Four people. One rope. Desire plunged into dangerous obsession…
Errion Ald’Areed senses that his business partner’s passion for designing pleasure upgrades for service robots has cooled, but nothing he’s tried—men, women, exotic adventures—has lifted Lorren D’Buren’s ennui. Until he sees the look in Lorren’s eyes when the intergalactic ambassador from Diola crosses their path at a charity ball. Under the watchful eye of Gabriyel, her faithful bodyguard, Farjika is determined to live down her empress mother’s scandalous reputation for taking multiple lovers. Her instant attraction to Lorren, though, tempts her to cross her self-imposed bounds of propriety. And Gabriyel is shocked that his level-headed mistress has fallen so easily into a torrid affair. At first Errion is pleased that Farjika has roused Lorren out of his funk. When he notices the depth of the mutual fascination, though, he realizes he must act quickly—or lose his sometime lover and best friend. His plan to eliminate the threat is perfect in its beautiful complexity. Until one snag in his delicate web of seduction plunges them all into a potentially deadly tangle with no way out…
Warning: Contains humor, masturbatory robots, mystical BDSM, stern punishments and more variations on m/m/m/f than the author can count. Sex toys are not included with purchase but are strongly recommended.
eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work. This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental. Samhain Publishing, Ltd. 577 Mulberry Street, Suite 1520 Macon GA 31201 Dark Empress Copyright © 2011 by Anitra Lynn McLeod ISBN: 978-1-60928-379-7 Edited by Linda Ingmanson Cover by Kanaxa All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: September 2011 www.samhainpublishing.com
Dark Empress Anitra Lynn McLeod
Dedication
To my fellow author, occasional mentor, and all-around good friend, Kate Douglas. Thank you for your advice, your support, and reminding me that this business is utterly crazy, but so am I. You rock.
Chapter One
Lorren had heard the phrase “the agony of ecstasy”, but he’d never actually seen the expression in action until now. Errion’s shaggy blond head went back, the column of his tanned throat working as sweat rolled down his face. With one hand gripped on the back of the chair and the other tangled in the maid’s hair, his lips parted on a scream as he climaxed in a body-shaking wave. The maid’s bobbing head eagerly met each jerk of his hips. Hairless chest heaving as he gulped air, Errion refused to let go of her until he’d pumped his last. After giving him a moment to recover, Lorren asked, “On a scale of one to ten, one being a disappointment and ten being the best—” “Are you mad?” Errion gasped. “That was beyond a ten!” Lifting the maid up by her chin, Errion considered her metallic face. He shook his head as he fingered her remarkable mouth. “What the hell is her throat made out of?” “Proprietary material.” Lorren met Errion’s inquisitive green eyes with a lift of his brows. “Do you want to try the rest of her?” Lorren would very much enjoy watching his friend utilize every part of the maid’s enhanced anatomy. It had been a long time since they’d found a human female to share. Luckily, the maid didn’t care if she was with one or a hundred men. Too, the study was theirs for the afternoon as the rest of the D’Buren clan was out at some charity function. “She might be a machine, but I’m certainly not.” Errion collapsed in a boneless heap, his spent cock limp against his hairy thigh. “Whatever you’re charging for that upgrade, it isn’t enough.” Lorren hadn’t yet decided on a price point, but his marketing research showed there would be a solid demand for such an enhancement. Robotic maids had been his family’s business for as long as their history went back; sexual upgrades were exclusively Lorren’s idea. One he and his father fought over often, loudly, and occasionally publicly, much to his mother’s chagrin. Rather than mentioning the upgrades he had planned for the robotic butlers, Lorren had wisely shut his mouth as he continued to tinker in his laboratory. “So how much would you pay?” Lorren flicked his dark hair out of his eyes as he settled across from his best friend. After that stunning performance, he was painfully hard, but he was determined to finish field testing his prototypes before he dealt with his demanding body. Lazily lifting his head, Errion smirked. “For a suck that goes on for”—he examined the wall clock— “half a spin? Raylor’s testicles, Lorren, I’d say at least half a vel.”
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“Half?” Lorren scrawled a note on his portable office, then set the flat aside. “Too much?” Errion lifted the metal maid’s skirt. “I think so, since the unit alone already costs almost a vel.” “Yeah, but, seriously, her mouth is unlike anything I’ve ever had my dick in. I mean it’s better than what any human woman could do.” Errion ordered the maid to hold her skirt up, which she dutifully did, her golden face blank. “Although I’ve had a couple of men who could certainly take me that deep.” After flashing Lorren a conspiratorial wink, he began to gently finger the maid. “How did you manage to make her get wet?” “Proprietary.” Rolling his eyes, Errion sighed. “You say that about everything. Do you honestly think I’ve hidden a recording device on me somewhere?” Spreading his hands wide, Errion gave Lorren a good long look at his muscular body. “The only place to put it would be up my ass.” Their eyes met, held. Lowering his voice as he dropped his gaze to Lorren’s cock, Errion murmured, “Maybe you should check.” Lifting his gaze, penetrating his intensity right into Lorren’s already overactive libido, he added, “Just to be sure.” Lorren considered doing just that but relented. “We’re supposed to be testing my prototypes.” With a sigh, Errion nodded. His gaze drifted around the overly decorated room crammed with furniture, rugs and art. Finally, his attention landed on the butler standing at attention against the wall. “Then do him and let me watch.” With a series of commands, Lorren had the silver butler down on all fours. He flipped up the back of his black jacket, revealing a discreet flap on his trousers. Two flicks of his fingers and the butler’s bottom was exposed. “Eh…” Errion considered the metallic ass with the oddly placed flesh-colored unit. “That doesn’t look very…appealing.” It certainly didn’t. “Frankly, that’s the ugliest ass I’ve ever seen.” Errion peered closer. “And that’s saying something, since I went to Gertster.” Errion had terrified Lorren when he was younger with horror stories about his time at the all-male school. As they matured, so did the tales, until they’d finally gotten old enough to act some of them out. Since that day, they were never far from a satisfying release, which made the women who chased them unable to use sex as a weapon, as so many of the modern ladies did. “It’s a prototype,” Lorren defended. “I haven’t worked out all the aesthetics.” However, Lorren’s erection was fading in direct proportion to the time he spent considering the butler’s hideous backside. “Now this”—Errion stood and slapped his right butt cheek—“is a perfect ass.” Bending over slightly to better display his butt, he added, “Just a bit of golden hair, but not too much, and look at these muscles!”
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By tensing one leg, then the other, Errion made his behind dance and exposed the strength in his entire body. Natural strength, because as far as Lorren knew, Errion didn’t bother with sports or any type of activity, besides the bedroom variety, that would account for his perfectly proportioned body. Where Lorren sweated and strained to attain his muscular form, Errion got his naturally. Annoying, in that they looked very much alike for extremely different effort levels, but still, the man was his friend, and he did have a spectacular body. The more Lorren considered him, the harder he became. “Let’s see what we can do to improve the look of your butler here.” Getting down on all fours, Errion draped himself on top of the butler, covering his ugly ass with his much more pleasing one. “Doesn’t that look better?” “Much.” Thankfully, the butler was superbly made and could withstand the weight of ten men. “Perhaps I should submit images of your butt to the machinist.” Lorren slapped his cheeks hard enough to make his flesh quiver. Squealing like a girl, Errion wheedled, “Spank me, Master D’Buren, I’ve been ever so bad!” “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Lorren asked with his sternest voice. “If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be down on my knees begging for it, now would I?” Timing his slaps to his words, Lorren said, “How that would feed your massive ego—hundreds of thousands of men pounding an image of your ass on a nightly basis.” Glancing over his shoulder, Errion grinned. “How does that do me any good? Imaginary butt banging doesn’t help me at all, not when mine is here right now, all lonely and in need, and—” Lorren cut him off by slipping one finger between his far too perfect cheeks. “Lonely? In need?” Lorren teased his finger around his wonderfully tight flesh. “How long has it been since you got any?” “You mean besides the suck-fest a moment ago?” Errion angled up as he considered. “Does my own hand count?” “There is no way you’ve been reduced to your own hand. I see how the ladies, not to mention the gentlemen, look at you. You could have your pick.” Without moving too far away, Lorren grabbed his satchel and dumped the contents on the floor. Picking through a myriad of items, he found a tube of slicker, another invention he’d been meaning to field test. Smearing a generous portion on his cock and some between Errion’s cheeks for good measure, he drew close. “I’m sick of the surgically enhanced faces of the women, and if one more simpering dandy—” Errion stopped in mid-rant. “What is that stuff? Raylor’s farcical butt hole! It’s all warm and tingly.” Errion wriggled below him, his movements growing ever more desperate as the slicker grew hot. “If you don’t get inside me soon, I’m going to scream like a girl for real this time.” Lorren felt the same pressing need. The slicker made his cock feel too big for his skin and dangerously close to climax. “Hold still! I can hardly get my cock in if you’re bouncing all over the place.”
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Errion gripped the butler’s shoulders, his hands digging against the unyielding metal until his fingertips went white. “Do it already!” Lorren placed one hand low on Errion’s back, trying to hold him in place as he fumbled with his now overly sensitive cock. Just as he pressed the head within, the butler began to make an odd growling noise. “What is he—” The butler let out a piercing wail that grew in volume as his mechanical head craned upward. Errion lifted off the butler’s back, which forced Lorren’s cock deep into his ass. Before Lorren could growl out his pleasure, Errion continued to move backward, but Lorren was unable to dislodge himself from Errion’s bottom. Somehow, the slicker had gotten sticky, wedging his cock inside Errion. “Stop moving, or you’ll break my dick!” Lorren was trying to keep a cool head, but that went right out the window when his new slicker and his modified butler went horribly wrong. On and on the cry went as the butler shook from side to side as if he were flinging off water. Smoke curled up from his ears in sluggish wisps as sparks flew from his modified ass. Together they lurched sideways, out of the line of fire. “Aren’t you glad you didn’t stick your dick in there?” Errion asked wryly. The proprietary material that fashioned his pleasure hole burst into flames. Spewing expletives, Errion jerked back, crashing into Lorren, knocking him on his back as he crushed the air right out of his lungs. Before Lorren could catch his breath or lift up, the door opened. Shyla’s innocent face popped into view. “What are you two up—” She never finished the thought as her big blue eyes took in the screaming, flame-farting butler, the maid daintily holding up her skirt, and Errion naked and hard on top of an also naked Lorren. He wasn’t sure, but he thought from that angle she could see that his cock was lodged inside Errion’s backside. A look of utter disgust washed down Shyla’s features as she slammed the door. Both men burst into gales of laughter. They didn’t stop until the butler’s fire fizzled and died. The entire room smelled of burnt electronics, plastic and sex. “Well, my friend,” Errion began, “perhaps this will be the final indignity that disabuses Shyla of the notion that you will ever marry her.” “True.” Lorren wiped tears from his eyes as he continued to chuckle. “I can hardly walk down the aisle with you dangling off the tip of my dick.” Errion wriggled. “You’re still hard after all that?” “I guess so.” Lorren sighed, disappointed that his creation had failed so spectacularly. “At least the maid works.” Together they glanced up at her, still standing there, holding up her skirt. Glass eyes looked oddly human but hid a camera and several sensors. When the smoking pleasure unit fell out of the butler, the maid whirled into action. Dropping her skirt, she pulled a dustpan from her thigh and dutifully swept up the
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mess. Rolling over to the nearest trash bin, she dumped it out, replaced the pan in her leg, then returned to her spot and pulled her skirt back up. “Now that’s my kind of woman.” Again, they snickered. “You know, this isn’t going to be so funny if I have to have my cock surgically removed from your ass.” “That would be unpleasant.” Errion considered. “Tell me what it’s made out of, and we can find a way to dissolve the hold.” Errion whipped his head around suddenly. “And if you say proprietary, I swear I will shoot flames out of my ass.” “Yeah? I’d like to see you try.” Squeezing his eyes shut, Errion pushed, which tightened him around Lorren’s cock. Slapping his ass, Lorren snarled, “Oh, yeah, keep trying.” They dissolved into sporadic chuckles that faded away entirely when everything they tried failed. “Am I hurting you?” Fun was fun, but he didn’t want to injure his life-long friend. “No.” Errion shimmied. “You’re really wedged in there. It’s annoying, but it won’t kill me.” “I need a drink.” Fumbling around on their knees, they managed to make their way to the wet bar on the far side of the room. Amid a dozen bottles of weak liquor, they found one bottle of Opvver double-distilled brandy. After wrenching it open, they both drank directly from the bottle. After a few swallows, Lorren felt more relaxed but still hard. “Try putting some alcohol on it and see if that works.” It took a lot of careful maneuvering and half the bottle, but eventually, Lorren was free. “Praise be to Raylor!” Errion swiped the bottle and took a big swig. “Now, let’s get cleaned up and see what we can do about that erection of yours.” Lorren couldn’t believe that after all that, Errion would want anything to do with him ever again. “Are you kidding?” Peering at him through strands of shaggy blond hair, Errion gave him that lopsided grin that told him they would never be less than perfect friends. “I love your inventions!” He considered the mess they’d made of what had been an orderly study. “I love your wild, creative mind.” He lifted the bottle in salute. “Without you, I would have long ago died of boredom.” After taking a deep pull, he passed the bottle over. “And I never would have ever laughed so much before, during, or after bodydraining orgasms.” Clapping his hand to Lorren’s shoulder, he finished, “You, my friend, are the best friend a man could ever have.” The door to the sturdy burst open with such force the knob imbedded into the wall. The true Master D’Buren’s thunderous face filled the upper part of the doorway. His blazing gaze swept over the damaged room, lingering on the kneeling butler, whose backside was now only a gaping hole, the maid daintily
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exposing herself, then finally landing on the two of them sitting cross-legged on the floor splitting a bottle of very expensive and extremely strong alcohol. Anger turned his face so red Lorren thought for sure smoke would curl out his ears, just like the butler’s. “You better go,” Lorren said. Climbing gingerly to his feet, Errion retrieved his clothing from the chair he’d settled into for the maid’s oral exam. Without putting a stitch on, he sidled to the door and slipped past the elder D’Buren, who ignored him with studied disdain. There wasn’t much Lorren’s father could say or do to Errion, not when Errion’s father was a major shareholder in D’Buren Robotics. Once he was gone, Lorren’s father shook his head back and forth, his face a moue of disappointment. “Get dressed.” “No.” Lorren climbed to his feet, unashamed of his nudity or what he’d been doing. He wasn’t a child anymore but a man, and he would do as he pleased. “I will have you removed from this house.” “And Mother will drag me right back.” Lorren fished the defective pleasure hole out of the trash bin and slipped it into his satchel. He needed to examine the parts in detail to determine what had gone wrong. After a series of nonsensical grunts, Lorren turned to his father. “What?” “Will you please have her put her skirt down?” His father couldn’t bear to even glance in the direction of the maid. “She’s not a real woman, Father.” Lorren walked up to her and thumped her forehead, creating a gonglike metallic tone. He had to stifle a laugh when he thought the same thing would happen if he thumped Shyla’s head. With gritted teeth, his father deliberately kept his eyes off the maid until Lorren ordered her to lower her skirt. “Happy?” “You ungrateful—” His father cut himself off with a long-suffering sigh. “Shyla was utterly horrified. Congratulate yourself. You’ve scared her away for good this time. There’s no story that will explain away your perversions. Your mother is beside herself with shame.” Lorren doubted that very much. His mother delighted in his inventions, even if she blushed mightily at their final use. Shyla was his father’s choice for a suitable bride, mainly because of the rich, untapped resources of her father’s lands. Lorren was certain that a lucrative contract awaited their nuptials. A lifetime of boredom awaited Lorren if he acquiesced. Shyla was sweet but stupid. Painfully stupid. Like clonked-inthe-head-repeatedly stupid. She was so dull she made a conversation with a painting of a person seem scintillating by comparison. Every time Lorren had been in her presence, his brain cells committed suicide in an effort to bring him down to her level. A few more visits and he’d be too unintelligent to care.
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“What do you see in that indolent young man?” His father hesitated with an indrawn breath. “You’re not in love with him, are you?” Lorren considered the question. Before Errion had come into his life, Lorren had often felt left out or bullied by the other boys his age. Errion had been his protector, his confidant, and subtly they’d moved on to pleasure. Honestly, Lorren hadn’t given the matter much thought. He loved Errion as a friend, and he loved the things they did together, so if that’s what made up romantic love, then perhaps he was in love with his best friend. His father stood, arms crossed, waiting. “What if I am?” “You can hardly have children together.” “We’ll have robot children,” Lorren said smartly. “Start them out as babies and then age them into bigger bodies every few years.” “It’s not a joking matter!” His father’s bellow echoed inside the now mostly empty butler. “It’s also none of your business.” Lorren found his discarded pants by the chair Errion had settled into. Now he remembered—he’d taken them off to show him putting his dick in the maid’s mouth was safe. He chuckled when he thought the same could not be said about the butler’s butt. “Laugh now, Lorren, because you will remember this day for the rest of your life as the day I cut you from the family business.”
“Are you deliberately trying to ignore me?” Dressed in a smartly tailored hunter green suit that had men and women alike swooning, Errion sipped his drink, looking every bit like the civilized businessman he was. He’d even gone so far as to tame his bright blond hair off his face and out of his eyes. Lorren had to deliberately keep his hands to himself and not muss his hair into the normal style he wore. He looked good, but he didn’t look like himself. Errion’s natural state was slightly messy and ultracasual. This was the first time he’d seen him wearing shoes in almost half a turn. “No, my friend.” Lorren thought he looked just as devastating in his dark brown suit that enhanced his golden eyes and brought out the sun streaks in his shaggy brown hair. “I was remembering our testing of the prototype butler.” Errion almost sputtered out his drink. Once he swallowed, he tossed back his head and let loose a laugh that drew the attention of everyone near them in the crowded ballroom. “What a day that was!” Errion glanced over at one of the many maids in the room. “And to think we’ve only improved on their amazing mouths.” “Not that my father would ever allow anything so gauche in his home.” Snidely, Errion whispered, “Bet he has one behind closed doors.”
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“Naw, I think Shyla’s enhanced vagina keeps him well satisfied. That is, after all, why he married her.” Lorren frowned as he considered his drink. Why his father thought sex organs on a mechanical maid were disgusting but proudly told all within earshot of his wife’s enhancements was something Lorren would never understand. “Does it still bother you?” “That he took Shyla for himself? No. I never loved her.” To be honest, he hadn’t even liked her. “But that he threw over my mother for a girl less than half his age and one sixteenth of his intelligence is nothing but disgusting.” Errion nodded, which caused a few strands of hair to fall across his brow. “How is your mother?” “Fine. Pleased we’re moving forward with the new line.” Lorren owed his father a huge debt. Had he not disowned him all those turns ago, Lorren never would have had the nudge he needed to strike out on his own. Well, not totally on his own. Errion had opened his home, his wallet and even his oversize bed when Lorren arrived with only the clothing on his back and the damaged pleasure hole in his satchel. They’d worked together ever since, selling the enhancements as aftermarket upgrades. After a turn, they had the money to buy their own manufacturing plant; after another turn, they bought their own manor, and now, six turns later, they could afford just about anything they wanted. Sadly, Lorren still wasn’t happy. He was satisfied with his life. He enjoyed what he did, and his relationship with Errion was just as solid as ever, but there was something missing. Errion had suggested he was bored and needed a challenge. Lorren had gone on a series of holidays that included dangerous activities that took him far into the air or far below the water or to the extremes of temperature. He enjoyed the adrenaline rush, but he always felt a little hollow when he returned. Errion had then suggested conquering new markets, and that had satisfied him for a time, but eventually that too wore thin. The only reason they’d come to this event tonight was to try something different: philanthropy. Errion thought if they did some good by saving interstellar orphans, they would boost the company image and give Lorren something new to focus on. However, being back in his father’s home had set his mind down the path of memory. All the crazy inventions he’d tried here. All the times he and Errion had gotten caught in dalliances, usually together, sometimes apart, but always unashamed of what they’d done. Content was a word that clung to Errion, because in all their time together, Lorren had never known him to regret anything he’d ever done. Lorren tried to project that same satisfied image, and to the outside world, he succeeded, but inside second thoughts consumed him. He’d often lay awake at night examining all the possible outcomes to alternate choices.
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Errion told him his brain was simply too big and he should find a way to shut it off. Sex dampened his overactive intellect, but he could not spend his entire life in bed, no matter how Errion tempted him to do so. And then Lorren had discovered his deepest, darkest fantasy. He’d been utterly consumed. But like his first butler, something had gone horribly wrong. Even though forgoing his longings was difficult, he backed away, tucking his true nature deep down inside where none would ever see the beast again. For a time, he’d avoided sex of all types, but that was unsatisfactory. Lately, he’d fallen into a humdrum pattern of mediocre encounters that satisfied his body but left his soul untouched. A poor compromise, but the best he could do, and such transitory encounters were utterly harmless. Still, Lorren felt a destiny lingering just beyond his awareness. When he’d tried to tell this to Errion, he’d listened politely but eventually broke down into chuckles. “Destiny? Like those old tales about magic weapons and damsels in distress and that whole lot?” Errion flashed him that lopsided grin. “Come on, my friend, let’s find you a woman to take your mind off your troubles.” They’d found a woman that night and happily shared her. Lorren had never broached the subject again, but still he felt something within him waiting, and not leaning casually against a wall waiting, but crouched down and ready to strike waiting. He just wished he knew what it was he was waiting for.
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Chapter Two
Errion realized too late that attending a party at the D’Buren estate was probably not the best idea he’d ever had. Lorren seemed distracted, and he didn’t think the remembrance of that day in the study was to blame. A smile tugged hard at Errion’s lips when he wandered down that particular memory lane. What a day that had been! He’d never been one to think mechanical aids could ever substitute for the real thing, but Lorren’s invention had changed his mind. The maid’s mouth had swallowed his flesh into gooey warmth with just the right pressure, just the right undulating action along his shaft, and when he reached the pinnacle, she didn’t flinch back as so many young ladies had. No, the maid gulped his climax down eagerly. Spectacular didn’t come close to describing the feeling. Had he been more of a whimsical youth, he might have fancied himself in love with the maid, but Errion was too much a creature of pleasure to ever consider such nonsense. He loved sensual delights. No matter if they came from a man, a woman, or even a machine. He did not worry over love, as that was best left to dandies and poets. Errion concerned himself with gratification. He found going into business with Lorren to build pleasure enhancements a natural extension of his own temperament. His mind turned to later that day, with Lorren in the foyer of the Ald’Areed estate, his head down, satchel slung over his back, his face woebegone and tragic. Errion’s heart had broken to see his friend so downtrodden. But Errion knew just what to do. He took Lorren by the hand and drew him down to the cobweb-shrouded cellar, where old furniture and the mishmash of a hundred turns had collected. Together they cleared away the rubble, set up a table with the brightest lights they could find and the best tools they could salvage, and then they’d set to work. Meticulously they’d taken apart the ruined pleasure hole, but they were unable to determine the reason for the meltdown. They’d had far more luck with the defective slicker. When a combination of the ingredients in the slicker and Errion’s body lotion united, they turned into a rather strong adhesive that only alcohol could dissolve. High from the success of their discovery, they decided the only way to determine what went wrong with the butler was to retrieve him. Errion agreed, mainly because he wanted to retrieve the maid as well. In the dark of night, they’d broken into D’Buren manor. They found them where they’d left them, in the study. Apparently, Lorren’s father could not be troubled to clean up the mess, or he hadn’t bothered to order the servants to do so. Probably too embarrassed. Lorren suggested that his father would have had
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someone from outside the staff deal with the remains to avoid any hint of scandal. As if the servants didn’t already have enough to discuss what with the shenanigans the two of them had gotten into over the turns. Loath to activate the butler less he start wailing again, Lorren had the bright idea of having the maid carry him. Even though the maid looked delicate with her spindly golden arms and legs, she was capable of lifting many times her own body weight. Once she had the butler in her arms, carrying him in his kneeling position, Errion had gotten a case of the giggles that not even the threat of discovery could stanch. Lorren had been furious until he’d really looked at the blank-faced maid, her lower arms under the butler’s hips and chest, holding him out like an offering, and then he too had to smother his chuckles. Halfway across the verdant lawn, they’d been spotted, and his father’s guards had given chase, but the maid was fast, and Lorren and Errion could easily outrun a bunch of tubby old men who rarely had to do more than walk around the grounds. Still, the rush had been fantastic. Once they returned to Errion’s home and left the robots in the cellar, Errion had pushed Lorren against the nearest wall and kissed him hard and fast, adrenaline rushing through his body, making him tremble with excitement. They’d fornicated in frantic need, feeding off each other’s exhilaration until they dropped into two satisfied heaps of spent flesh. They’d been together ever since, building their empire, separate and apart from what Errion would inherit with the passing of his father. Unlike Lorren’s father, Errion’s father didn’t care one whit about Errion’s activities. He was far too busy building his business and rarely had time for his son. It had been over ten turns since he’d set foot inside his own manor house, effectively leaving Errion in charge. By the time he’d returned, Errion was long gone, snug in the palatial estate he and Lorren had built together. Errion’s mother had left shortly after bestowing him upon his father. Taking her lucrative alimony, she’d fled to parts unknown. Errion had never bothered to connect to her, nor she to him. For all intents and purposes, Errion was practically an orphan. Maybe that’s why he’d wanted to give money to the cause—he felt a kinship with all those abandoned children. Tonight had been another in a series of ideas to pull Lorren out of his funk. Nothing seemed to work, and Errion had tried just about everything he could think of. If he were a more creative man, he would fashion a quest of some kind that would fulfill Lorren’s dreams of destiny. Not that Errion grasped that odd need himself. He was content to do what he’d always done: live life each spin as it came, never worrying about tomorrow or yesterday. Errion lived for now. He could not decide what Lorren did. Sometimes Lorren lived so deeply in the past, Errion could not reach him, but other times he seemed so far in the future he was unintelligible. With a sigh, Errion considered his friend. Dashing in his deep brown suit, Lorren had chosen to keep his hair wild and untamed, with dark brown strands falling over his forehead and into his golden gaze. He’d forgotten to shave, which gave him a somewhat scruffy appearance, but a sophisticated kind of unkempt look. The ladies could not keep their eyes off the pair of them, but Errion was used to such attention,
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whereas Lorren never seemed to notice. If Lorren did notice, he always thought they were looking at Errion. Amazing how Lorren was oblivious to his own powerful allure. Men and women wanted either to surrender to him or to possess him. Despite her marriage to the elder D’Buren, Shyla could not take her eyes off Lorren for long. Every time Errion glanced in her direction, she was considering the man at his side, her expression wistful. When she caught Errion looking, she would startle, then frown, turning away with studied disdain. She wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all her husband, who glowered at his son as if he wished to confront him, but the rules of society held him back. To create a scene with his cast-out child in his own home would set tongues to wagging and reopen long-closed wounds. Besides, the elder D’Buren seemed to know that Lorren had no interest in Shyla. He hadn’t long ago, and he certainly didn’t now. And then, a miracle. Into the crowded ballroom walked a woman who drew every eye to her. A crimson dress clung to her caramel flesh, encasing her in sparkling fabric that caressed every luscious bit of her form. She had more curves than a coiled serpent, but hers looked far more deadly. Big breasts, a tiny waist, generous hips, and a face that was as stunning as it was unique. Her face was a long oval, her straight nose perfectly centered between dark, mysterious eyes. Her full lips balanced out the proportions of her visage, the dark berry color making Errion think of meticulously aged wine. Black hair was slicked against her regal head and gathered in a simple clasp at her neck. A man could lose himself exploring a woman that magnificent. “Now that, my good friend, is a challenge.” Errion spoke out the side of his mouth so only Lorren could hear. Errion knew he was on the right path when Lorren’s tongue slid to the corner of his upper lip. He always got that look when something, or someone, riveted his attention. To her credit, the woman had effortlessly commanded the interest of everyone in the room. Still, Errion rejoiced that he’d finally found a way to engage Lorren in something beyond his own incredible mind. Behind her and to her sides, twenty massive guards followed her into the room. They drew just as much startled attention as she, for they were dressed in curious short brown skirts with massive belts clipped with three deadly looking weapons. On their feet, they wore…sandals. Similar to the kind the ladies wore to sun themselves. However, the stout men were anything but ladylike. Muscles rippled along their exposed flesh. Hard eyes scanned the crowd, looking for anything or anyone who might be a threat to the woman they protected. “Who is she?” Errion wasn’t sure who asked, as several voices overlapped. “She is a goddess,” Lorren said, looking as if he would fall to his knees in worship. Errion’s joy evaporated. He wanted to set his friend a challenge, not send him into bondage, and the way he was looking at the mysterious woman in red, that’s what would happen if she so much as glanced at
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him now—she would own him. Mind, body and soul would be hers for the taking. Never had he seen Lorren so absorbed. Deliberately, Errion nudged him, jostling his arm and spilling his drink, but Lorren didn’t notice. A robotic maid unobtrusively came near, sucked up the drink with her foot and rolled away. Still, Lorren did not take his eyes from the woman. When his expression changed to glowering fury, Errion looked across the room. Lorren’s father greeted the woman with a deep bow. She nodded in return. When he tried to touch her hand and presumably bestow a kiss to the back of it, her brows condemned him a fool as she stepped back. All her guards stepped in. Lorren’s father retreated with his hands up. Clearly, touching her was not permitted, and Errion doubted any other man here would make such a foolish mistake. “I will have her or die.” Errion rolled his eyes. He was all for a challenge, but this was foolishness. Whoever she was, she undoubtedly had a string of suitors from which to choose. It was unlikely she would set her sights on two businessmen who specialized in pleasure unit upgrades for robotic servants. Errion had never been ashamed of what he did, but a woman like that married a king, not a man who tinkered with pleasure holes. And then his heart stopped beating when he realized exactly what Lorren meant. He would have her, not they would have her. Lorren wasn’t looking for an interesting bed partner for them to share; he was looking to make the annoyingly beautiful woman his for a lifetime. Destiny be damned, but it seemed after all this time, Lorren had found exactly what he was missing. With the capture of it, there would be no place for Errion. Now his heart beat triple time, making his hand tremble, causing his drink to splash within the glass. To avoid spilling it, Errion polished off the doublestrength brandy in one swallow. The fumes watered his eyes or maybe, for the first time in his life, he wasn’t as casual about his relationship with Lorren as he wanted to pretend he was.
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Chapter Three
Farjika could almost feel the eyes upon her as she made her grand entrance. Keeping her head high took tremendous fortitude as an overwhelming urge to turn and run possessed her, but she was a future empress. Fear was not what one showed to those of an alien world. Her mother had returned Diola to financial stability, but Diola had to break free from isolation. To that end, Farjika became a diplomat. She was here to bestow charitable funds but also to show the other worlds that Diolans were concerned galactic citizens. Many had heard of Diola, but they knew little about their true ways. Mainly people thought Diolans either worshiped odd gods and had warped notions about sex, or that they worshiped sex and had warped notions about gods. Neither was true, and that’s what Farjika was supposed to change: how the civilized worlds viewed her people. So far, all she’d done was convince herself that her world was the only truly civilized place in all the universe. Even here, with this show of graciousness and finery, she felt the perversity lurking below. All this was a façade to hide what these people were truly like behind closed doors. Not that Farjika could cast judgment upon others, not when her mother’s reputation preceded her. Many new acquaintances would peer at her, their brows lowered in concentration as they considered Farjika’s features. Something familiar, they would say. They would keep staring and thinking until they finally remembered. Then their eyes flew wide, their mouths dropped open and they hurried away. Farjika would be left standing there, drink in hand, guards at her back, her face a mask to hold back a rushing tide of embarrassment. Sometimes before they departed, they would remark how much she looked like her mother. Alternately proud and dismayed by the comment, Farjika would simply nod, hoping to convey gracious acceptance as she prayed to all the gods that the person would not elaborate on their remark. The populated worlds may not know Diola, but they knew of her mother. Empress Bithia was renowned, notorious, even, mainly because she’d restored Diola to financial stability by cunningly marketing images of her double bonding ceremony. Everywhere Farjika went there was someone who had seen the lusty images of her mother and her two consorts, one of whom, Drahka, was Farjika’s father. Determined to keep control of the images, Bithia had placed them on one-watch crystals, so that if someone wished to see the ceremony again, they had to buy another crystal. Bithia kept the prices low, thus discouraging copies of the copies, and they sold well. Even now, over twenty seasons later, the crystals were still in production. As good as this was for the coffers on Diola, it certainly didn’t help Farjika in her
Anitra Lynn McLeod
mission. She found it difficult to be taken seriously when all the men could think of when they saw her was mating with her. Offer after offer, each more depraved than the last, eventually set Farjika’s feet back on her spacecraft and turned her sights to another world. This world, Avalith, was peaceful, with huge homes called manors surrounded by humble thatched dwellings that reminded her of Diola. She felt comfortable in a place that had clear lines between the general populace and the wealthy elite, for that was how Diolan society was structured. “Welcome Farjika of Crimson House.” The owner, Master D’Buren, greeted her with a perfectly executed bow. She was pleased he’d taken the time to learn her customs. However, when he reached for her hand, she flinched back, which alarmed her guards and caused everyone in the room to startle. Thankfully, he backed off, and she realized he’d only been trying to kiss her hand. She felt awful for not remembering his customs but hoped he would forgive the small slight. All night she’d studied, but after spending two cycles learning their language, she didn’t have much time for the subtleties of customs. “I am honored, Master D’Buren.” Farjika smiled warmly as she turned to the woman at his side. “My wife, Shyla.” The pale woman with enormous blue eyes bowed awkwardly in her unforgiving skirt. Farjika nodded to her, wondering how she moved in such a confining outfit. When she looked about, she realized that all the women were dressed in a similar fashion—high-necked blouses, enormous sleeves that narrowed at the elbow then skimmed the skin down to the wrist, and skirts that were tight from navel to knee. All the women wore only the lightest pastel colors, which made Farjika stand out even more in her low-cut crimson dress. She had to forcefully remember that they did not delineate status by color as Diolans did. On Diola, the darker the shade, the higher the rank. As the daughter of the empress, she wore the deepest crimson. After some mindless chatter about the weather and her accommodations, Master D’Buren introduced her to his other guests, who seemed fascinated by her but kept their distance in deference to her guards. In a way, she was relieved. She did not like to touch so many people, especially not when their hands were too clammy or dry, or too hot or cold. There was a reason bowing predominated in her culture. Soft music filled the air as the lights dimmed, subtly drawing attention away from her as couples embraced. Curiously, they did not dance, and then she realized in the leg-clamping skirts the women could hardly do more than sway. Still, the familiarity soothed her but also made her deeply homesick. “Do you wish to dance?” When Farjika turned, the most stunning golden eyes confronted her. Never having seen eyes of a metallic shade, she parted her lips to say yes but then blanched at his brown suit. Only slaves wore brown. Reminding herself again that color did not have the same meaning here on Avalith as it did on Diola, she almost said yes until another man stepped up beside the first.
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Dark Empress
“Do. They. Dance. On. Your. World?” He spoke in a deliberately slow and loud manner, as if she were nothing but a simpleminded child. Where the first man was dark of hair and eye, this one possessed bright blond hair and crystal green eyes. His deep green suit expertly complemented his coloring. On Diola, such a dark color would indicate a very high rank, but not one higher than hers. A coldness filled his gaze, a slow-burning hatred that she did not understand, for she had never met the man. How could she slight him without contact? Tilting her head as if she did not understand him, she leaned close and whispered, “They dance on my world, but the men have far better manners.” His face hardened as his companion’s transformed into a proud smirk. “Shall we?” she asked, lifting her hand to the man in the dark brown suit. He nodded, clasping her hand in his. Farjika swore she felt a sizzle from his touch. All of her senses cut to acute awareness. He placed her free hand on his shoulder, then slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her snuggly against him. He handled her as if he owned her, a thought both frightening and tempting. Even in her heels, he was taller than she. To maintain eye contact, she had to tilt her head back. His body was firm against her, his chest a wall of muscle unyielding against her breasts. When she drew in a breath, she took in his essence: exotic and unique, his fragrance unnamable but thoroughly intriguing. Despite the tailored suit and all the trappings of civility, she knew below he was as wild and untamed as the highest slopes of the Onic Mountains. Sun-streaked hair partially obscured his gaze, and his new beard cast shadows against his features, darkening his expression, giving him a raw, primitive appeal. “How long are you here?” His voice rumbled in his chest, which in turn hardened her nipples. Instinctively she pressed closer, inadvertently bringing her lips nearer to his. She opened her mouth to answer but hesitated when she tried to remember how to convert her time units into his. In the end, she decided it didn’t matter. She would stay as long as she pleased. Coyly, she asked, “How long would you like me to stay?” With a slight growl, he tightened his arm, pulling her closer still. Their clasped hands were pressed between their bodies, keeping them from full body contact, but she didn’t need confirmation to know he was hard. She felt the heat of him penetrating through the thin fabric of her dress. Her panties, made of the finest astle, were wet and hot, slicking against her flesh each time they moved. “Forever.” For a moment, she could not recall what question of hers he answered. When she did, she smiled playfully. “I can hardly stay forever with a man I do not know.” Even though they were in a room full of people, she felt utterly alone with him. “I am Lorren D’Buren.” He nodded in lieu of a bow. “Your father is—”
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“Yes, but you should now tell me your name.” A sore spot there, between Lorren and his father. She wondered over it briefly, then dismissed her curiosity. She would not probe his parental issues if he left hers alone as well. “I am Farjika, daughter of the Crimson House, heir to the throne of Diola.” She had said those words a hundred times; however, this was the first time she actually wanted them to impress. Why she cared what he thought of her she couldn’t fathom, but still, she wanted him to realize she was a woman of great import. Even though inside she often felt like a child playing at adult roles that she still didn’t fully understand. Slowly, he smiled as if he’d known but longed to hear her speak the truth. “And I thought you were simply a goddess.” A wave of pleasure washed over her. “The way you look at me, I feel as if I am.” A naked goddess. She barely noticed that the music had changed, along with their movements, but one thing she could not shake from her awareness was the man in the green suit. As they danced, he stared hard at them, his handsome face thunderous, his wide shoulders curved in, his whole body poised as if in readiness to pounce. “Who is that man who continues to glower at us?” Lorren didn’t even bother to glance at him. “My friend, Errion. He’s jealous.” “Of you or me?” She honestly did not know as his gaze raked over the two of them with equal ferocity. “Both?” He shrugged nonchalantly but would say no more. Again, curiosity consumed her. Picturing the two of them together tightened her nipples and slicked her panties even more. Deliberately, she forced the image of the two of them with her from her mind. She would not become her mother. However, there was nothing wrong with engaging in a brief encounter with this man. One good thing about her travels through the universe was that she could leave her troubles behind her at any moment. Should her assignation with him not be satisfactory, she could simply fly away without repercussions. “Errion, Lorren… Your names are very similar.” “Avalith is driven by trends. At the time of our births, names with double consonants were in vogue.” She thought that also explained why all the women wore the exact same style of dress, hair, and even faces. Somewhere in her reading, she remembered a passage explaining that the women of Avalith would undergo facial reconstruction surgery to match the current fashion. Right now, big eyes, pert noses and thin lips must be in style. All the women in the room had those same features. Rather than feeling separate from them, she was pleased to be unique. Farjika couldn’t imagine altering her face or body to follow a trend. “I have never heard a more unusual or beautiful name than yours.” Softly he whispered, “Far-sheekuh.” His mouth was so close she could taste his breath, rich from some type of alcohol. She wanted to taste the source. His firm lips would feel strong against hers. She imagined his tongue would penetrate hard, taking possession of her mouth with masculine power.
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Dark Empress
“I thank you.” She nodded to him. “I am named after the first empress of Diola, Farjika the Dark.” She waited for him to ask the obvious question. “Why ‘the Dark’?” Taking the opportunity to lean closer, as if the answer were a secret, she softly said, “She was a fearsome warrior. It is said she beheaded her enemies with one swing of her mighty sword. Their blood coated her, turning her skin dark.” His eyes sparkled. Unlike many men, he clearly found the image of a warrior empress intriguing. “What else do you know about your namesake?” Farjika paused dramatically. Deliberately, she met his gaze, then lowered hers as if she were slightly ashamed to reveal the rest. She wasn’t, but it made excellent theater. “It is also said that she had over a hundred consorts.” Lifting her gaze back to his, she added, “And she kept them all personally satisfied.” Lorren smiled wickedly, displaying a devastating smile that transformed his face from harsh to handsome. “They should have called her Farjika the Busy.” Returning his smile, she said, “Or Farjika the Exhausted.” His laugh rumbled his body against hers, making her think of the pleasurable grumble of her ship. There were times, late at night, when that low vibration worked its way into her dreams, bestowing intense orgasms that left her breathless and filled with unnamable longings. Here, in her arms, she thought she had found the answer to her cravings. “How many consorts do you have?” Though he tried valiantly to hide the truth, there was an edge of jealousy to his voice. He drew her just a bit tighter, as if determined to keep her all for himself. Pleased by his possessiveness, she lowered her face but lifted her gaze, knowing exactly what that cast of her head did to a man. “I have no consorts.” She knew she’d successfully hit her mark when he inhaled sharply, then exhaled an animalistic grunt that surged feminine satisfaction over her nerves. “It has not been that long since my Harvest.” One eye narrowed in question. “Harvest?” The word translated into his language was similar in meaning to the word in Diolan: a gathering of ripened crops. But there was another meaning unique to her planet. “By the prophecy, I gave my virginity to the Harvester.” Demurely, she glanced down, toying with the top button of his stiff shirt. Mesmerized, she watched his throat work as he swallowed. When she looked up, his hungry gaze locked on hers as he licked his lips. “Every woman must do so when she is eighteen seasons old. Afterward, she is a citizen with full rights.” Lorren appeared to want to ask a question, but he was too aroused to fully engage his brain. Leaning near, placing her lips a breath from his, she whispered, “The Harvester is the only man I have ever known.” Carefully, she slid their clasped hands away from his chest. “Sadly, during the ritual, I could
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not feel anything.” She pressed her body the length of his, closing her eyes on a gasp when she felt his cock press into her belly. “I imagine a man like you has had many, many lovers.” Lorren said nothing, only stared down at her, his pupils wide, his nostrils flared and his breath harsh as he struggled for control. In the end, he lost the battle. Lowering his head, he kissed her, so softly at first his lips were only a whisper against hers, but when she parted her lips, surrendering to him, he grew bolder, plundering her mouth, crushing her against his body as if they were alone. But they weren’t. With a shuddering breath, he pulled back, his golden eyes turning molten with heat. He said something in his language, something dirty and dark and dangerous, but she knew she would do anything he asked. Farjika would blame her impulsiveness on alcohol but she’d not had a drop. She felt reckless and out of control, her body’s demands taking precedence over her own safety. She’d waited a lifetime to find this intense attraction, and now that she had, she would take her due. “Are you ready?” She nodded. He let go of her and reached into the front pocket of his trousers. She didn’t know what he did, but a moment later, all the robotic maids daintily lifted their skirts, and all the mechanical butlers dropped to all fours, baying like wounded animals. Shocked gasps and fainting women filled the air with dramatic sounds. Confusion reigned. Lorren grabbed her hand and pulled her away. He took her from the crowd and up a narrow, dark staircase. Clearly, he knew exactly where he wanted to go as he strode toward a tall, thin wooden door. Pushing it open, he pulled her within, then closed the door, pressing her against it, leaning into her. His lips found hers in the dark with unerring accuracy. Hot and heavy, his cock pressed into her belly, making her wet, causing her to moan with longing. His hand grazed her hip, feeling along her leg until he found the split in her dress that allowed her to walk without hindrance. Pushing his hand under the fabric, pulling it up as he sought the juncture of her thighs, he growled low and long when his fingers brushed against her soaking panties. “As if there was any question I was as aroused as you?” she asked. “Mine is obvious; yours was hidden. Until now.” Tugging the fragile fabric down, he forced his hand between her legs. Something came over him then, a choking gasp of shocked pleasure when he discovered that she had removed all the hair from her sex. Hissing expletives between clenched teeth, he yanked his hand away and twirled her toward something in the dark. She landed awkwardly on what felt like a couch, her legs splayed, but that’s what he wanted as he knelt between them, pushing her dress up as he ripped her panties off. Once he had her exposed, he placed his massive hands against her knees, spreading her wide. His rough beard scratched the tender skin of her inner thighs as he drew his face up between her legs.
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He took a deep breath of her, moaning out against her slick sex. Her senses were overactive, causing her to swear she could feel each individual hair on his face, each particle of his breath, and the very depth of his painful need to be inside her. All her lonely nights, the feverish dreams that would not let her find peace even in sleep, now came to life. Here was a man who wouldn’t let her lofty title stand in his way. Lorren was a man accustomed to taking what he wanted, and he wanted her. Teasingly, he used his scruffy beard, his fingertips and his breath to torment her into breathless pleading. Forgetting herself, she begged him in Diolan to bury his face between her legs. After a moment, she realized he couldn’t possibly know what she was saying, but it didn’t matter. He understood from the tone of her voice what she so frantically beseeched him to do. So long had she waited to feel a caress there that did not involve her own hand, she thought she would die if he didn’t touch her fully, and soon. Murmuring softly of her beauty, her luscious scent, he finally drew his face close, then, without warning, he plunged his tongue into her core. He tamed her instinct to lift up by gripping her hips and pinning her down into the couch. Holding her captured effortlessly, he swirled his tongue around her clit, forcing the hood back, exposing the tender flesh to the roughness of his tongue and then his scruffy chin. Her cries filled the room, echoing the pace of his movements. She blessed the dark for hiding her from him, because in her frantic need she was convinced she would look unbecoming. No lady would be caught with her dress pushed up, her panties yanked off and her legs wantonly spread for the wicked ministrations of a man she hardly knew. Darkness let her relax and be just a lusty young woman and not the future empress with the reputation of her world upon her shoulders. Grasping his head, she twined her fingers in his hair, marveling at the smooth silkiness of the strands. All through their dance, her fingers had itched to push his hair away from his eyes, but she hadn’t, as the gesture seemed far too intimate for such a public place. Again, here, in the dark, she could do as she pleased, so she combed his hair back with her fingers, loving the noble feel of his brow. Of course, what he was doing to her was far from genteel. Base and animal, he ravished her. All her wicked dreams came to life in this velvet blackness. Just as she neared the crest, her orgasm rising up from the tips of her toes, charging to the center of her core, someone pounded on the door. She didn’t have to see through the wood to know the fist belonged to one of her overprotective guards. From the power of the pounding, she guessed Gabriyel, the captain of her men. Damn him to the nothingness, but Gabriyel was the most vigilant killjoy ever. Farjika was convinced her father had chosen him to ensure she didn’t have one moment of fun. Worse, Gabriyel seemed to think any form of pleasure was shameful and beneath her elevated self. To her maid, Farjika had snarked that Gabriyel probably had no genitals of his own, so he refused to let anyone else have fun with what he didn’t have.
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All the glorious pleasure washed away in panic at the thought of Gabriyel discovering her sprawled out with a man between her trembling thighs. Just as swiftly, fury filled her with the righteous indignation of a goddess. She had a right to privacy. She had a right to have one moment to herself without him interfering and protecting her from something she didn’t need protecting from! Farjika screamed a command at him, telling him that if he or anyone else dared to open the door, she would have them put to the stone. After her outburst, the silence seemed deafening. To her horror, she realized she’d just made a terrible impression on the man she was hoping to bring back to her bed. What man wanted a demanding, bellowing shrew of a woman? “Did you just threaten to kill him with one blow of your mighty sword?” Lorren’s voice was silky soft, his question whispered against the tenderest part of her inner thigh. Laughter erupted, dissipating her fury. “No,” she whispered playfully, placing her hand on the top of his head, subtly pushing him down, “but that is what I will do to you if you stop.” For a moment, she thought he would resist, because clearly he was a man who liked to take charge. However, he smiled against her thigh as he moved his face back toward her hungry sex. Nuzzling his nose against her frantic clit, he murmured, “Beautiful goddess, I obey your command with pleasure.” One benefit to having her guards at the door was that they would not let anyone else enter this room. Even the master of the house would be compelled to wait on her leisure. Never before had Farjika used her position in such a way, but if ever she should, this situation demanded such arrogance. Then she realized she was treating Lorren as if he were a slave. “Lorren, I’m—” Before she could finish her apology, he silenced her with a deliberate twirl of his fingers and tongue, causing her breath to catch in her throat. “One man?” “What?” Keeping his face close, he slid his finger in and out, maintaining her arousal but not letting her climb any higher. “You’ve only ever been with one man? And that was at the behest of a ritual?” She nodded, then realized he could not see her in the dark. “Yes. Only one man. The Harvester. Does it matter?” Farjika had heard of cultures where men demanded virginity in their mates. Confused because she wanted only to fornicate with Lorren, not take him as a consort, she tried to pull her legs together. “Don’t.” Gripping her inner thighs, he pushed her legs apart. “You said you felt nothing?” “I was numbed by oil, as was he.” Such was the nature of the Harvest ritual. “So, in a way, I would be your first.”
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Dark Empress
She considered the odd question, baffled as to why it would matter. However, her answer ceased to concern her when Lorren increased the pace of his torment. His finger slid easily in and out of her lustslicked passage as his tongue swirled around her clit, his lips drawing the bit of flesh into his mouth. Higher she went, her body growing taut, her muscles straining, and then she hit the peak, but he kept on going, pushing her higher still. Just when she thought she could take no more, a stunning, breathstealing climax washed through her. Lights flashed behind her closed lids, dazzling her, blinding her in the darkness. Slowly, so slowly, she returned to the couch, the room and the magical man between her legs. Now that she’d touched the land of the gods, she knew she would do anything to return. Cupping his chin, she pulled him up as she leaned down, hungry to taste herself on him, desperate to feel his cock take the place of his talented finger. All her frenetic maneuvering was wasted as he easily held her from manipulating his body in the direction she wanted. “No, Farjika.” He kissed her softly but held himself back from further contact. “I cannot claim you here.” Tenderly, he pulled her to her feet, holding her firmly when her legs wobbled on her heels. “I want to take you to a place fit for the goddess you are.” He sighed as he pulled her into his arms. “Indulge me, please. I want your first time to be special, not a frantic coupling.” He took a very slow, deep breath, then whispered, “I simply cannot merge with a woman like you in my father’s back study.” With that simple, genuine declaration, Lorren stole her heart. All her life she’d waited, longing for the moment when she would feel the magical spark that would tell her she had found the man who would become her first consort. What he’d said earlier was prophetic—Lorren would be her first. If she had her way, he would be her only.
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Chapter Four
“Isn’t that just like a goddess.” Errion peered down at the bulge in Lorren’s lap. “She gets hers but leaves you wanting.” Lorren glanced down at his still painfully hard erection, then turned his gaze out the carriage window. As they rolled along the bumpy road, he watched the thatched roofed houses go by, illuminated only by the light of the quarter moon. They would have been home much faster had they taken advantage of the proffered aircar, but Errion insisted on taking a horse-drawn carriage. Repeatedly, Errion had tried to pull him into conversation, but Lorren didn’t feel like talking. Oddly, he felt content. His demanding body was in need, but he ignored the clamoring almost effortlessly. Waiting for the perfect moment with Farjika was a pleasant torment. “So, what was she like?” Errion had swiped a bottle of liquor during the chaos. He sat taking swigs, his mood darkening with each swallow. “Does your goddess have a tight little slit?” Frowning at his unnecessary vulgarity, Lorren yanked the bottle from his grip. He almost laughed as he read the label. “Opvver double-distilled brandy.” The same thing they’d drunk that day during the prototype testing. Lorren took a swig, loving the way the liquid warmed him all the way to his belly. That Errion had stolen it from his father simply added to his enjoyment. “Why did you take her to that room?” Errion took the bottle back, his expression sullen. Lorren shrugged. He wasn’t sure why he’d taken Farjika there. The study was just the first place that came to mind. “It was close.” “And you couldn’t wait.” “No.” Gritting his teeth, Errion drained the last of the bottle, then tossed the empty on the floorboard. Each time the carriage bounced, the bottle skittered along the carpet. Absently, Lorren tucked it under the seat with his foot. Errion mumbled something under his breath, something crude and demeaning about sluts in red dresses. “What is your problem?” Lorren considered him in the semi-dark. The shadows elongated Errion’s face. His formerly perfectly pulled-back hair was now in tangled disarray around his hooded eyes. His shirt was undone, revealing a deep V of tanned chest. At any other time, Lorren would have teased him right out of his nasty mood, but he didn’t feel up to the task. Tonight, he wanted a peaceful ride home, then a night
Dark Empress
of fanciful dreams filled with claiming the lovely Farjika, daughter of the Crimson House and heir to the throne of Diola. Just thinking of her tormented him anew. He’d been subtly licking his lips, taking her taste into his mouth, loving her flavor, longing to have her spread open before him again. The shock of her shaved sex had been almost too much for him to bear. He’d never known a woman to be hairless there. Finding her so had been a delightful discovery that offered up such sensitive skin for his lustful ministrations. Farjika writhed and panted at the softest stroke. Lorren barely managed to hold himself back from climax each time he imagined sliding his cock against that slick smoothness. Even now, with just the scent of her on him and the thought in his mind, his cock twitched. He tugged at his trousers, trying to loosen them, as they suddenly felt far too confining. “Why didn’t you include me?” The thought had never crossed Lorren’s mind. Over the years, they’d shared a handful of women, but they’d had their singular trysts as well. Their bed partners had never been an issue. Until now. “You were rude to her without reason,” Lorren explained. “I thought you weren’t interested.” That sounded like a good excuse, but it wasn’t actually true. Lorren hadn’t asked because he hadn’t wanted to. He wanted Farjika all to himself. He’d never been a selfish man, but with her, he couldn’t imagine magnanimously sharing her with anyone, not even his best friend. Just the thought of her in another man’s arms inflamed him. His heart pounded, his palms grew sweaty and his muscles tensed as if ready for a fight. In that moment, he realized she was what he’d been missing. The overwhelming sense of waiting was gone now that he’d found his target. However, a new tension overcame him—a burning need to protect what he considered his. “You don’t know anything about her.” Errion slumped in the corner between the back of the bench seat and the wall of the covered carriage. “Whatever she told you was probably a lie.” Taking the opposite corner, Lorren met the challenge in Errion’s eyes. “Why do you care?” Not that he thought anything she’d said tonight had been a lie. They hadn’t exchanged that much information, and there was such sweet honesty in the depths of her mysterious black eyes. Farjika seemed too young to be jaded or deliberately obtuse about anything. Errion turned away, hiding his face in the shadows, using his hair to obscure his gaze. “I don’t care.” “You do.” Lorren leaned forward, peering intently at his friend. “Ever since we were children, we’ve shared our highs, our lows and everything between. Suddenly, you’re beyond angry with me.” Lorren paused, his brows lowering ominously. “You want her for yourself.” Errion released a grunt of annoyance but refused to face him directly. He shook his head as if denying the accusation to himself, but he couldn’t quite manage to deny it to Lorren. “If you go near her, I’ll—”
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He never finished the threat. Before he knew it, Errion was on top of him, pinning him into the corner and locking his arms at his sides. His breath was hot and heavy with the scent of brandy, his body hard, coiled with tension. “I don’t want her—I want you.” Errion kissed him hard, his mouth possessive as his hands yanked him down flat on the wide bench seat. “I want you to look at me the way you looked at her.” Struggling to keep him on his back by using the weight of his upper body, Errion simultaneously worked at freeing him from his trousers. His hands were rough, bumping into Lorren’s aching cock with his frantic fumbling. “I want you to make those same sounds that she made for you.” “I knew you were the one who sicced her guards on us.” There was no other way they could have found them out of the hundred rooms in the manor. Errion tossed his hair out of his eyes triumphantly. “So what if I did? I got my punishment. I had to sit outside that door listening to you pleasuring that harlot. All her guards were there too, their cocks bulging below those odd little skirts as they heard her greedy whimpers. I wonder how many of them she’s spread for?” Lorren knew Errion flung the rude words to goad him into a fight, but there was something else there too, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. All he knew was that Errion was thoroughly, frantically livid. More so than Lorren had ever seen him. Worse, he didn’t seem to want to hear anything that Lorren had to say, because every time he opened his mouth, Errion slanted his lips over his, kissing him silent. He hadn’t been this unrelenting in ages. Lorren felt overwhelmed between a longing to give in to his friend and a new need to suffer erotic torment for Farjika. Voice harsh against his lips, Errion swore, “By the time I’m through with you tonight, you won’t even remember her name.” Lorren struggled but only halfheartedly. He understood now that Errion was afraid there was no room for him in Lorren’s life now that he’d set his sights on Farjika. That wasn’t true. Lorren couldn’t imagine an existence without Errion. But now he wanted Farjika too. And he didn’t want those lines to cross. Conflicted by the need to have two people, separate and apart, Lorren surrendered to Errion’s angry kisses, which only spurred him on. Powerful in the grip of his righteous indignation, Errion tugged at the edges of Lorren’s trousers, ripping the buttons away as he freed his cock. Once he had him bare, Errion leaned up, his gaze riveted to the pulsing tool he’d exposed. “You want me?” Lorren challenged, reaching down between their bodies. Cool night air rushed over his skin but did nothing to dampen his need. “You don’t want me, you want this.” Lorren grasped the base of his cock. “You can’t wait to wrap your lips around my prick.” Growling, Errion lunged for him, pushing his hand away as he took his throbbing cock into his mouth without hesitation.
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Jerking up from the bench at the shock of heat, Lorren grabbed the back of Errion’s head, forcing himself deeper, loving the feel of his throat closing around his shaft. Digging his fingers into Lorren’s ass, Errion lifted him up, rocking him into his hungry mouth. In public, they presented themselves as the perfect gentlemen, civilized, urbane and droll, but behind closed doors, they were dirty animals. Violent in their needs, wanton in their lusts. Aggressive words poured from Lorren’s lips as Errion’s tugged at his cock. Vulgar and vicious, he egged him on, demanding more, ordering him to suck his prick like the eager little cocksucker he was. “You wanted to taste her on me, but she isn’t there. I didn’t mount her.” Lifting up, Errion snarled, “I tasted her on your lips.” “She’s practically a virgin.” One corner of Lorren’s mouth lifted in a smirk. “I’m saving that special moment. I’m going to go so slowly into her she’ll be thrashing and screaming for completion.” In his mind’s eye, he could picture Farjika with her carefully smoothed black hair a tangle as she thrashed below him in begging need. Yanking his pants down, falling back as he pulled them off and the carriage hit a large bump that sent him into the edge of the opposite bench, Errion rose up, his own pants loose around his hips, his cock thrusting proudly out from his body. From his pocket, he withdrew a small tube of slicker and took his time coating his cock. “Don’t think you’ll get the same consideration from me.” Forcing Lorren’s legs apart, Errion planted his tip against Lorren’s ass. Without pause, he slid deep, ramming himself all the way to the hilt. Lorren arched up, meeting his thrust, hissing a breath through clenched teeth. The pressing fullness felt so good he wanted to howl. The last time they’d fornicated with this raw frenzy was six turns ago when they’d returned from stealing the maid and butler robots. They’d taken turns penetrating each other, trying to outdo each other with ever more creative positions and raunchier talk. In the end, they both won. A satisfied body was the only prize they’d been competing for. Insatiable and frantic, Errion pounded against him as he gripped Lorren’s hips, pulling his body down to meet his upward thrusts. There was an undeniable violence to his possession, something that pleased Lorren’s pride. That he could still send his friend into such crazed need after all these turns was exhilarating. As the carriage bumped along over the road, Errion used each jostle to his advantage, working his cock deeper, until Lorren could take no more. Clenching his body tight, he gripped Errion’s cock, forcing him to hold still when he longed to continue plunging. Growling with frustration, Errion ordered him to relax his muscles so he could continue his frantic fucking.
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Taking his own cock in hand, Lorren held Errion captive, making him watch as he stroked himself. Breath coming in short pants, Errion watched for a moment, then oozed slicker over Lorren’s hand, lessoning the friction so he would last longer. “You always did like to watch.” Lorren eased his hand up and down, his gaze on Errion’s shadowed face. Leaning back so more moonlight illuminated Lorren’s display, Errion clung to the back of his knees, his attention so intense Lorren didn’t think he would notice if the fields they passed were aflame. “Are you thinking of me inside you?” Deliberately, Lorren clenched his fist to the tip of his cock then forced his fist down as if he were doing so to Errion’s ass. Pushing his hands away, Errion grasped Lorren’s cock in his hand. “I’ll tell you what I think.” Leaning over him, using the smooth flat of his belly in conjunction with his hand, Errion rode him as he stroked him. “I think you are thinking of her hot little cunt wrapped around your cock while I’m filling your ass. That’s what I think.” Lorren closed his eyes, letting the image fill his mind. Lovely Farjika straddled across his hips, their lips hungrily kissing while Errion filled his tight channel. “That’s it. Picture her above you, and each time I plunge, her breasts bounce.” Lips tight over his teeth, Errion continued. “Grab her lovely tits with your hands and twist her nipples. I want to hear her moan.” Inadvertently, Lorren moaned as he imagined Farjika would, which sent Errion into a frenzy. He rocked so hard as he pressed Lorren’s cock between his hand and belly that Lorren came almost in selfdefense. His climax spurred Errion’s, and he ended with one last hard push to bury himself to the limit, pumping everything, all his rage and frustration and longing, into Lorren. Breathless, Errion collapsed against Lorren’s chest, Lorren’s rapidly deflating cock snug between their two bodies. Lorren cupped Errion’s head, stroking his hair back from his face as he lifted his chin. Wary suspicion replaced the smug triumph that normally lurked in Errion’s gaze after a rousing fuck. As Lorren drew him close and kissed him, he wondered how he would ever find a balance between Errion and Farjika.
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Chapter Five
Mollified somewhat by Lorren’s surrender in the carriage on the way home, which was why he’d insisted on the slower form of transportation, Errion still couldn’t shake a feeling of impending doom. What had he been thinking? That they would stay bachelors and live together forever? Frankly, he’d never given the nebulous future much thought. Still, it wouldn’t be easy for Lorren to walk away. Their lives were almost inextricably entwined. Everything they owned, they owned together. The manor, the manufacturing plant, the multitudes of property and resource plats—all of it they jointly possessed. No, Errion consoled himself, Lorren wouldn’t be walking away anytime soon, not unless he literally walked away from everything. Errion’s heart clutched. Wrapping his arms more snugly around Lorren, he pulled him closer, loving the smell of his body in the dark, the way his rough body hair tingled his own relatively hairless flesh. Normally they slept apart, but he’d agreed to stay with him tonight, probably because Lorren felt sorry for him, but Errion didn’t care. He’d take a pity snuggle right now. Sadly, having him close wasn’t helping him sleep at all. What made everything even crazier was that when Errion had kissed Lorren and tasted Farjika on his lips, he’d been shocked to discover that the taste of her aroused him. Furious, Errion had tried to push the thoughts away, but he’d been unable to. He did not want to lust after that woman. Not when she would take his best friend away, and not when Lorren clearly considered her his and his alone. Besides, she hadn’t looked twice at him after the horrible first impression he’d made. Farjika was out of his reach and he knew it. Still, he’d pulled her image into his tryst with Lorren tonight, using her to arouse not only Lorren but himself as well, because he could see her atop Lorren, with Lorren’s massive prick buried between her caramel legs as Errion drove himself deep into Lorren’s tight ass. Her fanny would plush around Lorren’s hips, her waist looking impossibly small from the back. Errion saw himself grasping her waist and using her as leverage to slam into Lorren. When he pictured her lifting her hands above her head, offering up her large breasts to Lorren’s willing mouth, Errion had climaxed in a great gushing tide. Just thinking of her now brought his erection back to life. Rolling away from Lorren, he fumbled in the nightstand and traced his fingers over the prize he’d claimed earlier. So silky soft, the crimson panties practically melted under his fingertips. Errion couldn’t explain why he’d taken them, only that he’d seen them on the study floor after Lorren and Farjika had departed. He’d grabbed them and stuffed them into his
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pocket almost absently, almost as absently as he’d slipped the tube of slicker in there before he and Lorren had left the manor for the charity ball. Lorren loved to tease him that he never left home without a small tube of their top-drawer slicker. Errion always defended himself with the fact that he never knew when some wild ride would come his way. Being prepared was prudent. Anal sex without lubrication was a dismal affair indeed. In addition, the smartly designed tube held a condom, another prudent necessity for a fleeting tryst. Only with each other did they dispense with such an essential. As Errion fingered the panties, he wondered if Lorren would have taken Farjika without protection. Lost in lust, he might have been so overwhelmed he would have simply forgotten. But then again, perhaps not. Lorren had been emphatic about savoring her slowly. Errion had called her a slut and intimated that she willingly spread for her guards, but in his heart, he knew that wasn’t true. She was as Lorren said: practically a virgin, which only made her even more appealing. Farjika was moldable where a more experienced woman would be fairly set in her ways. What thoroughly captured Errion’s attention was thinking about all the innumerable ways that he could mold her. Usually, as soon as Errion captured the gaze of someone, he could read deep into their soul and uncover their hidden lusts. Sometimes the person was unaware of their most longed for fantasy. Instinctual fear had held him back from looking deeply into Farjika’s unusual gaze. What had initially unnerved him was that her black eyes were filled with crystal green shards that matched the color of his eyes. Disconcerting. So much so that he hadn’t been able to look beyond the surface. While Lorren had showered, Errion had done a quick study on Diola, learning a bit about their Harvest ceremony. If all she’d ever known was the touch of the Harvester, she was basically an untouched lover, because all the Harvester did was penetrate a woman once, claiming her virginity. It was a curious ritual, one that inadvertently aroused him when he saw himself as the Harvester. Shirtless and shaved, he could visualize a panoply of virgins spread out in a row waiting for his straining prick. He was less aroused when he realized neither he nor the women would feel anything at all. Both parties were smeared with estal oil, a substance native to Diola that deadened any tactile sensation. Giving her virginity wasn’t about love or lust, it was simply an ancient ritual. Errion had wanted to delve further into the curious culture of Diola, especially the blurbs about a unique erotic motion capture, but Lorren had emerged clean and sleepy, crooking his finger and pointing to the bath. Errion left his searchbot on high, then washed up quickly and joined Lorren in bed. Per usual, Lorren fell asleep within moments of his head hitting the pillow. Errion, on the other hand, ruminated for hours before sleep finally claimed him. When he woke, Lorren was gone, probably off for his daily bout of physical exercise. “He does work so diligently to maintain his physique.”
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Lazily Errion stretched, feeling a mild twinge of guilt that he did not have to work so hard to preserve his form. For a while, he stared up at the ceiling medallion, letting his gaze wander over the highly ornate plaster design of blooming flowers and intricate curlicues. Unlike Lorren’s overtly masculine room, with its heavy wooden furniture and somber colors, Errion had chosen light cream for his bedroom walls and deep hunter green carpet for his floors, and a mix of the two for his bedding. A strategically placed freestanding mirror across from the bed confirmed that the colors enhanced his blond hair and green eyes. Sadly, this morning, the mirror also revealed the apprehension lurking in his gaze. Determined to wipe the unwanted emotion away, Errion left his bed behind, grabbed his robe, which his robotic butler had conveniently left at the foot of his bed, then padded his way through the manor to the kitchen. While the cook made his breakfast, Errion read over the information gathered on his office flat. Diolan culture revolved around sex, more so than any other culture he’d ever encountered. And yet Farjika seemed so…pure. The dichotomy only intrigued him further. And then he uncovered the shocking way in which Diola had become a galactic financial powerhouse. Was Farjika’s exterior just a façade? Was she like her mother underneath? Determined to find out, Errion made his plans. By tonight, if he were right, his worries would be over.
Errion had spent the entire day planning for Farjika’s arrival, setting everything just so. But as soon as Errion entered the foyer, he knew he was in trouble. Farjika stood there, a crimson garment painted on, her breasts artfully displayed by the crisscross of fabric that crafted the strapless bodice of her gravity-defying dress. Clinging cloth wrapped around her narrow waist, flared at her hips, then a skillfully pleated skirt flowed down her seemingly endless legs. Fathoms of fabric buried her from the hip down, but when he looked at her, all he wondered was if she wore panties or not. Fragile little panties like the pair Lorren had ripped from her last night. Sweet-scented panties like the ones he’d stolen and had hidden in his nightstand drawer. If he could go to the source of her wicked scent, he could die a happy man. “Welcome Farjika, daughter of the Crimson House and future heir to the throne of Diola.” Errion bowed deeply, hoping he’d mastered the exact inflection of her native language. Using the obscuring lengths of his disheveled hair, he watched her face. When her eyes widened and a genuine smile lifted her lips, he knew he’d succeeded. Returning his bow, Farjika said, “You honor me greatly, Errion Ald’Areed.” She impressed him with proper pronunciation. Rarely did offworlders hit the exacting nature of his demanding name, yet Farjika did so with a seemingly effortless ease. For a moment, he stood nonplussed, as he couldn’t take her wrap as she had none, and there was no point in introducing her to the robotic butler who rolled away in his determination to fix drinks. He was saved when the closed door behind her opened a crack. Farjika turned.
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Errion’s mouth fell open. Her hair was swept up into a complicated pattern that reminded him of knotted rope. The back of her dress plunged into a V with the point on the area right above the split of her generous bottom. Below Errion’s loose fitting trousers, his cock rose, pressing forward with a vulgar display of lust. Never had his arousal embarrassed him, but with her, he was mortified that the smallest exposure of bare flesh had this astounding effect on him. To hide his shame, he pulled the edges of his long jacket closed, effectively covering his erection. Farjika spoke quickly and softly to someone, then determinedly closed the door. She faced Errion, chagrined. “Gabriyel, the captain of my guards,” she explained, lowering her face but lifting her gaze. “He informs me they have the manor surrounded.” As if she realized how awful that sounded, she quickly added, “They will not come inside, not unless I call for them.” Face flushing pink below her caramel skin, Farjika murmured, “I don’t think I will need them this night.” Her gaze met his with a delightful combination of lust and innocence. “No, my lovely one, I do not think you will need them tonight.” Errion proffered his arm, and she looped hers through, placing her hand against his, the heat of her palm only aggravating the problem in his pants. “I confess, Master Ald’Areed, that I thought you did not like me.” Her voice was soft yet filled with confusion. “Last night at the charitable event, you seemed to think me an ignorant barsita.” “Barsita?” he asked, deliberately drawing her closer, taking a breath of her exotic scent as he felt the soft plush of her breast against his upper arm. Whatever the ingredients of her perfume, they were unknown to him. Intriguing. Errion oversaw the perfume aspect of their business and yet Farjika embodied a plethora of scents he couldn’t name yet longed to sample. After a brief pause, she translated, “One from another world.” Errion nodded politely. “You may be from another world, but you are hardly ignorant.” Confusion collided her brows, adding depth to her striking face. No makeup, no surgery, no nothing but her own self did she present. No wonder Lorren was enamored of her. Unlike the women of Avalith, Farjika was naturally beguiling. She refused to place a bid for perfection according to the predetermined fashions. Errion wouldn’t be surprised if by her visit she changed the trend to darker skin and richer fabric tones. “Tell me, my lovely one, what do you hope to accomplish here on Avalith?” Errion knew the question was a light one. Any visitor would have a stock answer ready to spew out to satisfy any who asked, yet Farjika actually considered his question. Lifting her gaze to capture his, she softly informed him, “My world is isolated. We have been so for many hundreds of thousands of seasons. I hope by coming here, to Avalith, and donating a large portion of
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funds, to show the galactic community that we are concerned with our brethren. That we wish to break free from our self-imposed seclusion.” Errion wanted to capture her mouth, cutting off her words long before she could finish speaking them. Not only was she utterly lovely, but she was kind and sweet. Worse, she had a conscience. She wasn’t just repeating words she’d been told to say, she honestly believed in what she said. Red flashes of warning went off behind his eyes. This woman was dangerous. Farjika truly could sway Lorren from any path he might be on, and she could do it without much effort. Farjika was a woman who could steal a man’s soul without intention. Raylor’s bursting balls, but she’d effortlessly stolen Errion’s attention and yet seemed utterly unaware! As he drew her into the main room, her gaze slid around, appreciating the paintings, sculptures, rugs and the furniture. She finally settled her gaze on Errion. “I am impressed by your estate. You clearly have a unique turn toward art.” He nodded, offering her a drink, which she cupped lightly in her hand. “How long will you stay on Avalith?” She took a sip to give herself time to think of her answer, and he realized she honestly didn’t know. Her hesitation worried him. His gut told him her stay depended on what happened with Lorren. “I find I am intrigued by your planet. I would like to stay and learn more about your culture even after my official visit has come to a close.” As she spoke, he noticed she kept taking surreptitious glances at one sculpture in particular. He had to work hard to suppress a lusty grin. “Where are you staying?” Casually, he maneuvered himself across the room until he was standing near the life-sized rendering of an intricately bound woman. Between her parted legs, a man thrust deeply into her. The woman’s head was bowed in submission; however, her face was still visible as her hair was drawn away. The man’s head was flung back in ecstasy, his lips peeling away from his teeth with an artfully captured snarl of possession. “I am staying in my skip.” When he tilted his head, she offered, “A small planet-safe ship while my larger spacecraft remains in orbit.” She took another sip of her drink that turned into more of a gulp when she drew her gaze away from him and the erotic rendering. “Master D’Buren graciously offered one of his fallow fields to station the craft.” “Lorren’s father is always so generous with visiting dignitaries.” Usually so he could finagle an exclusive marketing contract for his robotic servants. Wouldn’t he be surprised when he realized Diola had no desire for mechanization? “Is something wrong?” Darting her gaze to the entwined figures, then away, she whispered, “Are all of your statues so explicit?” Errion laughed.
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Her head stayed low as her gazed traveled up. She seemed unsure if he were laughing at her or at what she’d said. “Explicit?” He chuckled as he slapped his hand to the man’s muscular ass. “He’s fucking her as she wishes.” Eyes widening at the vulgarity, Farjika cupped the fragile glass, which trembled in her hand. He could tell she struggled with the idea of whether she should say something or not. In the end, her curiosity got the better of her. Darting her gaze around to ensure they were alone, she asked, “If she wants him, then why is she bound?” The woman’s arms were artfully tied behind her back, and she used them to leverage herself up. Her legs embraced the man who had his head back in the throes of release. Lowering his gaze, pinning her where she stood, Errion murmured, “She is bound because she finds pleasure in giving control to the man.” Softly, he asked, “Haven’t you ever let a lover tie you up?” Farjika’s gaze met his, her pupils dilating. In that moment, he saw the hunger in her eyes. A dark hunger for something that Lorren would never give her but Errion could. Before she could answer, he deftly removed his jacket, tossing it casually on a nearby chair. “I would think a future empress would be well schooled in the art of lust.” He turned, giving her an excellent view of his bulging trousers. Pleasure rippled across his tense muscles when she looked down then quickly away. Slowly and deliberately, he looked at her chest, making sure she saw him looking. He noticed her nipples pressed tightly against the fabric, twin bits of tightened flesh. “I understand that on Diola, sex is practically your religion.” “That is not true.” She frowned at what he’d said. Her displeasure deepened when she noticed the way he was looking at her. Setting her drink upon the closest table, she said, “Sadly, many seem to think that it is, but I assure you—” “How did it feel when he slid his tongue into you?” Caught off guard by the question, she sputtered in shock, then turned her gaze around the room again. “Where is Lorren?” Running his finger down the rope that bound the woman’s breasts, he murmured, “He’s a little tied up at the moment.” He could tell that Farjika was trying to determine if he were being literal or not. “I think I should go.” Her skirt flared around her legs as she spun toward the door. “Without a word to Lorren? That’s hardly courteous behavior,” he scoffed, continuing to stroke the rope that trailed down the woman’s torso. The metal felt cool below the heat of his hand. “Especially after all the trouble he went to for you.” She stopped in midstride, apparently thinking over what she should do. He’d hit his mark well; she did not wish to appear ungracious or rude, not to the object of her affection.
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Frankly, he didn’t mind getting another look at the back of her dress and her hair, which was startlingly similar to the rope on the statue. Farjika would look exquisite bound, and binding would only heighten her awareness of her body. Already he could picture how he would drape the silk rope around her frame using various lengths of crimson cord that would highlight the color of her skin. Deliberately, he would place the knots to give her the greatest pleasure. To have her bound and at his mercy was such a heady prospect, he couldn’t stop thinking of the ways he could pose her. Of course, if he acted on his cravings, Lorren would kill him. “Lorren will join us shortly.” Errion had carefully arranged the evening so that he would have a chance to be alone with Farjika. He tossed off his drink and set the empty aside. Crossing the parlor, his bare feet silent on the thick carpet, he moved until he was standing right behind her. Glancing over her shoulder, she drew a short breath. “What are you doing?” Touching her with only his breath when he hungered to do so much more, he said, “I’m admiring your dress.” Goose bumps washed along the backs of her arms. “Did he slide his finger into you?” She closed her eyes, her lips parting with shock, but then she asked, “Why are you doing this?” “Because I’m curious.” Fearing that she might bolt, he placed his hands gently on her shoulders. Not holding her but reminding her that she should stay. “Tell me how good it felt to have him on his knees, worshiping you with his mouth.” She shook her head in denial, but he could see her nipples straining against the fabric of her bodice. Standing this near, he felt her heat rise, giving off more of her delightful fragrance. Slowly, carefully, he maneuvered her around until she faced the erotic statue while he stood behind her. “Look at her face.” Lowering his lips to the edge of her ear, he whispered, “Look at the pleasure she derives from submission.” Pressing his cock against the split of her bottom caused her to gasp, but she didn’t move away. “Even bound, she strains to meet his thrust.” Trailing his hands from her shoulders to the top of her dress, he slid his fingertips along the edge of the fabric that encircled her chest. Involuntarily she arched, pressing her breasts up to meet his touch and forcing her bottom into closer contact with his cock. Her firm softness through the layers of fabric was far more arousing than actual contact could ever be. Errion took a deep breath to steady himself. “Tell me the truth, Farjika, you’ve never thought about being bound before tonight?” “No.” Her answer came out swiftly, forcefully and almost defensively. “But now, it’s all you can think about.” Her lips parted in automatic denial, but she closed them ever so slowly, her head shaking back and forth, her delicately arched brows lowered in confusion. “Imagine yourself as that woman.”
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Her gaze went instinctively toward the statue. “Silky rope binds your arms behind your back, putting you at the mercy of the man before you.” He hesitated then decided he would have only one chance to plant the seed, so he forged ahead. He grabbed her wrists before she could react and pulled them behind her back. When she dropped her head, exhaling a long whimpering sigh of surrender, she said more than words ever could.
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Chapter Six
Farjika considered struggling, but painful curiosity froze her to the spot. Errion’s hands were surprisingly soft against her wrists, his skin hot but not sweaty, as if he were perfectly at ease holding her prisoner. She, on the other hand, trembled, couldn’t catch her breath, and feared that her palms were soaking wet. Her mind whirled with possibilities, one of which was that Lorren was watching to see what kind of a woman she really was. For some perverse reason that thought only highlighted her awareness of her own body and made it impossible to move away. “I would never hurt you,” Errion whispered. Rather than reassuring her, his words actually increased her tension, because she already knew that he would never hurt her. She didn’t know how, exactly, she knew this, other than from a deep, instinctual level. Errion did not relish inflicting pain. What he savored was meting out torment until she gave him what he wanted. In a battle of wills, she wasn’t so sure she could prevail against such an experienced competitor. Errion was the opposite of Lorren in so many ways. Danger encircled Errion like a cologne, where a romantic heroism embraced Lorren. The two men were as different as night and day, making her wonder how she’d become ensnared by both of them so quickly. Effortlessly, she’d submitted to Lorren, and now she seemed to be doing the same for his…friend? Business partner? Exactly what was the nature of their relationship? “I think you should let me go.” Her voice didn’t even sound like hers. Wispy and fragile, she sounded like a terrified servant and not the future empress of Diola. Desperate to regain control, she straightened her shoulders but couldn’t summon the strength to lift her head. “You think?” Errion chuckled directly into her ear as he took her bound hands and cupped them against his cock. “Tell me more about what you think.” Her brain stopped functioning at the feel of his heat, his hardness and his absolute assurance that she wasn’t going to do anything unless he told her to. “I think you want to submit to me. I think you would do just about anything to feel my cock plunging into your tight cunt.” She shivered at the vulgar word, excited that he had no hesitation when he spoke. Calculated and commanding, his voice smoothed from her ear to her neck, then to her nipples. Once there, his voice fell
Anitra Lynn McLeod
straight and true to her throbbing clit. Errion didn’t need to bind her physically, not when his voice had such a mesmerizing effect. “I think that you are just like your mother.” Her eyes flew open wide, and she yanked out of his grasp. When she turned, he was standing with his head down, his gaze locked to her like a predator. Nostrils flared, lips parted slightly, he was ready to pounce upon her, and there was a part of her that wanted to surrender. With force, she fought down the urge to lift her face and expose her throat to him. “I’m nothing like my mother.” A knowing smile slid across his features, transforming him into something far worse than a hungry beast. An animal would kill her for food, but a hunter like Errion wouldn’t consume her flesh; no, he would stalk her until he possessed her soul. Errion wanted exactly what she’d been about to give him: submission. “What do you think Lorren would make of this?” Errion held up a fingertip-size something or other that was completely foreign to her. Her bafflement must have shown on her face. Narrowing one eye exactly as Lorren had done last night, Errion considered her confusion for only a moment. “This is a copy of Diola’s most profitable export.” Fighting down the automatic blush that longed to creep up her cheeks, Farjika lifted her head, and with just as much predatory malice, she smiled back at him. “I think Lorren would find the images as arousing as do so many other people in the universe.” Actually, the thought of Lorren watching her mother then touching her turned her stomach, but she’d be damned to the nothingness before she’d let Errion see her revulsion. “However, if you have already watched that crystal, then I’m afraid you will have nothing to show Lorren. My mother sells only one-watch images.” When his smug certainty melted away, she felt triumph, but he quickly regrouped and tried another path. “Your mother markets herself and your fathers, and you have no shame?” Grasping frantically now, he seemed determined to find something to hold over her head. Perhaps he feared that he could not enthrall her without both a psychological and literal bond. She would rather die than admit that he needed neither. Just the idea of what he wished to do to her excited her, attaching her to him in some inexplicable way. Shrugging delicately, she considered the man before her. His cock pressed against the loose fabric of his dark green trousers. He’d unbuttoned his cream shirt, exposing a length of tanned chest. Disheveled blond hair fell across his wicked gaze, softening his intensity, but not by much. Farjika doubted that anyone had ever considered Errion tame. Despite a few tricks that she’d carefully collected in her sparse seasons making a presence throughout the galaxy, she knew she was no match for a man of his ilk. “Why should I have disgrace over something I did not do?” Nodding to the statue of the bound woman, Farjika added, “Would you blame me for her actions too?”
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Three long strides brought Errion to a position standing before her. He wasn’t much taller than she was, not when she was wearing her heels, but he was tall enough to force her head up to maintain eye contact. “I blame you for coming unwanted into my life and upsetting everything I thought I knew.” Lifting her face to the angle of his, Farjika deliberately tormented him by keeping her eyes locked on his while she slowly lowered her face. Just like Lorren, he reacted to the visual with a sharp intake of breath and a tensing of his body. Now she understood that to Errion, what she did was a confusing mix of confrontation and submission. “I apologize, Master Ald’Areed.” She closed her eyes, then slowly blinked them open. “I never meant to cause you any stress by my presence.” He didn’t hesitate. Errion grasped her shoulders, hauled her against him and kissed her so thoroughly she lost whatever defiant posture she’d strived so desperately to maintain. Melting into his embrace, clutching his shoulders, she allowed him to wrap his arms around her and grasp her buttocks, forcing her body against his, forcing her to feel the threatening weight and heat of his cock. Binding her might intrigue him, but she wondered if he could actually refrain as long as such a scenario would take to enact. When he released her, his breath was rough and hot against her skin. His fingertips still dug into the flesh of her bottom, but he’d deliberately put some distance between them. She suspected he did this more for his benefit than hers. “I thought a dominant man had self-control.” Her gentle chastisement didn’t faze him. “When I have you bound, I will have control.” Truth filled the depths of his compelling green gaze, alternately frightening and persuading her. “Too bad you will never have me in such a subservient position.” Stepping back, she adjusted her dress. Calmly, she bent over and grasped her empty glass. When he moved toward her, she thrust the cup out to him. “I’d enjoy another.” Trapped by the false veneer of civility, Errion took her glass and turned to the mechanical butler patiently waiting. As he dispensed fresh drinks, she heard someone enter. When the newcomer called out a cheerful greeting, she knew Lorren was home. To her surprise, she felt an odd mix of relief and disappointment. Relief that Lorren was here and would protect her from Errion’s lust, but also, she had to admit, there was the faintest twinge of disappointment that her highly charged tryst with Errion was at an end. Farjika vowed that from this time forward, she would never be alone with Errion again. Errion seemed to read the declaration in her gaze. He smiled, telling her that just as she was determined to stay away, he would do everything in his power to get her alone again. If he did, she had no doubt that he would have her. Errion would bring her to her knees, bound and begging.
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Her gaze darted to the erotic statue. If ever she were alone with Errion again, he would do to her what that man did to that woman. Gods help her, but she feared that she would let him. With the frozen figures burned forever into her mind, she turned her gaze toward the entryway. There, in a decadently rich black suit trimmed with sable brown, stood her salvation. Flipping back a hank of dark hair, Lorren rushed to her side. “I’m so pleased you could come.” Chastely, he kissed her cheek, filling her lungs with the scent of his subtle cologne and workaday sweat. “I apologize for my delay.” He flashed a glance to Errion, who calmly met his gaze. “Unavoidable issues magically appeared just as I was leaving.” Accusation laced his tone. She had no doubt that Errion had kept Lorren busy just to get her alone. “How unfortunate.” Errion sounded anything but upset. He held out a glass to Lorren, who accepted the drink with a courteous nod that further conveyed his suspicion. “I trust Errion kept you entertained?” Lorren sipped his drink, his gaze darting between them. Farjika was certain she heard an edge to his voice, one that questioned Errion, not her. With a gracious smile, she nodded to Errion. “Your friend is a most delightful host. He has learned some of my language and several juicy tidbits about my home planet.” She strongly hoped that would take the power from the punch Errion wished to deliver with the revelation of what her mother had done to restore Diola financially. It wasn’t the first time she’d encountered such a superior attitude, but she swore she would never again suffer a bit of shame for something she hadn’t done. “Your mother is a most compelling woman.” Errion delivered the comment, then sipped his fresh drink. “Honestly, Lorren, you would be shocked by the liberties she allowed.” Farjika felt her entire body flush. Errion was not speaking of her mother, but of her, and what she’d let him get away with just moments ago. Refusing to rise to the obvious challenge, she turned to Lorren and lowered her voice. “I think Errion means to embarrass me.” Lorren cast a suspicious glare at Errion. Before Errion could say anything, she rushed on. “When my mother became empress of Diola, she was horrified to realize that our coffers were empty. Not only empty, but we owed large debts to several powerful worlds.” Lorren sipped his drink, his attention on her, but his golden gaze could not seem to stay on her face, not when she deliberately clutched her glass, holding it between her breasts, subtly drawing his attention there. “In my culture, an empress undergoes an elaborate bonding ceremony.” She lifted the glass to her lips, drawing his gaze to her face for a moment. “Marriage, I believe you call it here on Avalith.” Lowering the cup now to her waistline, she explained that many attendees captured the event and then watched the images for their own enjoyment. “When the technology became available, they started trading these stolen moments with others far from Diola. My mother decided to capitalize on the curiosity of outsiders. She began to sell the captured images directly.” Returning the cup to her mouth, she polished off her drink as she looked right into Lorren’s eyes. “She single-handedly returned Diola to a prosperous planet.”
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While she held Lorren’s attention, Errion’s gaze drilled into her so forcefully she almost winced. She was taking away everything he thought he could use to drive a wedge between her and Lorren. Curiously, she didn’t think he wanted to drive her to his side so much as he simply wanted her away from Lorren. Perhaps her initial reaction was true; these two powerful men shared much more than friendship. The way they looked at one another, spoke to one another, even the way they had behaved together in this room, considering each other like wary animals sharing the same cage, gave her pause. “And Errion thought I would be offended by this?” Lorren turned to Errion as he loosened the strip of fabric around his neck. “I thought you would find it interesting.” “I do,” Lorren acknowledged. His face seemed to say that what he found interesting was Errion muddling about in affairs that didn’t concern him. The twinkle in his heated gaze said he was curious about the nature of the product. Farjika’s heart sank. He would want to see the images now, and she would never be able to look at him the same if he did. “I am fascinated by your mother’s boldness.” Lorren tossed the slim black strip on the couch, unbuttoned his shirt two buttons and then turned to her, offering out his arm. “I do believe our meal is ready.” Gratefully, she looped her arm with his, marveling at how similar he was in height and strength to Errion. But for their hair and eyes, and the subtle differences in their faces, the two men were amazingly similar. Had she not known better, she would have thought them twins. Lorren ushered her into a lovely dining room filled with glossy dark furniture, crystal chandeliers, and tall windows now dark with nightfall. An enormous table with high-backed chairs dominated the center of the room. One end was set with three place settings. Lorren deposited her in the chair to his right, while he took the head of the table and Errion took the seat to his left. She tried not to fidget with the arrangement. Standard seating on Diola would have had her centered on the longest side of the table with one man on her right and one on her left. That way, she could maintain separate but equal conversations. This way, she was forced to speak with both men simultaneously, a situation guaranteed to be troublesome. Especially if the mischievous look in Errion’s gaze was any indication. Somehow, between the parlor and here, he’d managed to undo more buttons. His cream shirt hung open, exposing a good portion of his chest and his muscular abdomen. As he settled himself in the seat across from her, he did so slowly, working his muscles, tensing them to show them off. She hated herself for not being able to look away. Thankfully, Lorren didn’t notice her reaction because he was watching Errion’s display as well. “It’s an informal dinner, but still, it would be pleasant if you managed to keep your shirt on.” Lorren removed his jacket, passing it to a maid. His black shirt clung to his chest and somehow drew her attention
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more fully because she could see he was just as muscular, but having the fabric between her scrutiny and his actual flesh was far more enticing. And that’s when she grasped another difference between them; Errion was brash and bold, putting everything on display, whereas Lorren was subtle and discreet, keeping everything concealed. “It is on,” Errion immediately defended, looking right at her. “I’m not showing any more skin than our lovely guest, am I?” The question served a dual purpose; it drew attention away from him, allowing him to stay half clothed, and both men had an opportunity to admire the low-cut nature of her crimson dress. Lorren’s eyes turned molten as they slipped over the bodice that gracefully held up her breasts. His attention caused her nipples to harden, which elicited twin sighs of pleasure. When she looked at Errion, his eyes were blazing intently as he studied not her but Lorren. All of them were distracted by the delivery of the first course. For a time, eating took up the space of conversation. What little they did say was centered around the food; her questions as to what the delicacies were and where they were from, the men’s answers with anecdotes about the first time they had sampled many of the treats heaped upon her plate. The excess was as familiar to her as home. On Diola, every gathering was an excuse for the palace overseer to show off the skill of his cooks, so intricate food and long-fermented drinks covered the serving tables. Farjika had learned to sample small bites and tiny sips so she could taste everything. Lorren had moved his chair closer to her, turning it so that he faced Errion more fully, and she wondered why he would pay more attention to him than to her. While sipping an intriguingly dark and sweet drink, she felt a hand upon her thigh. Both Errion’s hands were on the table, one around a drink and the other around an eating utensil. Besides, his arms were simply not that long. Farjika shared a quick glance with Lorren, then relaxed into the smooth stroke he made along the outside of her leg. Only by gripping the cup with both her hands was she able to withhold a deep sigh of pleasure. Now his maneuvering was clear. Just as she’d postulated earlier, Lorren kept his exploration hidden, doing it below the table and out of Errion’s sight. Lorren’s hand was warm, strong and very deliberately headed toward the juncture of her leg with her hip. Just as she began to melt and part her thighs, she felt another touch, this one on her foot. Her gaze flew to Errion, who lifted one corner of his mouth in a smirk. He had slumped down in his chair, stretching his legs out under the table toward her. She felt his flesh against hers and realized he’d removed his shoes at some point during the meal. His big toe made a leisurely journey up the top of her foot then to her ankle. She almost flinched away, but if she did, Lorren might think she was moving away from him, so she stayed still, trapped between the two men. Ever so slowly, Lorren’s hand worked up her thigh as Errion’s foot slid up her leg. Instinctively she clenched her legs together, eliciting a concerned frown from Lorren, who almost removed his hand but for
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her small headshake and the deliberate relaxing of her tense muscles. That was all the incentive Errion needed. With expert ease, he slid his foot between her calves and up to her knees. Forcefully he planted his foot against the seat of her chair. When she looked up, his smile vanished and a challenge rested in his eyes. Her breathing grew shallow as Lorren continued his journey. Once he traced his fingers along the edge of her panty line, he smoothed his big hand down. If he kept going, he’d eventually realize Errion’s foot was between her legs. Time spun out, freezing her in a confusion of conflicting thoughts. Would Lorren blame her for Errion’s aggressive foot placement? Would he and Errion fight? What if both of them became so enraged, so primitive in their ire, they claimed her in a frenzy of lust, making her become her mother, who couldn’t be satisfied by one man? In a panic, she dropped her glass, deliberately splashing the dark purple liquid across the table and onto Errion. Sputtering an apology, she shot to her feet, dislodging both Lorren’s hand and Errion’s foot.
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Chapter Seven
Cool air washed along Lorren’s palm with the loss of Farjika’s hot flesh. Her thigh had trembled and tightened under his touch, exciting him, reminding him that she was inexperienced despite the way she carried herself. Last night as he’d fallen asleep, he vowed he would make tonight special for her. If she wasn’t ready for his bed, he would wait, but the fire in her gaze when she’d seen him told him that she wanted him with the same intensity that he longed for her. They shared an instant lustful attraction that could be assuaged in only one way. As Lorren stood, assessing the damage, he wasn’t sure exactly what caused her to drop her drink. Her frantic apology was unnecessary, as the liquid had barely splashed him and everything on the table could be easily cleaned or replaced. However, when he looked over, he discovered Errion’s light-colored shirt didn’t fare so well. “It was an accident, my lovely one, nothing to worry about.” Errion stood and removed his shirt, showing off his perfectly shaped chest. Wide shoulders tapered down to lean hips and powerful legs. If Lorren didn’t know better, he’d swear Errion had planned the whole thing to have an excuse to remove his shirt. He’d practically taken it off earlier when he’d unbuttoned it and pulled the cloth free of his trousers. When it was just the two of them, Errion frequently wandered about naked, which didn’t bother Lorren in the slightest, but he’d never been like this in front of a guest. Farjika was staring at Errion, her eyes wide, then she turned and blurted, “I think I should go.” She practically ran out of the dining room. Lorren shot daggers at Errion, then followed in her wake. Errion came along right behind him. “It was nothing, honestly. Errion has a hundred shirts.” Lorren stopped Farjika with a touch to her shoulder. She whispered something in her native tongue, the sound as beautiful and exotic as she. He clasped her hand, surprised that her skin was cold, her fingers tense. He couldn’t believe this reaction had anything to do with the spill or Errion’s ruined clothing. She had clenched her hand into a fist as if she were on the verge of fight or flight. “Isn’t that right, Errion?” Lorren glanced back at his now bare-chested friend. Perhaps what had unnerved Farjika wasn’t his above-the-waist nudity but the bulge in his trousers. Lorren’s suspicions that Errion wanted Farjika for himself returned vigorously. “Indeed,” Errion supplied automatically. “I have a multitude of shirts, so the loss of one is no bother.”
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Under his breath, Lorren hissed to Errion, “Why don’t you go and put one of them on now?” Errion’s only answer was a dirty smirk that aggravated Lorren to no end. Never, not once in all the turns of their relationship, had Errion ever deliberately sabotaged one of Lorren’s dates. Unfortunately, he didn’t have time to ponder the issue now, not if he were to salvage the night with Farjika. “I thank you for your gracious hospitality, but I wish to return to my skip.” Even before she spoke, Lorren knew the evening was over. He never should have left her alone with Errion. Lorren would have been here long before her arrival but for an amazing series of coincidences that trapped him at the manufacturing plant far longer than he’d intended to stay. Whatever Errion had done in that short span of time had unnerved her. After the interlude in the carriage last night, Lorren should have known Errion would go out of his way to ruin his plans. “Then I will take you there myself.” Lorren was determined to ensure she was returned to her quarters safely. Errion opened his mouth, but one glance from Lorren made him shut it. Lifting his hands up with palms out as a show of surrender, Errion turned on his heel and left the parlor. A great deal of Farjika’s tension dissipated with Errion’s disappearance. She took a trembling breath, then released it as she relaxed her shoulders. As much as he enjoyed the back view of her amazing crimson dress, what with that plunging V delicately balanced just above the cleft of her bottom, Lorren turned her gently, his hands to her shoulders, until she faced him. “Please forgive me. I don’t know what Errion did, but I fear his actions tonight have distressed you.” Flipping back a hank of dark hair from his gaze in what he thought was a boyish gesture, Lorren let go of her and plunged his hands into the pockets of his pants. “Errion doesn’t intend to be uncouth. He simply adores attention, whether it be good or bad.” Meeting her gaze, he was amazed to discover something decidedly wicked deep within her eyes. The darkness vanished so quickly he wasn’t sure he’d seen the shadow at all. To his surprise, she said nothing; she simply stepped close, tilted her head and placed her lips against his. Soft, the contact caused his arms to move around her, but he contained his passion, holding her gently. He feared a stronger grip would cause her to bolt. Slowly, the tenor of her kiss changed, becoming bolder. When she parted her lips, he waited for her to slip her tongue to his first. After a timeless moment, she did, and he used every scrap of self-control he possessed to hold still. For whatever reason, she needed to come to him, to claim him, not the other way around. Lorren found the idea of being chased immensely exciting. Over the turns, women had pursued him, but they’d been experienced and their purpose not on his pleasure but his wallet. To have the relatively innocent Farjika hunt him was heady indeed. Plastering herself to him suddenly, she clutched his head, her fingers threading through his hair, holding him close for her lustful exploration of his mouth. Lorren did not recall ever being kissed so
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passionately, almost forcefully, as if Farjika were determined to prove to him she was not afraid of whatever Errion had done. Her tongue encircled his, branding her taste upon him as thoroughly as she had done with the delightful flavor of her sweetly salty cunny last night. Innately, he understood that she needed to set the pace, so he let her, even though all of his instincts clamored for him to take her into his arms, carry her to his bed, toss her upon it, rip the dress from her, then thrust his cock into her tightly gripping sex. This close he could smell her perfume, the exotically unique fragrance making him harder than he thought possible. As she kissed him, she shimmied against him, pressing her body so tightly to his he could almost feel the fragile line of her panties against his cock. When she lowered her hands to grasp his buttocks, he refrained from growling, but only barely. However, when she clutched him against her, grinding her hips against his, causing the fabrics between them to rub dangerous friction along his shaft, he couldn’t contain himself any longer. Growling like the animal she’d reduced him to, he clasped one hand to her head, his fingers ruining the elaborate hairstyle as his other hand clasped her bottom, lifting her against him, forcing her into closer contact, but he knew with these clothes on they could never get close enough. “I want to be inside you.” She pulled her head back, her mysterious eyes considering him from her lowered face. “Inside me?” Impossibly long lashes gave her gaze a sweet innocence that he longed to shatter with his body. Tracing her finger along his lip, she said, “Tell me exactly what you want.” Unwilling to frighten her, he smiled and lowered his lips to her ear. Softly he whispered, “I want to slide my shaft where my tongue went last night.” He thought this made his point in a sexy but inoffensive way. “Say it harder.” Despite what she asked for, he was hesitant to speak in raw, vulgar terms, lest he inadvertently frighten her away again. “I want to bury my cock in you.” Pulling back, looking right into his eyes, she harshly demanded, “Harder.” Lorren grasped her face with both hands, holding her still for his searching gaze. He felt it then, that darkness within rising up, seeking an outlet. Tightening his grip, he forced the hunger back into the farthest corner. He would never do that to Farjika. He couldn’t do that to her. Cruel longings could vent within the borders of his mind, and they could invade his dreams, but they could not own him in the harsh light of rational thought. Lorren was the master of himself. He wasn’t bound to act on something primitive and base. Lorren prided himself on the fact that he’d stopped the first time things went wrong because he couldn’t bear the ramifications of a second disaster. Staring now into Farjika’s guileless eyes, holding her beautiful face, he
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wasn’t sure what she wanted to hear, but he would tell her an acceptable version of what he wanted to do to her. Something that he hoped was what she was looking for. Placing his mouth a breath from hers, he said, “I want to tear this dress off you until it’s nothing but rags at your feet. Then I want to push you back into my bed, force your legs apart and bury my tongue in your slick cunt until you come and come, until you can’t take anymore.” He pulled back enough so that he could look right into her eyes. “And then I’m going to make you beg for my cock. I’m going to slide the length up and down your still-hungry slit until you’re practically in tears with need.” Pausing, his prick twitching at the fire in her gaze, he finished, “Once you are sufficiently frantic and convinced that I will never complete our union, I will then fuck you until you scream.” Lorren threw out a prayer for the fortitude to do what he’d said he would. He feared that once he got her devastating dress off, he would be the one on his knees. A gasp slipped out from between parted lips as she closed her eyes, capitulating to his needs. That’s when the shadow clarified. That’s why she feared Errion. He’d probed her fragile psyche and discovered her fierce need for domination. She must have been terrified that Errion would pounce upon her and bend her to his will. She wanted him, Lorren, not his friend. Where the idea of Errion possessing her terrified her, the thought of Lorren dominating her only caused excitement. “Take control of me.” As she lowered her head to his shoulder, subtly exposing the slender length of her neck, he felt a shot of pure adrenaline galvanize him. All his senses narrowed, focusing on her. His mouth watered and his nostrils flared. Hunger gnawed at him, terrifying in its intensity. He swore that he would never again play that kind of bedroom game. Aggressive sex was as far as he could go, but hard domination was something he did not trust himself to engage in, not after he’d lost control and hurt his partner. A dominant never, ever lost control. If that’s what she needed, then she was far safer in Errion’s command than his. Closing his eyes, Lorren lifted his hands to push Farjika away, but instead, he cupped her breasts. Heavy and so hot, the twin bundles of flesh filled his hands to overflowing. Hard nipples pressed into the center of his palms as she arched forward, her breath tasting of all the decadent treats they’d sampled during the meal he’d designed to impress her. He took a deep breath to steady himself but swore he drew in the essence of her slick and needy sex. Lorren tried to pull away, but he couldn’t. Pressing her breasts tightly together, he lowered his head and bit the mounds that swelled over the edge of her dress. Farjika clutched his shoulders, holding on to him as he ravaged her chest. Peeling down the bodice, he exposed the edge of one areola. Nibbling and nuzzling until her hard nipple begged for his lips, he waited for her whimper before he rolled the fabric down, freeing her entire breast. Twisting her taut nipple between fingers and thumb, he licked the flesh wet, then blew out, cooling the nub, tightening it further. “Lorren.”
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Her voice was a whisper, a sigh, a begging plea. “I don’t want to hurt you.” He dared to speak his greatest fear. “You won’t. I trust you.” Cringing, he lowered his head to her covered breast, resting his face against her as he tried to understand how she could dare to trust him when she didn’t know him. Again, he tried to send her away, to remove her as a temptation, but his brain told him one thing while his body said another. In the end, his body won. He grasped her hand and pulled her along, knowing exactly where he would take her. As they walked briskly through the manor, she fumbled with her dress, trying to pull the fabric back up to cover her exposed breast. “Leave it.” Her eyes widened at his aggressive order. That’s when he knew she didn’t want what she thought she did. A born-to-be-submissive woman wouldn’t have even tried to cover what he’d laid bare. Still, she did as he commanded. A rush of pure male satisfaction heightened his awareness, pushing him on, demanding more. Bossing about the future leader of an entire planet was a position he both desperately wanted and was thoroughly terrified of. The dirty hunger he’d relegated to the corner dared to put its foot out and test the limits of its chains. Lorren snarled at it, forcing the hunger to retreat and cower in the darkness. He would give Farjika a taste of what she thought she wanted. He would take control of her, but he would not go too far. Keeping her beside him through the maze of hallways, he watched as her free breast swayed to her steps, the russet-colored nipple pushing out like the prow of a ship. Stopping suddenly, he jerked her to a halt and pushed her against the nearest wall. Shock opened her mouth wide, and he plunged his tongue within. Cupping her exposed breast, he twisted her nipple sharply, forcing her to draw away and gasp. Trapping her between his arms, he gazed down at her slightly dazed expression. “Are you sure this is what you want?” Her nod was slight but sure, bringing out more of his baser instincts. “You’ll do as I say when I say.” She lowered her gaze to his feet. “I’ll do whatever you want, Master.” What she said confirmed his suspicions. She had a fantasy notion of what she thought giving up control meant. What she didn’t realize was that his domination of her would be based on her own longings, not his. Like most, she had the situation backward. That misunderstanding is what had hurt Lorren’s partner the last time. He had forgotten that the encounter was about his submissive’s needs, not his own. If Farjika actually knew the depraved ways he wanted to take control of her, she would run from the manor
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screaming into the night. Her guards would be hard-pressed to keep up with her. If Errion had frightened her, Lorren’s true nature would horrify her. “Look at me.” Lorren shook his head when she did. “This isn’t a game, Farjika. Only an amateur demands a title like that. Call me Lorren, and if I ever push too far, you have to tell me.” Telling himself to stop now, he pressed on despite all the warnings going off in his brain. “Pick a word. Something unusual. If ever you say that word, I’ll stop what I’m doing. Do you understand?” Finally, the seriousness of what they were engaging in struck her. Her eyes went wide as she blinked rapidly. “Cirvant.” Memorizing the word, he asked, “What does it mean?” “It’s a curved sword.” “Cirvant is your safety.” He reached out to stroke her cheek, shocked at how his hand trembled, not with fear but longing. Turns had gone by with him refusing to even acknowledge his needs. “If I ever push you too far, or hurt you”—an image formed in his mind that he forcefully dismissed—“I want you to say that word.” Fear tempered her excitement, but she nodded, so he continued. Once they reached the small theater, he placed her center stage. With a few taps, he had the house lights low, just enough brightness for her to see the first few rows of chairs. As soon as she was comfortable, he blinded her with a spotlight that fell upon her full length. Lightly pink, the beam enhanced her caramel skin tone and reflected off metallic threads in her dress. Standing there, her eyes squinting as she took in the dimensions of the theater, her one breast exposed, she seemed a weary traveler, lost and terribly far from home. Innocence surrounded her like an exotic perfume, one he would breathe so deeply he would destroy the essence. Sadly, that was what happened to purity; experience always corrupted it. Within he struggled still, wanting to ruin her thus claiming her, branding himself forever as her first. Alternately, he wanted to leave her wholesomeness intact, preserving her as one of the last unsoiled things that existed in his world. Lorren knew he could not do both. He made his decision when he heard the faint sound of a body sinking into one of the seats. Despite the plush carpet and velvet-covered chairs, Lorren still heard that sly sound, and he knew Errion had come. Peering out into the dark, he tried to pinpoint his position, but he really didn’t need to work hard. Errion would have placed himself in the best position possible for viewing what would come. Dead center from the sides and the stage, Errion would pick the finest seat in the house. Lorren could just picture him settled into his chair, his long legs stretched out before him, only a silky robe around his lean body. Not bothering with a belt, the robe would lie open, exposing his already hard cock. Lorren would have felt manipulated, but how could he blame Errion for what his own heart desired? And Farjika. None of this would be happening but for her own secret longings, longings that Errion had masterfully exposed. Lorren wondered if Errion cared what could happen to Farjika if he lost control, not
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that he would let himself get anywhere near the dark creature in the corner, but did Errion grasp the true nature of Lorren’s darkness? Or did Errion, like Farjika herself, have a fantasy notion of what possessed him? Lorren looked out into the seats, his gaze falling to where he knew Errion sat. For a long moment, he just looked at him, letting his nerves settle. Tiny motes of dust danced in the air as the servants had cleaned in here today. He knew because he could smell the polish they used to keep the metal and wood trim gleaming. The wooden stage below his feet was scuffed with the marks of a thousand actors’ shoes, props and other sundry items used to bring productions to life. Tonight, with minimal effects, Lorren would present a show for an audience of one. Coming up behind Farjika, Lorren freed her long hair from the complicated series of twists that kept it bound. He did so leisurely, taking the time to feel the heaviness of her perfectly straight strands and to breathe fully the sweet scent of the soap she’d used. Carefully he combed her hair around her shoulders with his fingers, flicking some over the front to tickle her still-hard nipple. Perfect in her make-believe submission, Farjika stood relaxed, letting him do as he wished. If she knew Errion watched, she would likely not be so calm, so Lorren hoped he would remain silent. A tinge of guilt caused his hand to hesitate against her shoulder. He should ask her if she were willing to let Errion watch. Doing so without her knowledge violated the trust she placed in him. “Look out at the seats, Farjika,” he said, nuzzling her ear. “Picture them filled with a hundred men.” Her eyes narrowed as she peered out at the darkened seating. An increase in the pace of her breathing caused her breasts to rise and fall more rapidly, making them almost tremble, and like him, it wasn’t fear, but longing and excitement. The idea of being on display aroused her. Tapping into her fantasy, Lorren had a much better idea of how to conduct her first session. “All of them are dressed as gentlemen should be with buttoned up shirts, tailored trousers and jackets, and brightly shined shoes. All of them are looking right at you.” Lorren peeled down the fabric over her other breast, rubbing his thumb across her nipple as he did, making it as hard as the other was. Farjika lifted her chest, her eyes going soft and dreamy, as if she could see what he said. “All those men looking at you, longing for you.” Cupping her breasts as if he offered them out to the men, Lorren lowered his voice, knowing that Errion would have no trouble hearing him, as the theater was designed to carry even the slightest sound from the stage to the audience. “I can hear them fidgeting in their seats as they look upon you.” He paused, giving her time to imagine what he said. “They’re not hard yet, but their cocks begin to stir at the sight of your magnificent breasts, wantonly exposed over the top of your dress.” Her whimper hardened him anew, making his hands tighten around her breasts. “I can see some of the men licking their lips as they think of how they would torment your nipples.” Rolling them slowly between forefinger and thumb, Lorren lulled her into a peaceful surrender before he
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harshly clamped his digits together, pinching her nipples firmly and quickly, releasing them before she’d finished uttering a shocked cry. Confused by the abrupt change from tenderness to torment and back again, Farjika shook her head, her eyes blinking at a furious pace. “I thought you wanted me to be in control of you?” Lorren asked, tugging her russet brown nipples softly with his fingertips, as if plucking the strings of a delicate instrument. “I…do.” Chuckling at her hesitation, Lorren reached below her breasts and grasped the fragile fabric of her dress. While he spoke, he searched for the seam. “If I wanted to invite all those men up to touch and taste your breasts, you would allow that?” He found what he sought, holding his hands still, centered below her quivering breasts. “A hundred men?” “A hundred hot hungry men eager to touch and suckle at your breasts.” Murmuring softly, he placed his mouth right to her ear. “If I wanted to watch them torment you, and I was in control of you, then you couldn’t say no.” Farjika suddenly realized that this game had serious implications. Before she could say or do anything, Lorren braced himself against her back. With tremendous power and finesse, he wrenched her dress apart. The renting fabric screamed into the silence of the theater. “My dress!” Farjika shrieked. All thoughts of playing the submissive vanished. “Silence.” Unlike her, Lorren kept his voice dangerously low. Turning her head by gripping her chin, forcing her to look at him, he said, “You won’t need clothes for what I have planned for you.” Dismay and desire battled in her eyes. “Say it,” he dared. “Say the word to make me stop.” Her eyes narrowed. “You’re testing my resolve.” All he offered her was one uplifted brow of speculation. Apparently confused that to be submissive she had to show defiance, Farjika slowly turned her head until she faced the seats again. Pleased, Lorren let her ruined dress fall. Both brows shot up his forehead. She wore nothing below her dress. The panties he thought he’d felt earlier were all in his mind. Lorren swore he heard a sharp intake of breath that didn’t come from him or Farjika. Ah, Errion, he thought. He must be as delightfully shocked as Lorren had been that Farjika kept her sweet sex shaved. Right now Lorren would give anything to be both the man behind her and the man in the audience. “Kick the dress away and stand with your legs slightly parted.” She obeyed. She stood center stage wearing only a pair of gracefully high crimson shoes. Suddenly feeling far too hot, Lorren removed his shirt, tossing the garment next to Farjika’s discarded dress so that she could see it.
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Lorren again embraced her from behind, letting her feel the heat of his bare skin, the rough texture of his hairy chest and the hard tips of his nipples. This time, he wedged his still-covered cock into the split of her bottom, marveling at the way her body molded to his. To her credit, she held still, determined to let him do or say whatever he wished. “Those hundred men are now fully hard, their cocks pressing against their civilized trousers with vulgar need at the sight of your bare sex.” Reaching around, Lorren teased his hand from her belly button down to her mound. “Their eyes rivet on my middle finger, watching as I slide it down, parting your folds.” Slick wetness coated his hand and filled the air with her musky need. “I can hear them parting their pants, groaning with lust as they take their cocks in hand.” Up and down, bending his finger along the natural curve of her body, he rubbed along her sex, brushing past her clit so delicately she scarce had a chance to react. “What do you think those men want to do to you?” “They want to fuck me,” she said, her voice strong, filling the space with conviction. Lorren felt an inordinate flush of pride that she tried so diligently to show him that she was fearless despite the way her body trembled ever so slightly. “Could you take a hundred men?” This time she hesitated but only by the slightest fraction. “If that’s what you wanted.” She turned her head, meeting his gaze over her shoulder. “If you honestly want one hundred men to fuck me when you have yet to do so yourself, I will willingly spread my legs for them.” Admiring her spirit, Lorren kissed her hungrily. As soon as she relaxed into his embrace, he pinched her clit between his fingers. He swallowed her startled yelp and wrapped his arm around her waist to hold her up as she wobbled on her heels. Softly enough so that Errion could not hear, Lorren asked, “Do you want me to fuck you?” Probing intently into her gaze, he was determined to give her what she needed, not what he wanted. “No games, Farjika. I need to know if you want your first time like this or—” She cut him off by turning into his embrace and plastering her body to his. Her breasts pressed against his chest, tormented nipples cold against his hot flesh. Shimmying her hips against his, she struggled with his trousers, her fingers fumbling against the complicated closure. Breathless with longing, he ordered, “Get on your knees.” For timeless moment, he thought she would refuse. Clasping his hands for balance, Farjika lowered herself to her knees before him, her face tilted back so that she could look up at him. The spotlight now shone into his eyes, blinding him until he looked down and caught her gaze. She licked her lips with a delightful combination of trepidation and longing. “Have you ever sucked a man’s cock?” She shook her head, spilling her hair over her back, making the light sparkle like stars across the glistening black strands.
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Working his fingers over the waistband and down the buttons and clasps of his dress trousers, Lorren slowly freed his cock, loving the way she looked at him with anticipation lighting the darkness of her gaze. Long, thick and harder than he ever thought possible, his prick loomed above her. Cupping his fist around the base, he stroked himself while she watched. Her eyes wide, her lips parted, her expression was wanton and timid all at once. Frustrated by the binding clothing, Lorren yanked his pants off and kicked them away. Farjika stroked her hands up his legs, her fingers sliding through his hair, the edges of her nails digging into his flesh just enough to awaken him to her longing. Meeting her halfway, Lorren lowered his prick to her mouth, rubbing his tip over her plush lips, swallowing back a growl as she lapped hungrily. Barely had she wrapped him in her lovely lips before he yanked back. Startled, she shot him a confused glance. “It’s not you, it’s me.” Falling to his knees, he pulled her to him, kissing her mouth, tasting the barest bit of himself on her lips and reveling in their combined essence. “I can’t play this game anymore.” Maneuvering her above him, Lorren reclined on the cold wood of the stage as he placed Farjika over his supine body. Willingly, she straddled his hips, placing her slick sex barely above his throbbing cock. Plunging his hand between their bodies, he centered his prick to her core, his eyes meeting hers. “Slide down onto me. Slowly,” he cautioned. “I need you to give yourself to me.” Cupping her chin, he traced her mouth with his thumb. “I can’t take from you. You must give yourself to me.” Farjika lifted up and, for a heartbreaking moment, he thought she would leave him on the stage, hard and unsatisfied, but she leaned back to remove her shoes. Once she cast them aside, she leaned over him and whispered, “No games, not this time.” Tentatively, she lowered herself, clasping her hand to his that held his prick up and ready. Together they brought him to her. Once the tip of him touched her trembling core, she sighed and went lower, gasping as his head slid effortlessly inside. Lorren thanked the Harvester for easing his way but leaving her so stunningly sensitive to his penetration. As his cock filled her, Farjika held his gaze. Burning bright, the spotlight behind her lit her hair in a nimbus glow. All he could see was her face, her beautiful face, her eyes heavy lidded with desire as he eased within the snug slick heat of her sex. Trembling, Farjika slid down until she nestled against him, her clit mashed against his pubic bone. Lifting his hand to the back of her head, Lorren pulled her down as he lifted up. As his cock claimed her, so did his tongue. Diving deep into her mouth, he tasted all of her. Sweet and honest, she had come to him, taking him within the promise of her body. No games, no harshness, only pure longing and true desire. So exquisitely sensitive from their display on the stage, they were both primed. Lorren wanted to hold back, to last longer, but when Farjika rocked her hips, rubbing her clit against him tightly until she climaxed, she forced his. Rising up as he pulled her down, locking their mouths like their bodies, Lorren released his pleasure deep within her.
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Perfection. Lorren had never felt so connected to anyone. Marveling at his own feelings, he let her go so she could lift up just enough to peer down into his face. Blinking slowly, Farjika smiled, her lips parting as if to speak. Her look of satisfaction turned to horror when she heard applause.
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Chapter Eight
Errion could have quietly slunk away, but why should he? Farjika had reveled in the fantasy of being on display, so let her find out what it was like to actually be the object of a man’s lust. And lust was exactly what he felt. When Errion entered the theater, he wasn’t sure what he was expecting Lorren to do, not after he’d steadfastly refused to ever engage in another domination encounter. One mistake and he’d hung up his whip, both metaphorically and literally. The woman wasn’t even all that hurt, but Lorren had blanched at the sight of her blood, his eyes so wide they almost fell out of his face. Two bitty scratches loomed large to Lorren’s overactive senses. To this day, that woman still hounded Errion, wanting another session with the two of them, but Lorren flatly refused. Truly, Lorren had turned nothing into a major psychological obstacle. That he’d even gone this far with Farjika was astounding in and of itself, and Errion had thoroughly enjoyed the show. He thought he’d given himself away when he inadvertently gasped at the revelation of Farjika’s hairless mound. Her long-limbed body seemed even taller without dark curls to break up the visual line she made. Farjika was a luscious column of caramel flesh standing in a wash of soft pink light. Wearing only heels was another charming twist that Lorren had given him. He knew how much Errion appreciated slender legs capped off by exquisite shoes. Farjika was so perfect in so many ways. Watching Lorren slide his finger between the slick edges of her bare cunt had pushed Errion over the edge. He’d barely wrapped his hand about his prick before he was spurting all over his belly. Furious that he’d been unable to control himself, Errion wiped the cream away with his robe, then watched as Lorren pulled back from the game. Unable to make her suck his cock, he’d fallen to his knees and let her set the pace of his claiming. All of that beautiful potential submission wasted! So perhaps Errion had drawn attention to himself from anger. When Errion had grasped her wrists in the parlor, her instant surrender had convinced him that she could bring Lorren back to the dominating creature he was destined to be. But no. Lorren hadn’t been able to humble the arrogant future empress nor pluck her innocence in a mighty thrust. If Lorren were so foolish as to fall in love with the girl, there would be nothing left for Errion. He would never be able to cover her in twists of crimson rope, tormenting her into a frenzy of need. Oh the games he could play with the canvas of her body! Amazing breasts, a waist so slender he could almost grasp it with the span of his hands, and hips that were wide and strong enough to
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take a brutal pounding from the hips of several men in a row. No, if Lorren fell in love, Errion would never get to play his games. And that’s when he climbed to his feet and clapped. Not fast, but slowly, mockingly, as if he more criticized their display than commended it. Bastard that he was, he didn’t even give them a moment to enjoy their cozy afterglow. Errion could only imagine the face Farjika made as she leaned over Lorren. Shock, dismay, horror. However, when she looked over her shoulder into the darkened seats, her face was pure fury. If she had a weapon, Errion had no doubt it would be flying in his direction about now. “Quite a show, my lovely one.” Errion left his robe undone, his spent cock clearly on display as he approached the stage. Once he was within range of the dim house lights, he nodded to his drained member. “After my rousing climax, I would happily attend a repeat performance.” Jaw gritted tightly, Farjika slung her leg off Lorren, who grabbed for her, trying desperately to hold her close, but her anger made her strong, and she easily wrenched herself out of his grasp. “You knew he was there,” she accused. Her gaze sparked with insurmountable hurt, and Errion knew he’d skillfully delivered a fatal blow to their relationship. After this, Farjika would never trust Lorren again. Love could not grow without a solid base of trust. Lorren opened his mouth to deny the accusation, but he must have realized there was no point. He hung his head and released a huge sigh. “Of course he knew I was there.” Errion deliberately put a chuckle in his voice. “Why else do you think he brought you to a stage?” His words clearly wounded her even deeper as she literally winced. “Stop it.” Lorren rose to his feet and offered his hand out to Farjika, who rejected his help and stood on her own. “I didn’t invite him, but yes, I knew he was there.” Twin high marks of red shame bloomed on her cheeks as she struggled to cover herself with her ruined dress. “I would have joined you, but I didn’t think you were quite ready for that yet, what with your obvious issues with your mother.” Tears gathered at the edges of her eyes, and she blinked rapidly to keep them at bay. She was unsuccessful. One small drop rolled down her cheek, sparkling in the bright light, breaking what little heart Errion still had. Realizing that he’d gone way too far in his effort to drive her away from Lorren, he tried to take what he’d said back, but it was too late. He wanted to anger her, to hurt her, even, but not this. Embarrassed by his brutal cruelty, Errion stepped close to the stage as if to comfort her. Too late, he realized that by attacking her, he’d only entrenched Lorren in the position of her protector. Lorren dropped to his knees and leaned over the stage. He grasped the edges of his robe, and yanked him up to the edge of the platform. “You worthless fuck! Why would you do this?” Rage gave Lorren strength, and he shook Errion, bashing him bodily into the decorative molding along the edge of the stage.
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For the first time, Errion felt genuine fear. Lorren’s fists dug into his robe with the strength of ten men. Had he put them around his neck, Errion thought he’d be dead by now. Desperate to extricate himself, he realized struggling was futile. Farjika gave him escape when he saw her clutching her ruined dress as she ran off the stage. “Looks like your maiden fair is getting away.” Errion flicked his chin toward her retreating back. Lorren released him with a shove, shot to his feet and then ran after Farjika. Straightening his robe with as much dignity as he could muster, Errion left the orchestral pit and padded up to the lighting booth. He removed the memory card from the central unit and shut everything down. A dozen cameras placed around the stage had recorded Farjika’s display. Errion had a feeling the images would come in handy.
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Chapter Nine
Blinded by tears of humiliation, Farjika had one hand gripped around the edges of her ruined dress and the other flung out, palm open, to stop her from smashing into things as she ran through the manor. Sadly, she had no idea where she was going. She was lost as all the artwork and wainscoting blurred in her memory into one endless hallway. All she knew was she had to get away from Lorren and Errion and whatever cruel game they played. What had possessed her? She’d come here tonight expecting a gentle seduction with wine and sinfully soft bedding. What she’d gotten instead was some power game that trapped her between two dominant men. Farjika had no idea what Errion’s motive had been earlier in the parlor. She’d thought he’d been toying with her, trying to keep her away from Lorren, but when he grasped her wrists, her body had come alive. Every sense heightened. Playing at captive and captor was intoxicating, but only as a game. Submitting herself beyond the confines of a tryst was not in her nature. He’d stopped all forward behavior when Lorren had arrived—that was, until they’d finished dinner. Planting his foot between her legs was an aggressive way of marking his territory. He’d done it almost as if he wanted Lorren to discover him there. And then Lorren. He’d been what she thought she wanted, a gentleman who treated her like the empress she would one day be. His hand on her thigh during their meal was subtle and sexy, a tease designed to delight her, not demand from her. His reticence caused her to throw herself at him in an attempt to rid Errion from her mind, yet somehow her seduction attempt ended in her submitting to Lorren in the way she wanted to surrender to Errion. Standing on that stage, imagining what Lorren suggested, had aroused her beyond her wildest fantasies. She on display to a hundred hungry men. In her mind’s eye, she had seen them with their pants parted, cocks in hand, stroking as they watched his finger slide between her legs. Power filled her that she could command that kind of attention and bestow that kind of pleasure without actually touching them. Her steps slowed as she realized there had been only one man, doing exactly what she just imagined. It shouldn’t bother her, but it did. Letting Errion watch without her knowledge was wrong because Lorren knew, and he should have told her. Gods help her, she was so aroused she probably would have willingly let Errion stay. She might have gotten another new level of pleasure out of knowing he watched. Thing was, the choice should have been hers. That’s what she couldn’t forgive; she’d had no say in the matter.
Dark Empress
Her steps slowed further as she thought that she had given Lorren control. In fact, he’d gone out of his way to make sure she understood that giving him control was no game. He insisted she understand that this wasn’t a silly fantasy where she called him master and submitted to sexy acts designed to pleasure him. Lorren had her pick a safety word to stop him if he went too far, but wasn’t having an unseen observer a betrayal? How could she have said her secret word if she didn’t know what was happening? “Like it matters!” The encounter was over now and would never happen again. To him, her surrender was clearly a game. He and Errion battled for the prize of her capitulation. She wondered what Lorren would win for actually getting her to be complicit in her own submission. Confused by the conflicts within, she ran blindly away. What she needed was time to think. If she could get to Gabriyel, he would whisk her back to the safety of her skip. Since her business with Avalith was complete, she had no reason to stay. Like she always told herself, there was one benefit to her intergalactic mission—should ever she make a mistake, all she had to do was fly away. Abandoning everything was exactly what she had in mind. She stopped for a moment to wipe her eyes clear. Where was she? Their manor house was an imposing structure from outside, but she had no idea how massive the place really was until she was inside. She felt like she’d been running for hours. Casting her gaze behind, she didn’t see either man following, so she took stock of her surroundings. An odd light glowed at the end of the hallway. Cautiously, she approached and discovered the hallway opened into a huge circular room with a glass floor. As she stepped into the room and looked below, she saw a stunning tile mosaic below a layer of blue water. A pool? She shook her head. Why would they have a glass ceiling above a pool? “It’s one-way glass.” Spinning at the sound of the voice, Farjika stiffened when Errion stood there smiling. At least he’d closed his robe. “We can see down. They can’t see up,” he said, glancing through the floor. “When visitors swim, some can become…amorous. It amuses me to watch.” His eyes met hers. “I like to watch.” Her lip curled. She swore violently at him, calling him every degrading name she could think of and a few she’d just made up. For a good long time she spewed out all her anger and frustration, blaming him for things that truly weren’t even his fault. By the time she’d reached the end, she was shaking uncontrollably and on the verge of tears. Errion listened patiently, his face calm, his posture falsely contrite. He stood like a little boy caught, one willing to take his punishment, but the look in his roguish gaze said he’d simply do what he’d done again. The only thing he was sorry for was being caught. However, in this instance, he’d allowed himself to be caught. He wanted to be caught. When she wondered why, the only answer was that he wanted to rub his observation of her in her face. What kind of man took pleasure in harming another person, especially someone who had never done him wrong?
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“I have no idea what you just said, but I imagine you weren’t highlighting the more stellar aspects of my character.” Farjika had automatically spoken in her native tongue, as she didn’t know any vulgar terms in his language. Not that it mattered. She didn’t have to speak at all for him to know exactly how she felt about him. One thing people had always said about her—she had an extremely expressive face. “I wish to leave. Now.” Injecting every drop of imperious entitlement into her voice, as she was the product of generations of warrior women, Farjika stood as tall and proud as she could. She projected the attitude of a royal addressing a servant. With an exaggerated frown, Errion shook his head side to side. “I don’t want you to go.” His lips pursed up into a pout, like a child afraid of separation. Her eyes tried to pop out of her head. How dare he speak to her like this? Farjika had never been so enraged by anyone in her life. Another verbal thrashing hung on her lips but she bit it off, knowing that chastising him would be a waste of breath. Worse, he’d rejoice that he’d reduced her to such a state. Drawing in a calming breath, Farjika met his gaze directly. “I am done with you and your…friend.” Snuggling the ripped remains of her dress tighter, she added, “If I am not returned to my skip, I will file a formal complaint with your government. I imagine a charge of abduction and false imprisonment of the future ruler of peaceful planet would not bode well for your business.” “It would cripple our business.” His eyes went wide, and he seemed genuinely afraid of what she could do. Finally, she’d gotten through to the man. Errion dramatically slapped his hand to his chest as if she’d just mortally wounded him, and she realized this was just another joke to him. “Oh, wait, we trade in pleasure upgrades. Detaining you for the purpose of pleasure might actually increase sales.” He lowered his head, letting his blond hair partially obscure his gaze. “Either way, I’m willing to spend whatever it takes to find out.” For everything she said, he had an answer. Dealing with him was like dancing with a partner who was always several steps ahead of her. Each time she twirled desperately to catch up, he simply left her behind. “What do you want from me?” Perhaps a direct approach would work since nothing else seemed to. She almost asked him where Lorren was, but she wouldn’t believe him no matter what he said. For all she knew, Lorren was below, looking up, watching them. Just because Errion said it was one-way glass didn’t mean he was telling the truth. So far, just about everything that came out of his mouth he twisted somehow. Talking with Errion was like dealing with Arkvesta, the many-faced goddess of pranks. “So, you’re willing to negotiate?” Errion leaned against the edge of the hallway opening, blocking her exit.
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“Negotiate what?” “The terms of your surrender.” She stood shoeless in a ruined dress, both men had seen her stripped bare, one had been within her depths—what more was there to give? Farjika opened her mouth to ask but thought better of it. There was so much more that they could demand from her. So far, Errion had only lightly touched her person. Mostly he’d watched. He could demand all kind of perverse acts from her. Then, to her absolute shock, the thought of Errion forcing her to do things against her will awakened a dark hunger within. Her body grew taut, her breath short, and her cunt grew grasping and wet. What had they done to her? She looked away, trying to gather her thoughts and shove a good portion of them away, but once they’d gained a hold in her mind, they refused to go. Unsure, she looked up. Twinkling eyes met hers. She swallowed. “I’m not negotiating with you. I want to go.” But did she really? Errion was the most irritatingly self-assured man she’d ever met, but there was some indefinable something about him that was so alluring too. Unwilling to blame this sickness on herself, she speculated that something in their food or drink or maybe even the air on Avalith had damaged her brain. “I think you will negotiate.” From the pocket of his dark green robe, he removed a sleek object, like a tiny card of plastic. He held it up and got the same reaction he’d gotten from her earlier. “Why do you keep showing me things that I don’t recognize?” Huffing an annoyed sigh, Farjika longed to put her hands on her hips but didn’t want her dress sliding to the floor. Instead, she tossed her head and rolled her eyes. Growling, his dramatic reveal clearly lost, Errion held the card between two of his long, tanned fingers. “It’s a memory card.” Farjika sighed. “Show it to him. Lorren already knows about my mother—” “It’s not your mother.” His smile widened. “It’s you.” Fear wrapped around her heart and squeezed so hard she thought the floor beneath her feet had given way and she was plummeting toward the pool. Unfortunately, she wasn’t that lucky. Shock locked her knees, forcing her to stay upright on the floor that was as solid as the smirk on Errion’s face. “You were so spectacular on that stage.” All the blood drained from her as the reality of what he’d done hit. “That’s right, my lovely one.” Errion entered the room now, like a huge beast circling in for the kill. “Every moment of what you did with Lorren was recorded. From several angles. All I need to do is edit the images down.” He hesitated, frowning. “I’m not sure what to title the piece. Surrender of the Empress? Exhibition Empress?” He tapped the card in his hand speculatively. “Well, I’m sure I’ll come up with something by the time I take it to market.”
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How could something so small cause so much potential damage? It was as if he’d found her worst fear and materialized it right before her eyes. Speechless, she watched him. Slinking in his shimmering robe, he stalked around her in a wide circle. When he came near, she lunged for the memory card. With a laugh, he yanked it out of her reach. “As if this were the only copy.” She thought it might be. He hadn’t had time to copy it and follow her. And where was Lorren? If Errion was able to find her, then why couldn’t Lorren? Not that she believed he’d actually help her. He’d probably join Errion in his taunting. Her eyes widened. Gods knew what the two of them would make her do. What was wrong with her that the idea of being at their mercy was exciting? Had her determination not to become her mother actually fostered a deep-seated desire to entangle herself with two men? Not that her fathers were like these two. Drahka and Viltori would never have treated her mother this way, mainly because Bithia wouldn’t have allowed it. However, Bithia had been the empress at the time of their courtship. Farjika was a diplomat on a mission of mercy to a foreign land. Even if they held her prisoner, there wasn’t a lot Diola could do. Shaming them in the forum of intergalactic opinion didn’t seem to phase Errion one bit, and he was correct that such stories would only foster interest in their products. Errion slipped the item into his pocket. “Now, we don’t have a lot of time, so here’s what I want.” Maneuvering himself behind her, he grasped her chin, turning her head just a bit. Smartly, he’d put the object in the farthest pocket from her one free hand; she wasn’t going to be able to reach around and grab it. “I want you to stay here.” His breath was hot on her neck and shoulder, smelling faintly of dark wine and luscious treats. “You are going to help me restore Lorren to the man he was destined to be.” Farjika had no idea what he was talking about, and she said so. With a long, slow sigh that ruffled her hair, tickling it against her back, Errion traced his hand from her chin to her neck, then down to her hand clasped so tightly around her ripped dress. “On that stage tonight, Lorren lost his nerve.” “I hardly think so.” He’d shown plenty of nerve as far as she was concerned. Coming around until he faced her, Errion traced his finger along her lips. “Lorren couldn’t bear to force you to suck his cock.” Her gaze traveled unerringly down to Errion’s cock that pressed obscenely against his robe. He followed her gaze, then looked back into her eyes. Leaning close, he whispered, “Had it been me on that stage, I would have forced you to suck my cock until I climaxed.” He considered her lips, then let his gaze linger over her breasts. “My only debate would have been whether to come in your mouth or on your spectacular tits.” Farjika’s mouth dropped open at the ease with which he spoke such vulgarity. Perversion rolled out of his mind and off his tongue as if that was all he’d ever said. Errion leaned in until his mouth was very close to hers. She felt his hand sliding down her torso, then to the cleft between her legs. She didn’t want to, but she uttered a startled gasp when he slid his finger down the silky material of her dress, smoothing the fabric against her throbbing clit.
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“There is no point in denying the truth, Farjika. What I’m saying excites you.” “I hate you.” He laughed gently. “That may be, but you still find my words extremely arousing.” Rubbing his lips against hers as he softly fingered her clit, he said, “Imagine me in charge of you, ordering you to do my bidding.” She shook her head even as the visions formed in her mind. Errion standing tall above her, telling her how to suck his cock, his hand spanning the surface of the back of her head, holding her, molding her to do his lustful commands. Her mouth wetly wrapped around him, her tongue working in a desperate bid to please him, to satisfy him. In her vision, when she looked up, his eyes were twin green fires, harsh and demanding until he closed them as he climaxed, gushing his pleasure down her throat. All the while, as her imagination ran away with her, Errion continued to rub her clit, feeding her words that in turned fueled her visions. “I’m going to use you in every way I can think of, and Lorren is going to help me.” Errion pressed a little harder, making her whimper as he kept her right on the edge of climax. “Lorren will remember his dominating side through you.” “You want Lorren to abuse me?” She could not imagine Lorren treating her the way Errion suggested. Errion’s chuckle was soft and mocking. “Abuse? No. I want him to dominate you. To control you. To remember how good we were together.” Farjika’s mind raced. “This is about your relationship with him?” Peering right into her eyes, Errion rubbed so hard and fast she tried to lurch away, but he anticipated her movement. Up his other hand came around her back, forcing her to stand still for his thrusts. “Come for me, Farjika. Show me exactly what kind of a woman you really are.” “And what kind of woman am I?” she asked breathlessly, her knees threatening to give way as waves of pleasure washed up her body. “A woman who enjoys rough sex. A woman who longs to have a powerful man dominate her.” Forcing her free hand around his cock, he encouraged her to stroke him with the same intensity as he rubbed her. He felt huge and hot through the fabric, and she wanted to touch him directly, but instead, she used the slick fabric to give him a hard and fast stroke. “And despite all the objections you’ve told yourself over the years, you are a woman who needs more than one man to satisfy her dark hunger.” The shameful truth compelled her into orgasm, her body spasming in waves as she clutched his cock. Errion leaned into her, his dirty words hissed into her ear as he forced her to have another orgasm. His climax built slowly, and despite her fury with him, his amazing self-control was terrifyingly impressive. Refusing to be a total submissive, Farjika nudged his head to the side with hers, placed her mouth to his ear and poured a stream of perversity into his mind until he came with a growl. His cock twitched in her palm, and he rested his head against her shoulder, but only for a moment.
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Pulling back, he grasped her chin and kissed her, hard, his tongue plunging into her mouth, fucking her as he’d sworn to do with his cock. Finally, the raging lust abated, and once again, they were wary antagonists standing there, facing one another. Adjusting his robe, Errion was now all business. “You’ll stay here until I tell you to go. You’ll do whatever Lorren and I say.” He measured her meaningfully, his gaze an almost physical touch on her sensitized body. “I need him to think you’re willing. Rebel all you want in the borders of your mind, but to Lorren, you will be the perfect little submissive. If you do these things, I will destroy the images of you on that stage.” “For how long?” As soon as the question left her mouth, she realized he had her. Against her expressed desire to the contrary, here she was negotiating with him. How was this man able to tap right into the deepest place in her psyche and make her do what he wanted? “You’ll stay for as long as I wish.” Unlike her, when he used an imperious tone, his tenor was utterly convincing. Semen-stained robe and all, Errion still managed a starkly majestic posture. She shook her head. “I can’t stay forever. There are other worlds I must travel to.” Her next mission was probably awaiting her at her skip now. “Also, if I fail to communicate with my people, suspicions will be aroused.” She thought of Gabriyel. If he had any inkling that Errion even attempted to detain her, he would not hesitate; he would find a way into the manor, sword drawn, and kill anyone in his path. “There’s also the issue of my guards.” Annoyance twisted Errion’s face. Obviously, he didn’t want to hear anything that would interfere with his plans. Somehow, he was more handsome when he was angry. Fury hardened the angles of his cheeks and chin, giving him a surprising vibrancy. Even the color of his eyes deepened as he narrowed them speculatively. “I need time to bring Lorren around.” Errion looked directly into her eyes. “Twenty spins.” Farjika calculated his time into her time. She thought the equivalent would be about a quarter cycle. “Ten.” He shook his head adamantly. “Twenty.” She thought of running. Let him show the images of her—she could always say she was forced. But her reputation would still be ruined. She’d have no choice but to return to Diola. There, none would care, but she’d know. And she wanted to continue traveling from world to world. Farjika delighted in learning new ways, languages and customs. She hadn’t had one bad experience until she’d landed on Avalith. “Fine. Twenty.” Nodding curtly, he moved on to the next point. “I’ll allow one message to your people telling them that you decided to stay here of your own accord.” A sly grin lifted one edge of his lip. “You said you wanted to stay to investigate our culture.” Trapped by her own words, Farjika agreed.
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“As for your guards, you will send them back to your skip. Our manor is fully guarded, and they are unnecessary.” Farjika thought that over. “You are in charge of them, are you not?” Errion’s question was a subtle dig that she did not control her own people. “They are under my command, but if they think I’m being coerced, they will act independently of my orders.” The barest suspicion would cause Gabriyel to act first and ask questions later. “Then you’d better be convincing.” Errion leaned close and nipped her lips. “Now, for tonight, you’ll dismiss your guards and then go to Lorren, apologize and spend the night in his bed.” Was there the barest bit of disappointment in his face? Errion claimed he did all of this for Lorren, but Farjika suspected there was much more to Errion’s motives. Casting her gaze down at her dress, she said, “I can hardly be convincing in a ruined dress.” Gabriyel’s eyes would go wide in shock, then narrow in suspicion. She honestly doubted that even if she told him to go, he would. Stubborn beyond even the most dedicated acolyte, the captain of her guard could not be moved if he had any suspicion there was something wrong. A glow of satisfaction lit Errion’s face when he considered her ripped gown. “Now that was like the old Lorren. Aggressive and determined. The look on your face was priceless.” He frowned. “But then you ruined it by screeching.” “I didn’t realize that what he had in mind would leave me clothed in rags.” Had she known, she never would have worn such an expensive, and sadly irreplaceable, dress. Errion reached out one hand and toyed with the ripped edges clutched in her fist. “Had I my way, you would never wear anything at all.” He met her gaze. “Well, perhaps the shoes.” That’s when she realized if she went to Gabriyel barefoot, clutching the remains of her dress, it wouldn’t matter what she said. He’d yank her into the safety of his arms and run as fast as his feet could carry him. Somehow, she found that image unbearably sweet and heroic. However, by his attempt to protect her, he’d actually do irreparable damage to her. “I can see the wheels turning in your mind, Farjika.” Errion cupped her chin. “Don’t make me show you just what kind of a full-blown bastard I can be.” “What do you mean by that?” She’d agreed to stay, she was giving him what he wanted, and still he had an obsessive need to bully her. Or was he simply determined to get his own way? She wasn’t entirely sure. Worse, there was something appealing about his potential brutality, almost the way she found Gabriyel’s determination as frustrating as it was tantalizing. Men who knew what they wanted and went after their desires without stopping to worry about the consequences appealed to her, for she was the same way. She didn’t like to hear no, and clearly, neither did Errion.
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“If you think your guards are going to save you, you’re wrong. Get rid of them peacefully, or I’ll make them disappear in a way that neither you nor they will like.” Her stomach clenched. “You wouldn’t hurt them.” She couldn’t bear to phrase it as a question. “Hurt is such a curious word.” He lowered his long, tanned fingers to her nipple, brushing it slowly through the fabric until it hardened. “I would round them up and imprison them in the dungeon.” Farjika searched her mind for the meaning of that word but found no Diolan equivalent. “A dungeon is a place to hold and torture enemies.” Errion worked at the tight fabric until he’d loosened it just enough to allow him to encircle her nipple with forefinger and thumb. He twisted sharply, not hurting her so much as assuring her undivided attention. “So, when you speak to your guards, I suggest you be extremely convincing.”
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Chapter Ten
Gabriyel stood at the front door of the manor, his restless eyes sweeping back and forth across the grounds. He’d never seen so much land devoted to a single dwelling, land that was not used for crops or grains but decorative plants. Rows of neatly trimmed hedges delineated the yard into distinct areas. There were places with circular walkways, flowerbeds, and even manmade ponds with water-gushing fountains. Earlier, a collection of obnoxious winged animals had filled the closest pond, their squawks piercing the air as they battled over something he could not see. As night fell, they departed, and the grounds became eerily quiet. During his studies of Avalith, he noted the planet had two moons, which he found fascinating, as Diola had only one, but Diola had twin suns and Avalith had only one. However, the night sky was dark, as neither moon was up at the moment. Still, small torches were strategically placed around the gardens, spilling ample light across the features. Anyone who came close would be obvious. Gabriyel wanted to investigate the torches because they used something called electricity, which was very different from the crystals used on Diola. But his duty was to protect the future empress. Farjika’s father, Drahka, had chosen him from over a thousand palace guards. Having been entrusted with his daughter was an honor and a mighty burden. If he failed, he would be put to the stone. Although Gabriyel thought that if he failed, the threat of that punishment would cease to matter, because he’d already be dead. He would give his life to protect Farjika. Luckily, she was not what he expected. Rather than being a spoiled child, she was a remarkably thoughtful and intelligent young woman determined to show the universe the very best of Diola. Everywhere she went she created an impression, always good, of the beauty and intelligence of Diolans. Gabriyel could not have been prouder of her. Her dependability made protecting her quite simple. She went to large events that already had thorough security, and she never tried to sneak away or do something stupid. That was, until now. Adjusting his cirvant, Gabriyel drew in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. Using the deliberate breathing of kintana to center himself, he was able to focus his attention back on the grounds and away from his fury that Farjika had escaped his notice to have a tryst with a stranger in some backroom. He could not imagine what had possessed her to do something so risky when she’d always been such a steadfast young woman. What had shocked him even more was his reaction to finding her with another man. He’d
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pounded on the door, ready to kick it in and beat the life out of the man she’d snuck off with. Instead, she’d screamed at him that if he dared to enter, she would have him put to the stone. Shamefaced, he’d guarded the door, each lustful moan she made digging into him, infuriating him, making him crazed with longings he’d determinedly held back for all the time he’d traveled with her as the captain of her guards. Again tonight, he stood watch while she indulged her lusts with that shaggy-haired barsita. What could that boy show her? Gabriyel was several seasons his senior and undoubtedly knew more about pleasing a woman than Lorren D’Buren ever would. Sadly, Gabriyel knew he could never have Farjika. She was so far out of his reach she might as well be on an entirely different planet. Still, if he kept her from harm during her mission, when he returned to Diola he would no longer be a palace guard, he would become a tertiary member of the elite. It was a gracious gift, as most palace guards never bonded as there simply weren’t enough women of their stature to go around. But he would be elevated in status, thus able to court one of the daughters of an elite House. Not that he’d found many of them interesting, but it was better than a lifetime of sleeping alone and only finding release when the time for tribute came. Being ship bound and far from home, Farjika’s mother, Bithia, had worried about the guards having no proper venue to release their sexual tensions. To that end, she captured an image of herself upon her throne, and once a cycle, all of them were allowed privacy with her image. Alone, they would fall to their knees, expose their aching cocks and stroke themselves to release. Giving tribute was the only acceptable way for a palace guard to find satisfaction. Like all the others, Gabriyel looked forward to tribute, but rather than gazing upon the image of Bithia, he imagined Farjika sitting before him, her beautiful breasts bare, her regal face softened by lust as she eagerly watched him stroke his cock. Often, the other guards had complained that he took far too long, so rather than going first, as was his right as the highest ranking guard, he’d gone last so he could spend as much time as he wanted with the wicked fantasies in his mind. Something flew overhead making a strange cooing noise, startling him. Gabriyel mentally shook himself. He was supposed to be standing guard. If he were paying attention, a silly bird wouldn’t have surprised him. He redoubled his efforts to keep his mind off his inner turmoil and focus instead on protecting the future empress. No matter that she was parting her luscious thighs for a worthless boy who had no idea how lucky he was. No matter that said boy would probably climax well before he’d pleasured Farjika, and she would walk away unsatisfied and confused. Once he’d gotten what he wanted from her, he would probably send her on her way. Damn him to the vast nothingness, but Gabriyel hoped Farjika didn’t fancy herself in love with the boy. That would break her heart when they had to go. And eventually, they would have to leave Avalith. Usually Gabriyel didn’t care where they went or how long they stayed, but now, he couldn’t wait to depart Avalith. Farjika hadn’t been herself since the party at the D’Buren manor. Watching her dress tonight had been almost more than Gabriyel could take. Her skip wasn’t very big. Basically it held a large
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room for her and a smaller barracks for him and the other guards. Farjika had a tendency to leave her door open, as she felt a little claustrophobic when it was closed and most of the men were stationed outside around the ship. Gabriyel had approached her doorway to confirm the details for the evening when he’d spied her settling her breasts into the cups of the dress. Dark nipples were softly peaked as she carefully centered them within the clinging crimson fabric. He’d spun away before she’d noticed him, but the image of her spectacular bare breasts would never leave his mind for as long as he lived. The time to give tribute was close, and he doubted he’d last for more than a few strokes this time, not when he had an actual vision of her breasts to contemplate rather than what he’d only imagined. Just thinking of her caused him to harden, lifting up the edge of his loincloth. Hastily he adjusted himself, furious that he couldn’t seem to stop his disobedient thoughts. Normally he wouldn’t have this much of a problem, but he knew what she was doing in there, and that was what caused such a breach of discipline. He strongly hoped the rest of his men did not have such naughty thoughts destroying their attention. If anything happened to her, he would never forgive himself. Behind him, he heard the doorknob click. He spun, hand on his sword. Farjika popped her head out of the doorway. Her hair was loose and spilled over one shoulder. Her face was slightly flushed, as if she’d been running, but he knew what she’d been doing to get that look. It took all his formidable self-control not to grab her, toss her over his shoulder and steal her away. Rather than her stunning crimson dress, she wore a brown robe. He tried not to snarl. Brown was the color of slaves. His loincloth was brown because he was a slave to the empire. However, such a low color should never touch Farjika’s skin. “Stop making that face, Gabriyel.” She spoke softly in Diolan. “I borrowed his robe, and they don’t view colors the same way here.” Giving her a curt nod, he tried to look past her, into the manor, but she held the door firmly in her grip. All he could see was Farjika and a thin vertical strip of the room behind her. “I’ll be staying here rather than at my skip.” He stood straight even though inside he slumped, defeated. She was better than this, so much better than a limited tryst that would never please her, not fully. He’d heard her soft cries in the night, heard her calling out for what she most desperately wanted, and that boy wasn’t what she hungered for. It would take a man to fulfill her needs. “I will stand guard through the night.” He turned away before she could read anything else in his face with her far too perceptive eyes. Her hand on his shoulder caused a shiver that he suppressed as he turned back to her. “No, Gabriyel. There is no need for you to stay up all night watching over a manor that is fully guarded.” Frowning, he cast his gaze about the grounds. “I do not see any guards.”
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“Camera eyes and a mass of robots,” she explained. Despite his annoyance, he was fascinated and impressed. He wanted to stay and explore these amazing inventions. “Please do as I say. Gather your men and return to the skip.” “No.” The word tumbled out before he could stop it. Defying the future empress was a guaranteed way to get himself tossed out an airlock into deep space on their next mission, but honor demanded he try to make her see reason. “I’m not asking you, I’m telling you.” Boldly, she tilted her face up. “With all due respect, it is my job to see to your safety.” He bowed until his face was lower than hers was before he rose back up. “I swore to your father that I would protect you. I can hardly do that if I’m back at the skip.” Sounded good to him, but the real reason was that he wasn’t about to leave her. If nothing else, the thought of him standing on the doorstep might put a crimp in the boy’s plans. Her sleek brows drew together. To an outsider, she would appear angry, but Gabriyel recognized fear. “You have served me well these many seasons, and I have never asked you to do anything that would put my life in peril.” Reluctantly he nodded agreement as he continued to delve deeper into the expression on her face. They had been through a lot together and not once had he seen her frightened. She did her best to hide it, but the truth was there. Something, or someone, terrified her. “I have my reasons for sending you away. Please show me respect by doing as I say.” Now he was certain panic was at the heart of her unusual request. Something inside him broke that anyone, let alone a scrawny boy, could frighten such a strong woman. However, if he acted rashly, say by kicking down the door and demanding answers, he could put her life in greater jeopardy. Convinced something was gravely wrong, Gabriyel agreed to gather his men and go. He said so loudly enough that anyone listening could hear him acquiesce. Farjika’s relived sigh convinced him she was trying to protect him. He couldn’t have been more astounded. Here she was, a royal and less than half his size, and she was determined to keep him safe. Concerned, Gabriyel reached out before she could close the door. He grasped her hand and leaned near, as if to kiss the back of her hand. He didn’t think a barsita would know the tradition was not one of theirs. Moreover, he didn’t think either man within knew how to speak Diolan. Farjika startled at his tremendous breach in protocol. He wasn’t allowed to touch her except in the process of defending her. Her enormous eyes broke his heart and hardened his resolve. “Be safe, my lady.” He lifted his gaze to hers as he whispered, “I will return for you.” Horrified, she leaned close enough for him to smell her perfume. He drew a deep breath until he discovered the clear aroma of sex. The smell of her musk mixed with another’s sparked his obsession. His semi-hard cock throbbed to life. He wanted to leap upon her and replace that boy’s scent with his own. “No, Gabriyel. I will call for you within the cycle.”
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“A cycle?” He calculated quickly and realized she expected him to leave her here for twenty of their days and nights. Such was an eternity. Gabriyel hadn’t been away from her for any extended period in over two seasons. “Tell me what is wrong, my lady. I can protect you.” She shook her head and whispered, “I swear to you that I’m safe, but I must stay. If you come back, you will ruin everything. Please do as I ask.” She extricated herself from his grip but not before she squeezed his hand. With one last look at him, where she plastered an utterly unbelievable reassuring smile on her face, she closed the door.
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Chapter Eleven
Lorren snuggled up against the sleeping Farjika, once again stunned by the turn of events. When she’d run off the stage, he was convinced he would never see her again. He berated himself a fool for not telling her that Errion was watching. Not giving her a choice was wrong, but he’d been so eager to show Errion that he wasn’t a coward. Dominating Farjika had been so pleasurable he still couldn’t believe he hadn’t erupted when he’d torn her dress from her amazing body. Such an aggressive move surged the animal within, making the beast pull the corner chains taut, but still, he kept his monster in check. He wanted to control her but not go too far. A leisurely introduction into dominance was the best way. Lorren thought he’d struck a perfect balance; he’d found a way to exorcise his demons and relearn the pleasures of light domination. There was a huge difference between being a master of pain and a man with a strong hand. No matter what Errion thought, Lorren was far happier with the path he’d chosen. The very idea of inflicting pain on Farjika sickened his soul. Lorren had lost his nerve altogether when she was on her knees. He’d just barely placed his cock to her mouth when the beast began demanding he thrust deep into her throat. The beast wanted to hear her choke on his length. Lorren refused. Farjika had never sucked a man’s prick before; she wouldn’t know that many men liked to hear that sound, even if it were as manufactured as the recording within his pleasure units. Many men, himself included, liked to imagine they were so big the woman could barely take them within. Just as when they fucked, some men loved to hear that whimpering cry of simulated pain, as if his prick were too big to fit into her. By nature, men were vain creatures who needed constant ego stimulation. This he understood as a man, but she wouldn’t know, and he wasn’t sure how to tell her. All those thoughts ran through his mind as Lorren loomed above her on the stage. Relenting, because it was her first time and he couldn’t bear to push her further than she could stand to go, he’d fallen to his knees and embraced her. He’d laid back and let her set the pace for their initial encounter. He was pleased when she’d impaled herself upon him, letting him slide within her slick heat without pain. Snugly, her body embraced him, but he’d not hurt her. He was her first and yet not. Such a curious world she came from. Truly, even on that cold stage with the wooden floor digging splinters into his backside, his first time with her was magical. He’d never felt so enmeshed with a woman, as if their encounter were a first for him as well as her; the first time he’d bared a part of his soul along with his body. Farjika was beautiful and exotic, but there was something more, something deeper that he couldn’t explain. She was right for him. Lorren couldn’t clarify his knowing any more than he could explain Errion’s deplorable behavior.
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Errion. Lorren shook his head. At the time, he’d been so furious he thought when he caught up to him he would probably kill him barehanded. Errion could have quietly left the theater and Farjika would have been none the wiser. Frankly, Lorren himself had forgotten all about him. As they’d made love, everything had fallen away but her body against his. Perhaps that’s what had prompted Errion’s mocking applause. Errion lived for attention. Good or bad didn’t matter so much as long as he got some. However, Lorren couldn’t be that angry with him, not now, not after what Errion had done. It was Errion, after all, who found Farjika and calmed her, giving her a robe to replace her ruined dress, convincing her to stay. He’d even persuaded her to send her guards away, as their security was top notch. Between the cameras and the robotic servants who doubled as bodyguards, the manor was the safest place on all of Avalith. It made Lorren feel better that her guards did not have to stay awake all night while he slept with Farjika in his arms. Those men deserved a warm bed rather than a freezing night stationed around his manor, especially when they were unnecessary. Lorren thought that Errion did all of this with some ulterior motive, but he’d left her to him as he’d gone off to his own bed. Shaking his head, convinced he would never understand his best friend, Lorren let out a big sigh, jostling his bedmate. Farjika rolled over, taking a large portion of the bedclothes with her. Obviously, she was used to sleeping alone, as was he. If he had his way, neither of them would ever sleep alone again. As crazy as it sounded, he wanted her to stay with him. Not just for now, not just for a time, but forever. After a lifetime of fleeting affairs, Lorren wanted a commitment. Already his mind was filled with how he would propose and which ring he would fall to bended knee to offer. Easily he pictured her in a beautiful wedding dress with an enormous train dragging behind her as she maneuvered toward him down the aisle of Odgent Church. With these thoughts in his mind, Lorren snuggled up to her back. His body naturally fit right along the length of hers. Perfection. Lorren closed his eyes and let sleep claim his thoroughly satisfied body and the fleeting dreams he swore to make real. Morning came as it always did, but today, Lorren didn’t leap out of bed with his usual determination to face the challenges of work. No, today he snuggled the woman in his arms, his nose taking in the scent of her sleep-warm body. They hadn’t showered before bed last night, which pleased him because he loved the scent of his musk mingled with hers. Exotic spices, her unique otherworldly perfume, mixed with the scent of whatever cleaner the staff used on his sheets combined into a most compelling scent. Lorren’s mouth watered, and he knew only one way to satisfy his craving. Rolling her from her side to her back, Lorren kissed his way from her chin to the area between her breasts. She moaned but didn’t wake. Playfully he continued his journey down to her belly button, slipping
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his tongue within before sliding his lips down the hairless thrust of her mound. No stubble greeted the sensitive skin of his lips, and he realized she didn’t shave. Farjika had had her hair completely removed. Smooth as the skin on her cheek, her hairless sex was bare and spread open, ready to satisfy his hunger. Carefully, he maneuvered between her legs without waking her. Farjika stretched her arms above her head, her hands pressing against the solid dark wood at the head of his bed. She extended her legs as far as she could, pointing her toes as she deepened her stretch, but when she went to clasp her legs together, she met with resistance. Puzzled, she looked down to find him on his knees between her legs. “Good morning.” His heart almost leapt out of his chest when her eyes went wide with panic. After a timeless moment, she relaxed and smiled at him, releasing the tense breath she held. “Good morning,” she returned, striving for a casual air that she didn’t quite hit. Questioningly, he met her gaze. “I could come back up, if you’d prefer.” The last thing he wanted to do was something that she wasn’t comfortable with. Briefly, she considered his position. A slow spreading smile transformed her face. “No, I think you’re fine where you are.” Again, she stretched out, pointing her toes, extending her hands as if to touch the edges of the bed. Encouraged, Lorren yanked his pillow down and slipped it below her bottom. Lifting her up just a bit allowed him a much better position to satisfy his hunger. Lowering his lips to her sex, he placed the softest kiss to her clit, which hid below folds of flesh. “So sweet, so shy.” She murmured as he slipped his tongue between her folds. When he hit her center, her core, the opening of her snug little sex, she groaned and parted her legs wider. Thrusting his tongue inside, he tasted the combined essence of her and him, reveling in the lusty flavor. Holding her wide with his hands on her inner thighs, he moved up to her clit, forcing the skin away, exposing the most nerve-rich spot on her body. Tormenting her with fast and slow licks hardened his cock. She squirmed beneath him, her breathy moans encouraging him to continue his swirling strokes, but he added a slow, simple plunge of one finger. Her walls clamped around him, squeezing as tightly as she could. All it took was one thought of his cock there and he almost spurted against the sheets. Farjika twined her fingers in his hair, holding his head to her as she writhed in ecstasy. She muttered something under her breath, something in her native tongue. Whatever it was sounded wicked as hell. Lorren almost asked for a translation but he was enjoying the lyrical sound of her dark and dirty words. Her voice rose in volume as she neared the crest. Forcefully he held her hips down as he brought her up, higher than she thought she could go, and then pushed her over the edge, marveling at how her entire sex quivered when she climaxed.
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Without hesitation, he rose over her, lifted her legs, and plunged into her still spasming cunt. She released a satisfied gasp as he filled her. Rocking his body against hers, he lowered his head and kissed her, tasting her mouth, letting her taste her arousal on his lips. Farjika shimmied her hips, encouraging his release, but he wouldn’t rush. “Slowly, my love, slowly.” She stiffened below him, and he stopped moving. Lifting up on his elbows, he peered down at her. “What?” “Nothing.” She looked away. Her body went from rigid to relaxed so quickly it was as if she melted. “Are you afraid of me?” What had he done? Had she stayed because she didn’t dare fight him? “Just don’t say that again.” Tormented eyes met his. “Don’t call me that.” “My love?” She winced and struggled to get away from him. “I’m sorry, I won’t say it again.” He kissed her neck, her cheek, her ear, softly murmuring apologies. He had no idea why such an endearment would bother her so intently, but he swore to remove the phrase from his vocabulary. Perhaps those words had a different meaning on Diola or they translated badly. “Never again, Farjika. I swear it.” Eyes closed she nodded. Burying her face into the hollow between his neck and shoulder, she wrapped her arms around him, clinging to him. Unable to continue with her in such a state, Lorren rolled to the side, hugging her against him until she relaxed for real this time and not as a show of submission. “Are you okay?” Rather than answer, she kissed him and gently rocked her hips. Slowly his erection returned, but his passion was tempered by a need to show her that he cared for her. “It’s not just about sex, Farjika.” She met his gaze. “I know.” Then why did he feel there was something she wasn’t telling him? As he scrutinized her for a revelation, she seemed to sense his inquiry and tried to put his concerns to rest. “It’s just that you are so different this morning.” The words rushed out, tumbling around each other in her frantic need to spill them. “Oh, Farjika.” Lorren kissed her quick, twice. “I’m not always going to be exactly like I was last night.” He hesitated. “Is that what you want?” “No!” As if she realized she sounded panicked, she took a deep breath. “I like that you can be both very demanding and very sweet. I suppose I just didn’t know what to expect.” Her gaze darted down, then back to his. “I don’t know very much about such matters.” Her honesty touched his heart. No wonder she was confused. He’d gone from full-out domination to letting her command him to tender lovemaking this morning. Nuzzling her nose with his, he whispered,
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“Sex is supposed to be about what makes you feel good. That can change rapidly from one day to the next.” A wave of guilt washed over him for not talking more and doing less. He had to stop thinking of her as an experienced woman when she clearly wasn’t. “We should have talked more first, and for that, I apologize.” Damn him, he’d never even bothered to simply ask her what she fantasized about. Cupping his face, she considered him for a very long time. “I thought that most men had one thing above all others that excited them and that was all they wanted.” An immediate denial sprang to mind, but he owed her the courtesy of considering what she’d said. “I think men, and women, might have one thing that they enjoy, something perhaps like what we did last night, but even with that, the mood changed from control to surrender and back again.” He smiled gently. “Tell me what you liked most about last night.” She closed her eyes as if she mentally reviewed everything they’d done. Something struck her strongly, because her core clamped around him so firmly he couldn’t help but grasp her hips and steady himself. “Heaven help me, what were you thinking?” Whatever it was, if she thought of it three more times in quick succession, he’d probably climax. Lorren swore something like guilt crossed her features before she whispered, “The way you fingered me on that stage while describing an audience of a hundred aroused men.” Again, she shivered, her cunt clutching his cock. Unable to resist, he withdrew, and his ego soared at her worried expression. “Trust me.” He rolled her over, facing away from him. Coming up behind her, he slid his cock back within her silky heat. Reaching his arm around her waist, he slid his finger down her mound, then parted her folds. “You like this?” She nodded. “Speak, Farjika. I want to hear your voice.” “Yes, I like this. I like the feel of you inside me while you touch me.” He rolled onto his back, taking her with him. “Sit astride my hips.” Carefully, keeping him buried within, she sat up, her legs parted around his hips. From this angle, with her facing away, her tangled hair flowed down her back like ink, her waist looked so tiny and her bottom plushed beautifully against his lighter skin. He wanted to grab her waist, lift her up just a bit and then thrust into her as hard as he could. But he didn’t. This was about what she wanted. “Can you see them, Farjika? A hundred men watching you atop me.” “No.” “No?” “Just one man is watching.” “Only one?” “Only one. He’s wearing a dark green robe that highlights his eyes.”
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Lorren startled. She’d been so upset last night that Errion had spied on them, but now she was dragging him into her fantasy? Curious. But not shocking, he supposed. Sometimes people didn’t realized how much something excited them until afterwards, when they’d had time to think upon it and replay the event, making it perfect in their recollection. It reminded him of Errion’s fury in the carriage, trying so desperately to rid Farjika from his mind and then dragging her into their encounter anyway. “Is he saying anything?” Lorren asked, sliding his finger side to side across her sex rather than up and down. “No, he’s just watching.” “Cup your breasts, offer them to him.” Sliding her hands up her thighs, past her hips, her waist, she finally lifted her breasts as she arched her back, which pressed her down on him, pushing his cock deeper within. “Are your nipples hard?” Again, Lorren wished he could be two places at once; he wanted to be the man below her and the man watching her. “They are very hard. So hard they ache.” “Twist them.” When she did, she exhaled a tormented little moan that caused him to thrust up into her. “Do you want him to suck your nipples?” “Yes. But he only wants to watch. He says he likes to watch. He wants to watch you make me climax.” Pleased, Lorren smiled. “What do you want?” “I want you to make me come so hard I scream.” Farjika rolled her hips in a circle, swiveling his cock within her cunt as she tightened her walls around him. Heaven help him, he would do his best. “Is his robe open?” “It is now.” “Is his cock hard?” “Yes. I can see moisture at the tip as he strokes his fist slowly up and down.” Lorren could actually see Errion doing just that. Of course, the Errion in his mind had that dirty little smirk on his face. Building up slowly, Lorren rocked his hips as she circled, creating a delicious friction that he enhanced by sliding his finger up and down her straining clit. Farjika’s moans deepened, and occasionally she twitched as the stimulation became too much. “How would you like the feel of my cock in your cunt and his prick in your mouth?” Lowering her head, she hissed “Yes” over and over until the word became a chant in time with his thrusts. Sensing she was on the verge of a spectacular climax, Lorren lifted up until he had her on her knees, him behind her, his hips slamming into her bottom as he rubbed her clit hard and fast. Her passage
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clutched his shaft when she climaxed. Her head went back when she screamed. Lorren looked straight ahead and caught sight of Errion right as he gushed into the air, causing Lorren to spill within Farjika.
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Chapter Twelve
After a moment to regain normal breathing, Errion smiled at Lorren’s shocked face. “Now that is the way to start the day: with a rousing climax for one and all.” He left his robe open as he sat upon Lorren’s dressing chair. Last night’s clothing was neatly folded over the back, just as Lorren insisted upon. Errion wondered how much time the butlers spent fussing over his wardrobe. Farjika kept her head down, but he saw a twist of a grin. She seemed pleased to have gotten Lorren back. Surely, Lorren didn’t know Errion was actually watching until he looked up at the very last moment. Oh, she was turning out to be a delightful player! How could he ever have thought of trying to rid their lives of her? Twenty days would never be enough. As Errion sat regaining his ability to move, he considered ways to keep her here permanently. Holding the recording over her head wouldn’t work for a lifetime. Already he was slightly ashamed of himself. Slightly. A man did what he had to do in order to get what he needed. And both he and Lorren needed Farjika. “When did you come in here?” Lorren glanced at his closed door, then pulled Farjika protectively into his lap as he sat back. Draping the bedclothes around them seemed silly after all Errion had seen, especially the wanton look in her eyes as she’d offered out her breasts to him. Then, when Lorren suggested he fuck her while she sucked Errion’s prick…not crossing the floor and guiding her lips to his eager cock had been one of the greatest challenges he’d faced in a very long time. Farjika had a visually stunning mouth, and to see it wrapped around his prick would probably cause him to climax long before she got him very deep. Errion decided he would have to practice so as not to embarrass himself when the time came. “I entered much earlier, long before either of you woke.” Lorren’s eyes narrowed. “And you just sat there watching us sleep? Pretty damn creepy, Errion.” Errion shrugged. “Don’t get mad at me.” He chucked his chin at Farjika. “She’s the one who knew I was here and didn’t say anything.” “I didn’t know he was here at first. He was in the shadows.” “Oh, don’t make excuses, my lovely one.” Farjika cringed at the term, and the look in Lorren’s eyes confirmed he now understood why she didn’t want him calling her “my love”. That endearment was a little too close to the mocking term he used to address her. Standing, Errion stretched. “Now that each of you has tricked the other, perhaps next time we play this game we can all be aware of each other.”
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“We’re not playing any more games.” Lorren hugged Farjika hard to his chest. “Get out, Errion. And close the door behind you.” “It was Farjika’s idea.” It wasn’t, but Errion wasn’t about to have Lorren cut him out of the picture before he even got started. Farjika’s mouth fell open, and her eyes narrowed. Errion could tell she was on the verge of calling him a liar and heaping another spectacular verbal bashing on his head when she remembered what he had on her. Clamping her mouth tightly closed, she glared at him. Errion had heard of women who were beautiful when they were angry. He’d never met one until now. In her fury, Farjika was spectacular. Her eyes sparkled, her cheeks flushed, the color of her lips deepened and her nostrils flared delicately, like a huntress on the scent. A charge tightened all the muscles in his body. If ever she were in a position of control over him, she would make him pay. Dearly. The image was alternately frightening and positively orgasmic. “Don’t be ashamed. He won’t be upset.” Errion watched her do a slow burn. Hesitantly, Lorren rubbed his cheek against hers. “Is that true?” With one finger to her chin, he turned her face to his. “You can tell me the truth.” Lying did not come easily to her, but it was amazing what she was willing to do to protect her reputation. “I was afraid if I asked, you’d say no.” It sounded believable to Errion. To her credit, Farjika put just the right note of tender vulnerability in her voice. Lorren kissed her softly. “I would never tell you no.” Errion practically did a dance right on the spot. If Lorren thought his ideas were coming from Farjika, there was no limit to the scenarios they could enact. His mind raced with possibilities. Still, he had to take care. He had to craft situations that would believably have come from her and not him. That would be tricky but not impossible. “Well, I’ll leave you as I simply must shower. Join me for breakfast, won’t you?” Before they could answer, Errion strode from the room, his open robe furling behind him like a silk cape. He hadn’t felt this wonderful at first light ever. Lorren was the morning person whereas Errion preferred the dark. He could certainly become a morning person if he could wake up to that every day. Cleaned and dressed in casual slacks, Errion entered the dining room. Lorren and Farjika were in their same seats as last night. Lorren had opted for a similar look to Errion’s: slacks and nothing else, his hairy chest looking suitably impressive and manly. Farjika was dressed in another robe, this one black, that clung to her like a lover. There was a pause when he entered, but Lorren quickly covered it by listing what fare they had.
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Sharing a leisurely breakfast was usually not something Errion enjoyed, but today he ate with gusto, his gaze equally drawn to the two people at the table. He carried on light conversation, but his devious mind would not stop spinning detailed scenarios that involved the three of them. Errion realized his initial idea of bringing Lorren back to himself seemed unlikely, and perhaps Lorren was right; that was not the true essence of Lorren’s inner self. Dispensing pain was a phase, something he’d needed at the time, but no longer. Now he thought perhaps Lorren was best suited to a more pure form of domination. Lorren’s temperament made him perfect for controlling another, not viciously but for the aspect of slowly delivering pleasure. Errion believed everyone had a secret hunger, one that each person carefully guarded for fear of ridicule or rejection. Farjika secretly hungered for submission. Oh, she had her moments where she would be spectacular in charge of another, but her true nature hungered for long, teasing scenarios and forced pleasure. Force was such a tricky thing. Errion found that many people wanted to be forced to do something, something that they couldn’t summon the courage to do willingly. Having another make them act out their secret longings freed them from that inner shame. More than once he’d heard a submissive swear that they didn’t want to do whatever it was he told them to do, but they did because they had to. Because he made them. Funny, they always managed to climax. Inwardly, he laughed because they always managed to come back for more as well. Farjika would be no different. “Well, sadly, I must attend to some businesses today.” Lorren lifted and kissed Farjika’s hand. While his head was down, her expression flashed pure panic; about the last thing she wanted was to be alone with Errion. Errion smiled at her, then blew her a kiss. On the verge of glaring at him, Lorren lifted his head, and she pouted. “Can’t you have one of your subordinates take care of things?” “I wish I could.” And Errion knew how true that statement was. Just as Farjika didn’t want to be alone with him, Lorren certainly didn’t want to leave her here with him either. They had always had a measure of trust in their relationship, but that all fell apart when Farjika entered their lives. “If only you had something to wear, I could take you with me.” Lorren rubbed the edge of the black robe between his fingers. “Again I apologize for ruining your dress.” He said he was sorry, but Errion certainly didn’t see regret in Lorren’s eyes. He’d ripped her dress right off her, and he wasn’t a bit sorry because doing so had felt so damn good he’d probably about climaxed as he heard and felt the fabric ripping. Errion practically had. Farjika’s shock at her sudden exposure had been genuine, but so had her slick little sex. She might have been angry, but she’d also enjoyed his brutality.
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A beautiful plan burst fully formed into Errion’s mind. “I think a shopping trip with you would be wonderful.” Her eyes darted to him and widened as if he’d suddenly grown a second head. “You’d do that?” Lorren was suitably impressed with Errion’s generosity, as he should be. Errion had never offered to escort any woman around the shops before. Errion hated shopping, as he had all his clothing fashioned by an exclusive tailor. Lorren was the one who delighted in perusing the shops for interesting items he later had custom fitted. Errion made the offer only to get Lorren out of the way so he could have some privacy to concoct the next scenario with Farjika. Amazing how even after a spectacular release this morning, he was already consumed with generating the next one. Both Lorren and Farjika would feel so much safer leaving her with him if they were out in public and not trapped here at the manor. Of course, silly creatures that they were, they actually thought he’d behave in public. As if Errion had ever cared about anyone’s opinion of him. “Of course I would.” Errion gave a modified bow from his chair. “We could go to your skip, retrieve something for you to wear, have you send a message to your people, reassure your guards of your continued good health, and then spend the day on Market Street.” It sounded like a perfectly lovely outing to his ears, and his enthusiasm must have swayed Lorren of his good intentions, because he swiveled his head questioningly to Farjika. She hesitated only slightly, then nodded, not enthusiastically but almost with resignation. Errion would have to have a chat with her about acting a bit less afraid of him or Lorren would certainly catch on. The man might be clouded with lust, but he wasn’t stupid. Eventually, Lorren was bound to notice Farjika’s dislike if she didn’t school her features. “Of course, I’ll pay for everything,” Lorren said. Ah, he thought her reluctance was about money. How quaint that Lorren was offering out his wallet to the future ruler of an entire planet. However, rather than scoffing at such a pathetic tribute, Farjika’s face softened. “You are so sweet, but truly, I’m fine.” She leaned close and whispered, “And if I had it all to do over again, I would have you do no differently.” Their eyes met, held. Even from this distance, Errion felt the heat flow between them. Jealousy flared and caused him to shoot to his feet. “Well,” he said, clapping his hands loudly and ruining the moment, “let us be on our way!” He injected enthusiasm into his voice that he didn’t feel. However, he would have an entire day alone with Farjika. He strode over to her and offered out his hand. When her eyes met his and she placed her trembling hand into his, he didn’t have to be a mind reader to know she was as excited as she was afraid. Rather than offering out a smile to reassure her, he deliberately made his face hard, gripped her hand
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a bit too tight and coldly swept his gaze from her bare feet to her face. “Oh, we are simply going to have the best time.”
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Chapter Thirteen
“It’s too tight!” Farjika could hardly breathe in the restrictive garment. Errion called it a corset, but she called it a bust crusher. “How am I expected to move while wearing this?” The stiff item mashed her breasts together and lifted them until they were practically below her chin. In addition, it nipped her waist, which was already tiny. When she spied herself in the mirror, she looked on the verge of breaking in half, as if her waist was too narrow to hold up the burgeoning extreme of her chest. “I look foolish!” “Not at all.” Errion slumped in a chair, one leg thrown casually over the armrest, his eyes glued to her as the saleswoman poured her into various fashions. “And when you wear something like this, you aren’t expected to move much.” She began to suspect that was the point of many things Errion selected for her to wear. They displayed her assets for the purpose of male ogling and not personal comfort. Farjika would have stormed off long ago, but she knew she wouldn’t, not until Errion was satisfied and gave the recording to her. With less than half a breath, she sighed. Sending a message to her people had been difficult. Keeping her tone and face positive when she’d felt anything but had been tricky but doable. What had nearly broken her heart was the look on Gabriyel’s face when he saw her in the black robe. In Diolan, he’d demanded to know what happened to her dress. She’d lied and said she’d hopelessly ruined it by dropping a drink in her lap. His forbidding frown spoke volumes. When his crystal-blue eyes considered Errion, she thought he might shoot flames from them, incinerating him on the spot. Never had she seen him so angry, so suspicious, so downright infuriated that he was impotent to do anything. Because, like a good guard, Gabriyel did as she instructed, even though it was clear he didn’t want to. Again, he asked if she were safe, that he would rescue her if need be, and she’d deliberately laughed and tossed her head, telling him blithely, “If I were in danger, would I be going shopping?” Stone-faced, he’d reluctantly agreed that no, she probably wouldn’t do so, but he insisted on coming with her for her own protection. She thought Errion would refuse, but to her shock, he magnanimously agreed. On the verge of thanking him for his kindness, he’d utterly ruined the tiniest bit of positive thought she had about him by saying, “He can carry your purchases.” She wanted to slap him as hard as she could, but that would practically guarantee he’d release the images of her. Determinedly, she held her hands loosely at her sides. Gabriyel kept his hands behind his back so Errion could not see how he clenched and unclenched them in rapid order.
Dark Empress
What Errion didn’t know was that Gabriyel spoke his language as well as she did. Better, in fact, in her opinion. For security reasons, he insisted on not letting anyone know, and she respected his decision, but he’d barely been able to refrain from slamming Errion against the nearest wall when he’d decided to treat him like a servant. Gabriyel was the strongest, smartest and highest ranked guard in the entire palace. Her father would not have appointed him to protect her otherwise. To have an arrogant barsita denigrate him right to his face was inexcusable, but Farjika couldn’t do anything about it. Somehow, someday, she would make all of this up to Gabriyel. Poor Gabriyel stood outside the dressing area, his massive arms heaped in packages as his stoic face kept anyone from daring to enter. Farjika considering asking Errion to stop tormenting him, but she thought if she did, he would probably only torture him more. Errion had an enormous nasty streak that none seemed able to check. Considering herself in the mirror, she wondered what Lorren would do if she told him everything. If anyone could punish Errion and make him regret his awful behavior, she had a feeling Lorren could. However, she thought that given the sneak Errion was, he’d probably planned for that possibility. She had a feeling that if she involved Lorren in any way, the images would automatically be dispensed around the universe. After another dozen outfits were pulled, slid or plastered against her, Errion was finally satisfied with her wardrobe replacements. Some of the garments she liked, but most she didn’t. Explaining the Diolan system of colors to Errion resulted in him selecting several brown items. Coming up behind her as she modeled them with an angry face, he’d whispered, “For the time being, you are my slave. Having you dressed in brown might be a good reminder for you.” Thankfully, Gabriyel was not in the room or he surely would have balked. Last night he’d eyed her brown robe with such a look of disgust on his face it was almost comical. Consequences be damned, but if he heard or saw what Errion was doing to her, Gabriyel would strangle the life out of him long before Errion could call for help. At the last possible moment, Errion relented, insisting that the brown did not complement her skin the way the crimson, gold and black garments did. He kept the same designs but demanded those alternate colors. The harried saleswoman was only too happy to oblige, probably because those were the colors she had suggested in the first place, but also because she was probably looking forward to their departure. Not only had Errion been acting like an utter bastard, but also Gabriyel’s glowering had kept all other shoppers from entering the boutique. Rather than returning to the manor, Errion insisted on entering yet another store, this one tucked far away from the others. Unlike the bright, airy nature of the high-end boutiques, this one was more menacing, with heavy black curtains and shiny silver furniture. Errion insisted Gabriyel stand guard in the main room while he escorted her into the back.
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Casting her gaze around the tiny room, she saw mirrors placed against three walls, the ceiling, and the floor. The one on the floor was quite scuffed, but she was still able to see right up her dress as she walked over it. Dim lighting gave the black-painted room a sinister feel, and somehow made the air seem colder even though it wasn’t. She shivered. Bumps washed along the exposed skin of her arms. A sinking feeling began in the pit of her belly and spread out along her limbs. Farjika didn’t think they were actually going to buy anything here. Errion spoke in sibilant whispers to someone she could not see, then turned to her. “Remove your dress.” The strange-colored lighting enhanced his eyes, making them glow as it cast shadows against his face. Lean and hungry-looking, Errion flipped his hair back and unbuttoned his shirt. His fingers were steady as he slid them down the front placket, popping button by button, slowly revealing a chest exactly like Lorren’s but for an utter lack of hair. Smoothly, he pulled the shirt off his shoulders and tossed it aside. “I gave you an order, Farjika.” She’d stood there mesmerized by his display. Shaking herself, she removed her dress perfunctorily. She refused to do so seductively. Right now, she was too apprehensive to do more than move like one of his mechanical servants. As she leaned over to slip her heels off, Errion stopped her. “Only your dress.” With the soft touch of his hands to her shoulders, he placed her before a wall mirror but also so that the mirrors to the side reflected her image too. “Close your eyes.” The last thing she wanted was not to know what he was up to, but she did as he commanded. Errion left her then, returning to the door where he and the other whispered. After a time, he came up behind her and slipped something around her torso, fitting the garment to her with strong, sure hands. It was soft against her skin, and snug, but it covered her only from right under her breasts to her belly button. “Open your eyes.” She gasped. Crimson leather encircled her, lifting her breasts and displaying them as a gauzy skirt flared around the bottom edge, falling down to her ankles. Her legs looked impossibly long, as the fabric of the skirt did nothing to hide them but actually enhanced them. “For tribute.” Her eyes went wide as she stared at him through the mirror. Meeting her startled gaze with a knowing look, Errion whispered to her ear, “I find your culture fascinating, Farjika. Now, should I bring in Gabriyel? He’s been such a good boy, following us from shop to shop, carrying all those boxes and bags. I think he deserves a good release, don’t you?” His silky voice was in direct contrast to the menace of his words. Farjika trembled as she shook her head. “Please don’t do that. You don’t understand what tribute is.” She was not allowed to accept tribute. “Only the female Harvester or the current empress can sit in residence for tribute.” What he was suggesting
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was a violation of the ritual. Never had her heart beat so fast nor her mouth felt so dry. Worse, she became unbearably aroused by the mere thought of performing something she was forbidden to do. “I understand exactly what tribute is.” Errion embraced her from behind, his bare chest hot and smooth against her back. Resting his head on her shoulder, he held her reflected gaze as he spoke. “Picture Gabriyel kneeling before you.” Farjika tried not to, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. In her mind’s eye, Gabriyel came before her, clad only in his simple loincloth. He dropped to his knees and asked for the right to give tribute, which she granted. Quietly and with great dignity, he asked for the right to look upon her, which she also granted, her voice husky. Muscles covered in oil, bulging, Gabriyel lifted his right hand and removed the brown cloth at the same time he met her gaze. “He’s huge, his cock so thick with need you can see it tremble each time his heart beats.” Errion cupped her breasts into his hands, his thumbs and fingers smoothing over her nipples, pulling them taut. “He wraps one fist around his shaft and stifles a groan. A single drop pearls at the tip, quaking as he shudders.” Errion’s erection pressed into the split of her bottom, pushing the gauzy fabric into her flesh, adding the dimension of texture to his play. Slowly, as he spoke, he slid his prick up and down her bottom, causing her to arch back as she had with Lorren last night. “Finger yourself, Farjika.” She grasped a handful of the skirt, but he admonished, “No, don’t lift the skirt. Touch yourself through the fabric.” As soon as she brushed her finger across her clit, she gritted her teeth not to cry out. The weave was just thin enough to prevent direct contact but textured enough to scrape softly against her sensitized flesh. “Shhhh,” Errion whispered. “We don’t want Gabriyel to hear you and come rushing in.” He chuckled lightly. “Can you imagine what he would do to find us like this?” Using the pads of his thumbs, he flicked them over her nipples until they strained forward. “Now, returning to our scenario, I want you to describe to me what Gabriyel is doing, what he looks like, all of it. Do you understand?” She nodded. In the mirror, she was stunned by her own appearance—flushed face, lips glistening from her repeated licking of them, one hand buried between her legs, and Errion watching her intently through the mirror. “I can see him on his knees, his fist around his cock. His eyes are riveted on my breasts.” She took a shuddering breath. “I imagine a man like Gabriyel can last a long time.” Farjika nodded. “Up and down his hand goes, so slowly I’m entranced by the way his muscles flow. The hunger in his eyes is almost frightening.” Lust had turned his sky-blue eyes dark, like storm clouds, dangerous and full of warning.
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“But he’s well trained. He would never attack you. Or would he?” Errion nipped her shoulder. “I imagine if a man that big were in mind to fuck you, there is little you could do to stop him.” “No, I couldn’t stop him.” Suddenly the image in her mind changed. Gabriyel was on his feet, his cock swaying dangerously side to side as he strode toward her. Once he was near, he lifted her into the air and slammed her down upon his cock, forcing her body to accommodate his tremendous girth. She had no choice but to cling to his massive shoulders as he pumped her up and down, his only goal his own release. When it came, his head went back and he snarled like an animal, thrusting up into her so hard she clung weakly to him, accepting. Behind her, she felt Errion fumbling with something on the back of her odd dress and then the most amazing sensation widened her eyes and dropped her mouth open. The fabric sent shimmering charges across her skin wherever it touched. The feeling became too intense against her clit and she yanked her hand away but leaned forward to give Errion greater access. Each time he slid up and down against her bottom, the fabric shocked her, mildly, just enough to awaken every nerve ending in her body. Squirming now, feeling so empty inside, she didn’t realize she was moaning until Errion again cautioned her to silence. “Naughty girl, one would think you want to be caught.” In a way, she did, because suddenly the thought of playing such a game with the forbidding Gabriyel seemed so shamefully erotic, but in a way, she didn’t, because Gabriyel wouldn’t play along. He’d kill Errion and forcefully take her home no matter how she protested. “I know what you need.” Errion slid his hand down her belly, cupping his fingers over her mound, pressing the fabric against her until she squirmed. “Sweet little empress needs release, don’t you?” Even though she didn’t want to, she nodded. She thought if she didn’t climax soon, she would simply burst into flames. “So do I.” His voice was husky and plaintive, and at that moment, she realized he was in the same dire need as she. “Bend over.” Before she was even aware of what she was doing, she leaned forward, placing her hands against the mirror. Errion yanked at his trousers, freeing his cock. With her bent over, he was able to press more firmly between her cheeks. “I’d love to shove my cock in you.” She braced herself. “But I won’t.” Why she felt a tinge of disappointment she couldn’t say. Perhaps she wanted to feel him inside and compare him to Lorren. Or maybe she just wanted something to fill up all the painful emptiness inside. Using his foot, he forced her legs apart, then fingered her slick folds, tormenting her with the shimmering fabric.
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“I have never met a woman who gets as wet as you.” Up his fingers went inside her, causing her fingertips to grip the smooth surface of the mirror as the charges now surrounded her inside and out. As he pressed into her bottom, he forced the fabric against her, sending pleasurable twitches all along her body. His cock felt hot and hard, and every few strokes he’d center himself against her anus, pressing forward just a bit before sliding back up. Breathing shallowly, waiting for him to penetrate, made her lightheaded and dizzy, but his strong arms held her up as he continued to torment her. “I’ll bet your ass is as tight as your snug little cunny. My cock would barely fit.” Her eyes rolled back as she lifted her head. “How would it feel to have Lorren filling this space”—he thrust his fingers into her twice—“while I fill this one?” Again, he pressed the tip of his cock to her bottom, threatening to push harder, to fill her, and damn her soul to the nothingness but she wanted him to. To feel both men filling her at the same time would finally conquer all vacant space within. “But that wouldn’t be enough for you, would it?” Cracking her eyes open, she was shocked to see that sweat poured down Errion’s face. Blond hair plastered to his forehead as his upper lip curled back into a snarl. He was having just as much difficulty breathing as she was. His chest rose and fell, but still he pumped his fingers into her as he rubbed his cock faster against her ass. “Not enough?” she asked. “Not for you, you greedy little empress.” Errion held her very steady as he urged just the tip of his cock inside her, shoving the fabric in as well, scraping her and shooting sparks over her body in a pulsing rhythm. “You’d need a cock in your mouth too. A nice thick cock that would silence you as we take our pleasure.” The image he created in her mind pushed her over the edge, and she climaxed in waves. Hanging her head down in an effort to ride the contractions out, she uttered gasping cries as she felt Errion lean against her, his hand stroking his shaft as he held the tip just within her bottom. He released inside her, his breath hot as he chewed and kissed her shoulder. When she looked down, the mirror on the floor showed her breasts dangling over the edge of the curious dress in a vulgar yet sexy way, Errion’s hairy legs between hers, his hand still cupped to her sex, and her thoroughly satisfied face. As she leaned up, ready to turn into Errion’s embrace, her gaze locked on the mirror. Sky-blue eyes bored into hers as nostrils flared. A flurry of emotions darted across a face that had always been reassuringly stoic. Not anymore. Gabriyel ran the gamut from shock to fury to disappointment to arousal and so many others that she couldn’t name them all. In the end, his eyes narrowed. As he reached out to Errion with one mighty hand, his eyes suddenly rolled back in his head. Wobbling, his arms out in an effort to balance himself, Gabriyel crumpled to the floor.
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Chapter Fourteen
Head splitting, Gabriyel awoke with his arms bound behind him. He was slumped in a sitting position on a narrow bed with only a basin and sink for company. Across from the bunk was a row of metal bars. Prison. No windows, only rough-cut rock walls and sparse light spilling into his puny cell from the hallway. It seemed every civilized world had the same basic idea of how to incarcerate a man. He knew why he was locked up. He’d tried to save Farjika from that arrogant barsita, and someone had come up behind him and drugged him. His right buttock still stung from where they’d injected him. Just what had Farjika gotten herself mixed up in? When he’d heard her whimpers, he’d listened intently, not sure if they were pleasure or pain, but when he’d snuck up on the room and found that boy trying to penetrate her bottom, he knew she must be in pain. She’d been bent over, her breasts bared, her head down, mewling as Errion mauled her. When she looked up and he saw the unmistakable satisfaction on her face, he hadn’t known how to react. Too many emotions burst inside his skull, but the one he felt most deeply, the one he clung to most strongly, was jealousy. Here was a woman who could have her pick of any man in the universe, yet she let a boy ravage her tender bottom? And not even well, from what Gabriyel could see. If nothing else, Errion could have at least lifted her skirt. What kind of idiot tried to penetrate a woman through the fabric of her clothing? Alien world or not, Gabriyel had never heard of such nonsense. And then, against his will, he pictured the look of contentment on her face. To his dismay, he hardened. He shot to his feet and paced the tiny length of his cell. How could she have enjoyed herself? Was she so innocent of sexual encounters she had no idea what a man and a woman should do together? Gabriyel was no prude, but to his mind, that was what one man did with another man when there were no women available. He himself had taken his ease with other guards when he was younger. As he’d gotten older and moved up in rank, he could afford to indulge himself with a paid woman, a yondie, who would do things like that…for a price. Not that he’d ever asked. He enjoyed the slick heat of a woman’s cunt. And why would he pay for what he could easily get from another guard? No matter what, he would never do that to Farjika. She should be laid down upon astle sheets, her tender skin pampered by perfumed lotions, her body gently teased with fingers, tongue and lips and then, only when she was slick and ready, should he fill her with his throbbing cock.
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He stopped and closed his eyes, shaking his head. Not him, but some man, a worthy man, should fill her slowly, easing into her slick heat, watching her face for any sign of discomfort. He wouldn’t take his eyes from her for a moment as she wrapped her legs around his hips and urged him to slide his cock so deeply inside her he—no, not him, but the man she chose as her lover should treat her as delicately as glass. Farjika should be honored. Her body treated with respect. She shouldn’t be subjected to two perverted boys who clearly didn’t know what they were doing. As if he’d summoned him, Errion walked up to the wall of metal bars. “Well, well, look who’s awake.” Gabriyel looked at him but said nothing. Errion did not know he understood everything he said. He was afraid he would only try to taunt him more if he knew. Errion’s gaze traveled down Gabriyel’s body. He whistled lightly and grinned. “And it looks like all of you is awake.” Gabriyel didn’t have to look down to know that he was hard. He felt his cock pressing against the rough fabric of his loincloth. Today the time for tribute had come. He’d been waiting all cycle to think upon Farjika as he took his shaft in hand. A curious shame caused him to glance away; how dare he think what he did about Farjika when he was supposed to protect her. When he got them out of this, and he vowed that he would, he would never again indulge in such perverted thoughts about her. Once they returned to Diola, he would offer reparations to the gods for his transgressions. “I just hate to think of a man like you suffering.” Errion considered him for a moment, then called out for someone. Two metal men entered Gabriyel’s cell. He struggled, but they were impossibly strong and he was still a bit dazed from whatever he’d been injected with. In short order, they had him chained to the wall with his arms extended out to shoulder height and his legs bound together with his feet flat on the floor. Once the robots had him secured, they left, and Errion entered. From his curious position, Gabriyel had no idea what Errion intended. Clearly, he wasn’t going to force him to take his prick in his mouth, not unless he could levitate off the floor quite a distance, and with his back to the wall, he wasn’t going to penetrate him either. Still, Gabriyel knew the depraved boy had something in mind, judging by the unsettling look on his face. Somehow, for a rather handsome man, Errion managed to cast his features into such a twisted lust-filled visage that perversion practically oozed from him. Unable to do anything, Gabriyel glared at Errion, hoping his glowering would frighten him away. It didn’t. In fact, the sterner he looked, the brighter Errion smiled. “You are just the meanest-looking man.” Errion stroked his hand over Gabriyel’s chest. “And all these muscles. Truly, on all of Avalith, I don’t think there is a man as strong as you.”
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His touch was surprisingly strong and sure, as if he had every right to touch Gabriyel in such a way. Trailing his hand down, he cupped Gabriyel through his loincloth, causing Gabriyel to suck air through gritted teeth. “What a mighty prick you have too.” He squeezed gently, as if testing the weight and appreciating the girth. Gabriyel tried not to squirm, but he did anyway. A cycle of deliberately denying himself had left him vulnerable to even the slightest caress. “I wonder how many times you’ve thought of sliding your prick into the woman you’re sworn to protect?” Only by a lifetime of discipline was Gabriyel able to keep his features blank. Errion’s eyes riveted to his face, watching for any flicker of comprehension. Gabriyel refused to give him what he sought. “She’s such a charming little creature. Innocent and curious.” Errion slid his hand under the cloth, making direct contact, causing Gabriyel to close his eyes. To climax in this man’s hand would be a shame he would never come back from. Errion’s hand was warm and firm, knowing exactly where to touch to make Gabriyel struggle, jiggling the chains with a merry sound in direct contrast to his misery. As Errion leaned close, Gabriyel could smell his spicy and alien cologne. On his breath, he smelled alcohol of some kind, but not an excessive amount. The boy didn’t need to find his courage in a bottle. Not that he needed much courage to fondle a man chained to a wall. Lowering his head, Errion took one of Gabriyel’s nipples into his mouth as he continued his expert caressing. Sucking and biting caused Gabriyel to struggle again in earnest. He begged every god he knew not to let him shame himself. Laughing, Errion released him and stepped back. “Hmm. Let us see all of you.” He reached out and removed Gabriyel’s loincloth. Again he whistled. “Magnificent.” Leaning close, he inspected his cock from the edge of his balls to the tip of his slick head. His hot breath teased his tormented flesh anew. “I have never seen such a beautiful prick.” Gabriyel stared down at his blond head, desperately trying to slow his breathing. If he continued at this frantic pace, he feared he’d pass out. Slow, even breaths helped him find a measure of control, but then, after a deliberate smirk, Errion leaned forward and wrapped his mouth around Gabriyel’s cock. Hissing in a breath, he closed his eyes and pressed his head against the stone wall, hoping the pain would lessen the building pressure. Errion’s mouth was hot and slick. His incredibly educated tongue slid around the most sensitive spot just below the head of his prick. Expertly he flicked his tongue as he cupped his balls, cradling them in his hand, teasing his fingers up behind until he smoothed one fingertip against his anus. Crying out in a strangled combination of pleasure, shame and dire need, Gabriyel inadvertently rocked his hips forward, plunging his prick deep into Errion’s throat. Like a true master, Errion took what he gave without hesitation. Right down to the base, he sucked his cock all the way inside as his skilled finger teased against his ass.
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Just as Gabriyel was on the verge of a spine-shattering climax, Errion withdrew. Gabriyel wanted to whimper in frustration but seasons of discipline held his agony within. Instead, he gripped the wall chains in his fists and squeezed as hard as he could. Errion didn’t need to know he was imagining his massive hands around the back of his head as he forced him to finish what he started. Shoving his cock into that smug face, wiping his perverted grin away with a gushing climax, would be incredibly satisfying. Still, Gabriyel was pleased to see Errion was not immune to his actions. Against the silky fabric of Errion’s loose green trousers, his erection smeared a wet spot that seemed to be growing. At this point, Gabriyel was in such pain he didn’t care if Errion took his pleasure with him as long as he gave him satisfaction. However, Gabriyel despaired because this was probably Errion’s intent, to torture him with climax denied. Genuine fear tensed Gabriyel’s muscles. How many times could he stand to come so close to release only to be denied? And what kind of a man took pleasure in tormenting another in such a way? Beyond his worry for himself loomed a far greater fear for Farjika. Just what kind of torture was he inflicting on her? “Oh, the look on your face is priceless.” Errion laughed as he slowly slid his trousers down, just enough to expose his cock. Prodigiously large but still not as big as his own, Errion’s prick commanded Gabriyel’s attention. The smugness Gabriyel felt at having a bigger cock faded when Errion oozed some clear, slick-looking lotion over his hand, then wrapped his fist around his shaft. Looking right into Gabriyel’s eyes, he began to pump. Leaning back, Errion stroked himself with a casual ease that Gabriyel couldn’t help but observe. He had a trick that prolonged his staying power; every three strokes he’d flick his thumb over the tip, slicking away the moisture into his fist, making the next glide just a bit smoother. Over and again he did the same motion. Gabriyel’s cock strained upward, aching, as if it too watched the display and longed for the same treatment. “When you give tribute, do you do this?” Errion watched his face closely. “Do you make it last because you know you won’t be able to touch yourself for another long while?” Now Errion held his fist still and rocked his hips. “Do you think of Farjika’s sweet little cunny as you pump that huge prick of yours?” Tightening his fist caused the skin of his shaft to bulge as he forced his way within. “Ah, that is how snug she would feel to you. I can just imagine the noises she would make as she lay below you. Your monstrous prick would stretch her beyond endurance, but you wouldn’t stop.” Spurred on by his own words, Errion rocked harder and faster into his hand. “Despite what you think, your needs would override hers, and you’d end up fucking her like the beast you are, like the animal all men are inside.” Errion erupted, spilling his climax on the gray floor as if he offered tribute to Gabriyel. Eyes closed, head back, Errion paused, savoring that moment just after climax when the body found the most blissful peace. Gabriyel almost sobbed. He’d never hurt so deeply inside; he’d never craved release like he did now. If he could not climax, he thought he would cry in frustrated agony, but that would mean Errion had
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won. Digging deep, Gabriyel found the strength to face him without anger or fear, because someday, he would have Errion down on his knees. Gabriyel swore to pay him back in kind for everything he’d done to him this day. Errion smiled widely as he pulled up his trousers. “And there it is. You want revenge. You want to do to me everything and worse that I’ve done to you.” Errion clapped his hands together, the slick lotion giving the slapping flesh a richer sound than dry flesh. “You see? Deep down we’re more alike than you’d like to admit.” As he stepped forward and traced one fingertip along the straining vein that ran the length of Gabriyel’s shaft, he whispered, “I know that you understand everything I’ve said.” Gabriyel considered him but refused to confirm what might only be a test. “You see, it doesn’t make sense that Farjika would have a protector who didn’t understand what those around her were saying.” Errion used his free hand to tap his head. “Logic, my friend.” A thousand vile words were ready to explode from Gabriyel’s lips, but he swallowed them. There was no point denigrating the perverted boy, because Gabriyel suspected he would enjoy such a loss of control immensely. Too, he’d rather suffer than confirm Errion’s suspicion. As long as he didn’t say anything, a bit of doubt would always linger in his mind. Digging even one sliver into his confidence was worth almost any punishment. “Fine, be that way.” Hands on hips, Errion considered him for a long time. “Well, I certainly think it’s vital that a man have a release. I prefer to have mine daily and in the most creative way possible, but for you, well, being from another planet means you’ve never seen some of the things I take for granted.” Errion snapped his fingers, and another metal person entered, but this one was dressed like a woman. The robot rolled toward Errion. Using clear, concise commands, Errion ordered the robot to suck Gabriyel. Horrified that the machine would mangle his cock, he struggled so valiantly he actually loosened one of the bolts that held his right arm to the wall. Grit fell onto the floor, prompting Errion’s eyes to widen as he took a fearful step back. “Calm yourself, my friend.” Errion stopped the robot, then lifted both hands palm up and out to Gabriyel. “She isn’t going to hurt you.” Errion slipped his finger in her mouth, fished it around a bit and withdrew it undamaged. Shaking his head, his genuine terror so profound his erection had almost disappeared, Gabriyel screamed as she descended. Her golden metallic face blank, the metal woman bent over and sucked his deflating cock right into her mouth. Panic gave way to shocking pleasure, ending his scream on a startled gasp. Never had Gabriyel felt anything like her throat. She was soft, slick, and undulated along his length, rapidly returning him to full hardness. Rather than being cold, she was warm, and curiously, she made subtle choking noises that only enhanced the experience by making Gabriyel feel massive as she worked to take him within.
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Errion slapped his hand against her back, a metallic note booming off the stone walls. “Excellent, is she not?” With a pout, he added, “I hate to admit this, but after much work, I do believe she’s actually better than I am.” Gabriyel hardly heard him. He was so intent on climaxing he closed his eyes, praying hard that Errion would simply disappear. No such luck. As the robot continued, Errion settled on the narrow bed, presumably to watch. Gabriyel knew because he heard the metal creak as he settled in. Cracking one eye open, Gabriyel looked over and spied Errion, hands behind his head, legs crossed, casually watching Gabriyel succumb to the most amazing oral sex he’d ever experienced. What Errion had done to him was better than what any other person, male or female, had done for him, but what the robot was doing took Errion’s skill level and magnified it tenfold. Unlike a human, she didn’t need to breathe, she didn’t care if he jerked his hips forward, and she didn’t gag on his unusual length. Emitting lifelike noises and clamping down erratically simulated what many had felt with his cock buried in their mouths, but knowing that she could not be hurt released him from worry, freeing him to indulge completely in the experience. Somehow, she sensed the inevitable rising up through his body, and she increased the squeezes along his shaft as something at the bottom of her throat twisted around the head of his cock. The sensations were unbelievable, and when he came, his whole body tensed, surging forward, loosening the bolt a little more, which caused Errion to jump to his feet and move to the other side of the bars. Gabriyel tossed back his head and inadvertently howled as he gushed inside her, marveling at how she swallowed him with a gentle easing of her grip on him. Gingerly she brought him back to reality before she released him. Standing upright, she stood before him, her strange inhuman face oddly blank. “Lorren calls it the ‘agony of ecstasy’, and judging by your expression, I’d say the phrase is utterly apropos.” Gabriyel slumped in his restraints, his body drained, his mind empty of all thoughts. For the first time in a very long time, he was not tormented by longings for a woman he simply could not have. Looking up at the robot, he wondered how much such a thing would cost. Then he thought that when he escaped with Farjika, he would simply steal the mechanical woman. Had he something like this in his lonely room, he thought he wouldn’t be quite so miserable, and perhaps he could banish thoughts of Farjika for good.
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Chapter Fifteen
Lorren doubted what Errion told him, but when Farjika backed him up, he had no choice but to accept that the evening’s entertainment was entirely at her behest. “I want to try new things.” “New? How have you had time to become bored with old things?” His pointed question caused her to drop her gaze as her cheeks flushed. Damn. The last thing he wanted to do was inhibit her burgeoning sexuality. “I mean I’m just not sure how you would even get such an idea.” Farjika had picked the one thing in which Errion specialized. Lorren figured the odds of that were astronomical. Clearly, more than shopping had transpired during their day together while he’d been hard at work. However, Errion was conspicuously absent when Farjika settled in to share the details of her idea. Sitting on the opposite end of the divan, dressed in the most amazing golden garment that clung to her as closely as the dress from the night before had, she looked even more like an untouchable goddess. “That’s what gave me the idea.” Lowering her eyes demurely, she pointed to the statue in the parlor where they sat, drinks in hand, as he unwound from work. His heart hammered as he pictured her incredible body bound by decorative twists of rope. For an innocent, she seemed remarkably at ease with some of the more kinky aspects of sex. Again, he suspected Errion, but he could hardly call him out, especially when her suggestion instantly hardened him against his trousers. Loosening his tie, he took a deep swallow of his drink and considered the burnished depiction of a bound woman surrendering to a dominant male. In the corner of his mind, the beast stirred. Ever so slowly, the creature shuffled forth, pulling the chains taut. Too easily, he saw her as the head-lowered woman and himself plowing hard between her legs, his head back and a snarl on his lips as he pumped his climax within her silky depths. Lorren considered Farjika, who deliberately met and held his gaze. She’d swept her black hair up and gathered the strands into a decorative bun at the back of her head, displaying her neck as the golden dress dropped low, showing off her shoulders. Turning her head up and slightly to the side cast the light across her high cheekbones and full lips. She held his gaze so determinedly it was almost as if she threw out a challenge. Her trickery this morning had been shocking, but once Lorren thought on Errion sneaking in to watch them, he had to laugh. He honestly didn’t think Farjika had anything to do with him coming in. Errion had blamed her to stir up trouble. But why had Farjika gone
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along with him? Embarrassment? Did she think it was better to pretend to be in on the joke than to be the subject of it? Lorren didn’t think she’d known Errion was there until she’d straddled his hips. The moment when he’d seen him, climaxing as he slumped in the dressing chair, Lorren had felt utterly exposed and violated. He’d never had Errion sneak up on him during a dalliance. Always he’d known when Errion was near. That he’d been so wrapped up in Farjika he’d become oblivious to what was going on around him was shocking. If he were very honest with himself, losing his awareness was frightening. Never had he been so consumed by a woman that the rest of the world had fallen away. Tossing back his drink, he again wondered what was going on between her and Errion. Jealousy edged around him, tightening him despite the relaxing effects of the alcohol, but how could he say anything? Farjika was free to do whatever she pleased. Again, the beast slid closer to the light. With him in control of her, she’d be able to do only what he said, when he said. If she disobeyed, he’d punish her. Judging by the arrogant cast of her face, she would probably defy him often. Another surge stiffened him, making his position on the couch uncomfortable. Setting his glass on the table, he stood and hastily adjusted himself while he had his back to Farjika. “Are you angry?” He turned, taken aback by the misery in her eyes. “No. I’m…perplexed.” Truly, he wasn’t upset, but in some way, he was disappointed. He’d thought Farjika would be the one to free him from the depraved craziness that he’d indulged in for so long. Instead, he and Errion had managed to pull her right down into their swill. Before she’d met him, she was lovely and innocent, and now he’d debauched her. Perversely, it only made him desire her more. A hundred new ways to further corrupt her crept into his mind. He deliberately chased them away, but not before desire spiked fresh tension into his body. “What perplexes you?” Grabbing his crystal glass, he held it out to the butler for a refill, ruminating on his answer. “I expected something else.” After a very long moment where the sound of liquid pouring into his glass seemed remarkably loud, she snarled, “Something more ladylike?” Her voice cut hard against his ears, causing him to turn halfway through a sip of his drink. Facing her over the edge of his glass, he saw raw fury stiffen her neck and straighten her shoulders. She deliberately set her untouched drink none too gently on the table. With smooth grace, she stood and faced him, hands on hips. “I find I am tired of living up to everyone’s image of me.” Both his brows lifted high on his forehead. Lorren had no idea what prompted her sudden upset, but he would dutifully stand and listen. Frankly, her fortitude was impressive. Never had a woman of Avalith upbraided him. Even as a child, his mother demurred to his father for both physical and verbal punishment.
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Perhaps that’s why so many Avalith men craved the domination of a strong woman; all they’d ever known was discipline from a strong man. Lorren wasn’t sure what Farjika wished to harangue him for, but he simply couldn’t wait to find out. “You are just like all the other men, thinking I’m one way or another, and never bothering to ask and find out what’s inside.” Dramatically, she thumped her chest, which caused her spectacular breasts to jiggle against the golden fabric. “Every one of you wants something from me, or expects something of me, and when you don’t get what you crave, you will go to ridiculous lengths to blame me for your own idiocy!” Stunned by her sudden and overwhelming outburst, Lorren cupped his glass and calmly stood there as she vented. In her righteous indignation, she was magnificent. He was trying to focus on her words, and he heard what she said, but also, in the back of his mind, he was picturing her dressed in black and standing over a quivering slave. Not him, of course, as he was too deeply entrenched in dominating to ever be submissive, but Errion could switch sides almost effortlessly. Errion did prefer the domination of a man, which Lorren now realized might stem from his lack of a relationship with his father, but there had been times when Errion had surrendered his will to a woman; although, to be fair, never to one as strong-willed as Farjika. What would she do to him given the chance? “All my life I have done what I’m told. Gabriyel wants me to stay a meek little girl forever, you expect me to be a sophisticated lady, but also I must maintain my innocence, and Errion—” She cut herself off and looked away. “What about me?” Errion entered the parlor wearing a fresh pair of silk pajama bottoms. Hunter green showed off his light tan, his eyes and the brightness of his blond hair. He’d left his golden strands in practiced disarray. Overall, the effect was one of casual indifference, but Lorren suspected he’d taken great care preparing for this evening. Regardless of what Farjika said, this was all Errion’s idea. Lorren would stake his very life on that fact. Striding up to the butler, Errion ordered a drink. Once he had the squat glass in hand, he turned and lifted an inquiring glance to Farjika. “What about me?” Errion asked again, slowing the words, making his voice as sharply pointed as the crossed blades above the fireplace. “Nothing.” Leaning over, exposing a fantastic view of her barely concealed breasts, Farjika retrieved her cup from the table. Rather than drink, she clutched it in both hands as if for protection. She gripped the thick glass as if neither man could lunge at her if she had a drink. Like that would stop them. The threat of liquid staining their plush surroundings meant little to men who could afford to replace the entire manor many times over. Still, her behavior was oddly telling; she felt she needed fortification from them. Lorren’s mind glitched. Why would she stay if she were afraid? “Did something happen while you two were shopping?” Lorren tossed the question out, but he didn’t actually expect an answer. Something was going on between them, but Lorren had no idea what. He
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doubted either one would share. As willing as he was to participate in whatever scheme they’d concocted, he’d still like to understand what drove the undercurrents. Tension filled the room like an unwanted guest. “Tell him,” Errion encouraged, saluting her with his glass. Eyes going wide, Farjika’s mouth dropped open, then closed abruptly. Gritting her teeth, she defiantly glared at Errion and said, “You tell him.” “Ladies first.” Errion considered her as he sipped his drink. “As I was just informing Lorren, I am no lady.” As if to prove her point, she quaffed her drink in one gulp. Lorren thought for sure her eyes would bulge and she’d gag on the brandy, if not the fumes, but she handled the shot as well as any man. His estimation of her as a dominatrix went up another notch, not only for the drink but for the way she’d deftly tossed the elusive answer back onto Errion. For once, Errion’s smug little smile faded. He clearly was not expecting her to defy him so openly nor so thoroughly. Lorren’s curiosity was almost as piqued as his lust. For a moment, he actually considered binding both of them until he got an answer. As appealing as that idea was to his beast, doing so would take all the fun out of watching them struggle for the upper hand. Farjika held her own, refusing to back down despite her apprehension. Rather than fiddle with her empty glass, she turned and held it out to Lorren. Nodding, he dutifully fetched her another drink. When he handed it to her, his fingertips brushed against her hand, and he almost felt sparks. She was practically vibrating. But with what? He couldn’t tell if fear, fury, or flat-out indignation fueled her behavior. Whatever it was, her eyes sparkled, and her entire face and body came alive, almost surging forward. “Thank you.” “You’re welcome.” Lorren’s practiced bow elicited a brief smile that vanished when she again considered Errion. “You don’t have to be embarrassed about what happened at one of the shops today.” Errion moved purposely toward the statue of the bound woman. Trailing his fingers along the rope between her breasts, he swirled his drink in his hand. “I’m quite sure Lorren would completely understand.” As Lorren watched her watching Errion, he was stunned to see her nipples harden and the drink in her hand tremble enough to splash against her fist. Errion might enrage her, but something about him inadvertently excited her. Coming to her rescue, Lorren took the drink back and set it aside on the table along with his own. “Tell me, Farjika.” Deliberately, he stood between her and Errion, blocking her view of him. Without her heels on, Farjika had to tilt her head back quite a ways to meet his gaze. When she did, she swallowed. “He made me…” She couldn’t finish the thought. “I made you?” Errion asked from across the room. “Tell him the truth, Farjika.”
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Lorren didn’t think she really needed to. He had a pretty good idea of what Errion had done. Somehow, he’d backed her into a corner and compelled her to act out one of his perverted little dreams. Errion had a real knack for manipulating people. Often they thought what he’d gotten them to do was their own idea. Leaning close, taking a long, deep breath of her exotic scent, Lorren cupped her chin with one hand as he traced his thumb across her lips. “Were you a bad girl?” She shivered as her eyes closed. “She was a very bad girl,” Errion confirmed. Ignoring him, Lorren’s entire body drew ready when he lifted her head, exposing the full length of her vulnerable neck. Her breath caught as his lips descended. Just before he made contact, he asked, “Should I punish you?” The enormous freestanding clock ticked loudly as her pulse danced against his hand. Disappointed, he was on the verge of pulling back when she softly whispered, “Yes.” “Yes, what?” he asked, holding steady. “You should punish me.” Pleased, he placed a delicate kiss just above her collarbone, then pulled away to study her face. “You let him touch you, didn’t you?” She nodded. “Did you let him fuck you?” Unconsciously, his fingers tightened on her chin. The thought of Errion within her grasping heat infuriated him. Before she could answer, Errion sidled near. “Tell him where you let me put my cock.” Eyes downcast, Farjika murmured, “In my bottom.” Lorren’s nostrils flared as fury filled him, but he didn’t take his gaze from Farjika. “That’s right, dear pal, I took the very last of her virginity. Mouth, cunny, bottom. Between the two of us, she’s been well indoctrinated.” “Only the tip.” Farjika frowned at Errion, then lowered her gaze submissively to Lorren. “He didn’t go all the way in.” Frustrated that Errion stole something valuable from him, Lorren decided there was nothing to be done about the situation now. What was gone was gone. Besides, her surrender to Errion gave Lorren all the permission he needed to indulge his beast. “Still, you let him find his pleasure with you, and I didn’t give you permission, did I?” “No.” Lifting her gaze slightly, she added, “But he made me.” Of that, Lorren had no doubt, but he wasn’t about to release her from responsibility. “You let him make you.” She opened her mouth, but he cut her off. “Don’t argue with me, or I’ll make your punishment worse.”
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Trembling, she closed her mouth and stood very still. “So, what will we make her do first?” Errion was practically drooling as he wrapped his arm across Lorren’s shoulders. “Get your ropes.” Farjika’s head popped up. Surprise twisted her features as she watched Errion hurry from the room. “I knew it wasn’t your idea. But since you submitted to him once, a second time won’t hurt.” Lorren slid his hand down from her chin to her neck, then across the tops of her breasts. “How conflicted you must be inside, Farjika. Wanting independence, standing up for yourself, then turning right around and submitting not only to your true master, but apparently to any man who orders you about.” Circling her nipples with his forefinger, he made a slow trace around one, then the other, hardening them and causing her breath to catch. “Tell me, if one of your guards told you to suck his cock, would you?” “No!” The answer came automatically. “They are my slaves, not I theirs.” She rolled her eyes as if the entire idea were ludicrous. Lifting both hands, encircling her nipples and twisting slowly and firmly, he asked, “And if I ordered you on your knees and told you to suck one of them off, would you?” Like last night, she considered for a moment, then decided that he likely would never do such a thing, so she answered affirmatively. “That’s good, Farjika.” He released her nipples. “I’d like to watch the stunned face of one of your guards as you were forced to pleasure him.” Tauntingly, he fingered her mouth. “I dare say watching his confusion, his mix of longing to and terror of creaming down your throat would be a most delightful struggle.” Errion stood impatiently waiting for Lorren to finish teasing Farjika. Lorren sensed Errion’s excitement and his belief that he would be allowed to do whatever he pleased to her. Lorren removed his jacket and settled into the couch, drink in hand. He watched as Errion took Farjika to the center of the room and had her disrobe. As Lorren enjoyed the slow revelation of her amazing form, he popped apart the restrictive buttons of his shirt. Lorren sipped from his drink to hide a smirk that rivaled Errion’s in wickedness. Little did Errion realize that he too would suffer a punishment far worse than what he had planned for Farjika.
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Chapter Sixteen
Draping the pre-fashioned collar of woven crimson rope around Farjika’s neck caused her to tense so drastically that Errion feared she’d pass out. “Take a deep breath,” he offered quietly as he fastened the tiny clasps. He double-checked that the collar was loose against her seductively long neck. Per his rigorous demands, the taru fit her perfectly. Standing to her side, adjusting the lengths of rope around her body, he used her head to block Lorren’s view of his mouth. Errion didn’t want Lorren to catch him doing anything to calm Farjika when such was in direct contrast to Lorren’s desire to punish her. When she breathed in, her bare breasts rose. Her softly peaked nipples trembled ever so slightly as a line of silk rope, a fen, rolled across her chest, then fell, centered directly from her neck to her feet. She seemed to calm as he strategically placed the nine lengths of rope around her. To his shock, his hands trembled. Excitement surged Errion to sharp awareness. After practicing the art of Fentaru for over fifteen turns, Errion considered himself a master, but he’d never decorated such a perfect body. If the divine crafted any woman for the art, He created Farjika. Her figure was flawlessly balanced to display all nine Fentaru forms. Draping the nine fen around her caused him to quiver, because she was perfectly balanced to the nines. Errion’s hand shivered with an inherent fear that he would never be able to display her adequately to such a connoisseur as Lorren. In a perplexing mix, Errion stiffened, determined to deliver beyond Lorren’s demanding expectations and his own. Just when Errion thought they were ready to proceed, Farjika glanced over and saw a series of sharp implements on a nearby table. Her eyes went so wide they practically swallowed her face. “Those are to cut you free in case of an emergency.” Errion kept his voice low and soothing. He enjoyed tormenting her, but this was neither the time nor place. Fentaru, or decorative rope binding, was not necessarily a dangerous indulgence, but Errion always kept a variety of knives and scissors handy in the event that something went wrong. Sometimes even experienced practitioners panicked and twisted the strands so hopelessly that they cut off blood flow to an appendage. “Being prepared is being prudent.” Farjika looked into his eyes as if gauging his honesty. “How can I possibly trust you?” “Ah, the crux of the matter.” Errion didn’t blame her one bit for doubting him. So far, all he’d done was endlessly torment her in an effort to bend her to his will. To his eternal consternation, she submitted,
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but she did so only after defying him at every turn. Errion admired and disliked her in alternate waves, but not because of her—more so over his own reaction to her. It pleased him to be attracted to such an interesting and accomplished woman, but he also despaired that she would ever find him as fascinating as he found her. Worse, Farjika would never surrender her will to him the way she did to Lorren. Lorren had nothing over her head, and yet she let him boss her without question. Not only did Errion have the images of her on stage, but he also had the captain of her guard imprisoned below. That should have been enough to ensure her compliance, and yet it wasn’t. Still, he must reassure her, for without trust, the stunning art of Fentaru could not be fully expressed. Tapping the end of her nose softly with his finger, Errion asked, “Do you honestly think Lorren would sit there and watch me strangle you or hack you to pieces?” Farjika smiled. Wanly, but still, she offered up a hesitant smile. “Of course not,” he admonished. “And my desire isn’t to hurt you. Fentaru is decorative, not restrictive.” Errion traced the fen that fell between her breasts. “The first night I met you, I commissioned this taru.” Errion encircled her neck, displaying the terms as he hoped to dispel her fears. He’d paid an exorbitant fee for an expedient collar, as glistening crimson was not a color they held in stock. However, the shop was more than happy to procure the crimson strands of silk and compel a dozen workers to bind them in the proscribed order, then bring the finished product to his manor within a bare quarter spin. “Please don’t hurt me.” Her voice was so low, so clear and plaintive, she almost brought tears to his eyes. “I would never hurt you.” Errion held her gaze, his hand ready to fashion the first form against her body. “I seek only to please you.” Lifting the center strand, he stepped out and wrapped the crimson cord around his fist, measuring the distance for the first of five knots. Once he had the mark, he quickly formed the knot. Before he tightened it, he pressed it close to her, to make sure the first and most critical knot was in the proper place. Ensuring it was, he tightened the rope, then pressed the crimson length against her torso again. The trifold knot he’d fashioned pressed against her belly button, but not for long. Yanking the rope away, Errion considered Farjika’s concerned face as he placed the strand against her, measured the length to her clit, and then pulled back. Repeatedly, Errion took the center fen in hand, fashioned a knot, checked it against her body, and then pulled it away to tie yet another. Of the nine forms, this was the most critical. Once he had the series of knots expertly situated upon the center strand, he slipped the rope between her legs, then pulled it up her back, fastening it to a loop at the back of her collar. He used a knot to hold it in place, then cut the excess line away. Farjika emitted a soft little moan as she rolled her body, testing the feel of the first form.
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“Each fen will have strategically placed knots that will press upon the energy points of your body.” Errion readied the two strands for the second form, draping them down her back on either side of the first line. “It feels good.” Her voice held a stunned kind of wonder that didn’t surprise him. Many people were shocked when they discovered the inherit eroticism in bondage. “The more forms I complete, the better it will feel.” What he didn’t mention was that this particular technique would stimulate her entire body, but she would be unable to find release, not until she was freed of the center line, which was why that particular form was so critical for the overall success of the encounter. Farjika lost her fear and now stood relaxed, allowing the knots to press lightly but firmly against her belly button, clit, the opening of her passage, her anus, and the center of her back. Pleased, Errion smiled as he drew two strands down the center line behind her. Using the knot at her back, the one he’d purposely left loose, he slipped the two strands through the knot, then around her torso, just under her breasts, with a knot placed in line with her nipple, then back around, tying the ends together. With the second form done, he moved on to the next but not before he shot a quick glance to Lorren. Relaxed against the couch, Lorren missed nothing as he watched Errion work. Lorren caught his gaze and saluted him with his drink. Per the principles of Fentaru, Lorren would not say or do anything; he would simply watch Errion display the beauty of Farjika’s body with crimson rope. From the front of the taru, Errion pulled two lines over her left breast, capturing her nipple between them. Rolling her nipple caused it to tighten and allowed him to place the strands just behind her erect nipple, pinching it with the silken rope. With a little gasp, she thrust her chest forward, allowing him to fasten the rope around the line under her breast. He repeated the steps on her right breast, leaving the ends of the line free for now. With the third and fourth forms complete, he took a step back to admire his handiwork. Praise be to Raylor! Just as he suspected, she was perfectly balanced for the art. Even after his encounter with Gabriyel, which he’d hoped would keep his excitement at bay while he worked, his cock pressed against his silk pants. It didn’t help matters that he could smell Farjika’s arousal as she occasionally squirmed against the knot pressed against her clit. And his quick glance to Lorren revealed that his cock was at full attention and barely contained within his dress slacks. “I want to see myself.” Errion shook his head. “Not until I’m finished.” Capturing the loose lines below each breast, he pulled the four ropes behind her, looped them against each other, and then drew them around her waist, knotting them just above the knot at her belly button. Quickly he fashioned them across her hips. The main purpose of the fifth form was to press the first form more firmly to her body. He knew he’d succeeded when she sighed and rocked her hips just a bit, just enough to feel the knots tickle between her legs.
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Moving behind her, Errion used the line at her waist to anchor the next line, drawing it down the back of her left leg, placing knots at two spots behind her knee, one on her ankle, and one along the arch of her foot. Repeating the motions on her right leg, he stretched and took a moment to admire her from behind. Lorren could see her only from the side, which built his anticipation for the revelation of her fully bound form. Next, he ran a line down her left arm, placing knots at the inner bend of her elbow, several on her wrist and one centered in the palm of her hand. He couldn’t help but admire how the glittering crimson rope complemented her caramel skin. If Errion had his way, she would never wear anything but Fentaru. Eager to finish, he had to forcefully remind himself to slow down. In his haste, he didn’t want to misplace a single knot, as doing so would ruin the entire effect. He finished the other form along her right arm and then readied himself for the finale. With a deep breath, he stood and considered how to execute the last form. This was Errion’s favorite part. Never had he done the same thing twice. Each time was about displaying his artistry in the best possible way. He also wanted the maximum pleasure for both the bound person and the watcher. Above Farjika’s head, tucked into a flap in the ceiling, hung the final set of fens. These were the only ropes that did not come from the taru around her neck. They were thick black lines used to display her like the art she’d become. When he’d decided to go with something simple that would not frighten her, he stepped behind her and pressed a button below the table that held his knives and scissors. The final four lines silently unfurled. They were anchored to a metal beam that could hold many times the weight of any human. Placing a simple stool behind her, he eased her onto the edge of the seat. The four-legged stool was a little less than the height of her bottom. It would help her balance as he attached the lines and positioned her. Tying two of the lines together, he placed a thick piece of animal hide upon the rope to cushion her. Only when the subject wanted pain did Errion dispense with this part, but that was not the case with Farjika. Easing her backward, he placed the cushioned line along her upper back, just above the knot, so that it cradled her. He had her grasp the ropes in her hands to prevent any slippage. Then he looped the other two strands around her knees, again with leather cushions, so that her legs were lifted and parted. He did not remove the stool because that would keep her from spinning and would ensure there would not be too much weight on the tender flesh behind her knees. Errion stepped back and smiled. “You are the most lovely of any creation I’ve ever made.” He was afraid he would not be able to do her magnificent body justice, but he’d succeeded beyond his wildest expectations. She was stunning. With her legs parted, he saw that she had soaked the entire knot that pressed against the opening of her cunny. So wet was she that she’d saturated the rope all the way up to her clit. Drawing his gaze down, he surmised she’d soaked it clear through to the knot against her tender bottom as well. Both nipples stood firm, pinched between the ropes. Her face was flushed, but not with
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embarrassment. Arousal thickened her blood as it pulsed through her body. Dreamy eyes met his, glittering almost as if she were drugged. Many people felt a curious euphoria during Fentaru, but he’d never seen a reaction quite so strong. “How do you feel?” “Beautiful.” She stretched her arms up, holding on to the ropes as she arched her back and pointed her toes. When she leaned her head back, she realized the ceiling tiles had become mirrors. She gave a little gasp of surprised delight, then examined herself from head to toe. “I didn’t see the mirrors before.” “They weren’t there before. I flipped them over when I dropped down the final fens.” He checked the lines on her legs. “Are you comfortable?” She nodded, looking up at herself. Errion turned and offered a sharp bow to Lorren. Lorren set his drink aside and stood. Like the true connoisseur he was, he approached her slowly. As he circled her, his gaze took in everything from the line of her body to the patterns made by the fens to the way the ceiling reflected her image. Errion waited breathlessly for a comment. He’d engaged in Fentaru with Lorren before, but this felt different, more profound. He not only wanted Lorren’s approval, he craved it almost desperately. After the longest time, Lorren said, “You have outdone yourself.” His voice was thick with desire and his golden eyes had turned molten. Just as Farjika reacted intensely to being bound, Lorren reacted just as strongly to seeing her. His cock strained against the fabric of his trousers. Repeatedly he licked his lips as if he couldn’t wait to taste her. Errion’s pride soared. He would give anything to have an image of her bound as she was, but sadly, that would violate the most important rule of Fentaru; it was transitory. True practitioners would never capture an image of one who was bound, as it violated the spirit of the art. Each encounter was a fleeting moment, never to be repeated and never to be enjoyed again. Once he cut her free, the art disappeared. Errion had never liked that restriction, but he honored the constraint as a true master. He had learned his forms at the hand of another master, and he’d passed them along to a handful of others. Such kept their art pure. Lorren stopped circling her and stood between her parted thighs. He drew a deep breath, his eyes closing as he took in the musky scent of her arousal. Reaching out his right hand, he traced over the crimson rope on her left leg. She squirmed helplessly as he pressed the knot on the arch of her foot. Her eyes rolled back in her head as a wave of pure bliss infused her body. Each knot, when pressed, would give a similar reaction. Lorren knew just how hard to press and in which order to give her the most profound pleasure. “Are you enjoying your punishment?” She swallowed and tried to meet his eyes, but she was too enraptured to do more than nod weakly.
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When he pressed the knot on her other foot, she whimpered and gripped the ropes in her hands tighter. This in turn pressed the knots in the palms of her hands, causing her eyes to open in stunned disbelief. “What, what’s—” she stuttered helplessly as Lorren continued pressing the knots as he worked his way up her legs. “Errion told you the truth when he said this type of Fentaru stimulates sexual energy.” Lorren pressed the knots on the sides of her knees simultaneously, which caused her body to buck, almost knocking the stool aside. “What he neglected to tell you was that it rouses energy. It does not release it.” Her eyes widened with understanding. “The energy will build and build until you are cut free.” Lorren slid his hands up the inside of her thighs. “Only then will you climax.”
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Chapter Seventeen
Farjika realized now how this was considered a form of punishment. She didn’t understand that Lorren could torture her with pleasure, as the concept seemed implausible, but she knew he spoke the truth. Every time he touched a knot, her body quivered. Each tap caused her to grow more sensitive. Already her body burned with a need for release and she knew, deep in her soul, her torment had just begun. “I have never seen a more lustful yet terrified expression.” Lorren’s massive hands rested on either side of her sex. They felt heavy and unusually warm. Lifting one hand, looking right into her eyes, he slowly lowered his palm over the knot above her clit. She held her breath, waiting, almost petrified of how good the contact would feel. Heat from his hand penetrated the rope, causing her to gush anew. Every cell in her body wanted to surge forward and yet retreat. The conflict was almost unbearable. Lorren held steady with his palm a fraction away from the knot, his gaze locked on her face. His handsome features seemed hardened, more sinister, almost brutal. His bestial look clashed with his businessman attire, which only added to his authoritative allure. Between her widely spread legs stood an animal dressed in human clothing. He’d fooled everyone, including her, and now she was bound and hanging at his mercy. Farjika felt utterly exposed to him, more so than she had felt while Errion tied her up. Errion’s touch had been almost clinical, his movements precise and practiced. He bound her almost dispassionately, but looking at him now, she saw the hunger in his eyes was just as base as Lorren’s. She realized binding her in the ropes was just the beginning. The real punishment would begin now. “Do you feel the energy building in your flesh?” Lorren’s voice was husky and deep, his eyes penetrating into her psyche. “Do you feel the heat from my hand adding to the inferno that burns along the tender skin of your clit?” She tried to answer him, but all that emerged was a strangled moan. Her tormented body had shortcircuited her brain, and she no longer knew how to form words. He’d reduced her to a grunting animal. Her primitive brain focused on only the basest of needs; the urge to mate. The horrible empty feeling that had plagued her dreams burst into this moment, making her desperate for something, anything, to fill the void within. Lorren chuckled and continued to hold his hand steady. “Now tell me again what you let Errion do to you today.”
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Struggling to form the words, she shook her head. She could see them in her mind, hear them in her mind, but she could not get her mouth to form them. Despairing, because she knew Lorren would not press upon the knot until she answered him, she tried again to tell him. “He put,” was all she could get out. “Yes. He put what?” Lorren asked, helping her confess. “His cock.” “His whole cock?” “The head.” “Where?” Lorren continued to hold his hand steady. “In my bottom.” He frowned so darkly she winced. “Did you like it?” She wanted to lie, to tell him what he clearly wanted to hear, but she thought she’d only get in greater trouble for a fib than the truth. In the end, she nodded. “You enjoyed having the tip of his cock in your tight little ass?” Again, she nodded. Lorren yanked his hand from the clit knot, and she released a disappointed cry. To her shock, he grasped her hips in his hands and pressed her against the seat, pressing the knot firmly against her anus. The bolt of pleasure blinded her. As Lorren held her, she wriggled, rubbing the knot all along her sensitive flesh. The memory of Errion’s cock pressing into her with the charged fabric seemed to echo within, making her feel the same feelings but intensified, as if they weren’t memories of those sensations but were actually happening to her at this very moment. Lorren was speaking, but she couldn’t understand him. She was lost inside her own mind as she replayed the moment of penetration over and over again. Each time she felt her body move closer to climax, but the release never came. As he said, energy built, but there was no outlet. It was as if the knots held everything inside. Blinking rapidly, she looked up at herself in the mirrored ceiling. Her body appeared impossibly long and beautiful, the red rope shimmering against her flesh. Sweat beaded against her forehead, and she felt drops gather under her breasts, soaking the strands that wrapped around her chest. Each body part she turned her gaze upon bloomed into shocking awareness. She swore she could feel individual threads among the thousands that made up each strand of rope. It took a long time for her to realize Lorren was no longer between her legs. Dazed, she lifted her head, and to her shock, she found Gabriyel. Near the far wall he stood, head down, nude, with his arms bound behind his back. Next to him, Errion and Lorren argued, their faces twisted with fury, but she couldn’t understand anything they said.
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In the slow motion of a dream, Lorren grappled with Errion, forcing him down to his knees. Snarling something, he dragged him over to an oddly formed chair that faced away from her and strapped him in. Once Lorren had Errion secured, he looked up and caught her gaze. His upper lip twitched. Dismissing her, he strode over to Gabriyel. Pushing him back against the wall, he forced his head up, then placed a strap around his neck. Gabriyel could not lower his head without strangling himself. “You can’t do this to me!” Errion’s fury pierced through the wall of silence. “I deserve to watch what was my idea!” “Silence, or I’ll find something to shove in your mouth.” Lorren looked right at her as he ripped open his shirt. He didn’t even bother with the buttons—he just wrenched them right off, then tossed the ruined garment away. “This is your punishment for taking what belonged to me.” “But I didn’t go all the way in!” Errion defended. “Virginity is either there or it’s not.” Mortified, Farjika darted her gaze to Gabriyel. He had to know they were talking about her bottom, as she’d already given her most sacred virginity to the Harvester. Gabriyel’s tormented eyes met hers, then closed as if he couldn’t bear to see her like this. Or worse, that he couldn’t save her from the trouble she’d gotten herself into. Rather than returning to the spot between her legs, Lorren came up behind her. Wrapping his arms around her, he cupped her bound breasts, the edge of his hand ready to press the knots centered below. “Look at the captain of your guard.” Farjika did as Lorren ordered. Smooth skin stretched over massive muscles as he strained against his bonds. Every day of their journey, she saw him clothed only in a simple loincloth, but she’d never really seen him, never really looked at him, until now. Gabriyel was male perfection personified. Not attractive in a pretty way as were Lorren and Errion, Gabriyel was handsome in a purely physical, male way. Power, strength, and undeniable vigor embraced his body, making her aware and appreciative of the fact that she was feminine. Yet, despite his enormous size and unquestionable force, Gabriyel was the gentlest man she knew. Even with his men, he did not raise his voice. He didn’t need to yell to be obeyed. Unlike most men, he possessed a quiet strength. Gabriyel kept his eyes tightly closed, but a well-placed threat from Lorren opened them right up. “If you defy me in any way, I will punish her.” Sky-blue eyes focused on her eyes, as if he were determined not to look beyond her face. Apparently, he’d decided to drop the notion that he did not understand their language. Despite his words, Lorren proceeded to punish her anyway. Pressing the knots below her breasts caused her to drop against the edge of the stool, which pressed the knot against her bottom. More energy filled her already overwhelmed body, causing her to cry out desperately. “Tell me what you want.”
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Farjika tried to form the words. “I want.” “What?” Lorren’s voice was harsh against her ear as he kicked the stool away. Swaying now, the pressure off the bottom knot but now firm against the ones at the back of her knees, she begged, “Please.” “Tell me what you want.” “Release.” Slumping in her sling, she closed her eyes, ashamed that Gabriyel had to witness her submission. He would never be able to look at her the same way again, nor she him. “Look at him,” Lorren ordered, as if he’d read her mind. Opening her eyes, she returned her gaze to Gabriyel. “Look at how hard his cock is.” Lorren lifted up and ran his hands along her arms, pressing the knots as he went, making her squirm in midair. “What do you think he wants?” Fully formed, the answer tumbled from her mouth. “He wants to fuck me.” Gabriyel stiffened. He would have closed his eyes or looked away, but he didn’t dare. His reaction revealed the truth; Gabriyel had always wanted her; she’d just been too self-absorbed to notice. Now that she considered him with clear vision, she understood that he was not compelled by simple lust. Yes, his cock was hard, throbbing painfully as he was forced to look at her artfully displayed body, but in the fire of his gaze, she recognized a deeper, far more spiritual longing. Gabriyel didn’t want to fuck her. Gabriyel wanted to make love to her. He wanted to cherish her and use his entire being to bring her exquisite pleasure. His gaze told her that he could make her body writhe as it was now, but he wouldn’t need all these accoutrements. With only the tools of his body—his lips, his tongue, his fingers, the massive span of his hands, and that wickedly long and thick cock—he could compel her utter and willing surrender. However, the most erotic tool at his disposal was his mind. Farjika realized Gabriyel had had three long seasons to plan what he would do if he ever got her alone. And if Lorren found out, she had no idea what he would do. Farjika realized she would suffer anything to protect Gabriyel from Lorren’s wrath. All this time Gabriyel had been willing to throw down his life for her. Since this situation was entirely her fault, she vowed to do anything to shield him. “I swear, Lorren, if you let him fuck her while I can’t see, I will never forgive you!” Errion sounded beyond furious. Lorren left her then. Looking up into the mirror, she watched Lorren grab a length of discarded crimson rope. Quickly he knotted it several times in the center. Unlike Errion, Lorren didn’t measure or make any effort to perfect his work. Once he’d fashioned what he wanted, he approached Errion. Forcing the rope around Errion’s head
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effectively gagged him. After everything Errion had done to her, she had no sympathy for him at all. Yet the question remained—what, if anything, would Lorren make Gabriyel do to her? Lorren caught her gaze in the mirror. Deliberately he stepped out of range, forcing her to grasp the ropes and lean up, which inadvertently pressed the knots in the centers of her palms. Fighting against the waves of pleasure, she used her fingertips to hold herself up. Darting her gaze over, she found Lorren standing next to Gabriyel. Cupping his hand around Gabriyel’s cock, Lorren stroked once, twice, and then whispered something into Gabriyel’s ear. Farjika strained to hear, but she couldn’t make out more than the rise and fall of his husky voice. All she could do was speculate as Gabriyel kept his gaze riveted to her, probably at Lorren’s behest. Stroking him slowly, his hand working him from the base to the tip, Lorren’s skilled touch caused tears of moisture to release from the head of Gabriyel’s cock. She wanted to scream at him to stop tormenting Gabriyel when he hadn’t done anything wrong. All he’d ever done was try to protect her. Had she listened to him, she wouldn’t be where she was now. Gabriyel shook his head, refusing whatever Lorren asked of him. Lorren’s fist tightened around his shaft, turning the head dark with blood. Nostrils flared, torment eating up his features, Gabriyel finally relented. Bowing his head as much as he could in the restraint, he agreed to do whatever Lorren demanded. Her heart beat so fast her vision trembled. All along, she thought Errion was the cruel one, the brutal master. Lorren had hidden his monster well. From the far wall, his molten gaze hit her, drilling into her as forcefully as his prick had last night. Somehow, in a short span of time, he’d changed drastically. As afraid as she was, she also hungered for his control. Perplexed by her dual longing and fear, all she could do was hang bound in her restraints, awaiting the revelation of Lorren’s erotic plan. She waited breathlessly, her eyes going wide when Lorren released Gabriyel from the wall restraint but kept his arms bound behind him. When Gabriyel failed to advance, Lorren wrapped his arm around his shoulders, moving him forward. He kept right on whispering persuasions and subtly nudging until Gabriyel stood, right between her now trembling thighs. With him so close, she could smell his sweat. His scent was familiar and reassuring, comforting. She met his tormented gaze with what she hoped was forgiveness if not outright encouragement. She could lie to Errion and Lorren but the fact of the matter was she wanted Gabriyel. Moreover, she believed Gabriyel wanted her too. Perhaps not quite like this, but in truth, Lorren did not make either one of them do anything they didn’t secretly want to do. Softly, in Diolan, she whispered, “I know you have no choice.” “My lady, I—” “Step closer,” Lorren urged. “You know you want to.” Closing his eyes, Gabriyel stepped forward until his cock was a fraction from the knot above her clit. Her gasp of need forced his eyes open, and he panicked, terrified that he’d hurt her.
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Shaking her head, she whispered, “Please.” Leaning near, his eyes on her face, Lorren said, “She wants you to touch her. She needs release.” Farjika glared at Lorren, furious at his blatant lie. Any touch Gabriyel bestowed would only increase her torment, not liberate her from it. Lorren’s smirk revealed he knew exactly what she was thinking, and if she wanted Gabriyel to know that fact, she would be the one to tell him. She couldn’t. She didn’t want Gabriyel to know that his touch would torture her. Even knowing that fact, she still craved contact with him. Perhaps, if she could offer Gabriyel the comfort of a climax, her guilt would lessen. Willingly, she would take more energy into her body to offer him the release she couldn’t have. This time as he moved close, he kept his eyes on her face, his concern so touching she almost cried. Fighting back her tears, afraid of only hurting him more, Farjika looked up into Gabriyel’s eyes, trying to convey her willingness, her eagerness and her true and heartfelt longing. She wanted him. Always she had desired him, but cultural restrictions, caste differences—so much held them apart it was easier not to openly crave what she knew she couldn’t have. To have Lorren compel her to do what she always wanted to do was deliciously erotic. Her only worry was for Gabriyel. As he drew near, she felt the heat of his cock through the rope, making her squirm against her bonds. Her movement shifted her now that she didn’t have the stool to help her keep her position. When her inner thigh brushed against the tense muscles of his hip, pleasure surged along her flesh. Against her will, she uttered a moan of erotic agony. “Why do you keep resisting what you want?” With his hand upon his back, Lorren urged Gabriyel forward, but he didn’t force him. Gabriyel took another half step, sliding his cock against her, pressing the knots firmly against her clit and passage. The upward momentum drew the center rope taut, pressing the lowest knot against her bottom. Her moan of agony rose into a scream of anguish. So much pressure filled her body, she felt at any moment her skin would simply split apart so that the gathering power could finally dissipate. Gabriyel hissed sharply between his gritted teeth. “My lady, never would I wish to harm you.” “I know.” She gasped the words out, trying to reassure him and failing miserably. After digging deep, determined to make this right for him even if it killed her, she whispered, “You’re not hurting me.” “Remember how you said Errion made you? Well, I’m making him, right?” Lorren kept his voice low and even, almost detached. She nodded. “So you’ll forgive him for anything he does?” Again, she nodded, breathing slowly and calmly through her nose as Gabriyel’s cock pressed against the rope, forcing the knots into her skin. With determination, she was able to feel the pleasure building but not as pain. Carefully, slowly, she turned the energy to strength. Rather than fearing the power, she
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welcomed it. Lorren would not triumph over her. She would take all of it, everything, and hold it within her body until the time came to set the energy free. Gods, the sudden expenditure would probably kill her, but she had no other choice. All this was because of her pride. As soon as Errion told her of his plans, she should have laughed and walked away, letting him distribute the images. She could have denied them as fakes or simply kept her mouth shut, nether confirming nor denying that the woman depicted was she. That would have removed all his power over her. But she’d been too afraid of being compared to her mother. But now, Farjika realized Errion had played on that fear. Far too late, she appreciated what her mother had done. She’d made a great sacrifice to return Diola to stability. If Farjika possessed even one-tenth of her mother’s forthright belief in herself, she never would have ended up here. Sensing the change in her attitude, Lorren compelled Gabriyel to rock his hips, sliding his cock against the thoroughly soaked rope. As she hung free, she swayed away from him and side to side, which allowed him to rub against her lips and the crease where her inner thigh joined her hips. Each time he touched her flesh, his eyes clenched closed, and she realized he strove not to climax. Softly in Diolan, she encouraged him to climax. “I won’t be angry. I swear it. I know it’s not your fault.” “I will not shame you or myself.” Gabriyel lowered his head, avoiding her eyes until Lorren made him look at her again. “I am a slave, and you are the future empress. I am not even worthy to look upon you let alone—” He cut himself off with a weary shake of his head. If she were the actual empress, she could claim him, thus ending his torment, but she couldn’t. Her father appointed him, and until Drahka rescinded his orders, Gabriyel was bound as her protector. Having sex with her was not a part of his duties. Even if she herself demanded he enter her bed, he must refuse. She could do nothing to ease his conflict. Turning her weary gaze unto Lorren, she thought of appealing to him. If he understood the nature of their relationship and the restrictions of their culture, perhaps he would relent. One glance in his eyes crushed that notion. Lorren, the sinfully seductive businessman who charmed her with a dance, was long gone. All that remained was a beast who craved perversion and reveled in compulsion. What had she inadvertently unleashed by giving him control over her? How was she to know that he would go too far? Blaming him came easily, almost naturally, when the truth was, how was she to know that she too had her own depraved monster within? Even as she sought to ease Gabriyel’s torment, she longed to feel him thrust between her legs. His cock would fill up the emptiness inside as he dissipated the gathering energy in a storm of passion. Despite knowing it was wrong, or perhaps because she knew her longings were wrong, she hungered for him. Having Lorren in charge, him making her and Gabriyel do what he said, removed her responsibility for her own twisted cravings.
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For what seemed forever, Farjika hung in the balance, feeling the power build with every brush of Gabriyel’s cock against the knots. Lorren stood behind and to the side of Gabriyel, his hand on his bottom, setting the pace for his hips. Molten eyes watched her with relentless fascination, each sigh or jolt causing him vicarious pleasure. Just as the tension built in her, it grew in Lorren and Gabriyel. In the background, she could hear Errion struggling against the chair and screaming into his makeshift gag. All this had been his idea. Lorren punished him by letting him hear everything but see nothing. Since Errion was a visual man, the discipline was incredibly harsh. Farjika had a feeling his comeuppance for defying Lorren was far from finished. Lorren seemed frightfully calm in spite of his obvious arousal. His cock pressed hard against his trousers, sweat beaded along his forehead, but his breathing remained steady, much like the way his gaze held hers. “Do you want him to fuck you?” Gabriyel’s eyes closed, and he shook his head subtly back and forth, as if begging her to say no. She wanted to oblige, but Lorren would sense the lie. He would only find a way to punish them in a more wicked form. “Answer me, Farjika.” She nodded while Gabriyel had his eyes closed, hoping that he wouldn’t know the permission had come from her. “I can’t hear you.” Lorren’s voice was husky but smooth, like the brandy he’d served earlier. “Yes.” She barely managed a whisper as Gabriyel continued to rock his hips. “Yes, what?” Lorren stopped his press against Gabriyel’s bottom as he pushed her away from him with a hand to her foot. The loss of contact was somehow worse than the gathering pressure. “Yes I want him to fuck me!” Her cry was loud, and she swore she heard it echo throughout the entire manor if not the entire world. She wanted Gabriyel so badly she would do anything to feel the hardness of his body against hers. If she had to get down on her knees and grovel, she would. Casting her a victorious smile, Lorren released her foot, which swung her into Gabriyel. Both of them winced at the contact. Wrapping his arm around Gabriyel’s massive shoulders, hugging him from the side as if they were the best of friends, Lorren asked, “And you, do you want to fuck the woman you’re sworn to protect?” “No.” Gabriyel’s answer was barely audible. “Liar.” Lorren laughed as he stepped between her parted legs, pressing himself against Gabriyel’s rock hard body. “Look at that sweet, wet and painfully empty cunny.” Teasing his fingers along the edges of the rope, up and down her neither lips, sent tingles racing across her body. “How could any man not want to slip his cock into her?”
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Errion screamed into his gag and struggled so violently in his chair he managed to scrape it across the wooden floor. Lorren grimaced but ignored him. Bringing his mouth conspiratorially close to Gabriyel’s ear, Lorren loudly whispered, “You could be her hero.” Gabriyel’s eyes met hers. “You could be the one who releases her.” Confusion lowered his brows as he stood there so hard his cock shook. “You see these knots?” Lorren pressed the one above her clit, and she stifled a moan. “They have been building up sexual energy in her. All night power has built and built without an outlet. Each time you rubbed your cock to her, you only made it worse.” Guilt filled Gabriyel’s already troubled gaze. “She could have told you, she should have told you, but she didn’t want you to worry.” Farjika wanted to punish Lorren for what he was doing. Why couldn’t he just get this over with? All he had to do was order Gabriyel to fuck her. Waiting and wondering when it would happen was excruciating. Stepping back, letting her body sway gently back and forth until she came to rest with her leg against Gabriyel’s tight hip, Lorren turned to the table of knives. He selected one and swiftly cut the center line, just below the knot at her belly button. She felt the sopping rope fall away from her front but hang down from the anchoring point along her back. Convinced that her climax would burst forth once the main line was free, she was horrified to feel all the power surging within, waiting for an outlet. The knots had built it and held it in, but removing them would not offer her release. “That’s right, Farjika. The only way you will be free of all that power within you is if Gabriyel here is man enough to fuck it out of you.” Lorren clapped him on the back. “You can be her hero or you can leave her hanging. Either way, her salvation is entirely up to you.”
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Chapter Eighteen
Gabriyel closed his eyes, unable to bear the yearning in her gaze. In his dreams and during tribute, he’d thought of how he would make love to Farjika. Always, there was a gentle seduction with food, wine, astle bedding, and whispered words of praise for her beauty. Never, not even in the darkest of his dreams, had he envisioned her bound in decorative crimson ropes, dangling from a ceiling, her body in sexual torment with he her only savior. Worse, he wanted to do exactly what Lorren suggested. He wanted to slip his cock within her so badly he trembled from holding himself back. The most animal part of him pushed him to do what he wanted, what she needed, what she’d asked him to do, but his higher brain refused. He couldn’t break his oath to her father. Drahka had entrusted her safety to him. To violate her would be like violating himself. Breaching the sanctity of her body went against everything in his code, everything he believed in as an honorable man. “Please.” Farjika’s whispered supplication was seductive and compelling, speaking directly to what Errion had called the beast that lived within every man. The beast inside wanted to ram his cock into her so hard and fast she’d gasp and swing in the restraints. With his hands bound behind his back, he’d have to lean forward and bite the rope around her neck to hold her steady for his pounding. The vision of him as a hungry animal, looming over her supine body, taking his satisfaction without a thought to hers, both aroused and terrified him. Gabriyel half expected Lorren to say something, to taunt him anew, but he had moved over to the chair where he’d bound Errion. Looking back over his shoulder, Gabriyel discovered Lorren had removed his trousers and now fed Errion his cock. He couldn’t see his face, but he could hear him struggling to take the length within. That’s exactly where Gabriyel thought the two of them belonged, with each other and far away from his beautiful lady. Lorren was splitting his attention between the tableau he’d left him and Farjika in, and the punishment he gave to Errion. Not only was he making him suck him, but also he was describing, in detail, how Gabriyel looked standing between Farjika’s thighs. “He hasn’t decided yet, Errion. He still wants to hang on to his dignity and his honor. Yet every moment he waits, she suffers more.”
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Gabriyel cast his attention on her face and realized what Lorren said was entirely true. The longer he delayed, the greater her pain. She struggled against the straps, her eyes pleading with him as she tried desperately to calm herself with deep breaths. Each time her chest rose, the ropes that ran along either side of her breasts tightened, rubbing hard against her nipples, making them strain. He couldn’t just stand here and watch her suffer. “My lady, I cannot do this.” A whimper escaped her trembling lips. “I beg you, Gabriyel, please.” Her beautiful cunt was so wet that he could smell her pungent musk, which only exacerbated the beast trying to push him forward. Desperate for a solution, he thought perhaps he could ease her pain without penetration. Leaning forward, he kissed her clit softly, reverently, and sighed with relief as she encouraged him. “Ah, he finally gave in,” Lorren told Errion. “He’s licking her sweet little cunny.” Doing his best to ignore Lorren, Gabriyel swirled his tongue round and round her clit, making it stand at full attention before he sucked the fragile bit of flesh into his mouth. Her taste was utterly sublime. The delicate sighs of pleasure and contentment that slipped from her parted lips were the most wonderful praise he’d ever heard. To hear her cry out in climax would be the most blessed sound he would likely ever hear. “My lady, my beautiful lady.” He couldn’t stop himself from murmuring the endearment over and over as he teased his tongue against her clit. Her moans of pleasure grew in volume as his flicking tongue moved faster, pressed harder. Annoyed that he could only press so firmly with her swinging free, he struggled to find the balance to give her the greatest pleasure. After fumbling a bit, he discovered that if he stepped forward and balanced her on his chin, he could ravish her clit without moving her away. Everything he did Lorren relayed to Errion using the most vulgar of terms. Gabriyel ignored him and focused only on releasing Farjika from torment. However, all his efforts only caused her to struggle more. Gabriyel redoubled his efforts, licking her as hard and fast as he could, but still, she sobbed in frantic gasps that broke his heart. No matter what he did, he was unable to push her over that edge that would tumble her into oblivion. Behind him Lorren laughed. “I should let this continue, but her cries are starting to become almost guttural. It hardly seems fair that after all she’s suffered this night, you are only tormenting her more.” Withdrawing, Gabriyel looked up and realized that was precisely what he was doing. Damn him to the nothingness, but how could he release his lady? This wasn’t the first time he’d pleasured a woman with his tongue; what was he doing wrong? “Don’t blame yourself, Gabriyel, it’s the nature of Fentaru.” Gabriyel knew that was rope binding, as Errion had babbled about it when he’d removed him from the prison and brought him up here. Still, he didn’t see what her bonds had to do with giving her an orgasm. He
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was so painfully aroused he was certain that if he heard her cry out in bliss, he would climax without a single touch to his cock. “The only way to release her is to do exactly what I said. You can lick her all night, and you’ll only make it worse.” Gabriyel straightened and glared at Lorren. “Glower all you’d like, but you still have to fuck her. There is no other way.” Lorren’s smile changed into a snarl as he thrust forward. Gabriyel couldn’t see, but he heard Errion gag as he took him deep, not that he cared. He thought that perverted cratifan was getting precisely what he deserved. If only he would bite Lorren’s cock off, then Lorren would get what he so richly deserved as well. “Fentaru is decorative, as Errion told her, and it also builds energy, as Errion told her, but the only way to release all that power is by balancing the energy.” Lorren pulled back and turned the chair just enough so that Gabriyel could now see exactly what he was doing to Errion, but Errion could not see what Gabriyel did to Farjika. “Everything in this life strives for balance.” Lorren teased his cock around Errion’s lips as Errion struggled to turn his head. “Male and female. Light and dark. Good and bad.” With one hand on the top of Errion’s head, Lorren rocked his hips slowly, almost leisurely, as if he could go all night. “You cannot have one without the other, and you cannot free her with anything other than your cock. As a master of Fentaru, Errion deliberately centered the critical knot against her cunt.” Golden eyes met his. “The opposite of that happens to be right between your legs.” Gabriyel’s body and mind rebelled at the thought of penetrating her. Crushing guilt at having made her terrible situation worse threatened to drop him to his knees, but he would not show weakness before these barsitas. He would not let them see how deeply hurting her had damaged him. After this day, he would resign from her service. He would appoint one of his men to take his place and then run to the ends of the universe to hide his shame. Even as he thought it, he already knew he couldn’t live with himself until he returned her safely back to Diola. Once there, he would surrender his will to his mistress and master. If her mother and father demanded his life in exchange for his failure, he would go to the stone without a fight. But first, he would get Farjika home. “So, again I ask, will you be her hero, or will you leave her hanging?” Gabriyel considered his options. Perhaps if he refused, Lorren would fill her. The thought of watching Lorren mount Farjika was appalling, but it was better than Gabriyel violating her. Lorren was a brutal monster, but he was not under orders to protect her. His cock could give her the relief she needed without repercussion. Besides, Gabriyel knew they’d been together at least once before. “No, my friend, I will not save her, nor will I let Errion do so, even though from the massive bulge in his trousers he would very much like to.” Lorren yanked his cock out of Errion’s mouth.
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Before Errion could berate him for long, Lorren stuffed the gag back in then proceeded to remove Errion’s pants. The slippery fabric slid effortlessly down the smooth texture of the oddly designed chair. “You see, I’m going to be far too busy doing to Errion what he tried to do to her today.” As Lorren pushed Errion’s legs up, the design of the chair became clear. The wide top and elongated arms were actually cups to hold someone’s legs while making room for a second person at the base. Once Lorren had him secure, he had unfettered access to Errion’s cock and bottom. Lorren could even adjust the height of the chair for his comfort, which he did while teasing his fingers along Errion’s straining cock. In a blinding flash, Gabriyel realized Lorren had concocted all of this to reprimand Farjika and Errion for betraying him. They had violated his trust, so he designed the most cunning of punishments. As Gabriyel stood there, absorbing this knowledge, he glanced at Farjika. She was so lost in her agony she mumbled incoherently. Her head had rolled back as she clung weakly to the straps supporting her back. If something didn’t happen soon, he feared for her sanity. “Why am I being punished?” As far as Gabriyel knew, he’d done nothing to Lorren at all. Lorren measured him for a very long time, his golden gaze entirely unreadable. Gabriyel considered himself an expert at reading people, especially their intentions and motives, but Lorren was impossible to interpret. Stone cold and utterly indifferent, Lorren offered no twitch, no flutter, not even a telltale sign of anything other than what he wished Gabriyel to see. “Because you lied to me.” Before Gabriyel could deny the accusation, Lorren continued. “I asked if you wanted to fuck her, and you said no, when the fact is you do want to. And very, very badly, I might add.” He smiled. “So I’m going to make you.” Trapped, Gabriyel stood undecided between Farjika’s beautiful legs, with the scent of her musk pervading his senses and her guttural moans tearing him apart. “Fuck her or not, I no longer care.” Lorren turned his full attention onto Errion. “And you, you wanted me to release the beast I’d finally banished.” Softly, so softly Gabriyel almost couldn’t hear him, Lorren said, “Be careful what you wish for, because you just might get it.” With those words, Gabriyel realized he had only himself to blame. All his thoughts of Farjika during tribute had manifested his dream in this cruel way. He’d longed to be with her, but sweetly, lovingly, and the gods had heard his prayers. But for perverting the ritual of tribute, they’d chosen to punish him by giving him exactly what he’d always wanted, but in the opposite way of what he craved. Rather than a romantic interlude of tender seduction, he was compelled to fuck her in an open room within the attention of two other men. Farjika lifted her head. Her eyes were glazed, her features beset with misery. “Please, Gabriyel. I cannot bear this any longer. My body feels on fire. My mind spins with a thousand lustful scenarios that only make my cravings worse.” Tears trembled against her lids then fell down her cheeks. “If you abandon me, I think I will die.”
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“Be strong my lady.” Gabriyel took a deep breath. “It will pass.” “No, it won’t,” Lorren called. “She hangs there in torment until you free her. Again, my friend, everything seeks a balance.” Head hung in shame, Gabriyel stepped forward. “Please do not look at me, my lady. I could not bear it.” He didn’t know if she closed her eyes or not because he was too troubled to look up. Gingerly, he pressed his cock against her. Her moan compelled his. She was silken astle, so slick and perfect he thought he had died and gone to Jarasine. But no, the gods would not let him into their home. They would cast him to the nothingness where he would drift forever seeking a mortal body for his worthless soul. Rubbing his cock along the slick lips of her sex tormented her, but he couldn’t plunge in without readying himself for her. Even experienced yondies had a difficult time with his girth. He tried to coat his shaft with her slick juice, but each slide only caused her to thrash as she begged him to fill her. “Please, Gabriyel, please.” Her voice was weak now, almost a breathy whisper, as if all her strength had drained away. “I’ll do anything.” Unable to bear her distress another moment, he rolled his hips, centered his cock to her core and pressed forward. Her lips parted around his head, snug and slick, welcoming him onward. Each bit he went deeper tightened her around him, causing him simultaneous pleasure and sorrow. “Thank you,” she whispered between gasps. “Thank you.” He tried to close his ears to her thanking him for debauching her, but her relief was so great she couldn’t seem to stop. He thoroughly understood why when he felt the energy that Lorren had spoken of. The deeper he went, the more the power flowed into him. Each jolt went directly to that beast within, urging him to come forth, to be what he was, to embrace what he was. Clinging to the last bit of his honor, Gabriyel refused. He would do as he said; he would claim her gently. Unlike the two perverted boys, he was a man, and if he had to do this, he would claim her at his own pace and in his own way. Because he knew, deep down, after this, their relationship was ruined. The dreams he’d had of spending a lifetime with her were silly, but they were his, and there was always a possibility that they could come true. Faint, but possible. Now, he wouldn’t even have a sliver of hope. This reality destroyed his fleeting dream. Looking up, he caught her gaze; her lovely eyes were open to him, wide with gratitude but deep with further yearning. Her lips parted on a sigh as he moved farther within. Her hands no longer gripped the ropes with such force her fingertips went pale. Against his will, his gaze roamed over her body, admiring the way her neck looked so long and delicate within the crimson collar; the way her nipples stood firm trapped between twin lengths of rope; the way the muscles in her torso flexed as she let him slide inside her magnificent form. His gradual descent into her depths suddenly halted. So wrapped up in trying to avoid feeling how wickedly good she felt around his shaft, it took him a long time to realize he was wedged into her. With her hanging free, there was no leverage. With his arms tied behind his back, he could not hold her.
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Behind him, he heard Lorren tormenting Errion, their grunts and groans exacerbating his problem. With every bit of strength he possessed, he tried to hold back his lust. Gabriyel would do what she needed, he would balance the energy they had built in her, but he wouldn’t climax. No matter what, he would not defile her in such a way. Still, he knew, to finish what he’d started he had to get deeper. He had to bury his shaft within her to equalize the energy. Carefully, he flicked his hips, hoping to bounce her down his length. She rolled her hips in an effort to help, and even tried to wrap her calves around his body to pull him deeper, but everything they tried failed. “He’s too damn big to fit inside her.” Lorren was still giving Errion information, but Gabriyel didn’t turn to look. From the sounds of slapping flesh, he knew what Lorren was doing to him, and from the rhythm, he was doing it none too gently. Gabriyel considered their dilemma and then realized he’d already figured out the solution. “Forgive me, my lady, there is no other way.” Leaning forward, he bit down on the collar around her neck as he thrust. Every muscle in his body strained to hold her still while he rocked his hips. This close, he smelled her perfume and the delicate shampoo she used on her hair. The skin of her neck felt soft against his nose as he pressed his head down, desperate to finish before he lost control. Carefully curving his body over hers, he managed to hold her as he worked his cock deeper. Each minute bit of her enfolding flesh pushed him closer to madness. His breath emerged from between his gritted teeth with the sound of a snarling animal. Farjika encouraged him with soft words and the circling of her hips, but her helpfulness just made keeping control that much more difficult. As he took the energy from her, it filled his beast, and in turn, the beast grew stronger, and his demands became more aggressive. The needs of the beast tried to override Gabriyel’s sense of self, his sense of honor, and his determination to protect the woman below him. With one mighty contraction of his muscles, he managed to bury his cock to the hilt. His balls slapped against her bottom as she arched up into him with a scream of satisfaction. That was almost his undoing. Her cry of relief, her bellow of deliverance, the clear lessening of her torment was so enthralling he felt the bare grip he had on his control slip further from his grasp. Oh, gods, he’d never known anything so intense as the feel of her. His balls felt huge as they swung, tapping her bottom, her tight walls clamped so hard around his shaft he was certain he would never be able to remove himself from her depths. There was only one word to describe what she felt like around him and below him, and that word was perfection. Letting go of the collar, he met her eyes. Power flowed between them, equalizing, balancing, and then he recognized the last trap Lorren had waiting for him. Neither one of them would be free until they both climaxed.
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Farjika seemed to realize this as well. “Gabriyel, I’m so sorry. I honestly didn’t know this would happen.” “My lady.” He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against hers. Quietly, he asked, “Are you safe?” He felt her head shake very softly in a negative manner. His heart sank but then fury flared. “You’ve been fooling around with barsitas without taking precautions?” Glaring up at him, she sniped, “It was the last thing on my mind.” “Do you realize what—” He cut himself off. Of course, she realized now what her foolishness could mean. If she weren’t so young and inexperienced, she would have taken precautions. His heart stopped, then pounded. If he impregnated her, then being put to the stone would be the least of his worries. Gabriyel couldn’t imagine what her father would do to him, but a relatively quick death wouldn’t be it. “Please don’t be angry with me.” Her weary eyes met his. “I know this is all my fault. I don’t even know how everything got so far out of control.” Fresh tears tracked down her cheeks. “I just wanted to have fun.” “You just wanted to have fun?” For half the night, an insurmountable conflict had consumed him, racking him with guilt all because she just wanted to have a little entertainment on a faraway world. She’d ruined his life for the purposes of amusing herself. He’d always thought her an intelligent and thoughtful young woman, but her selfishness infuriated him so strongly he shook. Anger added to the energy that filled the beast, tipping the scales, changing the balance within. Giving her one good thrust that wiped the tears from her eyes, Gabriyel asked, “Are you having fun, Farjika?” Rocking his hips in a series of jerks that slammed the tip of his cock against her cervix, he asked her again, and again, until she cried out. Relenting, he buried his face against her neck. He wanted to laugh, to cry, to scream and rail at the sky, but he did none of those things. Gabriyel took a moment to compose himself and then he did what he had to do. Lifting up, peering into her eyes, he swore, “I’m going to do exactly what Lorren told me to do. I’m going to fuck you. I’m going to pound my prick into you so hard you will never, ever forget this moment.” Farjika caught her breath as her eyes went wide, both actions that pleased him greatly. He was finished protecting her. He wanted her to suffer the consequences of her imprudence because but for her stupidity, he would not be here now. “I will have my pleasure because whether or not I fill your belly with my child, I will die for what I am about to do.” Lowering his mouth to her collar, he finished, “So I might as well enjoy myself.” Pushing the collar aside with his chin, he exposed her neck and bit her. Startled, she inadvertently clamped around his cock like a fist. “Gabriyel, please, I’m sorry.”
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Taking a cue from Lorren, Gabriyel asked, “Do you want me to stop?” “No.” She didn’t hesitate. Rising above her, peering down into her face, he asked what he knew he shouldn’t. Asking her was only asking for trouble. He couldn’t help himself. He had to know. “Do you want me to fuck you?” “Yes.” Her gaze hit him with almost physical intensity. Her surrender mollified the beast, allowing part of him, the man who cared so deeply about her, to reemerge. Rubbing his nose against hers, he whispered, “I’ve heard you at night, crying in your sleep, moaning out with need.” A delicate flush washed her cheeks. “To hear me, you would have had to be right next to my door. My closed door,” she finished pointedly. “It’s my job to protect you,” he defended, but the truth was, he often couldn’t sleep because of his sensual dreams about her. Rather than chronically masturbate, he prowled the hallways of the ship until his erection abated. “I patrolled the ship to ensure your safety.” “Of course. I am likely to be attacked in my barred bedroom while my ship is in deep space.” He met her gaze with a lifted brow. “I’m dedicated.” Carefully, she lowered one arm from the sling that pressed against her back. She cupped his face, drawing him near. “I know.” She kissed him. Her lips were soft, sweet, echoing the same longing he felt. “My lady, I—” She cut him off with another kiss. “Like you said, there is nothing we can do, so we might as well enjoy ourselves.” When she wrapped her arm around his shoulder, she gave him enough leverage to thrust against her, not that he needed much movement to increase his passion. Swirling energy passed between them, driven by currents beyond the physical manifestations of their bodies. Rocking, learning now how to use the ropes that held her to his advantage, Gabriyel watched her face as they neared the crest together. “I’m so close.” Her breath caught as she clung to him, rocking against him, using his pubic bone and the rough of his hair to stimulate her clit. “Don’t look away.” At first, he hadn’t wanted her to look at him, but now he did. He wanted to feel, for at least once in his life, a passionate connection to her. He had to take this now, because he didn’t think there would be a second time. “Never, my—Gabriyel.” “What were you about to call me?” “My hero.” She darted her gaze away as if ashamed of the silly romantic notion. “Look at me.” When she did, he smiled. “I’m honored to be your hero as you are my lady.” He put a full possessive spin on claiming her as his. She was his lady. After this, he knew he would never be satisfied with another woman. “You are my lady.”
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“And you are my hero.” He might only have her for now, but he was willing to take it. Consumed by her, feeling the power surge through his body as it tensed every muscle he possessed, Gabriyel kept his gaze locked with hers. Lightly biting her lower lip, she met his intensity with her own. Her pupils expanded, almost covering her irises. Each time she breathed out, he breathed in, taking her breath then feeding it back to her. Higher he went until he was so far above the mundane world he left not only humanity behind, but also the very gods themselves. From the tips of his toes, he felt the energy reach critical mass. Collecting as the force traveled along the top of his skin, the flow gathered, growing in strength until everything rushed out of his body and into hers. Violently he thrust forward, coming in such a vicious surge, he screamed. Over and again his body trembled, trying to get deeper into her, to plant his seed as firmly within her grasping heat as he possibly could. At the same time she clamped around him, her energy spiraling around her body, into his, back again. Never had he felt an orgasm so intense. Tears flowed as he continued to pump and pump until his body could move no more. Below him, Farjika went limp. Blinking, he focused his gaze to her then whispered, “I love you, my lady.”
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Chapter Nineteen
Gabriyel’s heartfelt confession wrenched Lorren out of his fugue. The evening had started as a casual indulgence in Fentaru, something he and Errion hardly practiced together anymore, and then suddenly everything went horribly wrong. His fury over Errion’s betrayal had catapulted him into the dark place. Finally snapping the chain, his beast had emerged from isolation ready to punish the world. Discovering that Errion had imprisoned the captain of her guard should have helped him stop what was rapidly spiraling out of control, but instead, he’d listened to what Errion wanted to do, then claimed the encounter as his own. Such a rush of lust had possessed him at the thought of forcing Gabriyel to mount the woman he was sworn to protect, Lorren had almost climaxed on the spot. Compelling Errion to hear the encounter but not witness it had been a perfect punishment for his disloyalty. Everything had been stunningly faultless. Everyone had gotten exactly what he or she needed, even if it would take awhile for each of them to see that. Lorren was immensely satisfied with himself for what he’d accomplished. Except now for Gabriyel’s admission of love: that was one element Lorren hadn’t expected. By the way he’d been so tormented over penetrating Farjika, Lorren was certain Gabriyel was confessing nothing but the truth. “My lady?” The frantic note of worry in Gabriyel’s voice pulled Lorren’s attention. Even Errion, slumped against the chair, fully satisfied after some of the roughest sex they’d ever had, lifted up, worry lowering his brow. Releasing Errion from his restraints, Lorren fastened his trousers as he strode over to where Farjika dangled limply from the ceiling. “What’s wrong with her?” Gabriyel asked right before he slumped to his knees. With the last bit of his strength, he peered up and demanded, “What did you do to us?” Arms bound behind his back, Gabriyel crumpled to the floor. He was as unresponsive as Farjika. Between him and Errion, they got her down and settled her on the floor next to Gabriyel. “I’ve never seen this happen.” Errion shrugged, but his casual gesture belied the anxiety in his eyes. Lorren had never seen reactions like this either. Usually, after being bound for so long, the subject was a bit numb, but always coherent, sometime even remarkably so. Those who were bound had told him that once they were freed, it was a curious kind of rebirth, as if everything that weighed them down was cut away with the fens. Lorren moved to unbind Farjika, but Errion stopped him.
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“I’ve got to show the knots to another master to make sure I didn’t inadvertently cause this.” Swiftly he called forth the commbot, contacted his Fentaru master, and relayed the evening’s events. He spoke rapidly and turned away as if he didn’t want Lorren listening in, not that it would matter. Lorren only knew he liked to watch the art of Fentaru; he knew nothing about it other than it was visually arousing. As Errion spoke with the woman who had trained him, and angled the commbot over the sleeping pair to show her the knots, Lorren examined Gabriyel and Farjika. They were flushed and sweaty, breathing rapidly, almost as if they continued to feel sexual torment. Gabriyel was still rock hard, and Farjika’s sex was wet with need. Confused, Lorren shook his head. He’d seen and heard both of them find release. Of that, he had no doubt, because when they’d climaxed, he’d reached his own long-awaited orgasm. Errion finished his conversation and dismissed the commbot. When he knelt to cut Farjika free, he didn’t meet Lorren’s gaze. “What happened?” Lorren grabbed another knife and worked on freeing Gabriyel. Inadvertently he jiggled his cock, which set the poor man moaning in agony. Blinking and confused, Gabriyel rolled toward Farjika, his hands seeking out her body with a desperation that bordered on the pathetic. “Hold him back,” Errion admonished as he forcefully dragged Farjika away. “They can’t touch each other until we’ve completed the tentulo.” Gabriyel was weak and easily restrained. However, he continued to try to reach for Farjika as he babbled in his native tongue. “What’s wrong with them?” Lorren knelt by Gabriyel’s side, cradling him into his lap. He did his best to comfort him, but all the man wanted was more of Farjika. “I made a mistake.” Errion looked into his eyes, then away very fast. “A very big mistake, and I’m going to need your help.” “We can fix this?” Lorren asked hopefully, but the way Errion avoided his gaze wasn’t the answer he needed. With the help of a robot, they carried Gabriyel down to the prison. After carefully washing Farjika, he and Errion placed her in Lorren’s bed. The maid rapidly returned the parlor to rights, and the butler gave him a fortifying drink with his usual blank face. As Lorren gulped the brandy down, he envied his robots. They did whatever he said without shame or repercussions. He could have a hundred men bang the butler’s butt, and he’d just kneel there and take it. The maid would do nothing in the same situation. Only humans felt shame for the lusts they expressed. Only humans could have regrets. In that moment, standing there as he polished off his drink, Lorren despaired that he was human. If he were a true beast, a true master of his own art, he would feel nothing for what he’d done. He realized he was not a master when the weight of responsibility crushed down on his shoulders.
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According to Errion’s Fentaru master, the next spin was a critical time for Gabriyel and Farjika. They couldn’t be allowed near each other until they’d undergone tentulo, or energy milking. Unfamiliar with the term, Errion had filled him in as they rapidly washed their bodies and changed their clothes. At first blush, tentulo sounded like erotic fun; once Errion described the exacting nature of what they would do, Lorren realized performing tentulo on Farjika would cost him dearly. However, he was determined to follow through. He owed her this along with a huge apology, which, judging by the repercussions, she wouldn’t likely grant. Farjika was never, ever going to forgive him for what he’d done to her. Saying that he’d ruined her life wasn’t an exaggeration. Lorren had singlehandedly altered the very course of her existence. Feverish, Farjika shivered as she rolled in the sheets, the needs of her body pulling her back to awareness. Searing pain in her gaze hit him like an accusation. She spoke in her native tongue. He didn’t know what she said, but judging by the tone, she was issuing orders, or perhaps berating him for his foolishness. Either way, she wasn’t happy with him. He didn’t blame her. What he had done was unforgivable. Her pain destroyed his longings. Almost as if he knew, the beast willingly retreated to the corner and hung his head in shame. For a moment of bliss, Lorren had ruined two lives and permanently put Farjika out of his reach. He had no one to blame but himself. Cupping her body close, he murmured soothing words as he carefully parted her legs. Her scent galvanized him. He wanted to bury his cock in her and replace Gabriyel’s lingering essence with his own. If he did that, he would only make an impossible situation worse. Spreading his fingers across her mound, he opened her lips, exposing her clit. As he brushed his thumb across it, she moaned and arched her back, spreading her legs wider. Within a few strokes she came hard, clamping her legs together, trapping his hand as she rocked violently against his cupped fingers. Eventually she relaxed her hold on him. He withdrew his hand but didn’t leave her side. Here he would stay until he’d released the remaining energy. Below, Errion performed the same services for Gabriyel. Errion wanted to stay with Farjika, as he didn’t trust Lorren, but there was no way Lorren could soothe Gabriyel, not when they each wanted the same thing: Farjika. Besides, Lorren didn’t trust Errion with Farjika, not after what they’d done while shopping. As Lorren waited for the next wave to hit Farjika, he berated himself for what he’d let happen tonight. All of this was his fault. Errion had made a mistake with one of the forms, but Lorren was the one who pushed Farjika far beyond what even a dedicated Fentaru practitioner could endure. He was the one who cut only the center line. So much energy had built up that Gabriyel couldn’t equalize the power that surged within her body. He’d taken as much as he could, but by keeping the remaining forms on her body as they mated, more energy gathered, energy that wasn’t simply sexual. The more Gabriyel slaved to release her, the more he left an indelible mark upon her soul.
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Tonight should have been erotic fun and games, but now everything was serious and deadly dangerous. Through his ignorance, Lorren had inadvertently enslaved Gabriyel to Farjika for the rest of their lives. Gabriyel would kill any man who tried to take her from him. Instinctively, Gabriyel had planted his seed deep, and he would die to protect her and the life she carried. Errion’s mistake had been with the knot above her belly button. It could stimulate a need to mate, which was perfect for building energy, but by tormenting her for so long, Lorren had turned her need to mate into a need to procreate. According to the other Fentaru master, Farjika was undoubtedly pregnant. Even if she used protection, the powerful forces that built up in her body would have obliterated any and every obstacle. The only thing Lorren could do for her now was help her release the remaining sexual energy as Errion did the same for Gabriyel. If the two of them came together again, they would only exacerbate matters, as Gabriyel couldn’t siphon off any more energy. Errion explained the power would come to the surface in bursts over the next spin. Each time she awoke, Lorren pleasured her, releasing another portion of the energy. There was no way of telling how long the tentulo would take. Lorren’s job was to masturbate her every time she stirred. Errion had been adamant that he not tease her in any way, and that he use only his hands to bring her to climax. “No matter what she says or does, don’t use your lips. The taste of her will compel you to mate with her.” “And what if I did?” Lorren meticulously washed his cock, thinking that he certainly could manage at least one more rousing climax tonight. Errion slammed him into the shower wall, shocking him silent as he commanded his full attention. “If you do, you are going to make a gigantic mess even bigger.” While shaking the shit out of him, Errion had admonished him to stay precisely within the confines of their duty. Breaking with the exacting nature of tentulo would have terrible repercussions. “It’s not a joke, Lorren. If we don’t do this right, we could seriously injure both of these people.” His eyes had darkened considerably. “Look at what we’ve done to two innocent people for no reason other than our pathetic desire to get off.” Errion had let him go at that point, apologizing as he confessed what he’d done to get Farjika to agree to let him bind her. “I held those images over her head because I wanted to bring her down in your estimation and make her grovel before I sent her away from you, but then”—he sighed as if internally berating himself—“I ended up wanting her for myself.” Errion shook his head, flinging suds as he did so. “I’m going to fix this mess, and then we are going to let them go.” Lorren had nodded his agreement, but in the back of his mind, he rebelled. He did not want to let Farjika go. Even now, with the scent of another man infusing her skin, he wanted her. He wanted to push her back on the bed, part her legs and eradicate Gabriyel from her mind and body. Errion’s warnings filled his head, and he’d taken heed. He’d even gone so far as to dress himself from head to toe in the thickest fabrics he could.
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Farjika stirred. “Lorren?” “I’m here.” Moaning, she undulated her body along his, rubbing his straining cock against her belly. Despite the armor of his clothing, he felt the plush, welcoming softness of her flesh. “What’s wrong with me? I’m burning inside.” Plaintively she tilted her head up, capturing his gaze with the power of hers. “I thought you said Gabriyel would release the energy.” Frowning delicately, she grasped his shoulders. “I can feel so much power swirling in me, seeking an outlet.” Confession hung on his lips. If he explained, he could soothe her and clarify what they must do to rectify her situation. The words stuck in his throat. Selfishly, he didn’t want to let her go. If there was a way to entangle her with Gabriyel, there had to be a way to untangle them as well. Lorren cupped her chin, lifted her face and kissed her softly. Her lips parted automatically, welcoming him within. She tasted of ambrosia, sweet and compelling. Her whimpering little groans only hardened him more. When he took a deep breath to steady himself, all he did was draw her scent fully into his lungs. When she lifted her leg, wrapping her calf around his thighs to pull him closer, her wicked musk filled his nose and mouth. Literally, he drooled. Licking his lips, he pushed her back, ready to bury his head between her legs. Welcoming his aggression, she submitted to him. Fastening her dreamy eyes on him, she parted her legs. “Please, Lorren. I need you.” Errion’s cautions were still foremost in his mind, but he pushed them away. He wasn’t going to do anything foolish. A little taste of her lips hadn’t hurt him. Lowering his head to her breast, he captured her nipple between his teeth. Instantly hard, her sweet bud grew firmer as he laved her flesh, taking her luscious scent and taste fully into his mouth. A bitter note pushed at his soul, needling him, and he realized it was Gabriyel’s flavor. Lorren’s beast may have retreated, but the dominant part of his manhood hadn’t. He wanted to eradicate Gabriyel’s essence and place his own mark upon her. Lorren felt her squirm below him, her moans seductive and needy. He wanted to ease her pain and lowered his hand to the dripping need of her sex. Without thought he moved his lips to her other nipple, and the explosion of flavor rocked him back. Smiling smartly, Farjika lifted her brows as she cooed, “What’s wrong, Lorren? Don’t you like the taste of my sweet little cunny?” Deliberately she swirled her fingers against her sex, then smeared the glistening liquid over her nipple. “Gabriyel seemed to revel in the taste.” Throwing his name up in Lorren’s face had the desired effect; jealousy consumed him. He tried to reason with himself, as he was a thinking man, but his intelligence evaporated until all that was left was the basest part of himself. The animal that made him do things he later regretted. “Who?” he asked. Climbing between her legs, he rose up over her supine form. With her nude, her caramel skin blended into the rich brown of the glittering sheets. He felt enormous above her.
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“Gabriyel.” She said his name slowly, clearly, deliberately trying to provoke him. “I’ll make you forget him.” Blinking slowly, she shook her head slowly side to side. “What can you do with all those clothes on?” Button by button, he opened his shirt, watching her writhe below him as she hungered to feel him pressed against her. Unable to wait, she yanked at his trousers, wrenched them open, exposing his cock. Her hands were hot as she gripped him, forcing him down, making him kneel between her legs. Lorren didn’t hesitate. As soon as he was down with her legs around his hips, he rammed his cock into her slick sex. Blissfully tight, she enfolded him, nestling him, her hot little cunny feeling beyond perfect. This was not slow and sweet and seductive. What he did to her was hot and dirty and nasty. He didn’t even bother to take off the rest of his clothing. Below him Farjika rocked, the strength in her body amazing him as she not only kept his pace but also increased the rhythm until they were howling and gripping each other in carnal abandon. Errion’s warnings thundered in his mind. Lorren valiantly tried to extricate himself from her, but when he lifted up, she chuckled. “What’s wrong, Lorren? You can’t perform if Errion isn’t watching?” As if she’d reached inside and pushed the perfect button to make him do exactly what she wanted, Lorren grasped her hips and thrust into her so violently her head went back. Rolling up, she met his snarl with a purr of satisfaction. “That’s what I want. Show me your beast.” Lorren startled. “Errion said every man has a beast within. He said it was the most base and animal part of a man. That is what you all try so diligently to hide behind your civility.” She sighed as she cupped her breasts and twisted her nipples. “Women hide ours with simpering smiles and wide, innocent eyes.” She pursed her lips and batted her lashes at him. “But just like you, we hide what we really are.” The faux naivety was gone. Now Farjika considered him like a conniving beast that knew exactly what she wanted and would stop at nothing to get it. “I want to see your beast again.” Lifting her hands above her head in mock surrender, she whispered, “If you show me yours, I’ll show you mine.” Whatever resistance he had fled from him then. Pouncing on her, he grasped her hands and held them over her head as he poured his prick to her. Lorren met her struggles with snarls and snaps, biting her neck hard enough to leave marks. She matched him, her teeth tearing at the collar of his shirt to expose his neck. Once she bared his skin, she clamped down hard enough to snap his head back. Lowering his face to hers, he kissed her roughly, tongues dueling as her sex clamped down on him so tightly he had to drop his hands to her hips to hold her steady for his thrusts.
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Never had he let loose like this. Wild and free, he gave her everything within as he took the power that had saturated her body. She fed the energy to him slowly. Each rock of his hips gave him a bit more, making him comfortable and certain that he could handle the next blast. Again, Errion’s cautions filled his mind, trying desperately to get him to stop, but in his arrogance, he pushed them away. The power in her wasn’t strong enough to do what Errion claimed it would. Lorren felt wonderful as his orgasm rolled up, tightening his entire body. He lifted up to see her, to connect with her. Her smile of triumph was radiant. As he climaxed, she pushed a wall of energy into him. Each spurt of his cock opened a gateway that she forced power through with a brutality that shook him. As she came, she clamped around him, holding him steady for more surges of raw energy. After the longest time, she was finished with him, and pushed him off her, rolling him to his back. Utterly limp, Lorren blinked up at the ceiling, trying to make sense of the pattern above his bed. Intellectually he knew it was a painting, but for the life of him, he couldn’t make heads or tails of what the depiction represented. Into his field of vision, Farjika came. So beautiful. Her eyes were luminous as she considered him. A connection to her flowed over him, demanding of him things he swore he would never give to anyone. “Don’t fight it, Lorren.” Compassionately she smoothed back the sweaty hair from his forehead. “You never had a chance.” He wanted to touch her, but his arm was too heavy to lift. “What did you do to me?” In mimic of that innocent woman, she batted her lashes and pursed her lips. “Me?” She laughed, dropping all pretense as she fingered the edges of his shirt. “I made you mine forever.”
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Chapter Twenty
Errion had never seen anyone in such pain. Gabriyel struggled against the bed, his limbs flailing as if he fought a host of unseen enemies. Anticipating the next flash of energy, Errion came close to his bedside. Muttering something in his native tongue, Gabriyel looked up at Errion, his blue eyes compelling Errion’s most protective instincts. Silly, really, to feel protective of a man who could break him in half. Shushing him, Errion wrapped his hand around his cock and stroked. The man was simply huge. Once Errion got going, Gabriyel stopped struggling. He laid back, rubbing his hands through the short strands of hair along his head then down his neck to his nipples. When he twisted them, his hips rose, forcing his cock into Errion’s waiting fist. Unfortunately, one fist wasn’t enough. Errion climbed across his hips, settling himself before wrapping both his slick fists around Gabriyel’s prick. This elicited such a moan of pleasure mixed with pain, Errion’s own cock wept in sympathy. Regardless of the steady pace Errion set, Gabriyel increased the rhythm, his drive to find climax a vision to behold. His entire body was nothing but muscle, and when he moved, the muscles danced below his glistening skin. Against his bottom, Gabriyel’s massive thighs were solid as twin columns, digging unflinchingly into Errion’s rather tender flesh. Lorren had been brutal and vicious tonight, his demands right at the edge of what Errion could take. Just thinking of the way Lorren had slammed into him as he was bound in the chair made him shiver. Gabriyel’s muscular body brought everything back. As if Gabriyel could feel Errion’s memories, he winced and then thrust up, hard and fast, his lips twisting as Lorren’s had, his body riding hard toward the finish. Mesmerized, Errion found himself automatically leaning over, longing to taste his cock, but he managed to catch himself at the last moment and pull back. His Fentaru master had been very clear about sharing bodily fluids during tentulo. His job was to release the rest of the energy to stabilize Gabriyel. Once he accomplished that, Errion would send him and Farjika back to her skip and bid them a relieved farewell. He had no desire to entangle himself with either of them any further than he already had. Besides, he would get exactly what he wanted, which was Lorren all to himself. Bouncing him with his steady thrusts, Gabriyel came in a gush that Errion felt clear through to his shoulders. He’d joked earlier about the agony of ecstasy, but this was so much closer to the truth of that statement. Gabriyel’s face contorted into a snarling mask as he threw back his head and screamed. Errion had to struggle to hold steady and point Gabriyel’s prick straight up so his release landed on his belly. “Praise be to Raylor.”
Anitra Lynn McLeod
Once Gabriyel settled back into the bed, his body rested for now, Errion climbed off him and carefully cleaned him. Disposing of the rag by tossing it beyond the confines of the prison cell, he washed his hands, settled in the chair across from the bed and continued his silent vigil. When his Fentaru master had explained what he and Lorren must do to correct their mistake, Errion had the grand idea of using the maid and butler to assuage the passions of Farjika and Gabriyel. Robots would be perfect, because no matter how many bodily fluids they consumed, they wouldn’t become enamored of Gabriyel or Farjika. Unfortunately, she’d nixed the idea. “It’s energy we’re dealing with here. Energy is what your robots run on. You slap a surge of pure power into them, what do you think will happen?” Errion didn’t have to think—he knew. They’d blow a fuse and shut down. She explained that a human body was different, able to handle incredible amounts of energy without damage. In Farjika’s case, she’d absorbed the influx without harm, but she couldn’t retain all that swirling power forever. It had to seek an outlet. If they didn’t willingly provide one, she would find release on her own, with potentially devastating consequences. Gabriyel had taken a good portion of power from her, but in doing so, he’d put himself at risk. Lorren and Errion had to set this right, especially when the whole mess was their fault. Therefore, Errion sat, his cock hard against his trousers as he waited for the next cycle. Briefly, he wondered how Lorren faired with Farjika. He hoped the thickheaded fool had actually listened to him and taken heed of the potential dangers. Right now, Farjika and Gabriyel were unstable, but that didn’t mean they were defenseless. Anyone who mistakenly got close enough to smell them would be driven to taste them. If they tasted them, they would be compelled to mate with them. If they did that, then forever after they would do anything to protect them. Unlike the binding characteristics of love, this would be a compulsion, an indisputable instinct that nothing could override. Errion refused to become Gabriyel’s slave. Time and again Errion rose and offered Gabriyel a release. Never had he seen such insatiability. Each time he thought this climax would be the last, but each time, Gabriyel hardened again. Errion had jacked him so many times the muscles in his arms burned. The palms and fingers of his hands were wrinkled from the constant moisture of the lube. His own prick begged for attention, and Errion debated what to do. If he were quick about things, he could pleasure himself before Gabriyel’s next cycle. Turning away from Gabriyel, Errion lowered his trousers and took his own tormented cock in hand. He almost laughed at how small he felt in comparison, especially when his lovers had always praised his size. Errion knew better than to compare himself to another man in the dick department, especially a man built like Gabriyel, as he would always come out on the short end, but still, he would like to know what it was like to have a cock that big. Unbidden into his mind popped an image of Farjika dangling from the ceiling. He had outdone himself with her presentation. A flurry of disappointment consumed him that he hadn’t been able to fill her,
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or at least watch Gabriyel do so. Picturing him mounting her in his mind was as close as he was ever going to get, and he did, watching the muscles in Gabriyel’s butt flex hard each time he worked that amazing prick of his into her snug little sex. His orgasm was so close, hovering right at the edge of release. Errion tightened his fist, trying to finish quickly, but his body refused. Behind him, he heard Gabriyel thrashing against the bed and thought he had a bit more time. Closing his eyes, he redoubled his efforts, his fist flying along his length with incredible speed. Errion realized his mistake when he felt massive arms enfold his. Gabriyel murmured something in his ear, but Errion didn’t understand him. Sighing, Gabriyel translated, “I asked why you were in such a hurry.” Gabriyel’s hand covered Errion’s, and he slowed his pace considerably. “Slowly, my friend. This way you can last a long, long time.” His voice was hypnotizing. Whispered against his ear with the rich heat of his breath, his words relaxed him, so much so that Errion let go of his cock and clung to the prison bars instead. “After all you’ve done for me, let me return the favor.” Gabriyel’s hand was huge but gentle, and clearly he’d found the lube Errion had been using. His palm was slick, gliding up his shaft and cupping the head. He had a trick, where he would twist as he covered the head, just a little flick of his wrist, but the sensation was amazing. If not for the bars holding him up, Errion would have fallen to his knees. “You’ve given me so much, Errion, I have to find a way to thank you.” If he would just keep doing what he was doing, that would be thanks enough, but Errion couldn’t get the words out of his mouth. He wanted to get away, to stop this, but he felt immobilized. When Errion did find the strength to step back from the bars, determined to turn away, Gabriyel stepped into him, pressing him against cold metal. “I don’t want you to go.” Holding him captive with the strength of one arm, Gabriyel fumbled with his trousers, sliding them farther down his hips, exposing his bottom. “No!” The one word wrenched out of his throat and echoed down the hall. His ass was sore from Lorren, and after handling Gabriyel repeatedly, he knew he could not take him there. In mimic of what he’d done earlier, Gabriyel shushed him. “I’m not going to hurt you.” His hand cupped his buttocks as if testing the weight and strength of his ass. “I heard what Lorren did to you.” Slumping with relief, Errion clung to the bars, his mind racing for a solution. His Fentaru master told him not to turn his back on Gabriyel for a moment, and he had because he couldn’t control his lust. Ironically, an inability to control his passions was the exact same problem that had gotten all of them into this mess in the first place.
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Thinking quickly, he considered a way to get Gabriyel to return to the bed so he could bring him swiftly to climax. “From your angle, you can’t see how furiously his mind is working.” Out of the shadows, Farjika stepped. Proudly nude she walked right up to the bars where Gabriyel had him pinned. Her hard nipples were twin peaks that swayed seductively with each step. Her eyes gleamed in the subtle light. Her skin looked almost luminous, shining as if someone had sprinkled her with glitter. Once she was near, her scent assaulted him. There was no other word for the way her essence wrapped around his mind and penis and squeezed possessively. “He is a man consumed by his thoughts, it seems.” Gabriyel gave his cock one good, long, slow stroke from base to tip. Errion inadvertently jerked forward when he did the little wrist-flicking twist. Farjika pressed against the opposite side of the bars. “I wonder if he regrets what he’s done?” She was looking right at him but asking the question of Gabriyel. And then he realized that they could just as easily converse in their native tongue, leaving him out of their discussion entirely. There had to be a reason why they allowed him to listen in. Judging by the predatory expression on Farjika’s face, the reason probably wasn’t out of kindness. “I think he regrets what it has cost him so far.” Gabriyel continued his leisurely strokes. Pressing his mouth right to Errion’s ear, he whispered, “But I don’t think he understands that his payment isn’t nearly finished.” Before Errion knew what he was about, Gabriyel grabbed his chin, forcing his face up and between the bars. Farjika dipped her fingers to her sex and then smeared the juice over his lips, forcing her taste upon him. As soon as her essence touched his tongue, he was lost. An overwhelming urge to mate possessed him. If he could not have her, he would die trying. “Open the cage, Errion.” He couldn’t get the key out of his trousers fast enough. In his haste, he yanked his pants up, plunged his hand to his pocket, but fumbled the key to the floor. He bent and scooped it up with trembling fingers. Unlocking the door, he yanked Farjika in and plastered his mouth against hers. He thought Gabriyel would react badly to him mauling his woman, but he didn’t. In fact, he was the one who pushed Errion down on his knees so that he could worship at her feet. “I want to watch you please her.” Hungrily he ate at her, loving the slick heat of her sex, reveling in the taste of not one but the two men who had known her this night, men whose taste he knew well. Errion had to be the third and final man, or his soul would perish in torment. “I know, Errion, I know.” With a hand to his chin, she lifted him to his feet and then maneuvered him toward the bed. “Lie back, and we can all find our pleasure.”
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As if in a dream, Errion did what she said. A very small part tried to rebel, but she had him wrapped around her finger. The only way he would ever find peace was to thrust his cock into her. “I need you to fill all that emptiness in me.” Gently she caressed his chest as she straddled his hips. “I need you, Errion.” She was so eager she didn’t even bother to remove his trousers; she just pushed the two flaps out of the way, centered him to her dripping core and plunged down. Her head went back with a howl of satisfaction that drowned out his cry of shock. Energy flowed into him, through his cock, pushing against each cell. Once a cell was full to bursting, the power moved on and filled the next, and the next, until every cell in his body vibrated. Errion sobbed gently, unable to decide if he cried in pleasure, pain, or that frightful combination of both. He called out to whatever god might hear, but his pleas went unheeded by the divine. Only Gabriyel was there to soothe him. “I know, my friend, I know.” Gabriyel leaned down so that together they were looking up at Farjika. “Watch her, Errion. Watch how much pleasure you’re giving to her.” Above him, Farjika danced, rolling her hips around in a circle that swiveled his cock within. She was tight and hot, clamping around him firmly, clinging to him with selfish strength. Her walls undulated, milking him, forcing him to rise up to meet her insatiable hunger. “You can’t decide if it feels good or hurts.” Gabriyel twisted one of Errion’s nipples then the other, zinging bolts of rapture down to his swelling cock. “Let the hurt fade and you’ll discover how good she feels.” Errion was lost in overwhelming sensations. His body felt afire with a need for release. If this was even a modicum of what he’d forced Farjika to endure, he was terribly sorry. Listening to Gabriyel didn’t help him relax. Errion knew he wouldn’t find peace until he’d climaxed within her, filling her needs, binding himself to her forever. What should have terrified him didn’t. He wanted to be her slave. Gladly he would do her bidding. She would bestow her body to him if he was good and did as she wished. Her punishment would be swift but deserved. Errion wanted to be a perfect servant to every need Farjika might have. If he were an excellent slave, he would learn to anticipate her needs. “You’ve been so good, Errion.” Farjika leaned forward, her nipples brushing against his, a spark of electricity shooting across his flesh where she touched. “Such a good man to give me what I need.” She began rocking in earnest, holding her face just above his. “Kiss me, Errion.” He lifted his lips to hers and gasped as another surge of power ripped directly into his brain. Her tongue caressed his lips, then slipped inside his mouth. Rich, her taste catapulted him to another level of torment. “Come for me, Errion.” He climaxed so hard and fast he felt his body try to fold in half as all he had within burst forth in an effort to fill her.
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Lifting her hands over her head, Farjika took his offering into her body, her smile of satisfaction changing her face from merely beautiful to something divine. Farjika transformed. No longer was she a woman destined to be an empress. Lorren’s initial comment about her rang in Errion’s ears: Farjika was a goddess.
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Chapter Twenty-One
Farjika stayed atop Errion, enjoying the respite from the pounding energy. Her body was still deliciously filled with power, but a manageable amount that didn’t burn as it surged about, seeking release. What remained was expressed as strength; she felt strong, as if she could grasp the metal bars in her hands and bend them with minimal effort. If she longed for anything, she had but to ask; her men would rush to provide for her needs. Kneeling beside the bed, Gabriyel met her gaze, his eyes bright and alive, ready to do whatever she requested of him. She leaned over Errion’s supine form and kissed Gabriyel. “My hero,” she whispered in Diolan against his mouth. His smile tingled her right down to her toes when he answered. “My lady.” Her gaze spied his still-hard cock. She tsked lightly. “Whatever will we do?” Gabriyel’s gaze slid sideways toward Errion, as if subtly directing her attention. She grinned and asked, “Is he any good?” “He could give lessons to a dran’greth.” Her brows climbed. “He is better than a man trained to please other men?” Gabriyel nodded once, quickly, his longing apparent. “This I must see.” Gingerly she climbed off Errion, her sex still sucking at his prick as if determined to milk another climax from him. She sighed, as she believed that such would always be the case now. Never would the urge fully leave her. She would always hunger for one of her three men. Errion tried to follow her up, but a shake of her head compelled him to lie back. “I want you to satisfy Gabriyel for my pleasure.” Darting a glance to Gabriyel’s pulsing cock, Errion licked his lips, clearly willing to display his talent for her perusal. As she settled herself in the chair across from the bed, she hid a sudden smile. She’d been so terrified of becoming her mother. She’d been so ashamed that her mother needed the love of two men to be happy. Turned out she was even worse. Or was she? What did it matter what she needed? Who would dare to cast judgment on her, and even if someone did, so what? Did it really matter what anyone other than those closest to her thought of her? When she
Anitra Lynn McLeod
became ruler of Diola, the populace’s opinion of her would matter, to a degree, but they would not look down on her for having multiple consorts. In fact, most people in the empire considered her mother a paragon of virtue in that once she’d claimed her consorts, her eye never wandered. Prior to her bonding, her mother’s lust was legendary; Bithia had sampled a wide and deep range of men in the Diolan Empire. Once she’d found her bondmates, she’d never turned from them. Drahka and Viltori had been by Bithia’s side for more than twenty seasons. Not once had either of them looked beyond her mother. And truly, the tales of her namesake, Farjika the Dark, always praised her beauty, for surely an ugly woman would not be able to attract the devotion of so many men. She would have had the might to force them to her bed but not the allure to keep them there willingly. Her consorts had shared her bed and fought by her side; men compelled by force didn’t willingly die to protect their ruler. Farjika the Dark was strong enough and alluring enough to maintain the lust and fidelity of every man she claimed. Farjika considered what had happened and how she’d claimed all three of her men. Was it fair that they had no choice? Given a choice, would they stay by her side? She knew Gabriyel would. His confession of love was genuine. In the back of her mind, she’d always suspected that he was attracted to her; she had no idea his obsession ran so deep. Her question was regarding Lorren and Errion. She’d forced them to her by an innate understanding of the transformation taking place within her body. Although, to be fair, she was just as bound as all three of them. Farjika could no more walk away from Errion than she could leave Lorren behind. Ah, Lorren. A wicked little smile darted across her face. He’d been most angry that she’d locked him in his bedroom. She would have let him come with her, but she didn’t trust him in the rawness of his bond. She feared he wouldn’t help her ensnare Errion. Lorren seemed to be unbelievably possessive. Gabriyel had time to settle in and recognize her need for more than one man. Her thoughts brushed lightly with his, and she knew she could count on him for help. Deep inside his soul, he wanted her all for himself, but he recognized the energy within her that needed an outlet. If he could take all that power unto himself, he would, but since he couldn’t, Gabriyel accepted her need for more men. Lorren was just now coming around to her way of thinking. Amazingly, Errion had put up almost no resistance to the idea at all. He welcomed her ties with both men, as he wanted them himself. The only glitch was between Lorren and Gabriyel. Neither man liked the other and that wasn’t likely to change. As Gabriyel climbed across Errion’s chest, teasing his cock to Errion’s hungry mouth, Farjika let her hand wander to her sex. Smoothing her fingers across her clit sent tiny surges along her skin, nothing too intense, just small jolts that hardened her nipples and alerted her senses. Watching Errion suck Gabriyel was not only arousing, but also thoroughly educational. As Gabriyel said, Errion was a master of the art. He used his entire face to bring pleasure to the man he serviced. Lips, tongue, teeth, even the rough hair on his chin and cheeks became tools at his disposal.
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As a true master of oral pleasure, Errion didn’t rush. Just as he had while binding her, Errion took his time. A true connoisseur lingered over the mundane, elevating even the smallest act into something grand. Errion did so with Gabriyel’s cock. Not tentative but aggressive, he tormented and teased the massive prick hanging above his face. Willingly he gobbled the tip, his lips slurping along the shaft, and when Gabriyel lifted up, dangling his sac over his face, Errion lapped hungrily at his balls. Gabriyel clung to his climax selfishly, wanting to make Errion work for his release, but also, she suspected, Gabriyel wished to put on a show for her. So too did Errion. Watching them tease and torment one another was beyond sensual. A duel of passions, a battle of force against withholding… She debated who would win. Errion was skilled, but Gabriyel was legendary in his staying power. Watching Gabriyel’s length disappear into Errion’s mouth enkindled all her passions. Despite her intentions, she left her chair behind. When she approached, both men cast loving gazes on her. Without a word, they embraced her into their tableau, settling her above Errion’s face as Gabriyel filled her from behind. His cock slid into her, scraping the walls of her sex as Errion flicked his tongue over her clit. Gabriyel kept one hand on her hip to steady her and dropped the other behind to stroke Errion. As they moved together, she realized what she loved most about Gabriyel was his innate need to please not only her but also all involved. He was a true lover of passion, a fearless provider of lust. Just like Errion, Gabriyel didn’t worry about issues of male or female. His time as a recruit and then a palace guard left him comfortable with the pleasure of other men. “Is there room for one more?” Her head whipped around. “I got the butler to set me free.” Lorren, bare-naked Lorren, with his cock harder than stone, his eyes plaintive and hungry, stood beyond the bars. Farjika should have been able to sense him, but her attention was too riveted on Gabriyel and Errion. Gabriyel growled very low and deep in his chest, like an animal threatened. He rammed his cock hard into her, so forcefully she winced, which only made Lorren’s lip twitch. Gabriyel grasped her breast possessively. Balancing these two alpha males would take the greatest depth of her skills. She despaired that they couldn’t be more like Errion, who knew how to share. With her new strength, there was plenty of her lust to go around; not a one of them would ever go without. Although telling them that and showing them that were two different things. Her palm over Gabriyel’s heart silenced him. Her eyes met his sky-blue gaze. Despite his love-filled eyes, he despised Lorren. Gabriyel hated that Lorren might steal her away. Her heart broke as she witnessed Gabriyel’s fear.
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In Diolan, she whispered, “I would never leave you. How can you think such a thing?” Gabriyel grasped her hips and shoved his cock deep into her passage. Her eyes rolled back into her head with pleasure, but also she steadied him and demanded he allow Lorren to join them. Reluctantly, Gabriyel turned away, letting her do as she wished. Her hand to Lorren bid him entrance to the cell. Cautiously, Lorren approached. When he came near, she leaned up and kissed him, tasting his longing and his fear that he would never fit in. She disabused him of the notion with her forceful kiss. With a little careful maneuvering, she and Gabriyel slid back so that she could take Errion in her hands and Lorren could straddle his face, allowing her to lean forward and help him lick and suck at Lorren’s cock. When she wasn’t leaned over, Lorren teased her breasts, his fingers working at her clit, which often caused him to bump into Gabriyel’s cock as it filled her passage. Each time he did, Gabriyel growled low in his chest. “Please stop doing that,” she admonished him softly in Diolan. “I feel like I’m mating with an animal.” “I am an animal.” Gabriyel drew all the way out of her, then thrust up so hard he lifted her away from Lorren’s probing fingers. Lorren tried to hide his frustration, but she felt it anyway. He wanted to be the one inside her. Her gaze drifted down to Errion, who gave her a lifted a brow and a lopsided grin, as if asking what did she expect? Neither man was ever going to back down, and keeping them from going after each other would become bothersome if not downright dangerous. A secret little thrill washed over her that she could command such intense passions in two incredible men, but a niggling doubt was there too—how much of this was about the mystical bond rather than her allure? When she leaned forward and took Lorren’s cock into her mouth, she tasted herself on him. As she and Errion drew him closer to climax, Gabriyel lessened the intensity of his thrusts so as not to force more of Lorren’s prick down her throat than she could take. Even though she couldn’t see them, bent over as she was, she felt Lorren and Gabriyel sizing each other up as they faced each other over her back. Gabriyel kept a possessive grip on her hips, his fingertips digging into her flesh hard enough to mark her. As he rocked back and forth, he did so slowly, tensing every muscle he possessed. To her, Gabriyel seemed to want Lorren to see his power, his strength, and he was determined not to climax first. Lorren held still, letting her and Errion set the pace, but she felt him tensing and posturing just like Gabriyel. Errion’s cock in her hands strained upward, ready for release. Plunging his hands down through the tangle of limbs, Errion encircled her hands with his, showing her that he enjoyed a far rougher and tighter touch than she’d been giving him. Clamping her hands more firmly around him caused him to groan, which made Lorren thrust, which sent her back onto Gabriyel’s cock.
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Errion erupted, gushing against her hands and belly, pushing her over the edge, clamping her firmly around Gabriyel. He hung on to her so tightly he immobilized her. Against his will, Lorren came, jetting into her mouth. Satisfied that he’d prevailed by lasting longer, Gabriyel took three leisurely strokes, then came deep inside, filling her with his pleasure. For a long moment, they were a tangle of flesh, quivering with release, all issues and challenges lost in the beauty of climax. But like all moments, this one was fleeting. Once the last of the jolts had faded away, Lorren lifted her up and kissed her, tasting himself on her lips, his hand cupping her sex as he also touched Errion’s spent cock. The only one he refused to make any contact with was Gabriyel. Not to be outdone, Gabriyel clung to her, kissing her neck in an effort to pull her attention away from Lorren. Their conflict swirled the energy in her body, pressing the power against her skull. “Farjika?” Errion moved Lorren back so he could sit up. “You’re bleeding.” He touched below her nose. His hand came away covered in crimson. Once she saw the blood, she felt the cold wetness slip down her lips and off her chin. Drops splashed against Errion’s cock like pudgy red tears. A wave of dizziness caused her to fall back into Gabriyel’s arms. Quickly they untangled and got her laid back on the bed, a cool cloth pressed against her face. As swiftly as the pain had come, it disappeared, and the bleeding stopped. She sat up, baffled as to the cause until Lorren and Gabriyel argued over which one of them would carry her upstairs. Her head pounded and her nose gushed anew. “It’s you two idiots!” Errion grasped her arm and pulled her from the cell. Before Lorren or Gabriyel could follow them, Errion clanged the bars shut. “You two are going to stay there until you can stop fighting.” He plucked the key from the lock, slipped it in his pocket and then helped her up the stairs.
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Chapter Twenty-Two
Gabriyel watched as Lorren shook the bars, yelling after Errion. Against his will, he could see why Farjika was attracted to him, at least physically. Lorren was tall, lean, muscular and had just the right amount of dark body hair along his chest, sex and legs. Lorren was perfectly proportioned. Even his cock had an amazing symmetry, where Gabriyel’s curved to the left, but his visual appeal couldn’t make up for what he really was. Inside the man was a monster. What he’d done to Farjika was unforgivable. He’d hurt her and caused her tremendous pain. Although, to be fair, if Lorren hadn’t done what he’d done, Gabriyel never would have had the courage to approach her and tell her the truth about his feelings. Likely, he would have spent his life admiring her from afar, settling for another woman who he would have loved but not with the depth of emotion that he felt for Farjika. Not that Gabriyel was about to thank Lorren for any of that. Lorren deserved nothing but gut-wrenching punishment. “You’re wasting your time.” Gabriyel settled back on the bed. He’d been in their little prison for quite a while now. Despite his best efforts, he’d found not a single weakness. “Rattle the bars all you want, they aren’t going to budge.” “Shut up.” Lorren didn’t even bother to look at him. After bellowing at the top of his lungs for one of the robots and getting absolutely nothing in response, he finally relented. With a last shake of the door, he turned. “And what makes you think you get the bed?” Hands casually placed behind his head, Gabriyel measured him with his gaze. “Because I was here first.” Right after he spoke, he realized how childish they both sounded. Errion was right—their fighting was hurting Farjika, and that was the last thing he wanted. However, knowing something intellectually and actually correcting the behavior were two different things. If Lorren would just bow to his superiority, this would all be resolved. Lorren’s right eye narrowed in assessment. “This is my home.” “So by extension, that would make this your cell?” Gabriyel asked. “Yes, so move.” Lorren pointed at the chair. “You can sit over there.” Stretching out comfortably, Gabriyel said, “This must be very difficult for you. Master of the manor, captive in his own prison.” The remark had the desired effect. Lorren’s nostrils flared as his upper lip twitched. Clearly, the man had no fighting skills at all. Everything he felt, he showed with his body language. Foolish man. Only a
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rank amateur displayed his anger during battle. Feeling the anger was a good thing, as it heightened a man’s strength, but displaying it only gave your opponent advantage. Gabriyel could see Lorren was considering jumping him. Again, foolishly, he was judging the distance with his gaze, broadcasting his intentions more clearly than an information crier at the palace. Goading him, Gabriyel patted the area next to his hips. “We could share.” He deliberately took his gaze from his cock to Lorren’s mouth. “Often a soldier will offer such pleasures to his captain to curry favor.” It wasn’t true, at least not in his case, but his comment increased Lorren’s fury. At any moment, he was going to lash out in uncontrollable rage, and that’s when Gabriyel would have him. He almost felt ashamed at how easy taking him down would be. “I’m not a soldier, and you most defiantly aren’t my captain.” Lorren placed his hands on his hips, trying to make himself look larger, another obvious ploy. “You couldn’t even protect Farjika.” Lorren took a step in his direction. “A real man would have kept her safe, but what did you do? Oh, right, you fucked her as she dangled helplessly from the ceiling.” The jibe landed and struck deep, but Gabriyel held his position. “As I recall, that was your idea.” He waited a moment as if remembering. “Apparently, you weren’t up to the task yourself.” Lorren’s entire body tightened another notch. Pushing him over the edge was going to be incredibly simple, not to mention a lot of fun. “Well, if you’re not going to suck my cock, then I’m going to get some sleep.” With a bored sigh, Gabriyel rolled over on his side, facing away from Lorren, practically daring him to attack, which he did. Launching himself across the room, Lorren growled as he jumped for Gabriyel’s back, but by the time he landed, Gabriyel had rolled over, pressing against the wall. Stunned, Lorren landed hard on the bed. Before he knew what hit him, Gabriyel had him flat on his back. He pinned Lorren’s arms down with his knees. Settling himself across his chest, Gabriyel smiled down at his captive. “You seem to forget who I am.” Gabriyel leaned close. “I have spent my entire life mastering the art of fighting. I’ve been told I’m very good at it. That’s probably why Farjika’s father put me in charge of her safety.” “You’ve been doing a great job.” Lorren smirked. “I’m sure her father can’t wait to reward you for what you’ve done to her.” Shame flushed heat across his face. “I could kill you with one blow.” Up his sleek brows went. “And what do you think Farjika will think of that?” “I’ll tell her it was an accident.” Gabriyel leaned close enough to taste Lorren’s sharp breaths. “Accidents happen all the time, especially when two men are locked in a small cell.” Lorren didn’t start to panic until Gabriyel placed his forearm across his throat. “Get off me, you muscle-bound animal!”
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“Degenerating into name calling. The last act of a pathetic coward who attacks when a man’s back is turned.” Lorren spewed a variety of vulgarity, most of it Gabriyel was unfamiliar with, but he always did enjoy language lessons. Lorren’s chest was tight against his legs and buttocks, feeling hard and just a bit rough from his body hair. Even after a powerful release within Farjika, he grew hard again. Never in his life had he been capable of such rapid cycling. He hadn’t been this excitable since he was nineteen seasons old. “Struggle all you’d like.” Gabriyel adjusted his legs, digging his knees in to steady his position as he crushed Lorren’s arms down by his sides. Lifting his hips displayed to Lorren what he was inadvertently doing to him. “All your struggling is giving me ideas.” Snarling and snapping, Lorren redoubled his efforts to break from the hold. However, without any training, that simply wasn’t going to happen. He strained and bucked, wrenching his body side to side to push Gabriyel off, but he wasn’t going anywhere. He tried to use his unbound legs to advantage, but he couldn’t get any leverage with the mount position Gabriyel held. Once he’d stopped, Gabriyel taunted him into another flurry of struggles by yawning hugely. Eventually, he achieved his goal. Lorren had utterly exhausted himself, while Gabriyel had retained all of his energy. Of course, when he pointed this out to him, Lorren wasn’t at all grateful for the information. “I’m simply trying to instruct you so that you might become a better soldier.” “I’m not a soldier!” Lorren went limp, trying to fool Gabriyel into releasing him, but he wasn’t falling for it. “What are you?” “I’m a businessman. One of the most notable on all of Avalith.” Gabriyel appreciated how difficult it was for Lorren to look smug with his arms pinned along his sides and a man sitting on his chest. Somehow, he managed. “I’m also one of the wealthiest.” Gabriyel nodded as if he were genuinely impressed. “You designed the maid that Errion sicced on me.” A flash of jealousy sparkled in Lorren’s gaze. Apparently, Lorren didn’t know that Errion had been playing with him. Every time he turned around, this man just gave him more leverage. As superior as he felt, Gabriyel also felt a little sorry for him. Lorren had probably never been in a fight in his life, whereas that was all Gabriyel knew. Clearly, he had the advantage. He didn’t need to rub Lorren’s face in his defeat, but he couldn’t seem to stop. “Well, after Errion got things going with that amazing mouth of his, he had the maid finish me off so he could watch.” Tilting his hips forward, Gabriyel deliberately rubbed his cock up Lorren’s chest. “You two certainly do like to watch.” He rocked back. “I guess when you’re not very good at doing, you have to be satisfied with watching.” Lorren’s eyes went wide as the insult landed.
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Gabriyel leaned forward and whispered, “I noticed you couldn’t take your eyes off me and Farjika. Now that you’ve seen a real man in action, do you think you might be able to fumble your way through an encounter? Who knows, you might accidentally get her to climax.” Nothing infuriated a man more than denigrating his bedroom skills. Lorren fell for it just as hard as Gabriyel had fallen for Farjika. Rage turned his handsome face into a twisted mask. Spewing violent threats, he struggled so hard he almost worked one arm free, but all Gabriyel had to do was clamp his knees against him. “I’ll let you go if you surrender.” “I’m not surrendering to you!” “Well, then this is going to be a long night.” Gabriyel glanced around the sparsely furnished cell. “Not a lot to do but talk. Is there something on your mind?” Lorren gnashed his teeth in the direction of Gabriyel’s penis. “Thanks for the offer, but I’ve seen how incompetent you are at sex. You practically ripped Errion apart. Poor man probably won’t be able to sit comfortably for days.” Gabriyel lowered his hand. “Although, I guess I could use your face for target practice.” Gingerly he stroked his cock, watching horror widen Lorren’s eyes. “You wouldn’t dare.” “What’s to stop me?” Gabriyel continued to stroke. “I tried to engage you in conversation, but you refused, so…” Slipping his tongue to the edge of his upper lip in mock concentration, Gabriyel stroked and pointed his prick right at Lorren’s mouth. Lorren clenched his eyes tightly, and Gabriyel thought he was protecting himself from the forthcoming gushing tide, but instead, below his butt he felt Lorren’s chest heave. A single tear slid out the corner of one eye. Lorren turned his head away, trying to hide the fact that he was crying. A long time ago, when Gabriyel had been very young, a boy in his village held him down, tormenting him about his thin arms until he cried. After rubbing dirt in his face, the boy had let him up, but Gabriyel had never forgotten his humiliation at having to walk across the main part of the village to reach the stream. His tears had turned the dirt to mud and everyone he encountered could see his shame. While he washed the mess away, more tears had poured down his cheeks, and he vowed that someday, he would be bigger than Roland. When he was, he would rub his face in the dirt. Then he realized he’d be as bad as Roland was, so instead, he vowed to never, ever bully someone else, which was precisely what he was doing now. Earlier, he’d thought that Lorren’s handsome exterior was the perfect camouflage for the monster within, but now he realized what Errion said was true; within every man, there lurked a beast. Sometimes the beast hungered for the power of sex, but sometimes the beast hungered for the humiliation of another. Disappointed with himself, Gabriyel climbed off, ready for Lorren to swing, but he didn’t. Lorren rolled away, facing the wall, his body trembling slightly as he tried to hold back his tears.
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Gabriyel opened his mouth to apologize but didn’t. Lorren was probably mortified beyond belief. Anything Gabriyel said would only make the situation worse. Gabriyel felt like a complete failure. What kind of a man took advantage as he had? He knew Lorren didn’t have any fighting skills, and still he’d engaged him physically. Unable to say anything, Gabriyel settled on the edge of the bed and placed his hand on Lorren’s back. Lorren didn’t flinch away. He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “My father used to denigrate me until I lashed out. Then he would put his massive hand on my head and hold me back with one strong arm.” Gabriyel had seen exactly what he described: a far bigger man picking on some boy half his size. What he’d just done to Lorren was similar, but a father tormenting his young son was worse. Not that any of that was an excuse for Gabriyel’s bad behavior. “I showed him though. I have more money than him, a bigger manor than him, and Farjika is far better than his wife.” Sucking in a huge gasp of air that lifted him from the bed, Lorren stopped on a cry of frustration. “How pathetic. All these turns and I’m still fighting my father.” He rolled onto his back, looking up at the ceiling. “And before you even ask, I don’t want Farjika just to rub her in my father’s face.” Gabriyel shook his head as he moved his hand to his lap. “I didn’t think that. I know why you want her. You want her for the same reason I do.” Their eyes met. Lorren’s were red-rimmed and exhausted. He looked far older than he truly was. But they gave each other a measure of respect and reached a tentative understanding. “When I saw her enter that party, I couldn’t take my eyes from her.” Lorren held his gaze, determined to make him understand. “I’ve never seen a woman so proud and sure of herself. She was simply stunning.” He looked away, then back. “Imagine my delight when I discovered she was smart too.” They both chuckled. Beauty and brains were not always mutually exclusive states. Farjika was an intriguing combination of both. “I wanted her so much I think I would have given anything to spend even the briefest moment in her presence.” Lorren stopped speaking, clearly frustrated that he couldn’t put all his feelings into words. Understanding, Gabriyel offered up his own story. “In the palace, she was always there, but I did not see her fully, until after her Harvest.” Gabriyel looked to Lorren for confirmation that he understood what that was. “She offered up her virginity to the Harvester.” Lorren nodded as he sat up. Together they sat side by side on the edge of the bed. “Afterwards, the woman’s parents throw an elaborate party to celebrate. I was stationed at the archway of the great hall, and when Farjika walked in, I almost fell to my knees.” Lorren nodded, commiserating.
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“She just took all the air out of the room, and all the light seemed to fall on her. I literally could not see anyone else.” Gabriyel let the intense feelings of that moment wash over him. “She wasn’t gangly or awkward as so many young women are at that age. Farjika was smooth, sophisticated, regal…and there I stood, not fit to touch her shoe.” Clearly understanding, Lorren chuckled. “I thought the same thing when I saw her for the first time.” “But you’re not like I am.” Gabriyel considered Lorren for a moment. “On Diola, you’d be of her class and allowed to pursue her. I could not. Even though I am the captain of her guard, I am still a servant, and she will always be royalty.” His station to her was what complicated matters between them. Even now, he couldn’t really be with her until her father released him from his duties. Gabriyel sighed. “The day her father appointed me to watch over her was not a happy one for me. To always be so close to her, to have such intimacy with her, yet be beyond her was cruel torture.” “Intimacy?” Laughing harshly, Gabriyel met Lorren’s gaze. “Guards stay with her at all times unless we are dismissed. Farjika often forgot we stood guard in her rooms. There were times when she would change her dress repeatedly before a celebration. I had to stand there and watch without watching.” Lorren whistled. “She didn’t notice your…” His gaze drifted to Gabriyel’s still hard cock. “If she did, she gave no indication.” Several occasions flashed through his mind where his erection had lifted up the edge of his loincloth despite the metal marks of rank that should have held it down. Adjusting himself without attracting attention was difficult but not impossible. Usually he pretended to check his weapons as he eased the fabric down. “I do not say this to belittle her in anyway, but we are almost like furniture. You wouldn’t notice a chair unless you wished to sit.” Both their gazes drifted to the chair across the room. “Those we protect only see us when they need protection. Since Farjika felt entirely comfortable in her rooms, we blended into the surroundings.” “I’ll bet when you got back to your room you masturbated your dick off.” “I wanted to, but I didn’t. I couldn’t.” Tentatively, Gabriyel explained about tribute. “That is the only time we are allowed to find release by our own hand.” Lorren’s mouth dropped open. “Once a cycle?” Together they converted the time. “I can’t wrap my head around a release every tenth of a turn.” Lorren looked at him with something like awe. “And you’ve held to that?” “Mostly.” Gabriyel considered lying, but sharing secrets was a way to build friendship and trust. To keep their group together, he and Lorren had to find a way to make peace. “For the most part, yes, but there were other avenues available to me, eventually.” He explained that after advancing in rank he could afford yondies. “Paid women, but still, it wasn’t as if I could afford one every night.”
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“What about the other men? Didn’t any of your soldiers try to curry your favor?” Gabriyel winced. “I lied. I’ve never asked, none have offered, and I wouldn’t anyway. I’ve heard of it though, and said it only to goad you.” Lorren punched his arm playfully. “And here I was thinking you were getting satisfied left and right.” “More like being tempted constantly.” Gabriyel lowered his voice. “When Errion showed me what that maid could do, I thought that when I rescued Farjika, I would take her with me.” “A pale substitute for Farjika.” “But she would be there every night. Gods, I probably would have destroyed the thing in a season.” “Wouldn’t that be considered ‘by your own hand’?” Gabriyel shrugged. “The magistrate would have to render a ruling on the subject, but it’s all a moot point now.” “Too bad we can’t get the maid in here.” Gabriyel glanced over and discovered Lorren was as hard as he was. “I have never felt like this in my life.” Elbows on his knees, Lorren peered between his legs at his prick. “Not even when Errion and I were younger and seemed to be constantly aroused by everything and everyone.” Agreeing, Gabriyel whispered, “There are ways to deal with our mutual dilemma.” Carefully considering, Lorren nodded. “I suppose there are. But unlike Errion, I don’t like to be the bottom.” “Neither do I.” Lorren met his gaze. “Then how do we—” Gabriyel kissed him hard, his hand wrapping around Lorren’s cock in a smooth, possessive motion. After a stunned breath, Lorren reacted. He kissed him back harder, his fist encompassing Gabriyel’s cock with a crushing grip. Moaning in mutual encouragement, they continued their aggressive encounter, each refusing to lie down for the other. Together they stood, which gave Gabriyel a slight advantage as he was taller, but mainly he wanted to stand so they would have better access. Domination mattered far less than mutual pleasure. Pressing their bodies tightly together, they were able to thrust against one another, their palms providing a smooth surface to skim their pricks against as precome lessened the friction. Breaking their intense kiss, Gabriyel lowered his head to Lorren’s shoulder, wrapping his arm around his back, placing his hand against his buttocks. Gripping his ass, Gabriyel forcefully rocked his hips, pressing him so firmly into him he was almost smashing his own hand in the process. Still, the aggression felt good, like a fighting fuck that only another strong man could give him. Hard muscle was unforgiving as their two powerful bodies clashed in a dance of violent passion.
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Lorren mimicked his pose. Together they worked their frantic forms against the other. They each tried to master one another, but in this, they were evenly matched. Through the haze of lust, Gabriyel was determined to hold on, to wait until Lorren couldn’t hold back anymore. Immediately, he recognized this as another form of competition, but still, delaying their release would increase the pleasure when it came. Grunts and growls echoed off the stone walls as they each neared release. Lorren’s sweaty body carried the faint scent of his cologne, but also Farjika’s essence, which was pleasing but also sparked a drive to replace her scent with his own. Gabriyel wanted to brand himself upon Lorren just as surely as Lorren wanted to do the same to him. “I loved watching you with her tonight,” Lorren said, his voice strained. “The way your butt clenched hard with each thrust into her snug cunny.” Lorren bit Gabriyel’s shoulder, causing him to roar back with a snarl. “I wanted to be behind her, my cock buried in her ass feeling your power rocking both of us off our feet.” Gabriyel thrust forward, tightening his buttocks below Lorren’s hand. “Imagine she’s here, between us, each of us filling her.” Lorren hissed the words through clenched teeth as he bit Gabriyel’s neck. “I can feel you through her, feel her satisfaction at possessing both of us, her cries growing as we fuck harder and harder.” Picturing what Lorren described increased the tension swirling inside. Body taut and straining, Gabriyel rubbed his chest against Lorren’s, their nipples dueling as they palmed each other’s pricks. “Feel her body sliding between us, slick with our sweat, and then her fragile little cunny convulses on your enormous cock, undulating along the shaft, compressing your prick so firmly you can’t thrust anymore.” Gabriyel could almost feel what Lorren described. All the energy that filled him from Farjika surged, seeking a union with the energy inside Lorren. Lowering his head, he kissed Lorren hard, his tongue plunging between his lips, and there the clouds of power collided. Time slowed as the energy flowed between them, mixing, then equalizing. Once their clashing energies reached a balance, time returned to a normal pace, but Gabriyel knew he was now as bonded to Lorren as he was to Farjika and Errion. Tearing his mouth away, Lorren peered into his eyes, his shock giving way to understanding. He lowered his head to Gabriyel’s shoulder and redoubled his efforts to give and find release. In their mutual bliss, they pushed each other higher, pressed harder and engaged in the most violent encounter either had ever experienced without penetration. From a distance, their writhing bodies would appear locked in mortal combat. “Someday I will have you on your back with your legs around my hips.” Gabriyel gripped Lorren’s butt and cock possessively.
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Nipping his lips, Lorren snarled, “I’ll have you on your knees, my cock so far up your ass you’ll be able to taste it at the back of your throat.” Flinging vulgar scenarios at each other built their lust to a pulse pounding edge of madness. When Gabriyel came, he crushed Lorren to him so tightly neither of them could breathe. Lorren gushed against his palm, their combined release hot and sticky between their heaving bodies. Clinging to one another, they struggled to stay standing as they caught their breaths. “I guess I was wrong.” A familiar voice broke the peaceful moment. Both Gabriyel and Lorren whipped their heads around to stare at Lorren’s father. Lorren stiffened in his arms, his shock visceral as his fingertips dug into Gabriyel’s back, seeking support. “I thought for certain it would be my son with the girl, but this isn’t much of a surprise either.” Behind Lorren’s rotund father, a row of palace guards stood, their emotionless eyes seeing without judgment. Their leader was doing plenty of that for them. As if yanked from his past to mock all that he’d tried so desperately to become, the bully who had tormented him about his skinny arms, shoved dirt in his face and berated him throughout his childhood now commanded a unit of men whose purpose here was clear: they had come to clean up the mess that Gabriyel had made.
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Chapter Twenty-Three
Lorren wanted to sink into the stone like water, his form dissipating into nothingness. Anything, even death, would be better than the mocking assessment of his father. Despite the years, his growth and all his accomplishments, he still felt his father’s cold hand pressing against his forehead, his laughter ringing in his ears as tears streamed down his face. His mind took him back to that last day in his father’s house, when he’d caught him and Errion in the study. His moue of disgust then was the same as now. Rather than curling his lip as so many did, Lorren’s father smeared his lips sideways. To Lorren it appeared as if his mouth tried to run from his face. Errion, ever ready with a vicious quip, had declared that if he were attached to a face that ugly, he’d try to get away too. The memory made Lorren smile and helped him resist the urge to leap away from Gabriyel. It was his shock of being caught, not his shame at his behavior, that compelled the action, but Lorren deliberately stood his ground. Holding on to Gabriyel, feeling his incredible strength, gave Lorren the fortitude he needed to confront his father. “So desperate to see me you are willing to trespass in my home?” Lorren kissed Gabriyel firmly, which, to his surprise and delight, Gabriyel returned with equal passion. After their acknowledging kiss, Lorren sauntered over to the bars. “If you wanted something, you had but to contact me.” Confusion righted his mouth upon his face, but nothing would ever remove the utter loathing in his father’s eyes. “I wanted a normal son, and instead your mother dumped you on me.” The insult hit Lorren with all the power of a swift kick to the gut. If not for Gabriyel’s somewhat odd teaching methods, he might have reacted, but schooled, he did the opposite of what he felt. Lorren laughed. “I’m sure with her fancy new vagina Shyla can drop some crotchfruit that will live up to your exacting standards.” Wincing at the vulgarity, his father stood there nonplused. As if he’d just now realized they were not alone, Lorren nodded to the guards behind him. “Who are your friends?” He recognized that their uniforms were similar to what Gabriyel had worn, but he didn’t think they were the same men Gabriyel had commanded. “They are here to escort you to Diola.” A strong feeling of dread skittered along Lorren’s spine. When his gaze spied Gabriyel, he realized it was Gabriyel’s feeling of impending doom that had sparked the reaction in his mind. When he opened up his awareness, he felt Farjika and Errion’s thoughts too. All of them were in various degrees of despair.
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“I just helped them find their missing lady. I had a feeling you and the pervert you’ve chosen to live with had abducted her.” Without even a last look, Lorren’s father waddled his way up the stairs and out of his life, hopefully forever. It didn’t surprise Lorren in the least that his father was responsible for calling the authorities on him. Repeatedly, he’d tried to get him arrested for various crimes, none of which stuck. However, this involved the laws of another planet. Lorren didn’t think his barrister could make this go away with a neat and tidy bundle of papers. The captain of the guard stepped forward. At least Lorren thought he was the captain. His uniform was exactly like Gabriyel’s right down to the row of metal plates sewn into the edge of his brown loincloth. Judging by the lack of them on the other guards, they must symbolize rank. He gave a short speech in Diolan, his gaze weighing equally on Lorren and Gabriyel. He left three of his men at the cell bars and took the rest up the stairs. Lorren turned to find Gabriyel, head down, shoulders slumped and his jaw gritted. “What did he say?” Sky-blue eyes met his. “We are to be tried for treason.” “Treason?” “Abducting the daughter of the empress is treason against the crown.” Incredulous, Lorren blurted, “But we didn’t abduct her. She came of her own free will!” “Try telling that to her new captain.” Gabriyel sat heavily on the bed. “Eventually, you and Errion will probably be returned to Avalith.” “And you?” Just a quarter spin ago, Lorren couldn’t have cared less what happened to Gabriyel, but their newly forged connection compelled a deep fear—he didn’t think any of them could live without the others. Oh, they could exist—they could draw air, eat, all of the necessities of life—but there would be no joy in that for them. The bond they forged was mystical, but not frivolous. There was a reason their souls had combined. They needed each other. Of that, Lorren had no doubt. When Gabriyel didn’t answer, Lorren asked again, “What will happen to you?” After a very long while, where Lorren could see Gabriyel debate telling the truth or not, he finally spoke. “I will be put to the stone.” Lorren had no idea what that was. When Gabriyel explained, he shook his head. “Stop! I don’t want to hear any more.” Appalled, Lorren paced the length of the cell. “What kind of civilized people crush their criminals under a pile of rocks?” “Well, if I’m lucky, they’ll just use one big stone, crushing me instantly.” Gabriyel clapped one hand over the other as a visual aid that roiled Lorren’s empty belly. “The other way is very slow, giving the condemned plenty of time to consider the egregious nature of their trespass.” A deep breath expanded Gabriyel’s already massive chest. “I think a slave violating the daughter of the empress is probably going to result in the slower version.”
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“And I’m the one who made you do it.” Lorren joined him on the bed. Their combined weight caused the mattress to sag, pressing their shoulders together. “Don’t.” Gabriyel spit the one word out. “What?” Lorren countered. “Don’t feel badly about the massive mess I’ve made? All of this is my fault.” “You made me do something I’ve always wanted to do.” Gabriyel’s voice was so soft it was barely a whisper. “And I don’t regret what I’ve done.” Casting him a grim smile, he said, “If I have to die for my actions, I can honestly say that she was worth it.” Lorren rolled his eyes. “You really are in love.” Gabriyel’s burst of laughter caused all three guards to glance over their shoulders and into the cell. Once they assessed the situation, they turned away. “Why aren’t they watching everything we do?” Lorren puzzled over the way they stood facing away from them. It wouldn’t be that difficult to sneak up and grab a neck or a weapon as they were within arm reach of the bars. “Dismissal.” Gabriyel grimaced. “I’m sure Roland told them to stand that way. It’s show of disrespect to turn your back on a fellow soldier.” “Because only a coward would attack a man when his back was turned.” “You’re a fast learner.” Gabriyel slipped his arm around him and clapped his hand to his shoulder. “I am honestly disappointed that we will not have more time together.” “As am I.” Lorren meant every word. He realized he hadn’t disliked Gabriyel, he’d been intimidated by him. “You know, for hating your guts not too long ago, this turnabout is nothing short of amazing.” Gabriyel nodded. “I guess we will never find out who will kneel or lie back for the other first.” Lorren laughed. “I lied. I’ve been the bottom for Errion plenty of times and loved it.” Gabriyel’s chuckle vibrated the bed. “I lied as well.” His smile transformed the harsh lines of his face, softening his gruff exterior as it wiped away his worry, if only for a moment. “When I was a recruit, it was not expressly forbidden to find peace with my fellow soldiers, but it was frowned upon. So, as long as we did not get caught and none complained, they left us to our own devices.” Leaning conspiratorially close, he added, “Can you imagine what took place in a dark room filled with over a hundred hot and sweaty men desperate for release?” Lorren’s dick stood at attention. He glanced down and wryly offered, “Obviously I can.” Together they laughed. Despite everything going on around them, this time of sharing was valuable to Lorren. He had no idea what would happen, but he didn’t want to regret a moment. He’d lived his life on the edge of propriety, always pushing, always willing to put himself out there as he sought his true needs and desires. He didn’t want this to be any different. “How long will they keep us here?”
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Shrugging, Gabriyel leaned over, and slipped his lips around Lorren’s cock. Shock waves rolled up his body. Moaning, he cupped his head. His short hair was silky below his fingertips, the muscles at the back of his neck as solid as the rest of him. He swore the man worked out the muscles in his lips and tongue, they were so firm as he swirled his tongue expertly around the sensitive tip. Gabriyel maneuvered himself to the floor, between his knees, and took the entire length of his cock into his mouth. A cry of pleasure escaped him. He saw the guards turn, then turn away, one of them flushing bright red. Lorren would have said something to him, but he wouldn’t have understood him, so there was no point. Besides, he didn’t want anything to interrupt Gabriyel. Leisurely, Gabriyel slid up and down along his cock as if they had all the time in the world. He used every body part he could to heighten Lorren’s pleasure: he pressed the palm of his hand below his balls; he used his long fingers to fondle his sac; his lips caressed along with his tongue; even his teeth raked lightly along his shaft. Lost in a daze of passion, Lorren hardly noticed when Gabriyel’s amazingly slick fingers pressed against his ass. Swirling them carefully, he relaxed him before he plunged one finger within. Like the expert he was, he knew right where to press. Lorren’s entire body curled upward, his thighs tightening to stop himself from bucking. The last thing he wanted to do was dislodge Gabriyel’s mouth. As if to punish him for his greedy thoughts, Gabriyel pulled away. By the time Lorren blinked up and focused his gaze, Gabriyel had planted his prick right against Lorren’s bottom. “I guess I win.” Lifting Lorren’s legs and pushing them back, Gabriyel slid up slowly. He felt so good that Lorren couldn’t even be angry that he’d taken advantage. What did it matter who did who first? In the midst of the danger facing them, letting Gabriyel penetrate his ass first was hardly that big of a deal. Except it was a big deal. As he’d noted before, the man was simply huge. When Lorren grimaced, Gabriyel halted his forward slide. Breathing slow and even, he waited for Lorren to nod slightly before he continued. Stopping, starting, ever so slowly and gently, Gabriyel eased the full length of his prick into Lorren. Once there, they both released a held breath. They didn’t need words as their connection allowed an exchange of images, clips of phrases. Lorren knew how tight and hot he felt along Gabriyel’s glorious cock, and Gabriyel knew how big and pulsing he felt buried in Lorren’s bottom. He even understood how he’d slicked up his dick—Errion and his everpresent tube of lube. He’d left it in the cell when he’d come to play with Gabriyel. “You can yell at me in Diolan if you think it will help,” Lorren offered. “Help what?” Gabriyel rocked his hips as he smoothed his hand up Lorren’s belly, his fingers skimming over the delineated muscles of his abs. “Your image before your people. Perhaps they will think you subdued me.” Lorren lifted his hands above his head in surrender.
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“So I beat you into submission and managed to get myself locked in here without my clothes?” Gabriyel’s lifted brows conveyed his incredulity. “And that kiss you laid on me ruined any image that either you or I forced the other to do anything.” Together they chuckled. “All right, it was a stupid idea.” Lorren sat up, causing Gabriyel to pant and wince. “Too tight?” “Way too tight. Lie back before you crush my cock.” His laughter flexed him around Gabriyel and caught the attention of the guards. After examining them, they turned away, but one of them kept his head turned just enough so he could watch them out of the corner of his eye. “If you’re looking to improve my image, laughing while I’ve got my cock up your ass certainly isn’t going to help.” “I’m not laughing at you but at a memory of when I’d inadvertently glued my dick up Errion’s ass.” Lorren waved off the impending question. “Don’t ask. We’ll just start laughing again.” Pulling his legs back and parting his thighs, he added, “And right now I certainly don’t feel like laughing.” “Nor do I.” Unlike his usual fast and furious romps, this was languid and leisurely. Gabriyel commanded his attention as he worked his prick in and out with no effort to reach climax. The intensity of his look was almost too much. This wasn’t a frantic coupling to reach orgasm. This was as close to lovemaking as he’d ever been with a man. Uncomfortable with the intimacy, Lorren clenched his cheeks tightly together, hoping to speed Gabriyel up, but he just kept to his steady, plodding pace. “They could wrench us apart at any moment.” Lorren didn’t want either of them left in torment, because he knew the first thing those guards would do was separate them. Gabriyel shook his head. “Errion won’t tell them where the keys are, so they will have to cut the lock.” Smiling, Gabriyel slipped his hands below Lorren’s buttocks and pulled him closer to the edge of the bed. “We have plenty of time, and I don’t wish to rush.” Understanding hit Lorren then, and he stopped pushing him to climax. This might be Gabriyel’s last time, not just for a long time but forever. “I don’t mind if you want to close your eyes and think of her.” Lorren wouldn’t be insulted. It was the least he could do considering this entire mess was his and Errion’s fault. Technically, they hadn’t abducted Farjika, but Errion holding the images over her head was certainly coercion. Willingly, she allowed Errion to tie her up, but what came after certainly wasn’t done of her own free will. Leaning forward as he pushed his legs back, Gabriyel covered Lorren with his body, lowering his face until he kissed him. Strong and firm, he kissed him as if to tell him without words exactly how he felt about him. Gabriyel did it all without closing his eyes for longer than a blink. Moving back a bit, he said, “I am with you.”
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Never in a million turns would he ever figure this man out. “But until a short while ago, you didn’t even like me.” Lorren was at once afraid of and hungry for the intimacy Gabriyel offered. There had been slow times with Errion but not quite like this. When Errion expressed his love, he did it violently, hungrily, like he had in the carriage. Lorren did the same. What he’d done to Errion tonight was a perfect example. Rough and wild had always been their way. This, this tenderness, was unfamiliar territory. “I like you now.” Gabriyel smirked as he leaned back, slipping his hands down to twist Lorren’s nipples, flinging electricity straight down to his prick. “I like you on your back with your legs spread.” He lunged forward, ramming his cock balls-deep, jostling Lorren against the bed. Bracing himself, Lorren put his hands above his head, pressing his palms into the rough stones of the wall. “I like the rough of your body hair against my waist and hips.” Gabriyel pulled all the way out, then thrust so hard Lorren’s eyes rolled back in his head. “I like the feel of your muscles against mine.” Gabriyel set a pattern of drawing back, complimenting him, thrusting forward, complimenting him again. Repeatedly he plunged into his body, his strokes as steady as his gaze. In his eyes, Lorren saw himself anew. Gabriyel praised his physical form from the tiny cleft of his chin to the girth of his cock, but then he admired his home, his robots and his passionate relationship with Errion. Everything his father disdained, Gabriyel commended. “You are more daring, more self-realized, than any man I have ever known, especially myself.” A part of Lorren wanted to dismiss all he’d said with some flippant reply, but he didn’t, because Gabriyel was telling him a truth that he needed to hear. Never had his father ever said one kind thing about him. Gabriyel somehow managed to make up for that lifetime of verbal abuse with his clear, concise and utter conviction that in total Lorren was a good man. “I hated you because I thought your handsome exterior hid a monster, but that isn’t so. You lust like any man does, but you express yours with a physicality that I have never dared to indulge. Not until you forced me to acknowledge the truth.” Gabriyel continued his rhythmic pounding as he spoke. “Tonight with Farjika went beyond my wildest dreams. I thought if I ever had her, I would seduce her with wine, and—” “Soft lights, silky bedding.” Lorren almost laughed as he picked up the thread of Gabriyel’s thought. “I too had that same notion.” His plans had fallen apart once she was in his arms and his beast picked up her scent. “But it’s a woman’s idea of seduction, not a man’s.” Gabriyel intensified his beat. “I told myself that fantasy when the reality was I wanted her panting and wild with need, begging for my cock, just as she was.” Crushing fully against him, Gabriyel closed his eyes. He calmed his breath for a moment, then returned to his leisurely strokes. “Even thinking of her breathless pleas pushes my body so close to climax I can hardly stand it.” Lorren nodded, remembering the plaintive sound of her voice, the desperation in her eyes, the sweet slickness of her sex.
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As if sensing his need, Gabriyel lowered his hands to Lorren’s cock, mimicking with his hands the pace he set with his hips. His hands were massive and hot, slick with their combined sweat. He relented for a moment, and Lorren almost screamed in frustration, but he was only fumbling to find the lube that had rolled under the bed. Holding the tube up and waggling his brows, Gabriyel poured a generous dollop into his hands, rubbed them together, then gripped Lorren’s aching prick. Frictionless, his hands encompassed his length, each stroke riding him toward that blissful moment where everything in the world disappeared. “Look at me.” Blinking slowly, Lorren met his intense gaze. Sky-blue darkened under lowered brows, his focus unrelenting, his passion unrestricted. “I want to watch you.” He thrust so hard Lorren had to struggle to keep himself from hitting the wall. “I want to watch you take everything I have to give.” In the back of Lorren’s mind, Errion called with a singsong voice be careful what you wish for, because you just might get it. Earlier he’d wanted Gabriyel aggressive and violent, and he’d built him up to that snarling beast he wanted to see rutting between his legs. Holding himself firmly against the wall, Lorren tightened his buttocks and lifted his legs up until he rested his feet against Gabriyel’s powerful shoulders. Completely at his mercy, all Lorren could do was hang on as Gabriyel thrust his prick deep and stroked his cock with his skilled hands. Looking up the length of his sweaty body, Lorren watched Gabriyel’s calm exterior crumble beneath the needs he’d tried so hard to keep at bay—the urge to control, to dominate, to expend everything in seeking release. And when that release came, Gabriyel lowered his head, growling through his gritted teeth as he forced Lorren to climax with him. Every muscle in both their bodies tightened. When they erupted, the tension released, causing Gabriyel to slump forward. Breathlessly, he lay atop Lorren, his gasps matching his. Lowering his legs as Gabriyel removed his hands allowed them to press fully together. Satisfied and replete, Gabriyel balanced his weight on his elbows, allowing them to kiss as they clung together. For a long time they lay entwined, neither one of them moving, even when they heard the men working at the lock. They didn’t let go of each other until the guards forcefully separated them. The haunted look in Gabriyel’s eyes as they dragged him away would be with Lorren for the rest of his life.
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Chapter Twenty-Four
Errion was escorting Farjika across the parlor when something slammed into his side, knocked him off his feet and smashed his head against the floor. If not for the thick carpet, he would have been out cold, perhaps even seriously brain damaged. As it was, he was just as dizzy as a top and baffled by his sudden down-facing position. Without any idea of what was going on, Errion felt someone truss him up, then yank him to his feet. A dozen men, whom he recognized as Farjika’s guards, surrounded him. Errion had fantasies where hulking men encircled him with lust in their eyes, but this wasn’t quite what he’d envisioned. They were looking at him as if tearing him limb from limb would be a great way to spend what remained of the evening. Whipping his head this way and that, Errion didn’t see Farjika. He honestly didn’t think she’d called them for help. A chilling fear iced all the glowy warmth he’d been feeling since he’d bonded to her and Gabriyel. Against a softly sighed expletive, Errion closed his eyes, picturing what he and Farjika would have looked like to her guards. When they’d entered the parlor, he’d been taking a naked Farjika to the bathroom to clean up her bloody nose. He was dressed, but only in pants, and passion marks covered both of them from all the evening’s encounters. To an outsider, it would look like Errion had hurt Farjika and forced her to do all manner of unsavory acts. He opened his mouth to defend himself, but they hadn’t accused him of anything. Yet. Remembering what his barrister always cautioned—“Speak not without my permission”—Errion closed his mouth. He considered calling for his robots, but he realized they would have been decommissioned prior to the raid. Every robot they made had to have such a device implanted, or criminals could simply surround themselves with inhumanly strong and fairly indestructible metal bodyguards. Even though all the men around him were from Farjika’s planet, there had to be a liaison from Avalith. Puffed up and full of himself, Lorren’s father emerged through the pack of bulky men. Errion should have been surprised to see him, but he wasn’t. After all this time, Lorren’s father had finally found a way to get them into trouble. “Where is Lorren?” Errion lifted his brows as if the question was completely beyond his understanding. “Who?” That classic little moue of disgust twisted his features. “I can’t wait to see his face when I tell him that both of you are being arrested.”
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Errion knew Lorren’s father would walk through fire to see Lorren punished. In all his life, Errion had never met a man who despised his son as much as Master D’Buren loathed Lorren. “Arrested?” Errion laughed. “What for this time?” “Abducting the daughter of an empress is considered high treason.” He delivered the news with his hands holding the lapels of his gut-straining jacket. His poor tailor simply couldn’t keep up with the man’s ever-expanding belly. “We didn’t abduct Farjika. She came here of her own free will.” Lowering his voice, Errion quipped, “And she came many, many times.” “You are a disgusting deviant.” He spit at his face but missed when Errion swiveled sideways, which caused the man behind him to yank on his bonds. “Whatever Lorren saw in you is baffling.” “He saw himself in me. And I mean that in both literal and figurative terms.” Once Master D’Buren untangled his verbal barb, he shook his head and expelled one of his dismissive little sighs. “Finally, after all this time, you will be punished for your perversions.” Brushing a piece of non-existent lint off his sleeve, he faced Errion with haughty superiority. “What kind of brutal degenerate abducts and rapes an innocent young woman? Why, she’s barely of legal age!” Lorren’s father had levied all kinds of outrageous charges at them but never one this absurd. Errion edged his tone with ice. “If anyone here has a penchant for young girls, I would say that would be the man who married the girl intended for his son.” Errion wished he could capture the look of shame that washed across Master D’Buren’s arrogant face. In a heartbeat, he returned to his typical posture of disdain. “As if my son could have been a man to Shyla.” “Lorren would never pluck fruit that wasn’t ripe.” Digging his big toe into the carpet, Errion smiled wickedly. “But I guess when you get old and your dick is flabby, it takes a raw one to fire up the juice.” Watching him struggle to maintain his dignity was mighty fun and likely the last amusement he would have for a while. “Where is Lorren?” “Your son isn’t here.” “He’s only my son by accident.” “He’ll be thrilled to hear it.” Errion sighed. “But back to the matter at hand. You know we didn’t rape her.” Presuming that the guards didn’t understand anything they said, Master D’Buren leaned close enough for Errion to smell the brandy on his breath. “I know that, and you know that, but even if the girl says that, her father is still going to crush you two like the vermin you are.” He glanced down the hallway, presumably in the direction they’d taken Farjika. “She was found naked, her nose bloody, restraint marks all over her body…” He shrugged, lifting his bulk up high before dropping it so heavily Errion swore he
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heard the man’s knees scream in protest. “I think no matter what she says, you two will finally have your comeuppance.” Errion let the information sink in. “What is it, exactly, that bothers you about us?” Not that the answer mattered so much right now, but it mattered to Lorren, and Errion would be honored to provide him with the answer to that most baffling question. “What really bothers you about our relationship?” “You don’t have a relationship; you have an abomination.” “Because he likes to put his dick in me, or that he likes my dick in him?” Honestly perplexed, Errion had pondered the question many times. Oftentimes he and Lorren would consider various answers in the aftermath of mind-blowing sex that left them pleasantly exhausted. “You’re sick.” “For wanting to put my dick in your son? You like to put yours in little girls, so who’s to say—” The guard holding him saw the fist coming and flung Errion bodily to the side as he palmed the blow. Muttering something in his native tongue, the guard pushed Master D’Buren away. Flustered, Lorren’s father took great care with his clothing, touching himself everywhere to ensure he was still properly dressed and perfectly presentable. With a shaking hand, he slicked back his surgically enhanced full head of hair. “Looks like they want me to keep my face pretty.” Errion tossed back his hair, letting it artfully tumble back and partially obscure his gaze. “For now.” Turning his back, Master D’Buren strode over to the head guard, who had just returned with a group of men. They spoke slowly, using a digital interpreter, rarely used because of their frequent and potentially dangerous errors. Both Master D’Buren and the head guard darted glances at him, but Errion refused to stand chagrined like a naughty schoolboy who’d been dragged before the headmaster. Errion hadn’t done anything wrong. Well, nothing too terribly wrong. On second thought, he realized that but for his holding the images over Farjika’s head, none of this would have happened. If anyone should be punished, it should be him. However, telling this to Lorren’s homophobic father wouldn’t help matters in the slightest. All Errion could hope for was an opportunity to throw himself at Farjika’s father’s feet and beg for Lorren’s release and mercy for himself. Errion called for his commbot, but it wouldn’t respond. He frowned. “I’m allowed a call to my barrister.” Just before he disappeared down the hall with the head guard, Master D’Buren tossed back over his shoulder, “You’re not going to need one where you’re going. The Diolans handle legal matters quite differently than we do.”
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Closing his eyes, Errion took the statement exactly as intended: a clear and deliberate threat. He wasn’t about to tell them where Lorren was, but eventually, they would discover him and Gabriyel in the prison. Most likely, it would be the last place they’d even think to look. The only other thing Errion could do to delay the inevitable was to refuse to give them the key. So far, the guard holding him hadn’t bothered to search him. In his front pocket, the key felt unnaturally heavy. But the question about how and why they were here weighed far more heavily on his mind: who had called for Farjika’s guards?
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Chapter Twenty-Five
Surrounded by several maids, Farjika wasn’t forced but rather compelled to bathe and dress under the watchful eye of several burly guards. These were not the guards that had accompanied her on her mission to Avalith; her father newly sent these men. Under his orders, they refused to answer her questions or follow her commands. All she’d been able to ascertain was that when she didn’t follow her strict check-in schedule, and the captain of her guard, Gabriyel, had disappeared, her father panicked. Fearing for her safety, he sent a veritable armada of troops to Avalith to retrieve her. Terrified of an interstellar incident, the governing body of Avalith charged her diplomatic liaison, Master D’Buren, with the task of locating her. After her display at his charity ball, she didn’t think it was difficult for him to determine where she might be. Given the combative nature of the relationship between Lorren and his father, one she didn’t know the details of, she couldn’t imagine how this would hurt Lorren. She completed her ablutions as slowly as possible so that she could try to think of a way out of this mess. Through it all, she felt Gabriyel and Lorren fighting in the cell below. Their antagonism clashed power in her body. She knew when they’d stopped, because her headache lessened and her nose stopped bleeding. After awhile of strange conflicting energies swirling within, she knew when the tide had turned and the two strong men had embraced each other, because she felt their energies resonate at the same pitch. Their rough passion stirred her blood, wetted her passage and caused her to waver on her feet. In the next room, Errion stood dealing with Lorren’s father. If she could get him away from them, he could soothe her sudden need. But that was impossible. Touching his mind, she felt Errion’s pride at tormenting the elder D’Buren but also his anguish for his actions placing all the events in motion. She tried to console him, but the new and frightening demands of her body held her in thrall. Regardless of everything they’d done over the course of the evening, Farjika needed another release, and she needed it soon. Unwillingly she had siphoned off some of Lorren’s and Gabriyel’s energy. She needed to discharge the excess. Farjika leaned against the bathroom wall, her hand over her face as she ordered the maids and guards out so that she could use the basin. One guard ensured there was no way in or out of the room but for the main door, then left her alone.
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Turning her back on the wall, pressing against the textured purple surface, she closed her eyes and lifted her dress. Sliding her panties down, she smoothed her fingers across her dripping sex. Her own hand and mind weren’t enough, so she compelled Errion’s attention, as he was the closest to her. Willingly, he infiltrated her thoughts when he sensed the frantic nature of her need. “I have never met a more insatiable woman.” Even though he was in the next room, she could see his wicked smirk and his flashing green eyes below the shaggy ends of his glittering blond hair. Quietly she chuckled. “It’s not my fault.” In her mind’s eye, Errion dropped to his knees between her trembling thighs. Her fingers took the place of his actual tongue, swirling over her clit, slipping up into her passage. “You taste like the sweetest brandy-soaked baru on the entire planet.” Lost in pleasure, Farjika cupped his face with her hands, watching him as he flicked his tongue over her clit, his eyes intense, his fingers big, wide and plunging into her dripping core. Farjika came so hard she had to turn her head to the side and bite the towels hanging there to stifle her scream. Below her fingertips, her clit quivered as her cunt gushed, soaking her panties beyond repair. “They will know what you were doing in here.” Errion looked up from the floor. “Unless you tell them that instead of climaxing all over them, you wet your tiny little panties that reek of your musk.” Farjika shook her head. “Perhaps I’ll use them to bond to another man. One whiff and I think I can--” “Don’t you dare add another man to this already packed mess!” Errion’s plea reverberated in her head. “I wasn’t serious.” With a sigh, Errion released from her mind with a final caution. “I think Gabriyel is going to try to take all the blame. I’m getting a strange feeling from below, and I don’t mean in my trousers.” After a chuckle, she felt what Errion was talking about. A note of finality, of determined selfsacrifice, infused her mind, and the energy signature belonged to Gabriyel. The last thing she would allow was Gabriyel to throw himself into the fire of her father’s fury. Setting herself to rights, disposing of the soaked panties by burying them in the trash, she flushed the basin and opened the door. “Where is the captain of your guard?” The lesser soldier posed the question to her as soon as the door cracked open. Dismissing him with a lift of her chin, Farjika stepped forward. To her shock, he placed his calloused hand against her upper chest, the edges of his palm pressing against her breasts. Flaring nostrils filled with her scent as his hand grasped her waist. Gripping her hips, he yanked her to him, rubbing his stiff prick against her belly. Shocked and frightened, Farjika overreacted by jamming the palm of her hand to his face, bashing his nose up toward his brain. Screaming, he flailed his arms as he flinched back. Several other guards stepped
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forward, grabbing him before he could try to touch her again. Wisely, she kept her distance from all of them. Apparently, the scent of her climax clung to her. Any man who came close wouldn’t be able to resist. When two approached her, she lifted her hand. “Don’t come any closer.” She didn’t want to enthrall another man to her. She didn’t think she or the other three could handle one more. Getting Gabriyel and Lorren to merge had been difficult enough. “There is something wrong with me, a sickness, that made him touch me.” Puzzled, they all stood at a distance considering her and what she said. “Your father demands your return.” “I am willing to go peacefully, but I will not be touched. Nor will I allow any of the prisoners to be harmed.” Bowing, the guard informed the others. Farjika returned to the bathroom and washed again. This time she found one of Lorren’s colognes and splashed it liberally over her body. The masculine scent smelled good on him but strange on her. Still, it had the desired effect. When the guards came close, the scent repelled them away. She smelled wrong to them now, and that was just what she wanted. Eventually they extricated Lorren and Gabriyel from the cell, dressed them, bound them and then escorted them to the skip waiting on the grounds. Heedless of the damage, her new captain, a man named Roland, had destroyed a good portion of the garden with his landing. With a final glance back, she entered the skip, knowing in her heart that she’d never see Avalith again.
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Chapter Twenty-Six
Gabriyel sat on another prison bed. This one was bigger, more comfortable and far cleaner than the one on Avalith. His cell consisted of a cot, a basin, and surprisingly, a shower. It dispensed cold water at a bare trickle, but at least he’d been able to wash himself after his encounter with Lorren. Reaching out with his mind, he tried again to connect to any of the other three but failed. He had no idea how they were or where they were. All he knew was that he had done his best to convince them to let him take the blame. Since he was going to die anyway, it didn’t make sense for all three of them to perish. “Someone has to survive for Farjika. If her father can expend his wrath on me, you will escape relatively unscathed. Once he recognizes your positions, he will allow Farjika to select you as consorts.” Even though Errion hadn’t been in the room, Gabriyel saw him shake his head. In his mind, Errion said, “Who’s to say that Farjika won’t be able to convince him that she wants all of us? Don’t be so quick to martyr yourself, my friend. Have a little faith.” Faith was something that Gabriyel had lost the moment he’d violated Farjika. He loved her, but he’d done the wrong thing. He hadn’t protected her. That was something her father couldn’t forgive. Drahka was a warrior with a strong sense of duty. He would never excuse Gabriyel for failing his orders. In the quiet honesty of his own soul, Gabriyel couldn’t forgive himself either. What he’d said to Lorren had been true; he didn’t regret what he’d done, but that didn’t make it right either. Convinced that Gabriyel would commit suicide, Roland had him and his cell stripped of all fabrics. He’d been allowed only a small towel with which to dry his body. As soon as he finished with his shower, they took that away too. Shivering as he sat on the bed, Gabriyel was certain that Roland had also lowered the temperature in his cell. This prison was a bit different in that bars did not make up the front wall. Enclosed by gray metal on all six sides, Gabriyel felt a little claustrophobic. A camera and a communication unit above the door allowed his jailer to look in on him at any moment. Not that he was giving them anything to look at. Calmly, he sat and awaited his fate. Twice Roland had tried to engage him in conversation, but Gabriyel refused to answer, no matter how vile he became. It was the verbal equivalent of turning his back on him. Refusing to fall for his baiting infuriated him. Gabriyel knew that Roland wanted to enter his cell and pummel him, but Drahka’s orders were clear—all the prisoners were to be taken to Diola unharmed. Gabriyel figured Drahka wanted to reserve the pleasure of beating him bloody himself. Even though Drahka was twice his age, the man was
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still a formidable opponent. Gabriyel was considered large amongst the men of Diola, but Drahka was bigger. And he would have the power of righteous anger on his side. Gabriyel decided he wouldn’t even defend himself. He’d let her father pound away at him. Perhaps it would make the crushing by the stones go faster. In a surprisingly kind manner, Lorren had stepped forward to take the blame. “It was my fault you did what you did. I made you.” “You made me do what I wanted to do.” “Still, if I hadn’t have pushed, none of this would have happened.” While Gabriyel appreciated his attempt to take the blame, his conscience would not allow him such an escape. Besides, all of this was academic anyway. Gabriyel already knew that Lorren and Errion would not be executed. Drahka did not want to create such a vile image among the galactic community by killing two men from a peaceful world. But someone had to pay for the abduction and violation of the man’s daughter. Gabriyel was the perfect person to punish. The other guards who had failed to protect Farjika did so on his orders. They acted in the right by following the commands of their superior. Gabriyel shouldered all the responsibility. “I can’t believe you are so eager to throw everything away.” Her voice catapulted him to his feet. He wasn’t hearing her in his mind but over the communication unit. When the door slid open and she entered, he was convinced he was hallucinating. Wrapped in the gleaming white robe of an acolyte, Farjika closed the door behind her. “I’m here to give you absolution.” One brow rose high and her smirk reminded him of Errion. Despite his melancholy feelings, he smiled. “Somehow I cannot see you as a devotee of the gods.” He glanced up at the camera over the door. “And speaking of seeing.” She followed his gaze. “I deactivated it.” Arms outstretched, she rushed to embrace him, but he shook his head and stepped back. “Do not make a bad situation worse.” “You have no idea what I went through to get in here.” Below the billowing white hood, her eyes misted over. “I’m willing to do anything to be with you, yet you can’t wait to throw your life away.” “Farjika, be reasonable. Your father will never forgive me. But if I throw myself upon his mercy and give him a target for his justifiable rage, you can be with Lorren and Errion.” It was the best possible outcome, but she refused to see reason. Her eyes met his with a stunned expression that broke his heart. “I thought you were my hero.” Not unkindly, he laughed. “I’m standing naked in a cell and you think I’m a hero?” She stepped forward. He would have backed away, but there was nowhere for him to go. Placing her hand over his heart, she whispered, “You’re not my hero because of how you look, or where you are, but
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Dark Empress
because of who you are.” Ernest eyes met his. “Even this, your willingness to take on all the blame, is heroic.” She paused for a heartbeat. “Asinine, but heroic nonetheless.” He offered a bemused smile and placed his hand over hers. Her hand was so warm, her skin soft. This close he smelled her lust below the male cologne she’d tried to disguise that luscious scent with. “What I am is a failure.” Those were almost the exact words that Roland had used to taunt him. Sighing, Gabriyel released her and sat on the bed. “I failed as your captain, as a guard.” “You said that you loved me.” He couldn’t meet her gaze. “I do.” He could never convey to her how much he loved her. To give her some type of peace in her life, he was willing to sacrifice himself so she could be with Lorren and Errion. “Then show me.” “How?” “Fight for me. Face my father with your head held high. Tell him you had no choice, that Lorren—” “But I did have a choice.” He stood and grasped her shoulders, marveling at the silky feel of the robe against her skin. “I could have fought then, and I didn’t.” “You did what I begged you to do. If you hadn’t, the energy would have killed me.” “We don’t know that.” “I know that.” The urge to crush her against his chest and kiss her grew unbearable. “If you won’t fight for me, then fight for our child.” His breath caught. Lowering his gaze to her belly, he shook his head. This was a trick to make him do what she wanted. “You couldn’t know, not yet. I’m not a fool. I know it’s far too soon to tell.” When his gaze met hers, he saw the truth as he felt it in her mind and her energy. “Oh gods.” Dropping to his knees, he wrapped his arms around her waist, holding his face to the spot just below her belly button. This close he could feel the energy shifting, swirling protectively around the child growing within. Gabriyel prayed to every god that he could think of to protect his child. He didn’t have to ask how she knew the babe was his. Once he touched the energy signature, he knew without a doubt. Farjika stroked her fingers through his hair. “I need you to fight, Gabriyel. Not just for me, not just for our son, but for all of us.” Cupping his chin, she urged him to look up. “We need each other. I don’t know why this happened, but I know there’s a reason.” Carefully she pulled him to his feet. “All of us must be together to protect him, to teach him.” Gabriyel felt that truth right down to his bones. But a far more terrifying truth hit him. “You can’t tell your father.” “What?” “It won’t make him change his mind. It will make things worse.” Farjika shook her head. “It will make him see—”
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“That you carry an illegitimate son of a slave.” Her face blanched. “I’m not your consort. Even if your father relents and forgives me, our son will never be legitimate. It wouldn’t surprise me if he pressured you to get rid—” “Don’t say it!” She turned away from him, wrapping her arms around herself. “My father isn’t a monster. He would never hurt a child.” “If our son poses a risk to the empire, Drahka might not have any choice.” Clearly, Farjika had thought their child was her secret weapon, but now she realized the potential liability. Usually a child was a blessed event, but for a woman destined to become the empress, her children’s origins were thoroughly and painstakingly scrutinized. This time when she sought his embrace, he didn’t turn away. Wrapping her up into his arms, he wished he could make it all disappear: all her fear, her worry, her pain. He wanted to be what she wanted of him, to be her hero, to save the day. But he didn’t see how that was possible. What could he say or do to sway her father? He had nothing to offer Farjika other than himself. In the midst of their shared tragedy, her lips found his, hungry and desperate for comfort, which he gave even though the solace was fleeting. Parting her robe revealed that she wore nothing below. He cupped one breast, then the other, loving the weight and the feel of such perfectly formed flesh against his palms. To have her once was a great boon, but twice was surely greedy. Reverently, he laid her down upon the bed, his hands and lips determined to touch all of her. He thought Lorren would be his last lover, but the gods were kind and allowed him a final night with the mother of his child. The bed was small, but they didn’t mind as they laughed and maneuvered together, her helping him kneel between her thighs. Slick, the lips of her sex were wet with need, and he plunged his tongue within, loving her taste, branding it forever upon himself. Sweet and responsive, she moaned and writhed below him, her hands gently guiding his head as her energy pulsed with his. With his lips, teeth and tongue, he worshiped her body, coaxing her climax to rise higher until the energy reached a certain pitch. At that moment, he rose up and plunged his cock within, watching her eyes widen and her arms fly up to embrace him. With a flick of his pubic bone against her body, she came, her cunt gripping around his shaft, clinging as her legs embraced his hips. He waited for the last quivers to fade away before he began to move. Balanced above her on his elbows, he peered down into her face, loving the way her lips parted as she gasped when he went fully deep. Each time he slid back, she drew in a breath, her anticipation of the next plunge almost palpable.
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Hot and smooth, her calves wrapped around his hairy legs, warming him against the cold air. His chill fled as he continued his measured thrusts, loving the way her body gave below his. She was soft where he was hard. The contrast of his massive body above her smaller one filled him with masculine pride. The beast was there, as it always was, but sensing their terrible pain, it had retreated, allowing them a peaceful interlude without his frantic clamors for dominance. Touching the astle robe below her, he smiled. “I always pictured you below me on astle bedding.” “White?” she asked playfully. “Crimson. No color brings out your stunning beauty better.” Her hands slid up his arms, gripping the muscles that held him in solid determination over her form. When she reached his shoulders, she sighed and lifted up to kiss him, her hands merging at the back of his neck, pulling so she could plunder his mouth with her tongue. He tasted her tears and kissed them away, shushing her sobs with soft words whispered in her ear. He didn’t ask why she was crying, because he knew. Like him, she feared this was the last time for them, and the thought broke her heart. “Don’t think about tomorrow. Only think about now, this moment. Be here with me.” He looked right into her eyes, and she determinedly looked up at him. “No one can ever take this moment away from us.” She nodded, catching his rhythm, working her body in motion with his. Slowly the energy built, pushing against their skin, seeking that moment of merging. Denying the power took tremendous effort, but Gabriyel was determined to make this moment count. He wanted to love her with his body, not just mate with her to seek climax. Right now, he didn’t care if he never came. Having her below him, her eyes shining and her breath hot against his skin, her hands delicately gripping him, holding him as if she would never let go, was better than any orgasm he’d ever known. But like all good things, the moment came to an end. Nearing the crest, she wrapped her body around his. Her sleek thighs tightened against his waist, her calves rode up until she pressed them against his buttocks, urging him on, compelling him to thrust deeper with each stroke. Rocking harder into her, his leisurely pace increasing, his body tensed, the energy reached the peak, and with one hard thrust, he came. The intensity of his climax rendered him blind as he clung to her, kissing her lips, her face, her neck. All he was in that shining moment was a man in love entwined with the woman who had forever captured his soul. He called out to the gods as the jetting tide burned with energy. All the power he’d built up sought the only outlet—right through the tip of his penis. Farjika took the influx with a strangled cry. To stifle her howls, she bit down on his shoulder as she clamped her entire body so tightly around him he almost couldn’t breathe. Flowing back and forth, the energy found the balance it sought and released them from torment as the last of their shudders faded away. “I feel different,” Farjika said.
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Her voice sound faint, and he lifted up, afraid that he’d crushed her. Assessing his own body, he too felt…different. He couldn’t pinpoint any specifics. All he knew was that something had changed. Something basic and fundamental about him was completely different, but he had no idea what.
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Chapter Twenty-Seven
Lorren sighed as he looked about his prison. Glistening gray metal walls covered with interesting artworks were the perfect backdrop to the sleek chrome furniture, bolted to the floor, of course, but hardly pedestrian. For a prison, it had more amenities than most homes on Avalith. Apparently, he and Errion were in custody, but they were not to be treated as hardened criminals. According to the envoy presented to him, Lorren would be afforded every convenience except, of course, his freedom. The decorative door was firmly locked. Two burly guards stood at attention outside his room. Should he manage to open the door, the muscle-bound men would kindly push him right back inside. The envoy said they would appoint him a protocol liaison, their version of a barrister, once he reached Diola. While at the palace, he, like Errion, would be kept in isolation, but not in a prison cell. Frankly, it all sounded no worse than a forced vacation. All his lands, accounts, and holdings would reside in trust until his return. Lorren would lose nothing but time. Well, that and probably the woman of his dreams. Knowing that in all probability he would lose Farjika ate at Lorren. If he could go back in time, he wondered if he would do things any differently. Somehow, he didn’t think he would, even knowing the outcome. Everything that had happened had happened for a reason. The connection he felt with his three lovers was unlike anything he’d known before. The bond left him with a secure inner peace. All those feelings of meaninglessness that had pushed him for turns were gone. In the strangest way, he felt fulfilled. Content even. But he knew if they didn’t solve this dilemma with Farjika’s father, his despair would return. Lorren shivered. He couldn’t stand to go back to that emptiness that gnawed at his soul. The level of luxury that surrounded him would have infuriated his father. Master D’Buren would have wanted him in chains, wallowing in filth, forced to eat food of dubious origins as larger prisoners bandied him about like a toy. Sighing, Lorren plucked an oddly textured fruit from a decorative bowl. He sat on the couch, sniffing at the item, trying to determine what it was. It smelled good, spicy and pungent. Realizing he wasn’t hungry, he tossed it back into the bowl and stood. What Gabriyel said earlier evidently was true. He and Errion would not really be punished. They would get a slap to the face, a time away from home, all as a token chastisement to caution others. Abducting and defiling the daughter of the empress was a vile crime, but Gabriyel would suffer the public punishment, while he and Errion would be mildly inconvenienced. Without even touching the man’s mind, Lorren knew Gabriyel’s cell was not so richly appointed. Whether Lorren liked it or not, Gabriyel would be
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held to task for everything that had happened to Farjika, when he and Errion were the real perpetrators. Letting another man suffer, or worse, be executed for his crimes, was appalling. Lorren paced across the thickest carpet he’d ever felt below his bare feet. There had to be a way to save him. Without Gabriyel, their quaternity was doomed. Oddly, Lorren had never been faced with a crushing moral issue. All his life he’d done what he wanted when he wanted with little repercussion. This pricked his conscience. How ironic that when he was finally held to task for his wrongdoing, another man would pay. Feeling dirty inside and out, Lorren stripped off his clothing and headed toward what they called a basin. Again, everything he could ever need filled the bathroom. Fluffy towels, a variety of personal products… There were even shaving devices to whisk hair off any part of his body. To punish himself, he took the coldest shower he could, washed with the harshest soap, and didn’t bother to shave. How this would help, he didn’t know, but a little suffering eased that nagging squeal from his rusty conscience. Lorren could remember only one time of deep regret. When the domination scene had gone wrong and his brutal lashing had drawn blood. The woman assured him she was fine, even begged Errion repeatedly for an encore, but Lorren refused because he feared what the beast inside him was capable of. Never had he deliberately injured another. All the rough-and-tumble sex between him and Errion was mutual. Repeatedly throughout their encounters, they checked in with each other to ensure they didn’t go too far. But this, this had gone beyond too far. This was such a mess he didn’t know where to start cleaning it up. Perhaps if he simply explained matters to Farjika’s father, he could repair all the damage. Although, telling a man what he’d done to his daughter might make things far worse for all of them. What man wanted to hear those types of things done to his child? Lorren shook his head, flinging water as he did so. There had to be a better way. Still, he had to speak up. He couldn’t let Gabriyel take the fall for all of them. He heard the whisk of metal against metal as the main door slid open. Wrapping a snug gray towel around his hips, he entered the central room, expecting to see the stoop-shouldered envoy. Instead, someone swaddled head to toe in a gleaming white robe stood in the center of the room. “I’ve come to offer you absolution.” Lorren almost leapt out of his skin. Farjika’s voice touched so deep into him, it was as if she stroked his soul. Without hesitation, he rushed to her, spun her around, and planted a possessive kiss on her luscious berry lips. He pushed back her hood to run his hands through her hair, loving the way the silky strands slipped through his fingers. Her hair was still slightly damp, and he knew she’d showered shortly before she arrived. Hungrily, she kissed him back, her tongue sliding wantonly against his as she reached for his towel. When the damn thing caught on his rising erection, he winced. Yanking the towel away with a flourish, he tossed it aside, then pressed himself against her.
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Slick fabric carried the heat of her body to his, warming him from his cold shower. When she shimmied, his cock eagerly sought the entrance of her robe. With a hand to his chest, she stepped back. Holding his gaze, she opened her robe and let it glide to the floor. His eyes ate her up. Dressed she was a goddess, but nudity pushed her beyond divine and into something that he could not name. “What is higher than a goddess?” he asked, tracing his finger around her hardening nipple. “I do not know.” She arched her back, displaying her perfect breasts to him. “Does it matter?” He shook his head, pulled her to him, and buried his cock between her thighs. Her heat engulfed him as he slid against her smooth flesh. Longing to bury himself inside, he also wanted to wait, to build up to that moment until they were both crazed with desire. A hundred questions poured through his mind—how she had gotten in here, how the others were, what plan did she have, if any. But none of them came out of his mouth. He was too grateful to have her in his arms again to pelt her with questions that she could answer later. Casting his gaze about for the bed, he found a sleekly designed mattress covered with dozens of puffy pillows. He lifted her into his arms, carried her to it and then gently settled her against the cool gray. Her black eyes and hair contrasted beautifully as her caramel skin offered a respite from the chill. Lying beside her, he pulled her into his arms, unable to speak as he kissed her entire body from head to toe. He didn’t want to miss anything, as he feared this would be his last time with her. Rolling her to her belly, he kissed her back, then grabbed her spectacular buttocks firmly in his hands. When he lifted and parted them, she gave a shocked sigh as he breathed hotly against her puckered flesh. “Take me there.” Just the thought of plunging his prick between the glorious mounds of her bottom had his cock so hard it hurt. He left her on the bed for a moment, searching through the bathroom for something to ease his way. When he found a suitable lube, he returned to the bed, pleased to see that Farjika had plumped several pillows below her hips, lifting her bottom to a perfect height. Draping her legs on either side of his, he knelt behind her, lowered his face and teased his tongue around the sensitive skin of her bottom. Clean flesh, lightly perfumed by soap, encouraged him to flick his tongue all along the cleft. Stunned surprise and wanton encouragement filled her moans. Knowing that she had never been touched in such a way heightened his pleasure. Errion had teased the tip of his prick to her, but he’d not tongued that sweet, dark passage. Lorren spread her cheeks wider, loving the way his paler hands looked against her rounded bottom, the way she quivered in anticipation. Circling his tongue around and around had her squirming against the pillows. When he glanced down, he saw she’d maneuvered her hand between her legs to tease her clit in rhythm with his movements.
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Energy gathered inside his body, each cell filling up to bursting as he continued slipping his tongue against her, pressing firmly against that unyielding passage. When he felt her need pushing against his brain with almost physical force, he knew she was ready. Carefully covering his cock with slick lube, he worked the fingers of his left hand against her, slipping some inside that tight ring. He watched her carefully for any sign of discomfort, but she looked back over her shoulder with nothing but pleasure on her face. He understood then what she needed from him. In her mind’s eye, he saw her encounter with Gabriyel. He saw and felt how he’d filled her cunny to bursting. Too, Lorren saw what she would do next with Errion. All in a circle, all completing the pieces of a puzzle that none of them could see in full, not yet, but Lorren knew his part. Pressing the tip of his cock to her caused her to moan and arch back, lifting up from the pillows. The presentation of her faultless bottom in such a way enthralled him. Cupping her perfectly formed cheeks in his hands, he eased his way forward, his breath so controlled his chest hurt. With a shove, he buried the tip within, causing both of them to groan. Sinfully snug, the sphincter of her ass crushed his shaft, holding the bulbous head firmly within as if she would never free him. Lorren smoothed his hands over her back, soothing her, letting her grow accustomed to the feel of him. Her gripping tightness felt wickedly good. Strangely, the beast hung back, watching with eager anticipation and not his usual screaming needs. Bit by bit he pressed forward, relaxing Farjika as best he could, but he went only so far before she tightened up so firmly he couldn’t move forward. Not that he wanted or needed to. It wasn’t what he was doing that felt so impossibly delicious—it was the way she absolutely trusted him not to hurt her. Farjika gave herself to him completely. Lorren had never been so enmeshed with another, not even Errion, not quite like this, not with this curious electricity running through his veins, building into something so powerful he would not be able to contain it. Farjika rose up, angling her body to better take his cock, and he slipped halfway within. She pressed her back to his chest, begging him without words to wrap his arms around her, palm her breasts, and tease her nipples between fingers and thumbs. Rolling the buds slowly brought them to hardness. Replacing his hands with her own, she encouraged his hands to seek lower. Spanning across her tiny waist, he gripped the curve of her hips, holding her steady for a small push forward. Another incremental bit of him lodged inside. Her gasp was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. Turning her head, she kissed him, locking her lips to his, thrusting her tongue against his. Lower his fingertips went, teasing over her hairless mound, down to the puffy lips that hid her firm little clit. Working his right hand between those slick folds of flesh caused him to inadvertently thrust forward.
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A shocked gasp expelled from Farjika, but she grasped his arms, holding him, refusing to let him move back. “Don’t stop. We’re so close.” To what, he didn’t know, but he held steady, letting her rock her hips and draw him so slowly within he thought he would bellow from the madness of exercising every shred of restraint he possessed. Through the haze of lust and longing, the connection to her expanded, overtaking his awareness until they moved as one. His finger pressed harder against her clit as his strokes matched the movements of her hips. Rolling her body against his, she managed to take him entirely within, but he couldn’t thrust, not with the way she clamped around him. When she clenched and unclenched her muscles, her passage undulated against his cock, milking him, building up the power in his body until everything erupted from the tip of his cock. To him, his ejaculation felt like liquid fire bursting forth from his balls. She must have felt the burning heat, because she yanked a pillow to her face and screamed right into its puffy depths. If not for her quick thinking, the guards would have burst in, and they would be in even worse trouble than they were now. All Lorren could do was cling to her and wait for the power to equalize. Once the last of the spasms died away, she dropped the pillow, then eased down to the bed, taking him with her. For a long time they lay on their sides, entwined, his cock slowly withdrawing from her body. He didn’t speak and neither did she, but they both felt different. Lorren’s only concern was that Farjika knew this would happen, wanted this to occur, but she still had no idea what this new exchange of power would do to any of them.
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Chapter Twenty-Eight
Head in hand, Errion soaked in the tub. He thought the water would dampen the sound of his tears. Unfortunately, the metal walls of the bathroom only amplified the drops hitting the surface of the water. Worse, they echoed his gasping sobs. Once, when he was young, the elder D’Buren had caught him crying over the death of his pet and admonished him that big boys didn’t cry. Lorren’s father had smacked his face so hard the shock had stopped Errion’s tears in an instant. Errion had hated him from that day forward, because ever since he’d felt uncomfortable doing what was perfectly normal. Grief brought about tears. There was nothing shameful about crying. Then why oh why couldn’t he just let them come? Why was he sitting in the dark trying to hide his regret from not only himself but also the eyes of any jailer who might be watching? Errion told himself he just didn’t want to appear weak before an enemy, but that felt as hollow as he did. The Diolans weren’t much of a typical enemy to keep him incarcerated in such opulence. On the few occasions when he’d traveled, he’d stayed in rented rooms that were not this fine. Beautiful furniture, plush carpets, incredible works of art—everywhere he turned, he found function and beauty combined. An envoy had assured him that anything he needed would be provided to him. There were only two exceptions—he could not leave his room and he could not have any companionship. The stoop-shouldered man was quick to assure him that Lorren would be granted the same amenities. They would be able to see each other once they reached Diola. What the man couldn’t possibly know was how much Errion feared being alone, especially now when his feelings were in such a terrible jumble. When Errion asked after Gabriyel, the envoy turned away, dismissing him so sharply the insult cut deep. Errion did not ask about Farjika. He knew she would not be held in miserable conditions. She was the future empress, after all. Since she was the one he was accused of raping, they weren’t likely to tell him where she was or her condition anyway. His guilty conscience brought him right back to Gabriyel. That poor man who had done everything he could to save Farjika was going to end up taking the blame for all of them. “And here I sit bawling in the tub like a child.” But Errion honestly didn’t know what else to do. Everything he wanted, he got, usually with minimal effort. But now he couldn’t even see the people he’d fallen so deeply in love with. Admitting that he was in love with all of them had come as easy to him as admitting he preferred the color green. How strange that
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he and Lorren had never used those words with each other, but the feelings had been there all along. Now there were two more that Errion knew he didn’t want to be without. In their business relationship, Lorren was the problem solver. Errion turned his mind to creating new venues for their products or further enhancements of those products. However, if anything went wrong, like the malfunction of a run of butlers, who, without warning, spewed expletives, it was Lorren who backtracked the production and found the disgruntled employee responsible. Errion had laughed his ass off and brought one of them home to purposely provoke the swear fest. As he was playing with the robot, he realized that the program that caused the vile language could be used to translate languages as well. Within a quarter turn, their butlers came with an interpreter module. One far superior to the handheld model like the one Master D’Buren had been using at the manor. Just thinking of that overinflated windbag enraged Errion. How he’d delighted in causing his son harm. Given a choice between that and Errion’s absentee father, he’d take absence over abuse any day. Thinking of his father made him think of Farjika’s father, the reason why he was on a starship headed to an exotic planet he knew so little about. What kind of a man was Drahka? Clearly, he loved his daughter. He wouldn’t have risked creating a galactic incident did he not, but was he possessive of her, or simply overly protective? Would he listen to her, or would the way she’d been found close off his ears to any explanation? Putting himself in Drahka’s place, Errion considered how he would react if he discovered his young daughter naked, bloody and covered in restraint marks. Errion didn’t think he’d be favorable to hearing any kind of rationalization. Errion could just picture himself telling the man that yes, he tied his lovely daughter up and then his life-long companion proceeded to torment her until he forced the captain of her guard to fuck pure sexual energy out of her. Errion imagined he’d get about halfway through the explanation before Drahka’s fist decimated the structure of his face. Shivering, Errion stood, then stepped out of the bathwater that had grown cold. Twin wet footprints looked lonely on the charcoal gray bathmat. Over the course of his life, he’d dealt with a few enraged fathers. The experience was never pleasant. He imagined dealing with the father of a royal woman was going to be even less so. But he was determined to try. Errion refused to let Gabriyel take the blame. He vowed to do anything to keep their group intact. Because he knew, deep down to the most honest place in his heart, he couldn’t really be what he was destined to be without Farjika, Lorren and Gabriyel by his side. Drying himself quickly, Errion drained the tub, hung up the towel and slipped naked into bed. The sheets were amazingly soft and warmed his flesh instantly. He rolled to his side, embracing a pillow, undecided as to which of his lovers he should pretend it was. Since the bed had been covered with them before he brushed most off, he leapt out of bed, gathered several pillows and then arranged himself in the
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center of them. Pretending the puffy pillows were his companions wasn’t nearly as satisfying as having them with him, but the pretense did allow him to drift into a troubled sleep. Errion wasn’t sure what woke him, but he knew Farjika was standing by his bedside before she spoke. “I’ve come to offer you absolution.” She separated the edges of the white robe, pushed the hood back and let the fabric fall away. Spectacularly nude, she slipped under the covers. Without comment, she tossed the pillows out of the bed. She worked her way toward him until she was able to press her warm body against his. The familiarity of her scent and the feel of her flesh soothed him. When her arms came around him, he burst into tears. All the suppressed sorrow of his life spilled out in an uncontrollable display of grief. Consumed by sadness, he couldn’t stop the tide if he tried, so he didn’t, and Farjika didn’t berate him. She enfolded him, murmuring quietly as she kissed his neck and face, her hands rubbing over his back and shoulders. She allowed him the sheer indulgence to express what he’d never been comfortable sharing with anyone, not even Lorren. Everything poured out, all the hurt feelings he’d stuffed down so far that no one could ever see the real Errion. Not a soul knew the scared little boy who acted tough to hide a tender heart. Nor the frightened young man who used sex to get close to people because he couldn’t bear sharing genuine intimacy, then being cast aside. Or the man who hid behind disdain to cover up the fact that he loved so deeply he frightened himself. All this came tumbling out with his tears, and Farjika nodded, already knowing, consoling him for finally accepting who he really was. And she loved him. Not in spite of his realization or because of it. Farjika loved him for who he was: a man with a wicked mind, a sharp tongue and a huge heart that he’d kept carefully hidden away. Errion was a man as vulnerable and special as the rest of them. A man who recognized he was greater in the sum of their group than he was apart. “I never want to be alone again.” As the words tumbled out, he realized they might sound like he only wanted to be with them to avoid being alone, but Farjika understood what he meant. “I don’t want to be apart from any of you either.” Her lips found his, kissing away the last of his pain. Knowing that his face was a mess, he grabbed one of the multitudes of pillows, rubbed it across his face, blew his nose into it and tossed it off the bed. Her gentle laughter prompted him to quip, “That’s the biggest hanky I’ve ever used.” “They can supply you with a hundred more.” His explosive crying jag hadn’t changed anything and yet he felt better. In the strangest way, he felt stronger, more capable of facing the trials to come. In the semi-dark, he looked over at Farjika, her gaze steady on his, her skin luminous.
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He blinked rapidly to dispel the illusion, but she was still shimmering, ever so slightly, with a glittering golden light. When he stared hard, the luminosity vanished, but if he relaxed his eyes, the sparkles danced over the surface of her skin, especially around the area below her belly button. “It’s for him, isn’t it? The energy you’re taking from each of us.” She shrugged, spilling her hair over her shoulders. “I’m not sure. All I know is what I need.” With one hand, she pushed him to his back. “I had to release you from your grief first, to clean your energy, but I cannot wait any longer.” Straddling his hips, she pressed her mouth to his, kissing him as if this was the last kiss anyone in the known universe would ever share. Hot and hungry, she ate at his mouth, wiping away the ravages of despair and filling him with passion. A pure ardor undiluted by fear. Openly embracing her with all that he was, Errion let her energy flow into him without reservation and fully gave his energy back. Through the passage of their mouths, the energy met, melded and balanced. Pulling up with a stunned gasp of pleasure, she stared down at him, blinking in confusion and pride. “What?” By the look on her face, he’d done something right for a change, and he truly wanted to know what, since he did the correct thing so rarely. “I was able to connect our energies without accepting your climax into my body.” Errion’s brows lifted with surprise, then waggled suggestively. “So, the other guys couldn’t give it up without engaging Mr. Happy?” Playfully she gave his cock a little shake. “Don’t go getting a big head about it.” “Right. If it got too big, however would it fit into that perfect little mouth of yours?” He teased his finger across her lips, loving the way she puckered and kissed the tip of his finger before pulling his digit within. “Remember a long time ago when I told you that what Lorren didn’t have the guts to make you do, I would?” With his finger still in her mouth, she nodded, using the movement to slip his finger suggestively in and out. “You wicked woman.” She released his finger with a smile. “So, did you ever decide?” His uplifted brows asked the question. “Whether you’d come in my mouth or on my spectacular tits?” Wincing, he slapped his hand over his face, peering out between two fingers. “Did I really say that to you?” She tsked lightly. “You can be so vulgar.” She teased a finger across her lips, then slid it down to stroke across her breasts. “You dirty, dirty boy.” “Did it make you wet?”
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Nodding, she kissed her way down his chest. “Although you don’t need to force me, I am concerned.” Flicking her tongue over each nipple in turn, she bit down just hard enough to make him growl. “Concerned about what?” Rubbing her hands along the muscles of his chest and belly, she avoided direct contact with his now needy, greedy cock. “About living up to your exacting standards.” Errion laughed as he draped strands of her hair across his stomach. “My standards are amazingly low.” Her throaty chuckle vibrated his balls. “Gabriyel said you have the oral skills of a dran’greth.” Her rich voice wafted moist heat all along his groin. “Is that a compliment?” He offered no protest when she spread his legs wide and slipped a pillow below his bottom. “A dran’greth is a man who caters exclusively to other men.” She looked up at him. “I watched what you did to Gabriyel so that I could learn from an expert.” Keeping her eyes on him, she took the tip of his cock into her mouth but didn’t tighten her lips. Instead, she rolled her head around in a circle, causing the most sensitive areas at the tip of his prick to brush along her lips and tongue in a lazy, tentative way. Fingers gripping into the bed, he released a long breath of pleasure when she reversed the circle and went round and round the other direction. Unlike so many women, she didn’t immediately try to take him as deep as she could or suck so hard his eyes watered. She already knew the biggest secret: tease the head and do it wantonly while looking right into his eyes. While rolling him one way, then rolling the other, she cupped his balls into the palm of her hand, massaging them with her fingertips. As if none of this had held him enthralled, she did the most incredible thing—she hummed. Farjika didn’t just hum a note or a pleasure moan, she hummed a tune, some song that was slow and seductive, utterly entrancing. Errion could not count the number of times someone had performed this most intimate act upon him, but he’d never felt anything like what she made him feel. Normally an urge to grasp the back of the person’s head consumed him, but she was so compelling he didn’t dare do anything that would upset her seductive pace. He would have thought her a liar and been convinced she’d given a thousand suckjobs but for the truth he knew by his intimacy with her. Heaven help him, this was only the second time for her, but she was able to reach right into him, find what he enjoyed, then bring his greatest pleasure to life. His chest heaved as he dug his fingers and feet hard into the surface of the bed. While still massaging his balls with one hand, she used the back of her fingers from the other to press against the skin below them. Firmly she moved the flat back of her fingers and knuckles in the same circle she made with her mouth. The edge of her pinky knuckle pressed so close to the puckered skin of his bottom he breathlessly awaited full contact.
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Stars exploded in his vision. Every cell in his body vibrated to the tune that she purred. Sensing his impending climax, she held her head steady and sucked him within her mouth. Humming still, she flicked the tip of her tongue up and down the slit as fast as she could, fluttering his now pulsing flesh. Errion lowered his fist to his shaft, holding himself firmly for her as she continued to flutter the tip of her tongue over the sensitive skin just below his head. Slipping her hand down, she pressed the knuckle of her pinky against his anus and pushed, making him clench his butt cheeks together. He came so violently he literally curled up off the bed, holding on to her shoulder to steady himself as his other hand held his pumping cock to her mouth. Without hesitation, she drank from him, milking him until there was nothing left. Flopping back on the bed, he begged her up and into his arms where he clamped his mouth over hers, tasting himself on her. Rolling her over, he plunged his hand between her legs. Her bare sex was dripping wet. She was so aroused that a few well-placed flicks of his thumb brought her to climax and clamped her thighs around his hand. But he wouldn’t stop. Slipping his fingers inside her, he continued flicking his thumb until she came again. And again. When she collapsed on the bed, drained and exhausted from her long night, Errion settled beside her, pulled up the blankets and fell asleep, grateful that for tonight at least, he didn’t have to sleep alone.
She was gone by morning, but her nocturnal visit had served at least one purpose—he could now feel all of them. Before, they had been too far from one another to touch each other’s minds or share energy. Farjika had changed the bonding yet again. As soon as Errion woke, he felt Lorren, who like Farjika was pushing energy toward Gabriyel. Once Errion felt his plight, he sent his power too. The poor man was freezing in his cell. His jailer kept him bare and without any blankets, a sheet, not even a towel to protect him from the frigid air. When Gabriyel resisted their help, Errion told him to stop being a martyr. “I know you’re the big, bad hero, but right now, you need our help. Accept it.” Lorren’s laughter rang in his mind. “You never were one to mince words.” But what convinced him was Farjika’s simple, “Gabriyel, please.” She managed to infuse her mental voice with the same plaintive appeal she’d used on him as she hung helplessly from the ceiling. Reluctantly, Gabriyel gave in. Allowing them to push energy kept him warm and infuriated his jailer. Roland wanted Gabriyel to suffer, but he couldn’t do anything that would leave a mark, not when Drahka had given him specific orders to bring all the prisoners to Diola unharmed. All of them could practically hear the man licking his lips for when they landed. Roland would be able to abuse Gabriyel however he saw fit once he got him home. What Roland didn’t know was Farjika was determined to stop him. Errion felt a little bit sorry for the man; he had no idea the wrath that he could unleash by harming Farjika’s hero.
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While this was going on, Errion had bathed and dressed in a tailored suit of hunter green. Per the envoy’s instructions, he was ready and waiting when his door slid open. Several guards surrounded Lorren, who was dressed in brown, his wet hair slicked back, but strands rapidly fell across his brow as they dried. Errion stood for a moment, stunned to realize how handsome Lorren was. He felt as if he were seeing him for the first time. With a pointed cough, the envoy compelled Errion forward. As they walked down the corridor, Errion whispered, “I have never told you how much I love you.” He glanced at his friend of over twenty turns. “I’ve always known that I do. I just never said so.” A smile of satisfaction crossed Lorren’s face. “I knew that day in the study. My father asked me if I was in love with you, and I remember thinking that I probably was.” He clasped his hand. “I know for certain now.” Errion stopped walking, pulled Lorren close and kissed him. Not hard and firm as he usually did, but sweetly, softly, their lips pressing lightly together. A new kind of sexual energy passed between them, stronger in many ways, but kinder too. Another pointed coughing fit from the envoy separated them, and they resumed walking down the hall. Errion glanced down and noticed Lorren’s feet were as bare as his. “Why did they take our shoes?” “Gabriyel said it’s so we’ll be disinclined to run away.” “Ah.” They were quiet after that. Errion felt Gabriyel and Farjika physically growing closer, and he smiled despite the dire circumstances. Connecting to them mentally wasn’t the same as actually being near them. However, even in the cramped skip, the guards kept him and Lorren separated from Gabriyel and Farjika. The trip down to the palace was short. Once they landed, they disembarked. He had a brief glimpse of a snow-shrouded world, blinding him with brightness, and then rough-hewn stone walls engulfed them. Ahead of him, Farjika walked with her head held high, her heels tapping against the polished stone floors. At least ten massive guards surrounded her on all sides with Roland taking the lead. Pompous bully. Still, Errion could see she wore a stunning crimson dress that covered her from neck to knee; only her face and calves were bare, which was surprisingly sexier than her being naked would be. In the glittering heels, she looked tall and lanky, but Errion was anticipating the change in her form when the baby began to show. Behind him, Lorren and the guards that surrounded them, was Gabriyel. Glancing over his shoulder, Errion decided that Gabriyel managed to look sexier naked than he did with clothing. Even flaccid, his cock was impressive. “We are facing a life or death situation and you can’t keep your eyes or mind off his cock?” Lorren’s mental voice cracked like a whip in Errion’s brain and brought his attention back to their plodding journey from the roof of the palace to the myriad hallways within.
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“It’s like a labyrinth.” Errion muttered to no one in particular. “And there’s nothing wrong with admiring a man’s cock. You have to admit it’s very nice.” “Yes, I’m sure we all agree that Gabriyel’s cock is stunning, but that’s hardly important right now.” Farjika sounded on the verge of hysterical laughter while Gabriyel was surprisingly silent. “They are taking us to The Throne of the Empress.” Farjika explained it was where the three thrones of her parents sat. “It’s where official visits or reprimands take place.” Errion didn’t have to see her to feel her apprehension. Farjika was literally shaking in her shoes. Each step pushed her anxiety up another notch. When she stumbled and her hands shot out to steady herself, a guard was there, offering out a burly arm for her. Gratefully she righted herself. He let go, but Errion saw his reluctance. “Careful, Farjika, just the scent of you drives men to madness.” Errion kept his attention on her generous bottom and the way it swayed seductively. His pounding heartbeat matched the up-down motion of her cheeks. “Then stop talking about Gabriyel’s cock, and I wouldn’t get all wet and clumsy!” She shot a quick glare over her shoulder. “Stop thinking about my bottom too. You’re giving Gabriyel and Lorren erections. The last thing we need is for all three of you to walk in with stiff pricks!” Regardless of the serious nature of their journey, all three men chuckled quietly to themselves. Knowledge was power, and knowing that sexual excitement made Farjika clumsy could come in handy. “If we ever get out of this mess.” Gabriyel’s seriousness wiped away any lingering mirth. Errion turned his mind to mathematical equations that bored him immensely but had the desired effect. All their libidos returned to neutral. Ahead, an enormous arched doorway hung with rich crimson fabric yawned like a massive mouth. Errion gulped. His hand shot out and grasped Lorren’s. Sweaty and cold, they clasped their hands tightly together and kept them that way no matter how much the envoy coughed. Two tiny brown-eyed, brown-haired servants split the fabric open as if lips parting, and the group of them entered the belly of the beast.
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Chapter Twenty-Nine
Farjika almost stumbled again as she entered The Throne of the Empress, but she managed to catch herself. All three of her parents sat upon a raised dais at the far end of the circular room. Her mother sat in the grandest throne in the center with her two fathers on lesser thrones at either side. Not a one of them looked happy to see her. In her heart, she had hoped they would greet her with smiles, open arms, grateful forgiveness just to have her returned to them unharmed. What she got instead were faces heavy with disappointment. The urge to tell them everything possessed her, but Farjika rejected the idea. If her parents knew about her mystical bonding, they might be compelled to execute Errion and Lorren rather than allow two barsitas to have potential control over the future ruler. They wouldn’t view their mental joining as a wondrous thing; they would view it as a potential threat. The less her parents and the populace knew, the better. Bithia looked regal as she always did, her height evident even while seated in her enormous throne. Clad in crimson, as were her fathers, her dress was modest but managed to convey her sensual nature. Her hair was still the darkest black, but because of her original sweltering homeland, she preferred to keep the strands short and spiky. Mismatched eyes tracked Farjika’s progress along the red carpet that ran from the doorway to the dais where she sat. When her mother’s gaze beheld the prisoners, Farjika swore she saw one edge of her mouth and one eyebrow quirk upwards. Both faded away so quickly Farjika started to doubt she’d seen them at all. Upon taking a fortifying breath, the rich perfume of hundreds of flowers filled her lungs. All around the room, fresh flowers of red and white filled enormous urns, and between each stood a palace guard. Over forty massive men lined the circular walls of the room. Such a show of force was unnecessary, but she knew this idea was Drahka’s, not Bithia’s. Her second father, Viltori, watched her from below his gleaming blond hair. With a start, she realized he was similar in looks to Errion, except Viltori’s eyes were dark brown and Errion’s were green. But in height, weight and build, they were eerily similar. The shock of that notion led her to realize Lorren in some respects was similar to her first father, Drahka. Uncomfortable with the comparison, Farjika shook the thoughts away but realized that might have caused her mother’s surprise. She’d inadvertently chosen two men similar, at least in looks, to her fathers. However, that was where the similarities ended. The four men couldn’t be more different in personality, comportment and manner.
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Drahka, her first father, was so big he made the throne he sat upon seem tiny. Fury added years to his features, but he was still a vigorous man. Not a soul in the palace would dare to challenge him. Dark eyes, dark hair and the darkest expression caused all three men behind her to gulp. The idea of dealing with her angry father wasn’t nearly as terrifying as actually seeing the massive man all three of them had infuriated. Gabriyel shivered and lowered his head. Farjika realized he didn’t wish to offer any kind of challenge to Drahka, fearing that would only anger him more. Even Errion and Lorren bowed their heads respectfully, looking at the trio while keeping their faces tipped toward the floor. Roland halted their group and then took three steps forward. He bowed deeply. Bithia gave him leave to speak by tipping her face and lifting the palm of her hand. “My great and glorious leaders, I have returned your daughter to you unharmed.” He lifted his hand toward her as if her parents might have forgotten what she looked like. Farjika had an overwhelming urge to make a face behind his greasy back, but that would only confirm her father’s assessment that she was immature, so she slapped a bored expression on her face and stood still. “And I have brought the criminals responsible for her unlawful imprisonment and detainment.” Roland lifted his hand to Errion and Lorren, who listened intently to their envoy’s rapid translation attempt. Since he was missing half the words, Farjika mentally conferred what Roland had just accused them of. To her shock, Errion nodded, as if the assessment were correct. Lorren nudged him hard, making him realize what he’d just done. Errion immediately shook his head back and forth in a negative motion. She should have cautioned them to remain impassive no matter what happened. She told them now, but the damage had already been done. Farjika’s gaze swept up toward Drahka, whose eyes narrowed while his nostrils flared. Fingertips went white as he dug them into the armrests of his throne. Farjika thought that at any second he would launch himself across the room and devour Lorren and Errion with his fury. They caught her thoughts. Rather than holding hands, they now clung so tightly to one another she feared they’d break bones if they didn’t relax. Roland snapped his fingers, compelling the guards to bring Gabriyel forth. Once he was near, Roland grabbed him by his neck and shoved him to his knees. Farjika winced when they hit with a crack despite the thick crimson carpet. His pain shot up her legs, causing her to lurch on her heels, while Errion and Lorren emitted empathetic grunts. All three of her parents noticed this curious reaction. Bafflement ate away at glowering disappointment. Oblivious to everything but his own self-perceived moment of glory, Roland cupped the back of Gabriyel’s head and forced him to look up. Gabriyel did not resist, but he kept his gaze lowered respectfully. Staring directly into the eyes of any of her parents would be perceived as a threat. With a flick of his finger, Drahka could have him executed on the spot. Knowing this, Roland toyed with Gabriyel.
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Through her connection with Gabriyel, Farjika knew the last thing Roland wanted was Gabriyel’s immediate execution. In order for Roland to commit the perversities he had in mind against Gabriyel, he needed privacy. Roland wanted Gabriyel confined and left in his care. But that wasn’t going to stop him from humiliating him before her, her parents and a good portion of the royal guards. “And lastly, I have returned the disgraced captain of her guard, who has been stripped of all rank for gross dereliction of duty and the violation of her physical person.” Farjika’s heart thumped hard in her ears, almost drowning out the sound of Roland’s smug voice. Publicly, he accused only Gabriyel of defiling her. This was how Lorren and Errion would be returned to their holdings within a season. Their lesser crimes of abducting and detaining her wouldn’t carry the same punishment as the accusation placed on Gabriyel. “Wait,” Errion said, picking up on her thoughts. “Only Gabriyel will face execution for violating you?” “Yes,” Farjika answered. “For facilitating this crime, you and Lorren have to be punished, but you won’t face anything severe.” “What if we told them about our bond?” Farjika said no so loudly into his mind, Errion cringed. “I’m sorry,” she soothed. “But keeping the secret of our mental bonding is even more important now. Should anyone other than our group know, you would all become targets.” “Targets?” Lorren asked. “There would be those who would want to kill you as potential threats.” “But why?” “Imagine their reaction to three men having mental control over the future empress.” “But we don’t have that kind of power over you,” Errion pointed out. “How far do you think you’d get in explaining that?” Once the implications sank in, Errion, Lorren and Gabriyel all agreed to keep quiet. Roland pinched the back of Gabriyel’s neck between calloused fingers, clearly hoping he would cry out, thus revealing his weakness. Against her neck, Farjika felt those gripping fingertips digging into her flesh until she could stand no more. “Stop!” All the guards in the room startled, staring at her, stunned that she of all people would cry out when she knew protocol dictated none should speak until Bithia granted them her leave. Ignoring the looks of everyone in the room, Farjika marched up to Roland. “Let go of him.” Roland studiously ignored her while he continued to clamp his fingers around the back of Gabriyel’s neck.
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White-hot energy built in her body. Fury unlike anything she’d ever known gathered, shaking her, until she knew he would not stop until Gabriyel bawled like a child. In an instant, she saw the past, of who this man was to Gabriyel and how he’d held him down and tormented him until he cried and begged for surcease. Without even realizing her intention, Farjika flung her hand up and pushed with all her might against Roland’s chest. Roland flew across the room as if an invisible hand had yanked him. He plowed headfirst into one of the flower-filled urns. An explosion of red and white petals puffed up into the air, then floated gracefully around him. Rolling over and sitting up, Roland clutched his bleeding head, stunned and shaken by what she’d done. Ignoring him and everyone else, Farjika dropped to her knees before Gabriyel. Cupping his head into her hand, she kissed his forehead as tears slipped down her cheeks. Roland’s pinch had hurt him far more than he let on, but in the end, he’d been unable to stop the pain from leaching out to the three of them. “Do not kneel before me, Farjika. Your father has been pushed as far as a man can bear.” Gabriyel lowered his head, refusing to meet her gaze or accept her kiss. “He cannot dictate my heart.” All around her, she felt the guards moving in, but after what she’d done to Roland, none of them was willing to touch her or Gabriyel. “I love you.” Gasps of shock filled the room at her pronouncement. “Don’t throw your life away on me.” “I will always love you.” “Farjika, please don’t do this.” “You are my chosen.” That catapulted her father to his feet. Drahka’s heavy footsteps vibrated the floor below her knees, setting them to trembling. “You kneel before a disgraced slave and call him your chosen?” Drahka grasped her shoulder, lifting her up, forcing her to face him. He seemed to know that whatever power she possessed she would not turn on him. And he was right. Despite his harshness, he was still her father. Everything he’d said and done had been for her safety. Her father loved her beyond reason. She’d hurt him with her disobedience and seemingly careless disregard. “I kneel to the father of my child.” Drahka’s face turned pale as his eyes drifted to her belly. He shook his head as if he could make the truth evaporate by the sheer force of his will. Regaining his fury, he grasped her shoulders. “You could not know. It is too soon.” Realizing he was hurting her with his grip, he loosened his fingers, but he refused to let go.
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A wave of dizziness made her clasp her father’s forearms. Muscles like stones met her fingertips, shocking her with their unrelenting power. She could steal his energy, but she didn’t. The idea of possibly bonding to her father was repulsive and terrifying. Pushing him away, she stood on her own, fighting against the nausea that threatened to topple her. “I do know as surely as I know Gabriyel is my chosen.” Farjika used that word deliberately because it was her father’s word. Only he used that term to describe Bithia. “I can feel him.” She placed her hand low on her belly. “He gave me the strength to stop the abuse of his father.” Unable to stay upright, she collapsed, but Gabriyel caught her, gently lowering her to the floor. In a flash, Errion and Lorren were there too, following the mentally blasted orders of Gabriyel. “Here.” Lorren wrenched off his jacket, wadded it up and slipped it below her head. His scent enveloped her as the fine fabric cushioned her from the floor. Errion slipped his jacket over her upper body, cradling her in warmth and his familiar essence. “You shouldn’t be wearing these in your condition.” With certainty, he slipped off her shoes, tossing them aside. Gabriyel cupped her chin, his gaze examining her face, his will pushing into her body to assess the damage. “Always the captain,” she murmured, letting him take charge. Drahka blinked slowly, as if time had wrapped him up in thick strands. “Send for the royal physician.” Farjika looked up, her gaze capturing her father’s fear but also his rather hesitant pride that every one of her supposed abusers had rushed to her side. Heedless of any repercussions, they united and worked together to comfort and care for her. Sensing that he would only impede their movements, her father stepped back. Bithia, Drahka and Viltori stood near, their pensive faces floating in and out of her hazy awareness. Gabriyel, Lorren and Errion placed their hands on her, filling her up with their energy. “You drained yourself shoving Roland.” Gabriyel loomed above her, his face a curious combination of reprimand and satisfaction. “I have never seen so many burly men so terrified of one young woman.” His gaze swept the guards encircling the room. “I think every one of them was shocked and jealous when you knelt before one of their own.” He leaned forward. “You gave every man hope.” “Hope for what?” “That a woman like you isn’t out of their grasp.” Gabriyel kissed her, his lips cold and firm, but they warmed and softened as the kiss deepened. He could have shared his strength with her without contact, but this made the flow of energy smoother and was so much more pleasurable. “I love you, my lady.” “I love you, my hero.” Errion and Lorren didn’t pull away, but they sensed the change and knew her decision before she told them. When her gaze lighted on Errion, he nodded with understanding, but Lorren frowned.
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“I want to bond to all of you in a spectacular ceremony that would rival that of my namesake, Farjika the Dark, but I can’t.” “Why?” Lorren asked. “As the future empress, I’m allowed one bonding ceremony. I can’t claim you and Errion until you’ve completed your punishment.” “Then wait and bond to us all.” “By claiming Gabriyel now, I can protect him, but then I would only be able to claim you and Errion as consorts, not bondmates.” She glanced up at Lorren. “There really is no difference in status; it’s just wording.” “If you don’t claim Gabriyel now?” Errion nudged Lorren hard. “If she doesn’t, I doubt he’ll live very long.” Farjika nodded. “He won’t be officially executed, but...” “Someone will make sure I’m dealt with,” Gabriyel supplied. “I am a slave after all.” “And bonding to you will give him magical protection?” Lorren asked. “He will be my bondmate and consort. To attack him would be to attack the throne itself. Not a soul would dare to commit treason, not after what happened to the man who did so against my mother.” The execution of Ambo Votny was over twenty seasons ago, but people still spoke in hushed terms about his death. As disappointed as Lorren was, he also realized the necessity of her choice. As the three of them helped her to her feet, relief washed down her parents’ faces. The hugs she’d been hoping for materialized as all her parents’ arms enfolded her at once. Rather than feeling smothered by their love as she so often did, she felt embraced by it, so filled with the power of love she knew she glowed.
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Chapter Thirty
Gabriyel was naked again. Bathed, oiled and so hard his cock quivered, he stood on a dais encircled by crimson fabric. Beyond the drape, he heard what sounded like an audience of thousands. His palms were sweaty, and his skin prickled with awareness. When the fabric fell, pooling all around him, his focus narrowed to the only thing that mattered. Nude and slick with oil, Farjika stood before him. Her caramel skin glowed softly golden while her eyes danced with joy. In spite of the fact that they’d seen each other naked, they both cast their gazes up and down the other. Gabriyel hoped she found his body as pleasing as he found hers. High beautiful breasts peaked by dark brown nipples, followed by the tiniest waist, then flaring out around wide, grabable hips. Sleek but strong thighs, dimpled knees and powerful calves capped off by surprisingly sexy feet. His gaze returned to her face, his appreciation mirrored in her eyes. The way she looked at him made him feel powerful and strong, like a god among men. He wanted to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, but he refrained. If this were only a dream, he would see it through to the end and appreciate every moment. “It’s not a dream.” Farjika’s voice filled his mind as her essence touched his soul. The magistrate, Menon Levotch, clad in white with an enormous fur hat upon his head, approached the edge of the raised platform. He spoke in the ancient tongue, some of which Gabriyel understood, but the specifics didn’t matter. All he needed to know was what the result of this ceremony would bring. Finished with the invocation, Menon pointed. Willingly, Gabriyel knelt before Farjika. Peering up her smooth belly, he had to bend over a bit to place a reverent kiss upon her hairless mound. When his lips touched her oil-warmed skin, his heart skipped a beat. Joy unlike any he’d ever known filled him along with staggering lust. Her musky scent filled his lungs, the luscious perfume making his already hard cock even harder. He wanted to push her thighs apart and lick the source of that compelling fragrance. “I would like that too. However, we have the rest of the ceremony to get through.” Farjika traced her finger across his lips, then slipped it below his chin. “Rise.” Gabriyel stood. Towering over her, he waited breathlessly for Menon to finish another lengthy speech. When he did, he handed Farjika a gem-encrusted vial. Delicately, she removed the cap, poured a liquid into the palm of her hand, and then handed the small bottle back.
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She gave a short speech using the ancient language, all the while smoothing her hands together, which caused the liquid to sparkle. Holding his gaze with the power of hers, she cupped her hands around his cock. An explosion of heat and longing caused him to rock back on his heels. Something squeezed all the breath out of his lungs and forced all the blood in his body to fill his penis. Throbbing and huge, his prick became his entire world. If he did not find way to contain the ever-expanding flesh of his shaft, he would explode in a cascade of frustration. Farjika turned away, then bent at the waist, offering him her slick sex—the perfect sheath for his cock. Into his powerful hands, he took her hips as he bent his knees, aligning himself. With a mighty shove, he thrust into her, filling her in one great plunge. Hot, slick and so wickedly tight, her cunt enveloped his cock. He thought he might die from the pleasure of feeling her wrapped around him. Gabriyel clung to her, marveling at how her inner muscles convulsed around his shaft. Never did he think anything would top the intensity of plunging into her as she dangled helplessly from the ceiling, but this was so far beyond that he couldn’t even begin to compare. Farjika’s breath whooshed out when he possessed her, her arms going wide to keep her balance. “You’re not going anywhere, my lady.” Gabriyel lifted his hands up from her hips to her breasts. Rough fingertips felt every texture of her nipples despite his calluses. He pulled her close until her back pressed against his chest, her oiled flesh sliding against him. Crossing one arm over her shoulders and the other over her hips, he lifted her off the dais, thrusting the rest of his cock into her. Emitting a cry of blissful satisfaction, she clung to his arms, helping him hold her up for his bouncing thrusts. A desire to plunge fast and furious into her was swept away by a deeper need to prolong this moment. Her body writhed seductively against his, her plush bottom rippling with each thrust. When she turned her head, he captured her lips with his and kissed her with a hunger he’d never felt before. A terrible all-consuming hunger that only she could satisfy. Reaching back, she held his face, deepening the kiss, her need tumbling through his mind in bursts of incomprehensible phrases. But he already knew. She needed what he needed. Lowering her feet back to the surface of the platform, he released her from his crossed arms. Bending her over by sliding one hand up her back, he forced himself to hold steady until she was ready. His hand twined in her black hair as it flowed loose and still slightly damp over her shoulders. Pulling a few strands lifted her head, exposing the vulnerable length of her neck. From behind her, he could not see this, but he felt her reaction to his manipulation of her form. Together they pictured the image they made, aroused and excited by the provocative pose. Grasping her buttocks, he thrust so deeply into her she cried out. He would have pulled back, fearing she was in pain, but for the way she encouraged him, readying herself for the next plunge by parting her
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legs and gripping her feet into the textured surface of the dais. Arching her back, she placed her hands against her knees, further bracing herself. Again and again he rocked into her, her growling moans matching his, her muscles straining to hold her up and accept his complete domination. He had to kneel before her to show obeisance to her as the future empress, but she had to make herself vulnerable for his possession. Bent over, she was utterly at his mercy. Each plunge brought him closer to climax, each thrust smeared more of the liquid she’d placed upon his cock up to her clit. Together they rode toward completion. When the first spark filtered through, lifting his balls, Farjika clamped around him, crushing his cock like a fist, forcing him to snarl as he plunged one final time. Muscles tight, he poured his climax into her as she accepted with her own, her passage milking every drop from him. Bending over her, he wrapped his arms around her shuddering body and hugged her hard, needing to feel as much of her skin pressed against his as he could. Bursts of power passed between them, then settled into their spent bodies. Curious how after expending so much energy on mating he should feel remarkably energetic. He wanted nothing more than to pull her down into his arms and cuddle her until he was ready to love her again. Applause caused him to jump back, yanking his still-hard cock from her. The loss was profound, and he gritted his teeth not to cry. He had forgotten all about the guests. Over a hundred people lined rows of seats around the dais. Noticing them now, their glittering eyes overwhelmed him. Farjika spun and plastered herself against his chest, her surprise evident. “I forgot all about them.” “So did I.” Tented blouses and trousers caused him to blush and look away. “Why are they here?” “Tradition mostly, but also to ensure there is no question that our relationship was consummated.” “They don’t know you’re already pregnant?” She shrugged, her shoulders rising and falling against his chest. “I don’t care what they know. All I know is that you are now and forever my eternal bondmate and willing consort.” Tilting her head back, she met his gaze. There was so much that she wanted to say, but everything jumbled up in her mind, hitting him in a tumbling rush of emotion. “You don’t have to say a word. I feel exactly the same way.” Her smile touched him right down to his toes. Menon stepped forward, gave a closing speech and then bowed, presenting them as a couple. After a hasty acknowledgement to the packed audience, Farjika grabbed Gabriyel’s hand and pulled him from the room. Slipping out the back way, they ran through a maze of hallways, but he knew exactly where they were going. When they approached her rooms, the two men standing guard saw them coming and held the doors open. Once they rushed through, they closed the doors firmly behind them.
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Sweeping her up into his arms, Gabriyel carried her to the raised bed. “Do you know how many times I imagined myself in these sheets with you?” He settled her into the rich crimson bedclothes, reveling at the lovely contrast of her burnished skin against the astle. Shaking her head, she drew him down into her embrace. “Imagine no longer.” Locking his lips to hers, he balanced himself above her, smoothing her hair back tenderly as he touched her cheek, her chin, the stunning length of her neck, then straight down to her belly. Spanning his hand across, he felt his child within. A rush of emotions threatened to overwhelm him. When he pulled back from her, she smiled tentatively. “Are you all right?” Nodding, he lowered himself, nuzzling his face against her tummy. “Beyond everything I feel at this moment, I have a profound sense of gratitude.” Lazily, she ran her fingers through his hair. “We are very blessed.” So much had gone wrong, but they had persevered. If not for Farjika’s steadfast belief, he feared he would have given up. “I almost feel as if I still don’t deserve any of this.” Below him, she went taut. “I said almost.” Lifting his head, he peered up into her concerned face. “It’s still so new and fragile. Like a dream.” He settled back, hugging her firmly. “Trust me, I have no intention of giving anything up.” Nothing could tear him away from the love of his life and the child they’d created. For a while, they lay together, calm in the aftermath of the intense empress bonding ritual, but soon their thoughts turned to their companions. “They are blocking me.” Regardless of his best efforts, guilt leaked into his blissful calm. Farjika nodded. “Me too.” “I thought they understood.” “Understanding the necessity of something and accepting the consequences of it are two different things.”
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Chapter Thirty-One
Lorren paced the plush carpet of his prison. Just like on the ship, they kept him confined in decadent splendor. Oddly, this room was similarly decorated in varying shades of gray. From Farjika’s mind, he gathered the importance of color on Diola. Gray was considered neutral. The only thing he did not have was the freedom of coming and going as he pleased. Not that he would know where to go even if they turned him loose. Keen observations told him the palace was a massive structure that rivaled the dimensions of small villages on Avalith. Repeatedly, he felt Gabriyel and Farjika seeking a connection, but he refused. Flinging up an impenetrable mental wall, he isolated himself from them. Lorren wanted to be alone with his thoughts. Even though he knew he’d made the right decision to protect Gabriyel, sacrificing his place by Farjika’s side still devastated him. “Would you please stop? Your anger is giving me a headache.” Errion lifted up from the bed where he lay on his back, gazing at the painting on the ceiling above. “Come over here and help me interpret the meaning of this.” Lorren ignored the offer. “I don’t care about the significance of prison art.” He shot a quick glance upward. A profusion of colors irritated his eyes, drawing his attention back to the cool gray carpet. “I don’t think this room is a prison. Farjika told me it’s reserved for visiting dignitaries.” “Semantics. We’re hardly visiting dignitaries if we’re confined to our rooms.” Lorren spun on his heel, marching back the other direction. From the locked door to the table between the beds took twentyfive steps. Stomping, he marched to and fro, digging his bare feet into the amazingly lush carpet. For a moment, wondering what the fiber of the carpet was distracted him. He thought it would make for much more lifelike hair on his robots. Lorren shook off the notion, determined to hold on to his anger. “Because anger is so much easier to feel rather than fear.” Errion’s voice was contemplative rather than combative. “You and Farjika’s father have much in common.” “Shut. Up.” Clipped and concise, Lorren cautioned his lifelong companion to leave him alone, but he knew he wouldn’t. Errion had a knack for forcing him to confront his problems and not just cover them up. Lorren alternately loved and hated him for that skill. “We did the right thing by stepping aside.” Intellectually, Lorren knew that, but it didn’t feel very right. Not when he was considering the consequences anew. The fact that Errion was at peace with their decision only aggravated him more.
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Although, having Errion pacing in fury with him wouldn’t help in the least. Still, his implacable calm and occasional pedantic snippets of deep wisdom weren’t helping matters either. “She knows that we love her. She loves us too. We just have to wait.” Errion flopped onto his back. “Waiting is the hardest part.” Fear gnawed at Lorren, eating away at his pride, his self-assurance and the very core of his belief in himself. Softly, he asked, “What if Farjika discovers that she no longer wants either one of us?” Gabriyel was her hero. There was no escaping that. Since she carried his child, she’d chosen him as her bondmate and primary consort. “She also did so to save his life,” Errion pointed out. Lorren snarled something ugly in response that Errion ignored. “What if Farjika discovers that she no longer wants either one of us?” Errion asked. Lorren closed his eyes. He couldn’t see himself returning to Avalith and picking up the pieces. If Farjika rejected him, he would never recover. “Oh, such drama!” Errion rolled over to his belly. “Do you hear yourself?” “Why don’t you go to your own room?” Lorren pointed to the door that separated their suites. When he’d gone over to investigate, he discovered a mirror image of his suite. Same double beds, same elaborate bathroom, same dining area complete with a simple way of ordering anything they wanted. Well, except for Farjika’s companionship. He’d already tried to contact her and been told absolutely not in no uncertain terms. For the length of a season, he would not be able to speak to her or be in her presence. This was his and Errion’s punishment for abducting and detaining her. “I don’t want to be alone.” Errion hit him with his plaintive gaze. “Everyone now knows that I don’t like to be alone.” Errion’s initial embarrassment faded away once he and his lovers understood his driving need for companionship stemmed from the abandonment of his parents. “I’ve accepted myself as I am. Maybe you should do the same.” “And what does that mean?” Errion didn’t speak. He just looked at him. Turning away, Lorren continued his steady pacing. “A season on Diola is a long time, almost an entire turn on Avalith.” Lorren reconsidered that what seemed a spacious room would grow increasingly cramped. “Plenty of time for Farjika to lose herself in Gabriyel’s embrace.” “His is an embrace that would be easy to get lost in.” Errion nodded thoughtfully, his smile turning devious and dark. “But what could really woo her is that amazing cock of his.” Lorren glared at Errion. “You’re not helping.” “I’m not trying to.” Errion rolled over until he dropped off the side of the bed. “You just wanted to be the hero.”
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Stopping midstride, Lorren closed his eyes and saw himself in Gabriyel’s place. He wanted to be her eternal bondmate and primary consort. “I wanted to be her chosen.” The admission cut into his pride like a physical blow. “I know.” Errion wrapped his arms around him, hugging him from behind. Warm, solid and familiar, his embrace soothed the hurt. “Despite what you think, you are a hero.” Lorren scoffed. “How? By making all of this come about?” He lifted his hands as if to encompass all that had happened in the last few spins. “You were heroic enough to stand aside and let Farjika have what she needed, not what you wanted.” He paused, giving Lorren time to consider his words. “That’s what a hero does.” Errion’s voice was barely a whisper, the heat of his words restful along Lorren’s ravaged nerves. “Doing the right thing, the honorable thing, is rarely easy.” Lorren turned, wrapping his arms around Errion. Pulling him close, he let himself feel all the pain of stepping aside. Crushing in intensity, he clung to Errion for support. “I hate to admit this, but I think I hoped that she would see that, my sacrifice, and push him aside for me anyway.” He moved back just enough to glance into Errion’s eyes. “How heroic is that?” “It’s not. It’s human. And you’re that too.” Errion brushed a few wayward strands off Lorren’s forehead. “You know, I really am beginning to despise this wise and philosophical side of you.” Lorren shook his head, flinging his hair in all directions, knowing how much Errion always did like him looking as if he’d just tumbled out of bed. “Yeah?” Errion brushed both hands through his hair, tangling the dark strands even more. “I thought I was embracing the new me rather well.” “The new you is going to be an annoying know-it-all?” Lorren rolled his eyes. “And I’m stuck here with you for a season?” “Well, I could refrain on the all-knowing thing if you can contain your regret.” Lorren considered. “Deal.” Errion kissed him quick before he could change his mind. Lorren let his familiar scent and feel comfort him. “Was all this a trick to get into my embrace?” Lorren toyed with the buttons on Errion’s shirt. Slipping them apart one by one, he watched as his eyelids lowered and his gaze darkened. “Think of all this time we have together. What better way to spend it than in bed, scheming?” Lorren’s eyebrows rose. “Scheming?” “Oh yes.” Errion popped the buttons apart on Lorren’s shirt with practiced finesse. “Scheming ways to torment and tease the lovely lady Farjika when we do have her back in our clutches.” Errion emitted an
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evil laugh that was so over the top Lorren couldn’t help but laugh too. “Of course, we will have to plot some devious plans for the heroic Gabriyel as well.” “Yes, he of the awesome penis.” Begrudgingly, Lorren had to admit the man was something special, and not just because of his spectacular body. In truly heroic fashion, he’d been willing to take the blame to spare the rest of them from harm. Lorren was now bonded to the man, and he accepted him, but living up to someone like Gabriyel wasn’t going to be easy. “Yours is just as nice.” Errion cupped him through his trousers. “And I already know all the secret spots on you.” “You think so?” Lorren maneuvered Errion back toward the bed he’d been lying on. “Do you want me to prove it?” Errion’s fingers made quick work of Lorren’s trousers and then his own. Nude, they stood pressed together. For a long time Lorren considered all the wicked pleasures that Errion could give. In the end, he shook his head. “You don’t have anything to prove.” Tumbling him back on the bed, they didn’t even bother to crawl under the covers. Instead, they rolled around, kissing, teasing and playing. Without striving toward climax, they simply were together, enjoying each other as only longtime lovers could. Rolling Lorren to his back, Errion lifted up so he could look into Lorren’s eyes. “Don’t be angry, but I’m glad she didn’t pick you as her primary.” Shocked, Lorren opened his mouth to blare a rude response, but Errion’s despairing expression cautioned him to silence. “I still want you for myself.” Errion shook his head. “I know, I know, we’re part of this group thing now, and I’m happy about that, I really am. But there’s still a part of me that wants you as my primary.” Mollified, Lorren considered. “Not Farjika or even Mr. Fabulous Cock?” “Not even.” Errion sighed. “It’s always been you. I’ve always known.” Touched, Lorren cupped his head and kissed him. Before Errion could toss up a block, Lorren saw the truth. “You’re still afraid that once I have her, I won’t want you.” Errion tried to deny the accusation, but the truth was there, simmering in his mind, no matter how he tried to cover it up. “It’s difficult for me. I’ve always worried when you hooked up with someone that one of them might lead you from my bed forever.” Holding forehead to forehead, Lorren peered into his eyes. “I want you too.” He opened his mind and let Errion see and feel that truth. “You know I’m a greedy man. I want all three of you.” “But you want her more.” Errion glanced away, then back, as if hoping when he looked into Lorren’s mind again, the answer would be different. “And I don’t think you’d mind if Gabriyel were entirely out of the picture.”
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“That isn’t true.” When they’d been forced together in the prison below his manor, Gabriyel’s intense and quiet command of his body had stolen a part of his heart and soul. “I’m bound to him, as I am to her and you.” Errion looked to argue the point. “But I was bound to you long before all of this.” Lorren rolled Errion onto his back. “We didn’t need the magical, mystical Fentaru accident to be irrevocably entwined to one another. That happened long before then. Long before the incident in the study.” Gently he rubbed his scruffy cheek against Errion’s, loving the raspy sound of their facial hair colliding. “The very first time I saw you, I think I knew. I think my father knew too. That’s when he started in with his plans and demands, always wanting me to be a man and do manly things despite the fact I was only a boy.” “Your father is such a limp dick.” Together they laughed. “He’s going to be so upset that I ended up the consort to an empress and yet still have you.” Errion nodded. “We just have to get through this.” “As you said, we can spend the time scheming.” Lorren slipped between Errion’s legs. “Now, what do you think we should do first?” While they made a lazy kind of love, they considered all the options for teasing and tormenting not only Farjika, but Gabriyel as well. Their scenarios became ever more fantastical the closer they came to climax. Envisioning the most bizarrely perverse positions possible pushed them over the edge and into blissful oblivion.
As the season passed, they were allowed out of their rooms and given tours of the grand palace, but they were never allowed anywhere near Farjika. Repeatedly, she tried to sneak in to see them, but security was far too tight. Frustrated, they had to console themselves with telepathic lovemaking, which offered a release, but nothing so intense as actual contact. Toward the end of their captivity, Gabriyel let both Errion and Lorren ride in his mind as he gently loved a very pregnant Farjika. The experience had been more poignant than any of them thought possible. Feeling the life within her body had been profoundly moving, bringing Errion to tears. When the child came, screaming and bellowing into the world, they had been there too, terrified for Farjika as complications arose, necessitating surgery. The child had simply been too big to pass in the usual way. During surgery, they sent energy to her and the child, all feeling overwhelming relief when the ordeal was over. Robust, with dark hair and eyes, the boy blended the best of his parents’ features. They named him Javon, derived from Jarravon, the god of honor and fidelity. Slipping into Farjika’s mind to feel the child
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tug at her breast had been both touching and oddly sensual, causing his and Errion’s nipples to stand at attention. Finally, the day of their release was at hand. He and Errion dressed with care, both laughing as they were allowed shoes. After such a long time without them, they felt unnaturally stiff and slippery against the carpet and polished stone. Rather than fall and embarrass themselves, they decided to leave them off. Barefoot and bohemian, they moved through the palace to meet their destiny. A small contingent of guards escorted them to what one of them called the circle, which referred to both the advisors to the empress and the large circular room where they met. Farjika stood waiting by massive double-hung doors. Dressed in clinging crimson, her hair artistically piled atop her head, her mysterious dark eyes hit Lorren with almost a physical force. In the intervening time of their separation, she’d matured somehow. Her stance seemed taller, more assured. The cut of the dress showed off her swollen breasts, and Lorren’s mouth watered at the thought of tasting her. The guards left them at her command. For a long time they stood staring at each other. A season of time had passed without physical contact. Even though he felt starved for her touch, Lorren was oddly hesitant to rush forward. There was no question in his mind that Farjika wanted him just as much now as she did the day they parted, but time had left them feeling like all this was new again. Biting her lower lip, Farjika took a step toward them, and that was all it took. In a rush, the three of them embraced. Wrapping their arms around each other, they hugged so hard they lifted Farjika off her feet. She kissed Lorren, then Errion, then back and forth until they melded their mouths together in simultaneous bliss. Farjika tasted wonderful and sweet, her sighs and moans of pleasure heating his blood and hardening his cock. He wanted to push her up against the nearest wall and do her right here. So what if the enormous hallway looked well-traveled? If anyone saw him with the future empress, they’d probably turn away out of respect, or at least leave them alone out of embarrassment. Lorren doubted anyone would have the guts to stand and watch him fornicate with the empress’s daughter. When she felt Lorren pressing against one hip and Errion digging into the other, she placed her hands on their chests and forcefully pushed them back. “I have to claim you first.” Desire straightened his spine. He’d been waiting so long, but a perverse need to make her work for him compelled Lorren to ask, “Do I have a choice?” Surprise registered on her face. “I thought you wanted to be my consort?” Her gaze jumped to Errion. “Don’t you?” Lorren felt her seeking access to his mind. He cut her off by slamming down his mental shield. He wanted to hear her speak the words in her heart, not just convey everything to him in a jolt of telepathy by mimicking what she read within him.
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Errion bowed. “I do, my lovely one, but I think Lorren wishes to play hard to get.” Turning on his bare heel, he wandered away to inspect the artwork along the walls, affording them some privacy. A frown wrinkled her forehead. Lorren felt her concern sweep over him, seeking out any pain that she had caused to him, but he still wouldn’t let her inside his mind. Lowering her face, she whispered, “What do you want from me?” Her genuine torment turned the black depths of her eyes smoky. Knowing he was being cruel didn’t stop him from continuing. “I wanted to be first, but I guess you’re asking me to settle for second place.” What Errion said was true; he did want to play hard to get. Moreover, he wanted her to consider that his acceptance wasn’t a forgone conclusion, even though it was. Lorren could no more walk away from her than he could stop breathing. But his ego, that incredibly fragile and nebulous creature, demanded some satisfaction. “You’re not second.” Farjika’s intense longing and passion poured over his battered pride like a balm. “I love you.” She spoke while looking right into his eyes. “I want you to be my consort. I wanted to claim you the day we came here, but you know there was nothing I could do.” Lorren wanted to berate her about choosing Gabriyel to be not only her consort, but also her bondmate. He didn’t. Lorren knew that was not her wish. She wanted to have all three of them as bondmates and consorts, but she had no choice in the matter. She had one bonding ceremony and she had to claim Gabriyel right away. His status as a slave made him vulnerable to an attack by members of the elite and even members of his own class. She couldn’t simply claim him as a consort because she had to claim a bondmate first. And since she only had one bonding ceremony, she couldn’t claim multiple bondmates like her mother or namesake. Waiting for the two of them to be free simply wasn’t practical. There was nothing to be done about the situation now, even though it dug at him and probably always would. Lorren knew he had to get control of his resentment, because letting his bitterness fester would drive a wedge between him and Gabriyel. That would only hurt their quaternity. “What does being your consort mean, exactly?” Lorren crossed his arms over his chest, earning him an annoyed sigh from Errion. All his life he’d been the one pursued. Men and women longed for him and strove to capture him. He’d turned them all down. It irked him to no end that he’d fallen victim to the same tormented feelings he’d disdained in others. “You have many rights, a few responsibilities.” She shrugged, then added, “I can never execute you but for treason, and any children that come of our union will be legitimate.” He could see her struggle for more, but the details eluded her. Quietly, on a whisper, she finished, “We can be together, all of us.” Lorren nodded slowly, considering. Without a word, Farjika lowered herself to her knees. His pulse shot up so fast he almost toppled forward.
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“Do you want me to beg?” Her gaze traveled up from his waist to his face. “If that’s what you need, I will humble myself.” Every cell in his body that longed to master her sparked to awareness. Blood flooded his cock, leaving just enough in his brain to fuel the primitive mind of the beast. “They say actions speak louder than words.” Lorren reached out one finger to trace her lips. He gritted his teeth when he saw his hand shook. Farjika had fallen to her knees before Gabriyel. As much as it shocked her parents, it inflamed his jealousy. He wanted her to hunger for him in the same way. This was her way of appeasing that longing in him. “You want to humiliate her?” Errion asked, watching them as he leaned against the wall. “No, I want to know that she really wants me.” “And sucking your cock in a public hallway is going to prove that?” “It couldn’t hurt.” Bracing himself, Lorren stared hard at her plush lips, his intent clear. Without hesitation, Farjika popped apart the edges of his trousers, freeing him. Hard and thick, his prick craned toward her face, hungry for contact. Leaning her head back, keeping her gaze locked on his, she kissed the tip, then slid him within. Buttocks tightening, he cupped her cheek, watching his length disappear into her mouth. All his senses cut to acute awareness. Beyond the massive doors, he heard the murmurings of hundreds of people. Would they be shocked to see the daughter of their ruler on her knees sucking a former prisoner? That Farjika would even take the risk spoke volumes and appeased the beast within. Farjika seemed to understand his need for dominance, as she expressed no shame in her actions. When he probed her mind, he found only her longing to please him and reassure him that she loved him as much as she loved Gabriyel and Errion. In her mind, they were equally heroic. All of them had made sacrifices of one thing or another to be with her, and she was willing to make sacrifices in turn. Teasing her lips and tongue over and around the sensitive head, she closed her eyes, savoring the first few drops of his release. Placing himself within her, he was able to taste himself and feel how his girth stretched her lips. The dual sensation was heady, knocking him sideways with possibilities. To be in his body and hers at the same time presented entirely new erotic vistas. Letting her into his mind almost dropped him to his knees. The round and round of feeling, doing, tasting, knowing spun his head. Fearing that he would lose his identity if he continued, he pulled back, staying firmly within his own mind and body. Once he stabilized, he opened his eyes and peered down at her, a whole new appreciation for her indulgence washing over him. As she worked him, her breasts pressed tightly against the bodice of her dress, the tops threatening to spill over the edge. “Expose your breasts to me.”
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Without taking him from her mouth, she slid the fabric down until her nipples popped over the edge. His control all but evaporated when small pearls of milk beaded at the tip. Longing to taste her, needing more than this pathetic display of mastery, he pulled his cock from her lips, yanked her to her feet and then pressed her against the wall. “Ha! I knew you wouldn’t go through with it!” Errion’s tone was playfully mocking as he moved closer to them. Lorren took one of her nipples into his mouth as Errion took the other. Sucking lightly, they tasted her, causing her to moan and clutch their heads, holding them firmly against her. Dropping his hand, Lorren grasped the fabric at the edge of her dress and pulled upward, exposing her panty-clad sex to the cool dry air. Plunging his hand between her legs showed how unbelievably wet she was. Her slickness had soaked the panties, making them almost frictionless as he rubbed his fingers back and forth along her slit. Farjika moaned and writhed against the wall, her whispered pleas thrashing across his inflamed body like a soft leather whip. Alternately ordering then begging him, Farjika became frantic as she yanked down Errion’s trousers. Freeing his cock, she took each of them in hand. But her victory was short lived. Working with Errion, they each pinned one of her hands, then got her panties off so they both had access to her swollen sex. The scent of her arousal was strong, filling the hallway with musky need. Together they fingered her, one holding her pinned while the other tormented. When her cries grew too loud, they took turns covering her mouth with theirs, kissing her and muffling her growling pleas. Unable to take anymore, Lorren pulled her into his arms and thrust his cock into her. Her walls clamped around him so tightly he felt wedged within, barely able to thrust. Errion came up behind her, pulling up her skirt, exposing her plush and inviting bottom. With a glance of acknowledgement, they enacted one of their most talked-about plans. “Do you know what we did while we were locked away?” Lorren asked. Barely able to focus through the haze of lust, Farjika shook her head as she dug her fingers into his shoulders. “We thought of all the ways we could use your lovely body. All the creative and nasty ways we could tease and torment your beautiful form.” “In ways you haven’t already?” she asked lightly. “Oh, we haven’t even begun.” While Lorren held her against his chest with his cock buried deep, Errion slipped out his ever-present lube and condom holder. Farjika heard him fumbling, but Lorren wouldn’t let her look and see what he was doing. From bits and pieces he’d collected from her mind, her culture didn’t have condoms, mainly because they had no sexually transmitted diseases. Still, for this they thought it would ease Errion’s entry. After
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rolling the sheath down his prick, Errion applied a generous amount of lube, then teased his gooey cock against her bottom. Gasping, she clung to Lorren’s shoulders, trying to brace herself against Errion’s careful but inexorable invasion. Carefully, he and Errion entered each other’s minds and bodies so that they could feel her from both sides. Their cocks were practically touching but for the thinnest membrane. When they pulled Farjika into the mix, the sensations were overwhelming, forcing Lorren to retreat to his own body, his own cock, his own heart-stopping feelings. Watching Errion and Farjika’s erotic torment twist their faces into animalistic snarls propelled Lorren higher than he’d ever been without climax. Crushing Farjika between their bodies, wrapping their arms around her to touch one another, added to the intensity. All his frustration and longing over the last season poured into her, filling her. Surrendering, Farjika dropped her head to his shoulder as their forceful thrusts lifted her off her feet. Dangling helplessly between them, she thought of herself hanging from the ceiling of their mansion. That image of her body bound by crimson rope pushed them over the edge. Together, they climaxed in a shuddering mass of muscle and bone, their mouths seeking as their hands clung, holding each other through the maelstrom. After what seemed far too short a time in the afterglow, they returned to reality. Errion was the first to slide out of her, his growl matched by a wince. With practiced finesse, he removed the condom and disposed of it within the dispenser. He buttoned up his trousers, straightened his shirt and brushed the wrinkles from his jacket. In a flash, he looked as if nothing had happened. Errion looked up into Lorren’s eyes. His smile was a slow spread of wickedness. “The night hasn’t even begun.” Lorren slipped out of her too, hating the loss of contact but warmed by the gleam in Errion’s gaze. This was just the beginning. But first things first. As Lorren made himself presentable, Errion helped Farjika return herself to rights. Her panties were a sodden mess on the floor, and rather than put them on, she had Errion slip them into his pocket. Lorren saw an image of other panties in his bedside drawer. He realized Errion had taken Farjika’s tiny little crimson panties after their tryst in his father’s study. His openmouthed shock was greeted with a shrug and a flippant, “We all have our little secrets.” “Not so much anymore.” Lorren tucked his shirt in, careful not to jostle his still-sensitive cock. “I guess not.” Farjika’s dress was a bit wrinkled, the bodice a bit moist, but nothing that would stand out too drastically. However, the smell of sex in the hall was pervasive. “Anyone walking by will know after half a breath,” Lorren said.
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“Who cares?” Farjika touched her hands to her hair, ensuring it was mostly in place. Errion stepped forward and tamed a few wayward strands. His hand lingered on her cheek. Turning his hand over, she kissed his palm and then lifted one brow as she licked the center. His pupils dilated and his chest hitched. “Like you said, the night hasn’t even begun.” Darting her gaze to Lorren, flashing him a mischievous grin, she added, “I too spent time thinking of what I would do with you.” Into her mind flashed images of their bodies entwined in such creative ways Lorren almost became hard again. When she twisted the scenario of him dominating her into her dominating the two of them, Lorren’s eyes almost popped out of his head. Back on Avalith, he’d imagined her as a dominatrix, but to actually bring that luscious image to life had him alternately excited and a little bit afraid. “I’m game if you are,” Errion said. One lifted brow asked the question to Lorren. “I think I could be persuaded,” Lorren said. “Provided I teach you the rules.” “It wouldn’t be any fun if it wasn’t safe.” She kissed the edge of his ear. The main doors swung open, and they all spun guiltily toward the man standing there. “Are you going to address the circle, Farjika?” She glanced to Errion, who nodded consent, then to Lorren. Without hesitation, he said, “I would be honored to be your consort.”
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“That’s it?” Errion glanced down at his empty hands. Farjika shrugged. “To make you both official consorts, all I do is state my wishes before the circle. It’s recorded and that’s that.” “I thought there would be a ceremony, like what you did with Gabriyel.” After watching what her mother had done, Errion was looking forward to putting on an amazing show of his physical prowess. He already had plans on how to best market their bonding images. “That’s for a bondmate.” Farjika saw the images of her mother flash in his mind. She threw up a hasty shield. “And as I’ve told you both, I can only perform that ritual once.” “Sorry.” Errion forcefully turned his mind off her mother. He understood how that could give Farjika the creeps. “There isn’t even a fancy scroll or anything?” Never one to hold with traditions, Errion felt bereft, as if he’d missed out on something vital. He’d never really envisioned his wedding day, mainly because he couldn’t see any woman allowing him to stand with Lorren at his side, but Farjika was different. She accepted both of them. Hell, she had another guy too. So why couldn’t he have his day? “Does it really matter?” Lorren seemed less concerned now that he’d assured himself that Farjika was indeed willing to indulge his need to dominate. “It matters to me.” Errion wanted to turn away, to hide his vulnerability, but he knew secrets wouldn’t last for long, not when they were all interconnected. “This just feels terribly anticlimactic. I mean, we sit in prison for a season, waiting for you, and then all we get is you making a brief statement and blam! We’re yours for eternity.” He toed the slick marble floor with his naked toe. “Hardly seems fair.” Farjika wrapped her arm around his waist, moving him back from the glut of people emptying out from the circle. “Then we’ll do something.” Somewhat mollified, he glanced around at the decadent splendor. “Something fancy?” She nodded. “I’d be honored to have my protocol liaison plan—” “No!” Errion shook his head. “I want to plan it.” Casting him a dubious expression, Lorren flashed several horrible pictures of the garish weddings they’d attended back on Avalith. Rolling his eyes, Errion promised, “I don’t want anything like that, nothing ostentatious, but something.” He sighed. “I just feel I need a ceremony to commemorate our relationship.”
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“Yes, a magical mystical bonding that bestows incredible powers on us and our mate just isn’t enough.” Lorren sighed, already bored by the idea. His thoughts focused exclusively on getting Farjika alone, and what he would do to her when he did. “Not for me.” Errion stood his ground. Farjika smiled as she kissed his scruffy cheek. “I think it’s sweet.” Errion met her gaze. “Do you think it’s a waste?” “No.” She straightened the placket of buttons on his shirt. “If you want a ceremony, then we will have one.” Hesitating, she narrowed one eye. “On Avalith, do you bond in the nude?” Errion laughed and flashed her images of the elaborate dresses and suits most chose for their wedding day. Farjika’s eyes went wide. “I have never seen such detailed costumes.” She shook her head. “There is a problem, though, in that I cannot wear white.” “Only crimson for you.” Errion looped her arm through his. “Not only would you look awful in white, but I understand that’s what acolytes wear.” Considering, he flashed her a perverted grin. “Although, that white robe you wore when you came to us does have several kinky possibilities.” “I only wore that to gain access to all of you,” Farjika said. “Not a soul on that ship would have stopped and questioned an acolyte. And I needed to strengthen our bond so we could connect no matter how far apart we were physically.” Lorren looped his arm through hers and they moved toward her rooms. Errion tried to memorize his way but Farjika insisted that he would never get lost. “First of all, you’ll have guards escorting you wherever you go, and they know the way. Also, I’m always just a thought away.” “What of Gabriyel and Javon?” Lorren asked, trying to hide his tension but doing a miserable job of it. His anxiety at having to share Farjika with not only Gabriyel but also now a child bordered on pathological. “They will be staying with my aunt for a few days.” Farjika kissed each of them on the cheek. “He thought the three of us needed some time to reconnect.” “And the hero strikes again,” Lorren grumbled. “Stop it,” Errion said, leaning around Farjika. “You know you’d be just as pissy if he wanted to stick around.” Farjika nodded to some guards who stood before two massive wooden doors. Bowing, they pushed them open. Farjika lead their group into her quarters. Everything was crimson with accents of black and white. Through her eyes and Gabriyel’s, Errion had seen her rooms, but somehow, seeing everything with his own eyes was entirely different. He thought his manor was something to behold, but this put his displays of luxury to shame. Everything was not only functional but also beautiful. Each item, from a
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simple chair to a casually thrown rug, was crafted of the finest materials. What stopped him cold, jerking both Farjika and Lorren to a halt, was when he looked up at the ceiling. There wasn’t one. Open to the sky, the space above her room showed a huge swath of azure with wispy clouds scudding by. “It’s beautiful.” Errion had never seen anything so impractical, so whimsical. He loved it on sight. It did, however, present a unique problem—how would he anchor his ropes for Fentaru? Farjika pointed to a discreet button on the wall near the now firmly closed door. “Pass your hand over that, and the glass panels will cover the ceiling.” “Good to know.” He nodded, but his attention was on looking for a suitable anchor point. “I thought it was winter again,” Lorren asked, peering upward, his mind working out the mechanical details of the ceiling. One of the ways Errion had kept him occupied was by presenting him with a host of mechanical problems for him to solve. When they returned to Avalith, they had a slew of new improvements for their robots. “It is winter, technically, but today is warm because tonight it will snow.” Farjika sighed as she too looked up. “The first snow of the season.” She captured Errion’s gaze. “Winter is late this year.” Holding his gaze, she pushed into his mind. Frowning, she turned away. Knowing at once what had caused her displeasure, Errion cupped her hand. “Not for always, but we do have to return. We need to find a suitable person to run things in our absence, someone we can trust as we live here.” She nodded, knowing the practicalities, but there was something inside her that broke at the thought of them going. “You realize that you, Gabriyel and Javon will have to come with us.” Her face brightened. “Did you really think we were going to leave you here?” Lorren hugged her from behind and Errion from the front. Squeezing her just a bit, they stood entwined as a rising wind whipped around them. “I didn’t know what to think.” “Why would I want an elaborate ceremony only to turn around and leave? Does that make any sense?” “No.” Farjika buried her face in the hollow between his shoulder and neck. “I guess I’m just feeling unsure.” Chuckling lightly, Errion pulled the decorative pins from her hair and dropped them carelessly on the floor. “You and Lorren were made for each other. No matter how much someone tells you or shows you how thoroughly they love you, you still think in the back of your mind that that person will walk away at the first opportunity.” Unable to deny the truth, she tightened her arms around him. “Eventually I’ll get over it.”
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“So will I,” Lorren whispered. “I think the best way for me to overcome my trepidation is with massive amounts of kinky sex.” “Oh, yes, that would help me too.” Farjika lifted her head and turned her neck to kiss Lorren. From sweet to selfish, they locked lips and dueled tongues. Each of them wanted to submit and dominate, which would make for thoroughly marvelous encounters. Watching them inspired new and creative forms of sexual torment to burst into Errion’s mind, but for tonight, they would indulge in the simplest of acts. What need did they have for accoutrements when everything felt new all over again?
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Chapter Thirty-Three
“Just once I’d like to go through a bonding ceremony where I wasn’t already pregnant.” Farjika considered the clinging crimson dress in the mirror. Walking down the aisle had been difficult, but she’d managed because the look on Errion’s and Lorren’s faces as she moved toward them made her sacrifice seem trivial. And despite the fact it wasn’t an official empress bonding ceremony, Lorren and Errion seemed pleased. Taking a moment to regroup after the lengthy ritual, Farjika turned sideways and examined herself with critical eyes. Ornate didn’t begin to describe the ruffle-infested, gem-encrusted monstrosity that Errion had selected. She loved him and loved him dearly, but the wedding dress was unbelievably garish. Sadly, she had to wear it throughout the reception. The lower panel cupped her still-flat belly, but she knew it wasn’t going to look that way for long. She sighed. Was she destined to spend the rest of her life moving from one pregnancy to the next? Not that she resented her children in any way. To the contrary, she loved Javon with a fierceness that was frightening, and already her next child, Lorren’s daughter, made her presence known. But with so many men and all of them so determined to fully mate with her… “You could try keeping your legs together,” Errion suggested. “As if that would stop any one of you.” “Right.” He smooched her cheek with a loud, smacking kiss. “We’d just bend you over.” Visualizing his suggestion moistened her panties. Again, she sighed. She couldn’t seem to wear a dry pair for very long before one of her lovers reduced them to a slick mess. She’d considered going without but didn’t wish to leave a stain on the back of her dresses. All three men suggested that whenever she got too wet, one of them would gladly mop up. Rolling her eyes, she rejected the idea out of hand. She’d have to learn to walk with one of them wedged between her legs. To her delight, Errion pulled off the excessive train of the skirt, making the dress more maneuverable. He also removed the trail of fabric from her head, which took pressure off her neck, and lightened her mood considerably. “Does anything else come off?” Her gaze concentrated hard on the ruffles that encircled her hips and bottom. “I like the way they plump you up.” His gleaming eyes rendered his statement unnecessary. The only time he’d stopped looking at her backside was when she’d marched up the crimson-carpeted aisle toward
Anitra Lynn McLeod
him. Once there, she’d had him on one side, Lorren on the other, and Errion had repeatedly dropped his gaze to her bottom. “My behind is generous enough without the help of three layers of ruffles.” She sighed and then laughed. “Stop thinking of me bent over and naked, Errion.” “I’m trying!” He tossed up his hands dramatically. “But you keep thinking of your ass, which makes me think of it too, and now so are Lorren and Gabriyel.” Peripherally, she felt both men smile and nod. Lorren had left to check on preparations for the reception that Gabriyel was busy looking after, giving her a moment alone with Errion. His pleasure at the ceremony was so great she felt her own heart lift. For a man who tried so valiantly to project disdain, he was remarkably traditional and deeply sensitive. “I know you don’t like the dress, but—” “I love you.” She cut him off. “I don’t care about anything else but that.” “Really?” Errion’s surprise drew her near. “And all I can think of is getting you out of it.” He reached for the zipper along the back. “Ah, ah, ah!” She pressed her hand against his chest, holding him off. “We agreed that we’d wait until tonight.” Having all three of her wild lovers together at once was a heady thought indeed. For the last few cycles, they hadn’t managed to get together all at once, what with their travel to Avalith, the demands of Javon, Gabriyel’s training of royal guards, and her continued diplomatic work. But tonight everything was ready. Determined, Farjika carefully planned the night. So carefully did she scheme that her backup plans had backup plans to ensure that nothing would interfere. Not that she minded the one-on-one encounters or even the two-on-one encounters. All that was wonderful, fulfilling, and extremely satisfying. But to have them all together at once… Swooning at the thought, she almost toppled on her heels, but Errion caught her about the waist. Pressing his lips to her ear as he nestled his cock against her bottom hard enough to penetrate the layers of ruffles, he whispered, “We’re looking forward to this night as well.” He nipped her ear. “So many plans for our luscious lady.” Floating through the party, accepting congratulations from people who passed through her mind in a blur, all Farjika could think of was nightfall. Elaborate entertainments and tables laden with treats barely penetrated her awareness as her gaze drifted from Lorren to Gabriyel to Errion. All so unique. All so dear. All returning her gaze with lustful intensity. But what caused her heart to skip a beat, then pound so furiously the thudding drowned out the sounds of hundreds of people celebrating in the great hall, was the impact of their unconditional love. Shining in their eyes and from the touches of their minds to hers, she knew the depth of their love for her. Each man had given greatly to be by her side. When she burst into tears, the guests attributed her
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heightened emotional state to the elaborate ceremony. Only she knew the realization that she was fully, deeply and eternally loved by three amazing men was responsible for her outburst. For a long time, Farjika strived to be different from her mother, refusing even the most basic interest by a man, because falling in love might lead to uncontrollable lust. How ironic that her uncontrollable lust brought the greatest love to her not just once, but three times over. Finally, the party drew to a close, and before she knew it, Farjika was alone in her room with all three of her mates. Working in tandem, they removed her dress, exposing her to surprisingly warm and heavily scented air. With steady hands, they placed her in a contraption that hung from the ceiling. They did this so quickly she scarce realized what was happening until it was too late for her to struggle. Not that she really wanted to. Baffled, she looked up and realized Errion had solved the anchoring problem by installing a metal bar that extended out from the wall. At the end of the hook, the slings for her upper back, bottom and knees descended. Clearly, they had spent a lot of time designing the sling, as the strips were wide and softly padded, allowing her to dangle at ease. She was helpless to move but cradled comfortably in her captivity. “When we’re finished, the slings come off and the arm swings back, discreetly blending into the wall.” Errion considered her position, running his hands up the inside of her thighs, testing the height of her body. Proudly he showed her that with a touch of his fingers, he could raise, lower or even invert her into whatever position he wished. As he said long ago, there was a curious freedom in bondage. Not having to make any decisions unchained her mind and allowed her the luxury of becoming a purely sensual creature. Having three very different and utterly dedicated men willing to attend to her every need was heady indeed. Moreover, she intuitively knew she was safe in their care. Exhaling a long, slow breath she grinned at three very aroused men with anticipation. Sensitized nerves responded to the touch of air upon her skin. Her breathing and heart rate accelerated, her nipples peaked, and her now bare and fully exposed sex grew slick. For a brief moment, she worried there would be confusion with so many people together seeking pleasure. All she’d done was ensure they would be together. She hadn’t allowed herself to think much beyond that, as the mechanics made her dizzy. “Relax, Farjika. We’ve worked everything out.” Errion’s voice lowered to that wickedly commanding tone she adored. While she dangled in her straps, Gabriyel, Lorren and Errion stripped off their clothing. Revealing themselves slowly allowed her to relax, settle in and anticipate the plans they had for her, because clearly, the three of them had handled every detail. Errion slipped between her legs with a smirk, lifting the edge of his lips. Flipping back a hank of blond hair, he pressed a button that elevated her hips and lowered her back, forcing her to grasp the straps
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under her arms. Gabriyel stood to her right, Lorren to her left. Simultaneously Errion smoothed his hands up her legs, from her knee to the juncture of her thigh, while Gabriyel leaned forward, kissing her with delicate nibbles, while Lorren cupped her breasts, teasing the nipples before pulling them with his lips and fingertips. The smoothly shaved edge of Errion’s jaw followed the same path of his hand, stroking up from her knee to her inner thigh. Once there he sighed as he traced his finger up and down her pouting nether lips. Softly, he whispered, “So wet, so wanton. We’ve only just begun and already your body trembles as you crave penetration.” Farjika closed her eyes, feeling his breath caress her body as his finger now made wide circles around the quivering ring of her passage. Her body felt weightless and free, her inhibitions gone along with any lingering fears. “Hungry and grasping, you anticipate having all of us, one after another, filling you. Stretching you. Pounding into this needy flesh.” Errion tightened the circle of his finger until he held the tip just at the opening. Slowly, Errion plunged his finger inside. “Tight and hot.” Farjika felt her passage grasping at his finger, desperately trying to pull more of his digit within, but she knew Errion’s torment had only just begun. Back and forth he teased his lone finger into and out of her depths, flicking his thumb across her clit. His motions were enough to cause her to move gently in the swing, and Gabriyel matched the rhythm. Reminded of her torment in the Fentaru ropes, she moaned into Gabriyel’s mouth. Growling back, catching the image from her mind, he continued kissing her in increasingly passionate ways. His lips were possessive of hers, his tongue plunging and flicking in mimic of Errion’s hand, heightening her awareness of his actions between her legs. Not to be left out, Lorren pressed her breasts together, flicking her nipples at that same leisurely pace, causing all her senses to overload. She felt at once her own body surrendering to their masterful touches, but also she was within them, sharing the link they had with one another. All of them strove to give her the greatest pleasure, and they knew just how fast, how hard, how deep because they read her needs by slipping into her awareness. Higher and higher she went until she floated right on the brink of a spectacular release. Errion pulled her back by changing the rhythm and having Gabriyel and Lorren follow suit. Her groan of denial caused all three of them to chuckle. “Not yet,” Errion cooed, altering her position. “Not yet, my lovely lady.” Lowering her to almost a horizontal position, he angled her back up just enough so that she could see him. Plunging his finger into her, he met her gaze. “Do you want more?” “You know I do.” She licked her lips, trying not to order him to give her his cock, because she knew if she did, he wouldn’t.
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Having caught her thought, Errion grinned and nodded. “I never did like taking orders.” Lowering his head but riveting his intense gaze on her, he murmured, “But for you, I’ll make an exception.” In perfect synchronicity, Gabriyel and Lorren slid their hands down to cup the backs of her knees, spreading her legs wide as they each took a nipple within their mouths. Errion stepped forward and plunged his cock within. Straps and the strong arms of Lorren and Gabriyel stymied her instinct to arch up. All she was able to do was gasp at the shock of going from painfully unfilled to wonderfully full. “Isn’t that what you wanted?” Errion pulled all the way out, leaving her feeling so empty inside she squirmed. Anticipating another rough plunge, she braced herself, but this time he slipped into her so slowly she moaned in pleasurable frustration. Unable to determine his pace, she closed her eyes, letting her head fall back. She simply allowed herself to feel everything without anticipation. While Gabriyel and Lorren held her steady, Errion thrust between her legs, his talented fingers flicking over her clit, keeping her simmering just at the verge of climax. Eager mouths teased her breasts, her neck, and the tender spot behind her ear. Letting her awareness flow away from the physical, she touched each man’s emotional heart. Gabriyel the hero, who took pride in his status but didn’t resent sharing her with the other men she loved. Lorren the master, who was finally able to accept his need to dominate. And Errion the romantic, hiding behind an indifferent exterior to mask the depth of his heart. Blinded by love, Farjika felt all of them as they teased and pleased her body, their touches careful yet passionate. In turn, each reached the pinnacle of physical pleasure, but what mattered more, far more, was reaching the very height of emotional gratification. Finally, at long last, they realized they were stronger together than apart.
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About the Author
Anitra Lynn McLeod has been writing since she was twelve. Creating unique worlds is her forte, combining unlikely genres such as historical, fantasy, futuristic and erotic into a steampunky—and steamy—brew. Reading, writing, and white-water rafting are the three things she enjoys the most. You can visit her at www.AnitraMcLeod.com,
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Look for these titles by Anitra Lynn McLeod
Now Available: The Fringe Thief Overlord Onic Empire Wicked Empress
Coming Soon: The Fringe Runner
Duty…or desire? It will take two men to answer that question…
Wicked Empress © 2011 Anitra Lynn McLeod The Onic Empire, Book 4 Bithia, newly crowned empress of Diola, indulges herself with as many men as it takes to satisfy her voracious passion. Now that it’s time to continue the family line, though, her advisors expect the unthinkable: for her to submit to one man from a sexually primitive planet. Drahka disobeyed his tribe’s strict sexual rules once. The shame still haunts him. He longs for a fresh start, but breaking one cardinal rule—a man gives, a woman takes—is not an option. His struggle to learn local customs is complicated by a mentor whose eyes hunger for the empress…and for him. Viltori is exhausted. He’s tried to teach Drakha that there many ways to find pleasure, only to be met with anger, even violence. Touching the handsome primitive only sharpens his unbearable lust for Bithia, making him wonder if execution for failure wouldn’t be a blessing. When Bithia witnesses the results of Viltori’s training, she realizes only these two men can fill her empty heart, inspiring her to take command of the throne at last. Except those who’ve held the reins thus far have a sinister reason for keeping Bithia—and her new consorts—in their place. Warning: This erotic romantic fantasy contains a lusty empress, a primitive alpha male, a dedicated acolyte with domineering tendencies, copious amounts of hot m/m and m/f/m sex, secret torments, burning desires clashing with duty, and a little bit of meddling by future gods.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Wicked Empress: Viltori settled into the softest chair he’d ever sat upon as he motioned for Drahka to sit across from him. For a long time they simply sat, using the furniture as a way to teach each other new words. Even in the unfamiliar room, they fell to their usual form. Point, ask, explain and repeat. Immersed in learning, Drahka was oblivious to the fact that his robe, unlike his trousers, did not stay closed when he shifted about. Each time Drahka moved, he revealed more of his hairy calves, then his thighs. Each time he celebrated his understanding, Drahka lifted the crimson fabric up higher, getting ever closer to the juncture of his legs. After grasping a particularly difficult word, Drahka lifted his hands in triumph, which wrenched his robe apart, exposing his hips, cock and both legs. Viltori tried not to gape, but the man was huge, hairy and, hottest of all, uncut. Most men on Diola, even those in the barbaric outer regions, were circumcised shortly after birth. Viltori had not known of the difference until he’d traveled to Oughun. As he stood with several other men urinating directly into a rushing stream, they’d excitedly pointed to his differentness. The Oughun men asked a hundred questions and Viltori hoped he’d answered them fully. Oughunian men had never seen a cut cock and Viltori had
never seen one that wasn’t. Culturally they exchanged much that bonded them together. Viltori knew Drahka was uncut, and he’d tried to tell Drahka that he should inform Bithia, but when he’d tried to show him this information, he’d lashed out. Oughnians had clearly defined taboos about same-sex touching of any sort. To his horror, Drahka noticed the direction of Viltori’s gaze. Before he could babble out an explanation, Drahka cupped his cock and asked, “What is wrong with my cock?” Lowering his head he said, “You tried to touch, to show me, and I tried to hit you. I’m sorry. Please now show me what is wrong with my cock.” Gulping, Viltori said, “Nothing.” Not a damn thing he could see, anyway. He’d like nothing better than to do to Drahka what Rown had done to him earlier. “What makes you think there is anything wrong with your cock?” “Bithia say something uncute.” After a moment, where he couldn’t imagine anyone, even Bithia, calling a cock cute or not, Viltori understood. “Not cut,” he said. “Uncut, not un-cute.” Briefly, he explained the difference between the two words, then tried valiantly to convey the meaning behind Bithia’s comment. Thrusting his finger at Viltori, Drahka demanded, “Show me yours that is cut.” Concern filled his stoic face as if he were genuinely worried that someone had cut up Viltori’s cock. Eyeing the door, wondering just how much longer Bithia would be gone and if she’d be upset about him teaching her consort this, Viltori moved to a seat that blocked him from view of the doorway. If she did enter suddenly, he could pull his robe closed before she saw what he was doing. Drahka seemed to understand the furtive nature of their discussion. Frowning, Drahka moved to the couch, sitting next to him. He eyed the door that was well over the high back of the couch. When Viltori parted his robe, showing Drahka his painfully hard, circumcised cock, Drahka leaned over. Breathing hard enough to brush hot air over the pounding length of Viltori’s cock, Drahka said, “You not cut.” Reaching out his left hand, Drahka wrapped his fist around Viltori’s cock. “No cut.” Lowering his head, placing his face a bare breath above the tip, Drahka bellowed, “Ah! Cut off tip!” Pulling back, yanking open his robe, Drahka grasped his own cock and tugged his foreskin. “Cut off tip, not cut up cock!” Proudly displaying his penis, Drahka considered Viltori’s for another moment, then grasped him again. Running his fingers up and down, hardening him further, Drahka leaned close again and asked, “When you were cut, were you hurt?” “I was a baby when they cut me.” He thanked the gods for that. He couldn’t imagine what having that done as an adult would be like. “You no feel pain now?” Drahka ran a fingertip along the faint circumcision scar that encircled the hardest part of Viltori’s prick.
“No, it doesn’t hurt now.” Of course, that wasn’t quite true. He was so hard and excited his prick truly did hurt. If not for Rown’s generous gift, he would have erupted all over Drahka’s hand. Drahka nodded, turning his attention to his own cock. “Mine hurts. Bithia’s servants scrubbed under the tip.” Viltori cast a wary eye to the door, than to Drahka’s hand-held prick. “Does it hurt now?” “Some.” Frowning, Drahka looked toward the door Bithia had exited. “She take twice, then suck once. Still I am excited thinking of her.” Nodding, Viltori asked, “On Oughun, do men seek solo pleasure?” Horrified, Drahka yanked his hand off his cock. “I not doing that, just showing!” “Calm down. I’m not accusing, just asking.” However, clearly by his response, the men of Drahka’s tribe did not masturbate. In a way, such a taboo made perfect sense. His tribe was relatively infertile. Each ejaculation was sacred and necessary for the continuation of his people. Self-fulfillment would be considered the height of selfishness. Not only had Drahka been a virgin when he’d gone to Bithia, he’d been relatively untouched. If he could have swooned, Viltori would have. Drahka was a blank slate. Anything he or Bithia taught him about their culture he would believe, accept and likely perform. Heady with the erotic possibilities, then cautioned by the ethical dilemma, Viltori reluctantly wrapped his robe around his body. Following suit, Drahka covered himself up too. “Is looking wrong?” “No, I’m cold. Did you want to see more?” Gods, why was he asking? He should let this matter drop. Drahka considered for a moment, then whispered, “Do you do solo touching?” Technically, he wasn’t supposed to, but then he realized he was teaching and letting Drahka watch him masturbate could be considered a form of education. Or maybe he was just desperately trying to justify doing what he wanted to do. “Do you want me to show you?” Viltori caught their reflection in a mirror strategically placed across from the couch. They made a wicked contrast: he in white, Drahka in crimson, his finger-length blond hair glowing, and Drahka’s long black hair gleaming. Drahka was bigger, broader, the silk of his robe caressing massive muscles below. Viltori was muscular too, but not like Drahka. In his tribe, Drahka had been a hunter, felling great beasts to feed the entire group. He also cut trees for their fires. Such hard labor gave him a remarkable body, one the elite would pay handsomely to mimic through surgical enhancement. Drahka nodded. “Show me solo touching.” Parting his robe, Viltori took his cock in hand, cradling his shaft with his dominant right hand as he cupped his balls with the left. “The trick is not to rush.” Gods no, he wasn’t going to rush. He wanted to enjoy every bit of this encounter. Desperately he prayed to the god of Harvesters that Bithia would not return until he was finished with his lesson.
Drahka watched intently for a moment, then parted his robe. He gripped his cock with his right hand and stroked, fumbling. “Use your dominant hand.” Viltori nodded to his left. Drahka switched to his left hand. Now his motions were sleek and exact, mimicking perfectly what Viltori did. “Slowly?” Drahka asked. “Faster would feel better.” “Stroke too fast and it’s over too fast.” Viltori had to summon the very depth of his will to continue with his measured, even strokes. “Solo touching is a way to learn to last longer when with a woman.” “Ah, that is good to learn. Bithia happy with longer lasting.” “Bithia will be happier with me lasting longer,” Viltori corrected automatically. “Bithia will be happier with me lasting longer.” Drahka repeated the words, then looked to him for confirmation that he’d spoken correctly. Viltori nodded, knowing full well his interest at the moment was not with Bithia’s pleasure. His gaze darted between his own hand, Drahka’s, and the mirror where he could see them both. Drahka’s body was big and covered in dark hair. Muscles flexed as he tightened his form to keep his mounting passion at bay. “Feels good,” Drahka said, squeezing his fist a bit tighter, causing his foreskin to move smoothly up and down his shaft, exposing the slick, dusky-red tip. Viltori thought he would climax right there. Drahka kept his gaze on Viltori’s hand, mimicking each motion. He followed along so exactly that when Viltori looked into the mirror he felt he was stroking Drahka’s cock. His mouth watered, desperate for a taste of him. Behind them, they heard a click. Their eyes met, widened, and they hastily jumped to their feet. Viltori had his robe down covering his prick in an instant, but Drahka struggled with the open ends and the tied sash. Before he could determine if the couch was high enough to shield him from Bithia’s view, she looked directly into his eyes through one of the mirrors. “Tell me, Viltori, exactly what have you been teaching my consort?”
Ever had one of those days?
The King and I © 2011 Opal Carew Celestial Soul-Mates, Book 1 Aria’s career fills the void that foster care left behind, and keeps her grounded in reality. But recently, steamy, erotic dreams make her think she’s working too hard. A free trip to a luxury resort is just the ticket. Until she’s ushered to a “VIP party” and abducted by an alien who insists she’s his king’s soul-mate. Love at first sight, let alone sight unseen, is a myth. Her increasing attraction to the ship’s captain, though, is weak-in-the-knees real. Captain Tai Gaman’s mission was simple. Kidnap Aria and deliver her to wed his twin brother, King Zander. It must be the sibling psychic link that’s fueling his own blinding desire for the Earth woman. As the ship approaches his planet and her sexual hunger reaches unbearable heights, it must be simple compassion that won’t allow him to let her suffer. One night leaves him stunned, facing an emotional choice. Claim her as his own, or fulfill his duty to the king. After a lifetime believing love doesn’t exist, Aria finds her hands full with the love of two men. And considering the possibility there’s room in her heart for both… Warning: This book is full of red-hot sex and smoking hot alien studs (and one studette), along with their human abductees who don’t mind getting it on with one or more partners. With or without an audience. Watching the heroine find love and the hero lose his heart may cause a strong desire to be beamed up.
Enjoy the following excerpt for The King and I: “You.” The uniformed woman pointed at Aria. “Come with me.” “We stay together,” Eva insisted as she stepped toward Aria protectively. “No, actually you don’t,” the woman responded. As the stranger grabbed Aria’s arm and dragged her to her feet, Terrien stepped in front of Eva, preventing her from rushing to Aria’s side. The uniformed woman led Aria to a door, which slid open as they approached. Aria glanced back to see her bewildered companions led out another door by Terrien and a couple of other uniformed men. Eva mouthed some words to Aria that she didn’t understand, then the door closed behind her. “Where are you taking me?” Aria couldn’t hide the quaver in her voice. “To meet the captain.” The woman’s heels clicked sharply on the floor as they marched along. “You should be honored.” Maybe she should be, but she wasn’t. In truth, she was frightened and confused.
Despite that, thoughts of her steamy, nighttime adventures stirred within her and a sexual buzz quivered through her entire body. A part of her hoped this captain was a tall, dark, sinister hunk who wanted to have his way with her. She trembled in anticipation. Good God, where is my brain? This is real, not some sexual fantasy. Yet she felt heat flush through her, hotter and hotter, as they progressed. They stopped in front of a door and her captor pushed a button beside it. A bleep sounded. “Send her in, Casey,” a deep voice said. The door slid open. “You heard the captain. Go on in.” Fear cooled her blood a little as Aria stepped through the doorway, peering ahead of her to see a sitting room but no captain. The door swooshed closed behind her. She stepped farther into the softly lit room, which looked like private quarters. A big, comfy-looking armchair and couch occupied most of the room. Not exactly how she’d pictured a spaceship. “Welcome.” A rich baritone voice came from her left. A tremor rippled along her spine. She spun around. At six foot four and all muscle, he was the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen. His dark, slightly wavy hair brushed his shoulders and his silver-gray eyes glittered like moonlight rippling on water. Her heartbeat accelerated at the sight of him. He would definitely be the star of any sexual fantasy. Her insides seemed to melt into a pool and her vagina tightened. Good heavens, she had to get a grip on herself. This man had kidnapped her! “Who are you?” she asked. “I’m Captain Tai Gaman. And you are Aria Jenkins.” He pointed to a chair. “Sit.” She perched on the edge of the chair, keeping a wary gaze on him. He strolled to the couch and settled onto it, his masculine aura filling the room. “I’m sure you’d like to know why we’ve brought you here.” “Yes, please.” With her hands folded in her lap, and her tight, prim words, she must look like a schoolgirl summoned to the principal’s office. She noticed her hands trembling, so she clasped them tighter. “Relax. I’m not going to bite.” Warmth emanated from his smile. Relax? Was he kidding? She stared at him with wide eyes, waiting. He leaned forward slightly. “There is a power in the universe that takes a hand in our lives—we call it nata’tai. It provides the means to keep us healthy, as individuals and as races. To stay healthy, a race must grow. It must embrace other cultures. It must open its gene pool to other races, otherwise it will stagnate. Physically, emotionally and culturally.”
A shiver raced down Aria’s spine. Had she and the others been brought here as breeding stock? Were they to provide genetic material to keep his race healthy? Nausea tightened her stomach into a quivering ball as she imagined herself chained to a bed, a trail of men lined up to impregnate the alien female. She imagined him first in line, his mouth capturing hers in a passionate onslaught, his naked body compressing her breasts tightly against his chest. She felt her cheeks flush and she tried to drive the thoughts from her mind as she concentrated on his words. “As a race matures, nata’tai gives its people the ability to sense their tanash’ae—what you would call their soul-mate—even over great distances. To ensure a mingling of races, nata’tai directs the spirits of tanash’ae—soul-mates—to be born in different races on different planets.” “Are you trying to tell me that you’ve brought me here because you think I’m one of these tannashays?” She sucked in a breath. “Do you think that you and I…” Her finger flicked between them. “That we are…soul-mates?” He raised an eyebrow. “Would that be a problem for you?” No, a voice inside insisted, but she ignored it and sucked in a breath. “Yes! Of course it would. I don’t even know you. I don’t intend to marry a man I don’t even know.” He flashed a devil-may-care grin. “Who said anything about marriage?” “Oh, I see.” A blush crept up her cheeks. “When you said soul-mate I assumed you meant, you know, love and marriage.” This was all too much for her. The reality of the situation was finally sinking in. She didn’t even want to think about what he actually meant. That image of the chain and the bed swept through her brain again and not as an attractive fantasy this time. Her head sagged forward as tears pooled in her eyes. “Aria, I’m sorry. I was teasing you. I’m not your tanash’ae.” “Then why—?” “Your tanash’ae is our king.” Her head jerked up. “I’m supposed to marry a king?” “Does the thought appeal to you?” “If I believed you, which I don’t, I would be honored, of course. It’s like a fairy tale, in a nightmarish sort of way, but I’m not going to marry some stranger on another planet, king or not. I don’t want to leave my family and friends behind.” He leaned toward her, his silver gaze piercing her delicately maintained composure. “Aria, you don’t have a family. You were separated from your mother at a very young age and she refuses contact with you.” She felt as though he’d stabbed her heart. The pain of long, lonely years in an orphanage, then a group home and foster care, slammed through her.
Of course, anyone would understand why her newly widowed mother might decide to give up her young baby when she barely had the resources to care for her other four children. It had been the responsible thing to do, given the situation. Supposedly, she’d wanted Aria to have a better life than she could provide—but wasn’t being surrounded by brothers and sisters and a parent who loved her a much better choice than leaving her all alone in the world, rejected by the one person who should love her no matter what? Logic dictated that her mother could not have truly loved her. Aria stiffened her back against the debilitating pain, refusing to meet the man’s gaze. “I don’t want to leave my world behind.” He leaned toward her, his hands folded between his knees. “If he weren’t a king, you could have negotiated where you’d live. Our home world or yours. But in this case, nata’tai has given you no choice.” No choice. Déjà vu or what? She knotted her fingers together and sighed heavily. “Will I be expected to have sex with this guy?” He smiled, kindness lighting his eyes. “That’s usually what two bonded people do.” She glared at him. “Why do you think I’d have sex with a strange man after being abducted?” He smiled broadly. “You mean, you’d have sex with a strange man if we hadn’t abducted you?” She stared at him blankly. She couldn’t believe it. This alien captain was teasing her. Alien. Oh, God. Although he looked quite human, he was an alien. A man from another planet. She felt trapped. Fear and pain built inside her as she realized this was really happening. This man— this alien—had kidnapped her and intended to drag her untold light-years from Earth. She was being torn from her home, again, regardless of what she wanted. All the tension that had been building in her ever since she’d taken that strange elevator ride curled around her chest and tightened painfully. Dizziness overwhelmed her and breathing became difficult. Everything went black.
