Princess of Lust (For the Love of Evil) (10 page)

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Authors: Ann Mayburn

Tags: #For the Love of Evil - Book 2

BOOK: Princess of Lust (For the Love of Evil)
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She probably would have hit him if Kirin hadn’t pinned her arms to the table, holding down her upper body while her hips rolled and bucked against him. The immense pleasure burst inside of him and he shot stream after stream of his seed into her, pulling out at the last moment to cover her ice-numbed clit with his warm semen.

Panting, his knees about to give out, Raum stumbled back to his chair and slumped into it. “Kirin, clean your mistress.”

His princess and concubine made a glorious picture together as Kirin eagerly ate his seed from her cunt, lapping and sucking at her soft flesh with a greed that bordered on violence.

“Please, please, please,” she panted out. “Please, Raum...please, Master.”

Joy mixed with the fading euphoria of his orgasm, and a deep satisfaction of her acknowledgement of his dominance. “Make her come, Kirin.”

The words had no sooner left his mouth than Natalia screamed her release into the room, the sound of pleasure echoing beneath the domed ceiling. The sexual frustration rolling off Kirin was painful, but they’d been together long enough that he knew exactly how much he could push his concubine. A small puddle of viscous fluid darkened the floor beneath his concubine as he fought back his orgasm, unable to stop the small, involuntary releases of liquid arousal.

Natalia came again, her pale legs wrapping around his concubine’s sun-browned shoulders. Kirin began to shake and Raum lazily stroked his hardening cock. One of the benefits of serving the Court of Lust was remarkable recovery time.

“Stop.”

The other man immideatly drew back, revealing her swollen flesh.

“Kirin, on your hands and knees before me, but turned to the side so I can see your profile. Natalia, there is an object in that silken pouch. Take it out and use it on my concubine. Make him come from being fucked by you.”

She gave him a truly wicked smile and his cock jerked in response. She pulled out a thick ivory phallus from the pouch, along with a small jar of lubricant. Kirin flinched like a startled horse as she slid behind him, but as soon as she began to apply the lubricant he groaned in frustration. One of Raum’s favorite things was to watch Kirin have his release from simply being fucked, and right now his concubine was aroused enough for that to happen.

Whispering softly to the dark-haired man, Natalia slid the phallus past the first ring of muscles in Kirin’s anus and Raum groaned. The memories of all the times he’d been taken into the other man’s body mixed together in his mind and he sent that thought to Kirin who pushed back onto the phallus with a shout. Three quick strokes and his beloved concubine’s back arched as Natalia pressed her breasts against him and kissed his spine.

The other man was a work of art as he ograsmed, his cock flushing red and thickening before the first milky ropes of semen spilled out onto the floor. Each blast of seed drew a groan from Kirin and he thrust his hips into the air as if fucking a willing body. Natalia fondled his balls as she gently withdrew the phallus and wrapped it in a napkin before setting it onto the table.

Kirin lay in a panting heap on his side, his slowly softening cock still leaking fluid from the tip. Tossing her long hair over her shoulder, Natalia strolled across the room in a seductive sway that brought Raum’s cock back to life. As she came closer, he couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to watch her fuck Gregor like she did Kirin. Then she sank to her knees before him and rested her head on his thigh. Deep contentment settled over him as Kirin roused himself enough to crawl over to him and wrap both of them in his arms, happiness warming the air around them with all the comfort of a thick blanket on a cold winter’s night.

Raum caressed them both and began to contemplate how he could get past the thick walls around Gregor’s heart.

 

 

Chapter Seven

 

 

With her heart pounding in her throat, Natalia’s hands shook as she held her hair so Owena, Eline’s concubine, could finish securing the tiny buttons going down the back of her emerald-green gown. The full skirt of the dress flared around her hips, and she had been surprised that for once the material wasn’t diaphanous. Instead, it was a heavy velvet that shimmered in the light.

It would have been modest by demon standards if not for the way it was slit up the front with the material pulled back almost to the tops of her thighs, to frame her legs and expose them. The bodice of the gown wasn’t much better, once again giving the illusion of modesty with its high neck and long sleeves, only the gold dragon skin made it look as if the material were painted onto her body, showing every bump of her nipples as they tightened beneath her gaze. Tiny emeralds attached to the dragon skin sparkled with her every breath and matched the elaborate emerald-and-gold tiara perched atop her head.

She pressed a hand to her stomach. “I think I’m going to throw up.”

Owena snorted and Natalia could see her reflection in the floor-to-ceiling mirror of her dressing room. The strawberry-blond woman knelt at her back as she finished the last of the tiny buttons, working all the way to the rise of her buttocks. “You better not. It took us over an hour to get you into this gown and make sure all your surprises were well hidden.”

Natalia gently fingered one of the emerald-tipped spikes of her tiara and made sure not to slice her finger open on its razor-sharp edge. Three of the elegant spikes of the headpiece could be pulled out, and once the jewel was taken off the tip, each made a formidable weapon. Beneath the edges of her skirt were hidden two poison-tipped daggers. Various protection spells were woven into the fabric of the dress and the green-enamel bracelets around each of her wrists contained a healing salve. An emerald ring on her right ring finger contained a spell that allowed her to speak via a protected psychic link with anyone she held hands with. As she contemplated her outfit, she couldn’t help a small smile at the realization she was dressed for battle with her displayed body as her greatest weapon.

With a sigh, Owena stood and came around to her front, putting a few dabs of a rose-colored stain on her lips with a steady hand. “Do you remember the names of all the princes and ambassadors?”

Natalia groaned and went to rub her eyes before Owena smacked her hand away to keep her from smudging the kohl lining them. “I think I remember most of them.” Owena made a disgusted noise, and Natalia glared at her back as she put the cosmetics away. “There are over two hundred princes! I have no idea which ones will be selected to meet me at the ball and there is no way I’ll remember them all.”

Gregor’s deep voice came from the doorway and rubbed against her soul. “Don’t worry. I’ll remember them for you, Mistress.”

Owena smiled as Gregor came in, but Natalia’s attention quickly focused on her concubine as her breath caught in her throat and her nipples hardened to aching points. “Oh, my.”

Dressed in a pair of soft brown suede pants that left nothing to the imagination, Gregor’s exposed upper body had been lightly dusted in a glittering golden paint that highlighted his thick build. Small clamps were attached to his nipples and a single uncut emerald jewel hung from each. His dark amber hair with its red highlights had been carefully brushed and a thin line of kohl outlined his slightly tilted eyes, giving him an exotic appearance. Her collar gleamed around his throat and a possessive pride surged through her that this magnificent creature was hers.

Dark desire flared in the depths of Gregor’s rich brown eyes as he slowly let his gaze travel over her. “When we are done with this foolishness tonight, I hope my mistress will grant me the favor of letting me take her just as she is.” His nostrils flared, and he took another step toward her, his delicious lust making the world sharpen around her as her demonic side drank the energy he so freely offered. “Tell me, Mistress, are you wearing undergarments beneath that skirt or will I be able slide into your slick heat unhindered by any delicate scrap of silk guarding your wet cunt?”

Owena kissed him on the cheek and gave his butt a pinch, making him jump and break eye contact with Natalia. “If you make the princess sweat and ruin all of my work, I’ll be very irritated with you, Gregor.”

He laughed and swatted Owena on the bottom while Natalia went over to one of the dressers, trying to get ahold of her runaway libido. All she could think about was the way the gold paint covering his body would rub off on hers as she rode him to completion. It was a tempting thought, to hide away in their rooms of the palace and spend the evening thinking of new ways to torture Gregor in the manner he’d grown to enjoy and crave, even. He once explained to her that in her bed, submitting to her, he’d found the only place in the world where he didn’t have to be in control, the one place where he could trust someone to take care of him completely.

Sliding open one of the top drawers of the dressers lining the walls, she took a deep breath as she lifted the glittering gold chain from its bed of violet silk. Complex links made up the length of the chain and caught the light like tiny mirrors. She slipped the black-furred loop of the leash over her wrist and carefully held the length in her hands before turning to face Gregor.

She didn’t want to do this, didn’t want to push him to wear the leash, but she had to. Since he’d started studying with Galina’s coven last week he’d become a different man, more relaxed and happy than she’d seen him in a long time. Even though he couldn’t perform any magic yet, she recognized how important being in control of his life was for him, and now she was going to take some of that control away by forcing him to wear her leash. God, she hated the complex rules of demonic society and concubines, but she was as much a prisoner of the rules as he was. Letting him walk around unleashed would appear as a weakness to the other demons, and she could not afford any signs of vulnerability. So for both their sakes, she had to bury her wish to make Gregor happy in favor of the need to keep him safe.

He’d gone still while she retrieved the leash and while his face gave no hint of his emotions, she could feel a bitter taste of his revulsion through their bond. In the mortal world, he’d been a leader among men and still projected the utter self-confidence that came naturally to him. While he enjoyed submitting to her in the bedroom, he still found it difficult in public, and at the ball they would both be the focus of thousands of eyes.

The muscles of his shoulders stiffened as she approached and he almost took a step backward, but held his place. This was a vast improvement over the first time he’d been made to wear her leash in public. His rage had exploded, and he’d trashed one of her sitting rooms, never hurting her but demolishing everything else in his path. Owena hovered next to him, her gaze darting anxiously from Natalia, to the leash, and back to Gregor.

Natalia held the leash. “Gregor—”

His words came out in an angry, clipped tone. “Just put the fucking thing on me.”

Owena made a growl of disapproval, but Natalia shook her head. She had to establish her control over him so that she could rely on him to act his part as her concubine at the ball. If he displayed any of his usual arrogance and temper, she could almost bet on someone starting a fight with him just to hurt her. She could not give an inch on making him obey her, not now. “No, I will not give you the honor of wearing my leash. And it is an honor, isn’t it, my concubine? Beg for it, and I will allow you to come with me tonight. I need my strong, capable concubine at my side, not an angry man I can’t trust at my back.”

A fine tremor ran through his body, and his anger pushed against the barriers around her mind. “You can trust me. You know that.”

“Then prove it to me. Ask to wear my collar and know if you do you’ve promised to be on your best behavior. That means no fighting with anyone, no matter how much they provoke you.”

He flushed and gripped his hands into fists. “I’m not a fool. I know what we’re up against tonight.” He took a deep breath. “Please, Mistress, may I wear your leash?”

The metal fastener snicked into place as she secured it to his collar. She toyed with the lion’s-head link that attached the leash to his gold collar. “Thank you, my concubine, for doing this for me. Be still.” She sauntered backward until the leash was stretched taut between them. “Place your arms behind your back and don’t move.”

With a curious lift of his eyebrows, he nodded and gripped his hands behind him, accenting the heavy muscles of his chest. Using her fingertips, she pressed on two separate places on the leash around her wrist, triggering the buttons hidden within the ebony fur. Golden razor blades sprang out from the links of the chain, turning it into a formidable weapon. Gregor let out a slow breath and smiled at her, a fierce pleasure radiating from him.

She smiled back and looked over at Owena. “Show him where the pressure points on his end of the collar are.”

After a few minutes of experimentation, Gregor had it down enough so he could work the razors on his own. “So if I press here, the razors come out on your end of the leash, giving me enough room to keep from slicing myself.”

She nodded, and as the razors retracted back into the leash, she stepped close enough so she could feel the heat of his body against her. “Only use it if you are in dire need. No ‘accidentally’ triggering it around Raum.”

Gregor snorted a laugh and for once didn’t take a dig at the other man. “Raum is the least of my worries tonight.” His dark gaze found hers and a hint of pain moved through their link. “Belal’s emissary will be there…I….” He went to touch her and stopped before he smeared her with his gold paint. It held the dual purpose of making his body appear like a living statue and showing where anyone touched him against her wishes. He was off-limits to anyone but her and she used the paint as a bold statement to show she meant it. “I can’t help but think of what he’ll tell my father and grandfather about me.”

Natalia made a soothing sound in her throat and nodded at Owena as she left the dressing room. “They’ll see what I see. A man strong enough to survive the transition to Hell. Strong enough to become the concubine of a demon—well, half demon—princess, and strong enough to face them without shame or fear.”

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