole and pushed forward.
Karela gasped, her fingers digging into the sand as she felt the pressure build. She was so tight, and Conan was so big. She felt like she was being torn apart, but the pleasure was indescribable.
“Fuck, Conan,” she panted, “You're so big. It hurts, but it feels so fucking good.”
Conan grunted, his grip tightening on her hips as he slowly inched his way inside her. “Take it, Karela. Take my cock in your ass.”
The pain was intense, but so was the pleasure.
Karela could feel every vein, every ridge of Conan's massive cock as he slowly slid into her tight ass. She pushed back against him, wanting to take him deeper, wanting to feel every inch of him inside her. Conan groaned, his fingers digging into her hips as he began to move, his thrusts slow and steady.
"Fuck, Karela," he grunted, "Your ass is so fucking tight. I could cum just from this."
Karela moaned, her fingers clawing at the sand as she felt him move inside her. "Do it, Conan. Cum in my ass. I want to feel it. I want to feel you fill me up, you dirty barbarian," Karela panted, her voice ragged with desire. Conan growled, his grip on her hips tightening as he began to fuck her in earnest, his cock pistoning in and out of her tight ass. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the tent, mingling with their moans and grunts.
His grip on her hips was almost painful, his fingers digging into her soft flesh as he powered into her, his cock stretching her tight ass with each thrust.
Karela could only moan in response, her body consumed by the intense pleasure that threatened to overwhelm her. She had never felt anything like this before, had never imagined that it was possible to feel so completely filled, so utterly taken. She could feel every inch of Conan's massive cock as it slid in and out of her, the friction sending sparks of pleasure shooting through her.
"Harder, Conan," she gasped, her voice ragged. "Faster."
Karela demanded, her voice a ragged whisper. "Fuck me harder, Conan. Make me scream."
Conan growled, his pace quickening. His hips slammed against her ass, each thrust sending jolts of pleasure-pain through her. Karela's fingers curled into fists, her nails digging into her palms as she struggled to maintain her composure. She could feel her orgasm building, the pressure growing with each thrust.
"Oh fuck, Conan. I'm close. I'm so fucking close." Karela panted, her voice barely recognizable.
"I can't... I can't hold on much longer, Conan. I'm going to-"
Conan's fingers found her clit, rubbing it in tight circles as he continued to pound into her. "Cum for me, Karela," he growled. "Cum on my cock."
And she did. Karela screamed, her body convulsing as her orgasm tore through her. Conan could feel her muscles clenching around him, milking him, and it was enough to send him over the edge. He groaned, his cock pulsing as he filled her ass with his hot cum.
She could feel it, each spurt painting her insides, marking her as his. When he finally finished, he pulled out slowly, his cock glistening with their combined juices. Karela collapsed onto the bedroll, her body spent and shaking. Conan fell beside her, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.
“Holy fuck, Conan,” Karela panted, her voice hoarse. “That was... that was...”
Unable to find the words she was looking for, Karela's eyes sought the barbarian's cock. It was still hard and coated from end to end with cum.
The sight of it made Karela's mouth water. She wanted to taste him, to swallow him whole.
"Conan," she said, her voice low and sultry as she crawled towards him. "I want to suck your cock."
Conan watched her, his eyes darkening with lust. "You want to swallow my cum, wench?"
Karela nodded, her blue eyes filled with desire. "Every fucking drop," she said, her voice a low purr.
She dropped to her knees and ran her tongue along its length, tasting the remnants of their shared pleasure. Conan groaned, his hips bucking slightly, encouraging her.
Karela opened her mouth wide, taking him in as far as she could. She could feel him hitting the back of her throat, making her gag slightly. She relaxed her muscles, taking him deeper, her nose pressing against his abdomen. She could feel his hands in her hair, guiding her, urging her on.
The taste
of him was intoxicating, a mixture of sweat, cum, and the faint tang of her own ass. She moaned around his cock, the vibrations making him groan in response. She could feel him swelling in her mouth, growing harder with each stroke of her tongue.
"Fuck, Karela," Conan hissed, his hips jerking as she took him deep. "Keep doing that and I'm going to cum down your throat."
Karela hummed in response, her eyes gleaming with mischief. She wanted to taste him, to swallow every drop of his seed.
She wanted to make him cum so hard he'd see stars. Karela looked up at Conan, her blue eyes filled with a hunger that matched his own. Unbidden, she reached up and cupped his balls, cupping and squeezing them in time with the motions of her mouth and tongue.
Conan groaned, his fingers tightening in her hair, encouraging her to keep going. She could feel his cock throbbing, could taste the first hints of his pre-cum leaking onto her tongue.
Eager for her reward, Karela increased her pace, her head bobbing up and down as she sucked him hard and fast. Her hands were busy too, one pumping the base of his cock, the other cupping and squeezing his balls. Conan's breathing grew ragged, his groans filling the tent and spurring her on.
He was right on the edge, his balls tightening, ready to explode. His grip on her hair tightened, his hips bucking as he began to fuck her mouth.
Karela's eyes watered as he hit the back of her throat, but she didn't pull away. She wanted this, wanted to feel him cumming, wanted to taste him. She reached up, her fingers wrapping around the base of his cock, squeezing as she sucked him hard.
An instant later,
Conan's cock throbbed, and he was coming, spurting hot cum into her mouth. Karela moaned, swallowing quickly, not wanting to waste a single drop. She could feel it sliding down her throat, warm and salty, as she continued to suck and lick, drawing out every last bit of his orgasm.
Conan's grip on her hair relaxed, his body slumping back onto the bedroll. Karela released his cock with a final lick, her eyes gleaming up at him. "Delicious," she purred.
The barbarian grinned and opened his mouth to speak then stopped, his head tilted slightly.
"I hear voices," he said, snatching up his sword and making for the entrance to the tent, seemingly wholly unconcerned by the fact that he was stark naked.
Karela, still on her knees, her mouth glistening with his cum, looked up at him, her brow furrowed. Her jaw dropped as she realized who the voices must belong to.
"Conan, wait-"
She didn't expect him to stop but he did, though his muscles remained tensed.
"It must be my retinue. You did say they were less than a hour away."
Conan scowled then shrugged, some of the tension leaving his body. "Aye. It must have slipped my mind."
Karela grinned. "I can understand that. You were certainly-"
She broke off as she looked down at her naked body, her breasts gleaming with the barbarian's cum.
"Fuck! I can't let them see me like this! Get dressed, quickly!"
Karela hissed, snatching up her clothes and throwing Conan's at him. He caught them, a smirk playing on his lips as he watched her hurriedly pull on her garments.
Karela shot him a grateful look, her heart pounding in her chest. She couldn't let her servants see her like this, covered in sweat and cum, her hair a wild tangle around her shoulders. She was the Mistress of the Ivory Tower, for fuck's sake.
She had a reputation to uphold, a certain decorum to maintain. And here she was, scrambling to dress like a common whore, all because she'd let a barbarian fuck her senseless.
Conan, meanwhile, seemed unperturbed by the impending arrival of her retinue. He was dressed in record time, his loincloth in place. Karela felt a twinge of disappointment as his cock vanished from view then forced herself to focus.
"How do I look," she asked, spreading her arms wide and turning slowly on the spot.
Conan's gaze raked over her, taking in the curve of her breasts, the flare of her hips, the long, lean lines of her legs. He was a barbarian, not a poet, but even he could appreciate the sight before him.
"Like a fucking goddess," he rumbled, his voice thick with desire. Karela rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help the smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth. She had never been one to shy away from admiration, especially when it came from a man like Conan.
"Flatterer," she said, her voice soft. "Just let me do the talking."
So saying, she swept out of the tent, blinking in the harsh sunlight.
Conan followed, his eyes scanning the horizon, his hand resting casually on the pommel of his sword. Karela's retinue came into view a moment later, a dozen or so armed men and women on horseback, their armor glinting in the sun. They reined in as they approached, their eyes widening as they took in Karela's disheveled appearance.
"Mistress Karela," the leader, a middle-aged woman named Lyra, said, her voice tight. "We've been searching for you. We feared the worst."
Karela forced a smile, her heart pounding in her chest.
"I'm fine, Lyra. As you can see, I've found... assistance." She gestured to Conan, who stood at her side, his expression unreadable. "This is Conan, a mercenary"
Lyra's eyes narrowed as she took in the barbarian's appearance, her gaze lingering on the sword at his side. "A mercenary?" she asked, her voice dripping with contempt. "Has this honorless sellsword violated your honor in any way?" Lyra asked, her eyes flashing with anger. Karela felt a spark of annoyance at the implication, but before she could respond, Conan stepped forward, his voice a low growl.
"I have not harmed the lady, nor would I ever think to do so. She is safe with me." His hand tightened on the pommel of his sword, a silent threat. Lyra's eyes narrowed, but she said nothing more.
"I appreciate your concern, Lyra, but it is unnecessary," Karela said in a tone that brooked no argument. "Despite his rough appearance, Conan has proven himself to be the perfect gentleman."
Karela's tone was light, but there was a warning in her eyes. Lyra nodded, her eyes flicking between Karela and Conan, before addressing her mistress.
"Your father has sent a message, Mistress. He requires your presence at the keep immediately. A matter of great importance has arisen."
Karela's expression darkened. Her father was many things, but he was not known for his patience. She could only imagine the wrath that awaited her if she did not return posthaste.
"Very well," she said, turning to Conan. "I must return to the keep.
But I haven't forgotten our deal, Conan," Karela said, her voice low and sultry. She leaned in close, her breath hot on his ear. "I've never been fucked from behind while riding a horse. Care to introduce me to that particular pleasure?"
Conan's eyes darkened, his cock twitching at the thought. "You're a dirty little noblewoman, aren't you, Karela?" he growled, his voice heavy with desire.
Karela's response was a low, throaty laugh. "Only with you, Conan.
Now, help me onto my horse. I want to feel you behind me, your cock hard and ready."
Conan's hand was at the small of her back, guiding her as she mounted her steed. He swung up behind her, his powerful thighs bracketing hers. Karela could feel his cock, already hard and eager, pressing against her ass. She wiggled slightly, eliciting a low growl from Conan.
"Keep on like that and I'll fuck you again right here and now," he warned, his voice a low rumble.
Karela laughed, the sound throaty and inviting.
"Promises, promises," she teased, settling herself more firmly against Conan's lap. She could feel his cock throbbing against her ass, and it sent a jolt of electricity straight to her core. She shifted again, grinding against him, and was rewarded with a sharp intake of breath from the Cimmerian.
"Fuck, Karela," Conan hissed, his hands tightening on her hips. "You're playing with fire."
"And you're playing with wood," she countered, reaching back to grasp his cock through his loincloth. She could feel it, hot and hard, pulsing with life.
She gave it a gentle squeeze, making Conan groan. "You know, I've never fucked on a horse before," she mused, her voice laced with mischief. "Think you can handle it, Conan?"
Conan's response was to grind his hips against her, his cock sliding along the crack of her ass. "I can handle anything you throw at me, little noblewoman," he growled. "Anything."
Karela grinned, her pussy throbbing with anticipation. She released his cock and reached under her dress, pushing her panties aside to expose her wet slit.
She bucked against him, her pussy lips brushing against his cock, coating it with her juices. Conan groaned, his grip on her hips tightening as he fought the urge to plunge into her right then and there.
"You're fucking teasing me, Karela," he growled, his voice ragged with desire.
Karela merely laughed, a low, sultry sound that sent shivers down Conan's spine. "All in good time, Conan. First, I want to feel you inside me.
I want to feel your cock stretching my pussy, filling me up completely. I want to feel you fucking me hard and fast, making me scream your name."
Conan's eyes darkened, his grip on her hips tightening. "You want it rough, little noblewoman? You want me to fuck you like the whore you are?"
Karela's breath hitched, her pussy clamping down at his words. "Yes," she hissed. "I want you to fuck me like a whore. I want you to use me, Conan. I want you to fuck me so hard that I can't walk straight when we reach the keep." Karela's voice was a low, husky whisper, her eyes gleaming with desire. Conan's cock throbbed at her words, pressing urgently against her ass. He could feel her heat, her wetness, and it took every ounce of his self-control not to tear off her dress and impale her then and there.
Conan's hands moved to Karela's breasts, kneading the firm flesh through the thin fabric of her dress. He could feel her nipples hardening, pressing against his palms.
Karela moaned, grinding her ass against his cock, her pussy dripping with anticipation. Conan's fingers found the hem of her dress, pulling it up to expose her thighs, her ass, her pussy. He could see her, glistening and ready, and it made his mouth water.
"Lean forward, Karela," he growled, his voice thick with desire. She complied, her hands gripping the saddle horn tightly. Conan lifted her dress, exposing her fully to the cool air and his hungry gaze. He could see her pussy, pink and slick, and he knew he couldn't wait any longer.
He reached down, guiding his cock to her entrance. He felt her tense, her body preparing for him, and he pushed forward, his cock sliding into her wet heat.
"Fuck, Conan," Karela gasped, her fingers tightening on the saddle horn. "You're so big."
Conan grunted, his hands gripping her hips as he began to move, pulling her back onto his cock as he thrust forward. "Take it, Karela. Take my cock like a good little noblewoman."
Karela moaned, her body adjusting to his size.
She could feel every ridge, every vein of his cock as it slid in and out of her pussy. She pushed back against him, meeting his thrusts, eager to take him deeper. Conan grunted, his fingers digging into her hips as he increased his pace, fucking her harder, faster.
"Gods, Karela," he growled, "Your pussy is so fucking tight. It's like a vice around my cock."
Karela could only moan in response, her body consumed by the pleasure that coursed through her.
She was dimly aware of the horse's gait, the rhythmic motion adding to the sensation of Conan's cock sliding in and out of her. She could feel every inch of him, every ridge and vein, as he filled her completely.
Conan's hands moved from her hips to her breasts, squeezing and kneading the firm flesh. He pinched her nipples, sending jolts of pleasure straight to her core. Karela arched her back, pushing her breasts further into his hands, eager for more.
"Fuck, Conan," she panted, "Your hands... your cock...
it feels so fucking good," she moaned, her pussy clenching around him.
Conan growled, his hands moving from her breasts to her hips, his grip tightening as he pounded into her. "You like that, don't you, you little slut? You like being fucked hard on this fucking horse."
Karela could only moan in response, her body consumed by the pleasure that coursed through her. She could feel every inch of Conan's massive cock as it slid in and out of her pussy, the friction sending sparks of pleasure shooting through her.
His hands on her hips were like iron bands, pulling her back onto him with each thrust, driving his cock deep into her core. The sound of their flesh slapping together filled the air, mingling with their moans and grunts.
He reached around, his fingers finding her clit, rubbing it in tight circles as he continued to fuck her. "You're so fucking wet, Karela. You're dripping all over my cock, my balls, my thighs. You're fucking soaking me." She could feel the wetness, the sticky trails of her arousal coating her thighs, Conan's cock, his balls. She could smell it, the musky scent of their combined desire filling the air.
She could feel it, the sticky trails of her arousal coating her thighs, Conan's cock, his balls. She could taste it, the faint tang of their shared pleasure lingering on her tongue. And she wanted more. She wanted it all.
Conan's fingers continued to work her clit, drawing tight circles that sent jolts of pleasure coursing through her. She could feel her orgasm building, the pressure growing with each thrust of his cock, each flick of his fingers. She was close, so fucking close.
"Conan," she gasped, her voice ragged. "I'm gonna cum."
"Do it," her snarled. "Cum. Now."
Conan's voice was a low growl, his fingers working her clit with increasing urgency. Karela could feel the pressure building, her body tensing as her orgasm approached. She was so close, so fucking close.
"Fuck, Conan," she gasped, her fingers digging into the saddle horn. "I'm almost there. Keep going. Don't stop."
Conan grunted, his hips slamming against her ass as he pounded into her. His fingers flew over her clit, rubbing it in tight, fast circles.
Karela could feel her orgasm building, a wave of pleasure cresting inside her. "I'm gonna cum. I'm gonna fucking cum so hard."
"Do it, he growled, his voice rough with desire.
Karela cried out, her body convulsing as her orgasm tore through her. She could feel it, her pussy clenching around Conan's cock, drawing him deeper as waves of pleasure washed over her. Conan groaned, his cock pulsing as he felt her cumming on him.
Her pussy clamped down, milking him, and he couldn't hold back any longer. With a final, savage thrust, he buried himself deep inside her, his cock throbbing as he filled her with his hot seed.
"Fuck, Karela," he growled, his voice ragged. "You feel so fucking good. I'm gonna fill you up, baby. I'm gonna fill you so full of my cum that it's dripping out of you."
Karela moaned, her body still shaking with the aftershocks of her orgasm.
She could feel Conan's cock pulsing inside her, his hot seed filling her pussy. She could feel it, warm and sticky, coating her walls, dripping out of her and onto his balls, his thighs.
"Fuck, Conan," she panted, her head dropping forward. "That was... that was fucking incredible."
Conan grunted, his hands still gripping her hips, his cock still buried deep inside her. "You're fucking incredible, Karela," he growled, his voice thick with satisfaction.
He pulled out of her, his cock glistening with their combined juices. Karela gasped, her pussy clenching at the sudden emptiness. She turned to him, her eyes gleaming with desire.
"Not bad yourself, Conan," she purred, her voice low and sultry. "But I want more. I want to taste you. I want to feel you cumming in my mouth."
Conan's eyes darkened, his cock twitching at her words. "You want my cum, little noblewoman?