For The Wicked (Fantasy Heights) (5 page)

Right on time, Ben came through an opening next to the maze. Behind him entered two pairs of guards, each escorting a struggling female client. The two women wore crude homespun bikini-style tops and short wrap skirts. One prisoner had longish, frizzy blond hair. The other’s was short and dark.

Amanda waited until the clients were secured to the racks. They faced one another in the swirling, flickering fog. The effect lent surreal light to the set. Not bright. Rather disorienting but plenty enough that their clients would be able to see every single thing Ben did to the other.

Out she went to join them, careful to keep on the pathway. She slowed once the captives caught sight of her approach. Both women froze momentarily, and then began to struggle worse than ever as she came level with the spinning centerpiece. Something else flickered: a memory of her, Josh and Neil, and her first experience with double penetration. Later on, long after Amanda had left this set, both captives would discover it for themselves, courtesy of Ben and the guards.

Ben came to attention, standing arrogant as a gladiator. He acknowledged her with a nod. “My queen.”

She froze him with a withering glance before transferring her attention to the captives, approaching them slowly and allowing her eyes to linger at their breasts and the hems of those ridiculously short skirts.

After circling first one and then the other, she paused very close to Ben and spoke in a voice fit to give him frostbite. “Did you recover the book?”

Ben stood up a hair straighter. “No, Highness. Both the captives have been thoroughly searched. They did not respond to questioning.”

“Perhaps you should be more aggressive. Would you like to be more aggressive?”

“Yes, Highness. Please. Use the spell.”

She began to whisper vaguely Latin-sounding gibberish. Ben closed his eyes and swayed slightly. She raised her right hand, fingers spread.

With the other hand, she pressed a button on the remote hidden in her other hand. On came the black lights. There were only two short bulbs affixed to the top of the racks, but they had a far-reaching effect, making anything white glow like a beacon, along with a mess of symbols painted all over the set.

Creepy. Very creepy. She swept the back of her fingers over Ben’s forehead: his cue to open his eyes.

When he did, for a second she forgot they were on a set. His eyes glowed like golden fire, and she might have gasped a little, right along with their guests.

At least she remembered her final line. “Punish them.”

She settled into a chin-raised, haughty pose to watch Ben work. He picked up a dagger and approached the dark-haired captive first. To begin, he traced the sharp tip of the dagger across one side of the bikini top. There he drew a circle. The client’s nipple stiffened visibly.

While he repeated the motion on the brunette’s other breast, the girl stayed silent. Her breath came in deep, shaky pulls, as her other nipple responded quickly behind that scratchy fabric. She made a writhing motion with her hips when Ben traced the dagger point up her breast. He paused with the knife tucked behind the right strap. A quick motion with his wrist cut the string in two. The flap of crude fabric flipped down, freeing her breast.

Ben immediately dipped his head. He sucked the nipple into his mouth. His captive flinched and cried out in surprise.

Right. Ben liked to bite sometimes, and Amanda felt an envious twinge in her own nipple and between her legs.

This time, Amanda watched the other captive’s response while Ben turned his attention onto the first client’s left breast. He cut the bikini strap, exposed another nipple, and bit that one, too. The other captive was riveted. Pupils dilated, breath shallow, slight sheen of sweat forming on her skin. Totally into it.

Assured the fantasy was on track, Amanda felt a distinct warmth take hold inside when Ben slipped the tip of the dagger beneath the bikini string that went around the woman’s ribs. Another quick motion and the bikini top was done away with completely.

He then traced the dagger tip down the woman’s belly. Amanda caught herself holding her breath, waiting for him to begin cutting away the skirt and exposing more flesh. He hesitated a moment, but continued downward, over the skirt and finally tracing along the woman’s inner thigh.

Their client blew out an even shakier breath. Amanda could sympathize. Especially when Ben, who was by then hard as a rock, stepped back to roughly remove his loincloth. Amanda and both clients stared outright at his cock as he made his way to the other rack.

He repeated the entire bikini routine on the frizzy blond before returning to his first captive. Now he slipped the tip of the dagger beneath one side of the wrap-skirt’s waistband and cut it apart first on one side, then the other before yanking the fabric away.

This time, Amanda felt much more than a twinge as Ben sent his hand between the woman’s legs and began to bang her. He lowered his head to suck a nipple while he did it, and the client let out a sound that raised Amanda’s temp another notch.

He let them all enjoy the punishment for only half a minute or so. Not nearly long enough before transferring his attention back to the blonde. Again, he repeated his actions, varying nothing as he cut away her skirt and sank his fingers between her legs.

It was interesting to Amanda, watching the way the clients responded. They were eager for everything, enjoying everything. Enjoying watching the other be pleasured almost as much as being pleasured themselves.

Amanda wished she wasn’t enjoying it quite so much. She could feel herself growing wet. This was the only thing she didn’t like about supporting-cast roles on sets like this. No relief for the wicked.

Amanda was so caught up in the show that she didn’t notice Max when he first appeared. He had to shake her elbow to get her attention. He whispered that she was needed in the throne room.

She wanted to swear, but kept silent out of deference to their clients. Max led her through the greenroom and down into the tunnels, hustling her straight through to the sound-stage building and up the stairs. They emerged a few doors shy of the throne room entrance.

Thomas stood waiting, and for a moment, Amanda didn’t know what to think. His features were bland. That didn’t change once Max had made himself scarce. And while her body slowly began to burn itself alive at the thought that perhaps Thomas might have a minute to put out some fires, she struggled not to get her hopes up.

She began to wonder if something bad had happened that afternoon when Thomas took her elbow and led her down the hallway. He paused at the Moroccan room door to swipe his keycard.

On the verge of asking what he was doing, she was glad she’d held her tongue once he’d hurried her inside. She had only time enough to register a few additions to the room. A canopied, draped bed occupied one corner. The throne, facing away from the door, dominated the center of their room.

Next moment, she was up against the door. Thomas put one hand to her throat, holding her in place, firm but not tightly enough to hurt, eyes adhered to her mouth.

His other hand forced its way between her legs. He traced his fingers along her slit, and applied pressure to part her labia. She heard a hitch to his breathing when he felt how wet she already was. The breath leaked out of him, and he let go of her throat to kiss her instead, reaching down to grab her behind one knee and lift.

With his way now clearer, he sank his ring and middle finger into her pussy. She opened her mouth against him, overwhelmed by the force and intensity of his invading fingers. The first few thrusts were not gentle. So good. He knew that scene in the quad had her appetite wide awake, and he was not afraid to take full advantage, skipping the warm-up in favor of aggression.

On her part, she loved that she didn’t have to be coy. Finally, here was someone who matched her appetites. And she loved that the first thing Thomas did upon seeing her again was follow-through on her fantasy from the conference room. Right now, she was not in the mood for tender, intimate fulfillment. Right now she wanted him to be commanding and rough, to satisfy a savage need to be penetrated and possessed.

She began to rock her hips. He almost immediately stopped thrusting to hold still and let her ride his fingers.

He kissed her again, parting her lips while the pressure forming around his thick fingers began to warm and swell into a sugared ache.

She pulled back. “Oh, God, Thomas. I’m gonna come.”

“Yes, you will. Many times, tonight.”

He changed tactics. He cupped his hand and began to stroke up and down inside, applying pressure to that spot just above her pubic bone. The small, slow strokes caused a deep bloom of heated sensation that turned everything south of her navel into quaky greed.

He brought her right to the very edge, and then hardened his hand once more to drive his fingers in deep and hard. Once. Twice. On the third forceful thrust, his fingers hit a hot spot of nerves. Bright, intense pleasure broke open and she came on his hand.

When she could think again and realized he hadn’t done his usual bit, finger-fucking her ever harder to make her come repeatedly, she began to wonder what he meant by ‘many times.’ They were in their Moroccan room, after all. And heaven only knew what sort of mayhem he might have dreamed up to carry out here tonight.

He barely gave her time to recover. “We need to get that armor off. It’s cool to look at, but I want my Amanda.”

She’d forgotten all about the wraith armor. A few moments’ careful peeling was all it took to free her from the helmet. The rest was mostly small appliques.

Before they could start on those, Thomas gave her an order. “Undress me.”

She didn’t question him. Whenever he came up with a plan for something, she always ended up enjoying every second. She knelt to untie his boots. While he stepped out of them, she stripped off his suit coat and engaged in a fair amount of scorching, intimate eye tag. After unbuttoning his shirt, she kissed his right collarbone, and then smiled at the charged sound of his exhale.

She got down onto her knees to work at his belt, taking care to be rough with the tugging. When she glanced up at him, she found him with one brow raised into a wry angle, and a smile cutting along one cheek.

“I know, I know,” she said. “Horrible sub.”

The wry look softened. “Do you think that actually matters to me? I like playing the master once in a while because it turns you on. Mostly, I just want to be with you. Be around you. Be together.”

She stood, and reached up to cup his face. She knew what would happen before it even started. Sure enough, she watched doubt and worry take hold and start pulling Thomas back inside himself, as if he feared he might have said too much.

She could sympathize. She didn’t know what would happen between them, or how things might play out with Josh and the job or anything else, but she knew one thing. She would not let him regret being brave enough to speak his emotions aloud.

“I feel the same way. You are way more to me than a gorgeous man and a source of amazing sex. I love that you’re loyal, and that you struggle to do what’s best. And I just… I love you. Period.”

And now the breath-holding begins, she thought, watching his reaction. She wasn’t sure what reaction she’d expected to her rather rambling affirmation. What she got was a silent, searching look that she interrupted by kissing him again.

He didn’t have to say anything. She didn’t need him to. She could love him, even without his permission. If nothing else, she was glad she’d finally told him.

Before she’d quite cleared her head, Thomas, in typical Thomas style, took over the kiss, sank his hands into the hair at her nape, but only so that he could pull free of her.

“Stop,” he said. “You don’t have to let me off the hook like that. I don’t think I could ever explain what it means that I can even feel this way. It was like you brought the sun back. Brought some life back into life. Nothing else matters as much as that.”

She was then carefully kissed as if he were trying to underline the important parts of what he’d just said. She followed along as best she could, feeling humbled and lucky and cherished, all at once.

She finished undressing him, returning to her knees to bring his boxers down, and of course spending a great deal of time seeing how far she could take him into her mouth. But before things could get too out of hand, he hauled her back to her feet.

“Armor and body paint,” he reminded her. He took her into the bathroom. In the shower, he helped to peel off and collect all the little pieces, and scrub away all the paint. Then it was back out to the main room. Thomas pressed buttons on a remote until the video panel inside the faux fireplace showed a log fire. He turned on some soft music they both liked, and then sat on the throne and made her lie across his lap, belly down.

“Relax,” he told her. “Watch the fire.”

She let Thomas steer from there. He began by rubbing oil onto her back, simply massaging and soothing, lulling her into a nice warm haze. He moved on to her arms, then the back of her thighs, giving her bottom a light smack when she took advantage of some stray oil to sway gently against his erection.

“Not yet.”

“Yes, sir.”

He made a low sound in his throat and let his hand slide over her left buttock. It became more difficult to relax as he began anew with the oil, using his palms, warming and igniting. Teasing.

He moved on with one more smack. “It’s almost time. Get up.”

“Time for what?” She crawled off him, watching his face, waiting for an answer.

“You’ll see. Turn away from me and stand with your feet a little bit apart. There, okay. And now bend over.”

She whimpered, wondering what havoc he could wreak on her senses in this position. She obeyed while he slid forward on the throne to run well-oiled hands over her buttocks before moving toward the center.

Bent over this way, she was spread wide for him. He put his thumbs to work, massaging the tight muscles around her anus. Smearing the oil. She hummed out a note of pleasure. He used a gentle, light touch. Perfect for a nice, slow build.