Sinful Seduction

Summary: When Isabella Swan is captured from her home during a barbarian raid, her life changes forever. She's given as a slave-gift to the barbarian king to do as he pleases with her. She refuses him at first, but can the charming young king seduce her into his bed? Will her nobleman lover back home come to rescue her?

Author's Note: Yeah, so if you're here from Sunshine's last chapter, welcome! If you're new, welcome! I love all readers, and I'm really happy that you guys are giving this a chance. I'm excited about this one. I've got a good, action and sex filled plot written down, so I'm pretty sure that I could finish this one like I finished Sunshine. You guys help me with that—because you all rock! Also, you'll notice some pretty weird names. The names of those men will be revealed later, and yes, they are the traditional pack members. This is an all-human story, with an alternate universe setting and plot. Go Twilight! And for the language, I used Hausa language and translated it off of Google Translate (don't ask me why I chose Hausa lol). I'll add a dictionary at the bottom so you don't have to look anything up in Hausa! Yup… so enjoy my crazy thoughts (:

Ratings: This story is rated M for profanity, language, violence, and sex! Take caution readers 18 and under!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyers owns this…and thus sadly I shall never be able to say that I own these beautiful characters.

Chapter One: Barbaric

"The barbarians are coming!"

At that moment, my heart stops. I look up from where I am sitting next to the boudoir in the manor to the oval shaped window. No, I think to myself. This can't be happening.

The barbarians rarely ever raided the northwestern villages, but when they did, they left the streets bloodied and the houses bare. And if they were feeling especially evil, they'd even take a maiden back to their king as a gift.

I am dressed in a beautiful red silk dress, ready to go to the town square to meet with the man that I'd been courting for about a month. Rumor had said that Sir Edward was going to ask for my hand in marriage. And of course, I was to accept his offer. Edward is the wealthiest noble in the village with the most to offer me.

He'd told me his stories of how he and his men would ride out to conquer the barbarians and kill their king to capture the Silvertongue and rid the kingdom of any future barbarian attacks. I had asked him what the Silvertongue was on our ride to the meadows, the ones that he took me on our first time alone together.

"A Silvertongue is an object that knows all the world's languages, whether they be secret, or well known," Edward had said to me. "The Silvertongue will help us to decipher the book of Azazel. Anyone who can decipher the book of Azazel is said to bathe in riches and achieve world domination with his men. I shall marry you, Isabella, and then we shall rule the world as the greatest King and Queen anyone has ever known."

"My lady!" the maidservant calls. "We must evacuate out the back door immediately! Your father has been killed and your mother captured."

My face goes pale and I can feel the knot in my stomach tighten. "Killed…? Captured?" Before I can properly respond, the sound of battle cries and splintering wood downstairs echoes out and breaks me from my stunned trance.

Angelina, my maid, grabs my hand and tugs me down the hallway. I struggle to keep up with having the burden of a heavy silk dress, tripping over my skirts every so often as I am being yanked hurriedly down the stairs.

A cry in the distance is followed by the sound of a gruesome squishing sound of a barbarian spear going through the flesh of an innocent villager. At the bottom of the steps lays my other handmaiden, surrounded by a pool of blood with a knife in her stomach.

Angelina sobs loudly, but I quickly hush her, pushing her out the back door. The sound of crashing can be heard as barbarians are seen invading my kitchens and smashing my mother's prized fine china.

It's ridiculously hot on this particular summer month, the smell of death and blood lingering in the sticky air. It's complete chaos out in the roads. The square is littered with dead bodies, screaming women and children, and debris from wrecked bazaars and merchant stands.

I absently wonder where Edward is, and if he's safe. I wonder if my father died quickly and painlessly, and if my mother is still alive and well. "My lady, please!" Angelina tugs on my pale white hand, pulling me farther into the forest to escape the hoard of barbarians that ambushes my quiet little village of Forks.

Barbarians usually dressed in animal skins and wore the bones of humans in bracelets or necklaces. They grew their hair out long and ran with wolves, fighting on foot instead of horseback, and with khopesh swords and daggers instead of iron swords.

As Angelina pulls me deeper into the depths of the lush green forest, I can see life as I knew it slowly fading away before my reluctant eyes. Tears form where tears weren't welcome and I soon find myself crying like a child. It's all happening so fast; my mother is captured, my father is dead, my house is wrecked and my riches are gone. It is slap in the face that was gifted from reality, and I am only a tiny speck on the face of the earth, running away into the forbidden wilderness with my lowly maidservant as my only companion left.

I choke on my tears. Angelina turns around to make sure that I didn't hurt myself. I hadn't hurt myself on the outside, but I'm hurting a lot on the inside.

Wolves howling in the background distract me from my woe for a split second, causing me to stumble over a prominent root protruding from the ground. I fall, pulling my maidservant down with me.

"Are you alright, my lady?" Angelina's voice comes out in a rushed whisper. My heart's beating faster than it ever beat before, and I can hear the sound of twigs cracking under rough, bare feet nearing us.

"Shh," I whisper, wiping at my tears with a shaky hand. "I can hear them. They're close—you know what they do when they find women hiding."

The maid's eyes widen. "I feel as if I am too afraid to ask," Angelina whimpered.

Hidden in the brush, I peer through the leaves to look at my surroundings. The sound of barking wolves can still be heard, but the footsteps have gone deeper into the forest than we have. "They take them as sex slaves. I thought you knew."

A crunch of a twig and the swift rustling of leaves makes Angelina yelp and shake uncontrollably. "We can't be captured, my lady. We must run!"

"No!" I growl, and pull her back to the ground as she leans back on her haunches, readying to dart out into the forest. "We cannot risk that. We cannot outrun the barbarians, so I say that our best chance of survival and escape are to sit and wait them out. Wait 'till they clear the area."

Angelina groans. "I'm afraid," she whispered. "I don't want to be their slave."

I don't tell her about the other stories I'd heard about the barbarians, like how they would sell their slave to other men to bed after they grew tired of their own, how they would rape a slave if she did not submit willingly, and how sometimes barbarians would put their women on display in horrid public events.

I'm determined to get us out alive and free, and I'm determined to find Edward again. I want to see his red-brown hair, bright green eyes and sunny smile. I want to hear him laugh and feel his rose-petal lips on my skin when he kisses my hand politely.

"Three Horses!" A voice calls in the distance. They speak in a language that I do not understand. Angelina and I crouch back into the leaves more, hiding our bodies from barbarian eyes.

"Paleface trinket," one slurs, holding up a silver necklace. I refrain myself from gasping, my hand flying to my neck where my mother's necklace should have been. It must have come off when I fell, and now it was going to be stolen by those beasts.

"Drinks of Waterfall," the other says. "Paleface…close."

The bone chains on their necks, arms and feet jingle as they crouch closer to where we hide. I bite my lip and I see Angelina panicking, muttering silent prayers with her eyes glued firmly shut.

I decide to pray as well, bowing my head and letting my curtain of chestnut hair cover my face. I had thought that they'd gone, but I'm terribly wrong. A curious hand feels around through the brush where we are hiding.

I stay as still as possible to try and avoid contact with the rough hand and cease my noise, hopelessly thinking that perhaps they'd leave if they didn't hear or feel anything. But I'm wrong again.

Angelina shrieks like a pig being butchered to death when the rough hand grabs a fistful of her black hair and tugs her up by the soft strands. The barbarians laugh and as the one called Drinks of Waterfall pushes my maid to the other one named Three Horses. Three Horses grabs Angelina and ties her flailing hands with rope as Drinks of Waterfall holds her arms down.

My maidservant is gagged and slung over Three Horses' shoulder. I slink down into the brush as Drinks of Waterfall nears again. He sees me. I know he sees me. He reaches down, winding his fingers into my soft chestnut locks of hair, yanking so harshly that I feel my scalp begin to bleed.

I squeal in pain, grasping at the barbarian's hands. Three Horses looks back and grins, muttering something to his colleague. It was probably praise and approval for my capture.

I put up a fight as Drinks of Waterfall tries to tie my hands with leather strips of rope. The barbarian growls in frustration when I hit him hard in the stomach, then laughs at me when I whimper in pain from the wrist-ropes being too tight.

"Let us go!" I hiss at him through my teeth. I kick at Drinks of Waterfall as he slings me over his broad, copper toned shoulder. He doesn't listen to me—but what do I expect? He's a filthy barbarian. And barbarians show no mercy to palefaces.

I struggle as he carries me through the woods like I'm a mere sack of flour, ignoring the profanities I spew from my mouth, ignoring the cries, and ignoring the pleas.

"You're an animal!" I scream, kicking my feet hard against his chest. Drinks of Waterfall growls viciously, raising his hand to my bottom and smacking it down hard on the silk-covered skin.

I yelp out in shock and anger. I struggle even harder. "You beast!" I scream. "You'll rot in Hell for this!" He whips me down from his shoulder and carries me baby style in one arm as he fishes a rag out of his leather satchel he carries on his shoulder.

The rag is brown, but it has a strange white substance on it. The barbarian stuffs it inside of my mouth against my will. I manage to bite his finger as he does so; and it draws blood. But the white substance on the rag was making me feel drowsy and like I was full of jelly and no bones. My eyes fluttered shut as the barbarian cussed and wiped his bleeding finger on my beautiful red silk dress.

I hate him…I hate him…

0o0o0o0o

When I awaken, the smell of cooking meat holds my interest. I lift my head off of the warm shoulder that I'd been slobbering all over and my eyes flicker open. Music was playing, meat was cooking, and women dressed in animal skins were weaving baskets and tending to little naked babies running wild all over the ground.

I wrap my arms around my carrier as my eyes slip shut again. It's hard to keep them open and I still feel so weak. I don't know where I am, and I don't remember much of where I was before I went to sleep.

My eyes flutter open and really look at my surroundings. Stone buildings, tents, and strange wooden houses attract my attention. I see the same women weaving a basket while her naked, copper-skinned baby boy ran naked around the fire, in which another woman roasted meat over.

"Angelina," I mumble, finally coming to. I look up, frightened. Where am I? The last I remember was the forest, hiding from the barbarians.

I look at the body that is carrying me. The broad copper shoulders, long black hair weaved into a fuzzy braid that reached his hips. I look at the side of his serene features. It's Drinks of Waterfall.

I'm horrified instantly, and begin to struggle as I see Three Horses carrying a passed out Angelina on his shoulders. "No fight," Drinks of Waterfall hisses at me. "Almost there."

My heart pounds inside of my chest. There's no use in struggling because I already know that I won't escape Drinks of Waterfall's arms; and even if I did, I'd quickly be caught. I was, after all, in a barbarian kingdom. I was surrounded and I was an outcast.

My tears had dried on my face and I resorted to whimpering helplessly in the arms of the monstrous man after I had no tears left in me to let out. I had sworn not to be caught; I could not be a sex slave.

I was promised to Edward, and that was something that I intended to keep in my heart and in my mind. We neared a huge stone castle-like building with a drawbridge over a freshwater river running through the barbarian kingdom.

Children swim in it, women wash clothes in it, and men drink and fish from it. He carries me right over it, following Three Horses with Angelina. The hall that we walk into is bustling with wealthier barbarians, ones with jewels strung around their necks instead of bones. They laughed, sitting at long rows of tables, stuffing fried legs of chickens into their greedy mouths and picking up food with their dirty hands.

As soon as the men saw Three Horses and Drinks of Waterfall, they begin to cheer loudly. "Woman! More woman!" one shouts and stands on the table, raising his cup of beer to the sky. I watch as the brown liquid sloshes in his cup and trickles down his arm.

Disgusting. Every single one of them.

I hear crying and look in front of me to see Angelina weeping on Three Horses' shoulders. She'd woken up and realized her surroundings. It made me yearn for her. I buried my face into Drinks of Waterfall's shoulder, trying to hide myself from the sexual comments and calls.

Three Horses lifts Angelina's skirts and bares her bottom to the crowd. She screams and kicks her legs, tears of embarrassment and shame clouding up her big brown eyes. "Stop! Stop it!"

Drinks of Waterfall laughs—hard—and follows Three Horses up the great stone staircase and into the very first room on the right. There are tons and tons of girls in the large room, some palefaced civilians and some of barbarian descent. He dumps me onto the floor next to a quivering girl in the corner and unties me. I scramble away from him instantly, cowering next to Angelina, who had also been untied by Three Horses.

They mumble something in their language to each other, and then they burst into laughter. The expression on Three Horses' face almost makes me want to laugh in disgust, but I'm afraid of what he'll do to me. The rest of the girls in the room look absolutely terrified.

The barbarians walk out of the room and lock the door behind them. I shoot Angelina a look. One of the civilian girls with honey-golden hair stands on her feet and walks over to my maid and I. "Another raid, I'm guessing," she frowns. "It's a shame. You seem like important ladies. Where were you from?"

I clear my throat and lick my dry lips. "Forks."

The blonde beauty gapes. "I didn't know they expanded over to the northwestern villages. I'm from a tiny northeastern village called York. They like attacking over there. There's a lot of wealth in those parts, and quite frankly, I don't know why I wasn't captured earlier. My father was one of the wealthiest men living in York."

She sits down in front of me, lifting her animal skin dress over her knees. She points at my dress. "You look like you met the same fate, huh?"

I frown, looking at down at myself. My red silk dress is no longer shiny and pretty; it was ripped and muddy. I groan. "Yeah. They led a raid on the worst day possible."

She extends her hand. "Hi, you two. I'm Rosalie."

I shake Rosalie's hand first. "Isabella."

Angelina shakes Rosalie's hand second. "I'm Isabella's maid, Angelina."

"Nice to meet you," the blonde says. "These are the ladies of the harem." She begins to point to some of the girls. "That's Alice, Jezebel, Jane, Sulpicia, Athenodora, Didyme, Emilia, Cecilia, and Clair. There's more, but they're probably out with men right now."

She says it so nonchalantly, like being with a barbarian man is a way of life.

"It's a way of life," Alice murmurs, sliding her frail body up beside Rosalie's. Alice has short, shoulder length brown hair and sharp features. "We've been here for two years. Sometimes being a harem girl isn't so bad…but in the beginning we all start out with bruises."

I gasp in horror. "They rape you?"

Rosalie shrugs. "More like take us when they feel like it. It's their custom to have women to bed when they feel the need—warriors get more than commoners, though. If a warrior wants to marry a harem girl, she cannot refuse."

My face reddens and I shake my head. "There's no way I'm sleeping around with a billion different beasts. I've promised myself to a man in my village!"

"He's probably dead," Alice comments softly. "Barbarians kill all the men they see in the villages."

A wave of nausea sweeps over me and I find myself doubled over and clutching my stomach. "I won't do it."

"Oh no!" Rosalie cries. "It's horribly insulting when a harem girl turns down a man. It's like a barbarian taboo. But don't worry—we'll do our best to teach you our customs. You've such a pretty face, and I'd hate to see it bruised."

The girls all scramble back to their dirty corners as the door opens and Three Horses stepped in with two different men. Drinks of Waterfall is absent that time.

They looked around the room. Three Horses points to me and then Angelina and the men nod in approval. Three Horses' hand gestures to the array of other women and the men go and pick their girls. The biggest, burliest one picks the smallest, frailest girl in the room. I think that Rosalie said her name was Emilia.

And the lankier, kinder looking one takes the most curvaceous woman, Didyme. Didyme is not a paleface like Rosalie and I are. The girls stand at the doorway with their men. Three Horses speaks to the men and glances over at me while speaking several times during his chat.

"Tiger Claw," Three Horses comments while staring at me, and the men laugh. "Dances With Wolves and Tiger Claw?"

The other two men nodded vigilantly. They seemed to be agreeing very strongly on something. Rosalie scoots towards me. "He's just named you Tiger Claw after your spirit. It seems that you injured Drinks of Waterfall pretty badly. He says you've got heart and spirit."

I smile at the fact that I hurt my barbarian captor but as they speak more about this other character, the dancing wolf guy, I become more intrigued. "Who's Dancing Wolf?" I ask her.

Rosalie snorts and her bright green eyes dart to where the men are standing and discussing. "You mean Dances With Wolves? That's the most important figure—you really ought to know him, Isabella."

I stare at her. "Alright. Well who is he?"

"The barbarian king," she whispers. "His name is Dances With Wolves. I think that Three Horses is thinking of…oh my."

"What?" I hiss. "What is it? What are they saying?"

Rosalie ignores me. "I've only ever been with Dances With Wolves once. He was beautiful, but he had a temper like a bull that was trapped in a red room."

"Oh," I whisper. "Rosalie, what do they speak of—"

"Rose," Three Horses croons. "Come. Ku zo nan. Wannan mutum yanã son ya kwanta ka dab da Emilia."

She gets up from her position and goes to the burlier man, clinging onto his arm and purring seductively at him. I am left sitting on the ground next to Angelina, completely flabbergasted. I do not know their language and the fact that Rosalie is so willing happens to disgust me.

Three Horses looks up at me and walks over to where I am sitting. Angelina cowers back; the barbarian sneers at her before grabbing my arm and yanking me to my feet. "You to come wit' me."

My eyes widen as he pulls me along. I dig my bare heel into the stone floor and yank us both to a stop. Three Horses looks annoyed. "You speak the Common Tongue?"

"Not enough time to sit chat, farar fata karuwa." Three Horses hisses at me "He waits for you. You be lucky to serve him."

My eyes widen and fire runs through my veins. I yank my arm out of his grasp. He turns around in surprise and anger. "I refuse! I will not go!"

The girls in the room all gasp and everything falls silent. Before I can register, Three Horses has hit me across the face. I double over in shock and pain, clutching at my lip, which has been split open. Blood drips down to my chin.

"You do not speak wit' me like 'dat," he booms. "You do not speak like 'dat wit' your master. You kariya, you be lucky I not your master!"

I'm so dizzy from the force of his blow that I weakly follow as he grabs my arm and pulls me down the hallway. They are dark, hot, and long. I cannot see where I am going. Torches illuminate the stony walls, allowing me to see the cobwebs and blood splatters on the brick.

This place is my worst nightmare, this place is my Hell.

There's a big room across the hall, guarded by two grand doors. From under the doors I can see the faint flickering light of a fire and hear the soft clank of wine glasses and jewels.

Three Horses knocks on the door and mumbles something else in their language to whoever was inside. A deep, smooth bass voice rumbles from inside. Three Horses pushes open the door and throws me on the ground.

I gasp, bringing my hands out before me to break my fall. A huge animal skin chair sits before the fire. I cannot see my new master's face. I can only see his giant, bronzed arm, tattooed and muscled.

Three Horses walks around front and begins to speak with his master. "I 'tought she might please you," he says. They laugh, and Three Horses shows the superior the bag of items they had collected from my house. Intricate china plates, pots, jewels, gold, and fine silver cups. I growl in disgust.

"Out wit' you," the one in the chair says, and Three Horses is already on his way out of the door. I am still laying on the floor. I have not the strength to scramble away, but my eyes and heart are still those of a tiger and they still rage with fire.

He stands up from his chair to his towering height of almost seven feet tall and looks down at me. It's dark and I can't see his face, or how disgusted he might be with me. I push myself up to my knees and look away from him. "'Dey call you Tiger Claw," he whispers. "You know why?" I shake my head, still refusing to look at him.

"'Dey t'ink you strong." The barbarian finishes. "Strong man need strong woman."

I hear his thundering footsteps near me. He fists his hand into my hair, and I wince, waiting for the painful yank. But it never comes. He gently turns my head towards his.

My eyes widen and I gasp. He's the most beautiful specimen of man I've ever seen. His long hair is thickly braided and hangs down to his hips. His eyes are black and his eyelashes are thick black as well, making his face look darker. He has full russet lips, a cleft in his prominent chin, and defined cheekbones that make his manly face look perfectly contoured in the firelight.

His huge finger finds my lip and touches the blood there. "How you do 'dis?" he asks me. I'm so startled that I can't find my words. I glance towards the door. "Three Horses?"

I nod, and he grits his teeth. "Bastard should beat his own whores," he grumbles, and yanks me up by my arm.

I stand in front of him weakly, uncomfortable in my dirty red dress. He stands back and looks at me. He slips off his fur vest, revealing a huge muscled chest and abs so prominent that they looked like they could grate cheese. I refrain myself from fainting at this man's sheer beauty.

Suddenly, he raises his hand and tears off a strip of my red silk dress. I shriek and back away from him. "What do you think you are doing?" I hiss at him horror. He cocks his head, not quite understanding. His hands go around to his waist to untie the breechcloth that hid his manhood from her eyes.

"No!" she put her hands up to cease his movement. She stumbled back to where the barbarian's bed was and gripped the fur covers.

He looks at me like I have three heads growing out of my neck. "No?" he asks in confusion. "No?"

His hands fall away from his breechcloth as he narrows his eyes and sucks his lip into his mouth. My heart is pounding. He comes at me quickly and I scream, trying to jump away, but I am too slow.

He wrestles me to the bed, lifting my skirts and struggling his way through my undergarments. "Be still!" he booms.

There are tears in my eyes as he inserts a finger inside of me. He makes a noise, like he had contemplating something for days and just now found the answer to his question. He takes his finger out of me and pops it into his mouth, separating those sweet russet lips and swirling his juice-coated finger into his mouth.

I stay still and silent, completely taken aback by what he is doing. Flames spark down near my groin as I watch as he looks into my eyes and greedily sucks my nectar off of his finger like it was some sort of fine wine. It was the most erotic thing I had ever experienced in my entire life.

He took his finger out of his mouth and rested his hand next to my head. "Virgin," he whispers before laughing deeply. He steps away from me, still laughing. He throws a pile of furs in her direction, taking a sip of his wine glass. "Dress yourself, budurwa. I shall not bed you tonight."

He sits back down in his chair. My heart pounds faster and faster. This was reality. Here I was in a barbarian castle, sitting indecently in the corner of a barbarian's room in a torn red dress as his whore.

I can't do this.

I won't do this.

0o0o0o0o

Hausa Dictionary: (it gets a little nasty down here!)

Ku zo nan: Come here.

Wannan mutumyanã son yakwantakadab da Emilia: This man wishes to bed you alongside Emilia.

Farar fata karuwa: White slut/whore

Kariya: Bitch

Budurwa: Virgin

Thanks for reading you guys! Review if you liked it. No one's ever written anything like this in the J/B fandom, so I'm really looking for thoughts and opinions and if I should go on. Thanks!

Courtney xx