The Breaker's Concubine (8 page)

her bracelet and watched him roll his shoulders as the magnets holding him to his posts turned

off. He tensed and took a step toward her, freezing when his collar buzzed a warning.

“Clean me,” she said in a low voice. He radiated lust, which was good, but the savage fuck

his gaze promised would undo her. All that male power and need focused on her; it made her feel

at once helpless and powerful. In an effort to remind herself he wasn’t hers, she added, “Crawl to

me.”

He stood there, trembling. His gaze locked on her pussy, and he began to pant. “I hate

you.”

“Crawl.” His words hurt, and she cursed herself for being such a fool. This was only their

first day of training and already she was breaking a dozen different personal rules. Barriers that

had been carefully built through training and self-discipline were crumbling before a man who

hated her.

He sank to his knees and slunk across the grass, his big shoulders flexing with a contained

power that warmed her blood. She gave his collar a warning buzz and made him halt before her.

Amusement flared in his eyes, and she had a moment to wonder if he knew her torment. Before

she could tell him what to do, he moved lightning quick and buried his face between her thighs.

She intended to push his face away from her for his insolence, but she found her fingers

curling in his hair instead as his broad tongue lapped at her. A rumbling purr rose from his throat

and vibrated through her body. Teeth nipped at the hood of her clit, then moved away, his tongue

circling around that sensitive nub of flesh but not making contact.

She tried to center herself, to regain control and instruct him on what to do. As if he

needed any help. He pleasured her with a skill that left her breathless. She gripped his hair,

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holding him closer as he grasped her hips to keep her still for his mouth. She struggled against

him, stiff beneath his hands and fighting the pleasure.

“No,” she whispered and sighed as his fingers dug into her hips. The slight rasp of his

stubble against her thighs brought a shiver of delight that raced down her spine. Dimly she noted

his arousal increased as well. The air was thick with his pheromones, and each breath filled her

body with a new rush of heat. Dangerously addictive. No wonder off-worlders were forbidden as

concubines. Wars would be fought for this kind of pleasure.

A small jolt of fear cleared her head enough for her fingers to fumble to her bracelet and

give him a shock. She scrambled away from him and tried to ignore the hurt look on his face as

she arranged her skirts around her legs.

“Why do you run?” he asked and deliberately licked his lips.

Her hungry gaze followed the tip of his tongue, and she cleared her throat. “This isn’t

about my pleasure.”

Sitting back on his haunches, his cock stood thick and proud from between his muscled

thighs. Oh Gods, would it feel good to straddle him and ride him until they both passed out.

His lips quirked in a mean smile. “Well, it certainly isn’t about my pleasure.”

She lifted her chin as she smoothed the folds of her gown in a nervous gesture. Her body

clamored for release, and she widened her stance to keep her thighs from rubbing together. This

was going so horribly wrong. He should be the one sweating and begging right now.

Devnar took in a deep breath, tasting her musk and want. She had slipped back into her

role as a breaker, but for a brief moment he had seen the soft woman who lay beneath all that

black leather. He knew she wanted him badly. Her little pussy was terribly swollen and hot,

melting into his mouth in a delicious taste that went straight to his core.

“Of course this is about your pleasure,” she protested. Those unusual eyes flickered

between his face and groin.

His cock throbbed with the beat of his heart, dying to be soothed by the heat of her cunt.

The memory of the way she’d ground herself against his face, seeming to fight her own body’s

reaction, hardened him further. “If it’s about my pleasure, then come over here and ride me.” He

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stroked his hand over the head of his erection, squeezing a drop of precum and spreading it over

his shaft.

The hem of her gown shivered as she crossed her arms and gripped her elbows. “You

haven’t earned that privilege yet.”

“Really?” He stood slowly, trying not to spook her. Gaining her trust was important, the

first step toward his escape. And he must escape; he must not let himself be seduced into this soft

and pampered life. His men were counting on him to rescue them, and he had sworn revenge

before the Goddess.

If he had to submit to her demands in order to soothe her, he would. Yeah, that was it. He

was only manipulating her for his own escape. The sooner she writhed beneath him, milked his

cock with her body, screamed his name, and wore his scent, the sooner he would be off this

damned planet.

Even he didn’t believe that lie.

He turned his wrists out so the metal cuffs gleamed in the sunlight. His shoulders dropped

as he relaxed and let the heat he was feeling enter his voice. “What do I have to do to earn the

right to take you? Didn’t my mouth please you?”

Confusion and need flashed across her face, but her chin lifted higher. She certainly felt

more comfortable in assuming the dominant role, even though he knew it wasn’t what she

wanted, what she needed. It might be best to let her think she had the upper hand…for the

moment. “Yes, for an untrained barbarian, you did an adequate job.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Adequate?” The memory of the way her body had danced beneath

his mouth made him smirk.

“Yes.” She tilted her little chin in a superior expression, but the nervous stroke of her

bottom lip with the tip of her tongue betrayed her. Those amber streaks in her brown hair shone

in the light, and her skin glowed like alabaster above the unrelieved black of her gown. He

wondered if her nipples were as pink and responsive as her pussy.

He stalked toward her, and she trembled as he approached. As he stood a breath away, he

again marveled that such a tiny woman could have such a big presence. She stared at him, her

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pupils dilating with desire. He wanted to pull her close and break through her barriers, strip her

down until the passionate woman beneath all that leather begged for him.

He tried to remind himself that she was the enemy. He should punish her, make her sorry

she had ever seen him. She was here to train him like a lapdog for some other cunt’s pleasure. If

he let her bond him, he would have to kill her. His mind rebelled at the thought, and a sharp pain

punched into his heart. His instincts demanded he take care of her, soothe her obvious sexual

need to make up for even thinking of harming her.

“Let’s see if my hand does any better.”

“Wha—”

He spun her around and pinned her arms to her sides. She struggled against him, and he

groaned into the silken mass of her hair pressed against his lips. “I paid attention to what you did

when you touched yourself for me.” Her body softened against him, and her thrashing became

more of a test of his will than his strength. Moving one hand down the front of her dress, he

slipped his fingertips between the slit of the skirt and brushed his palm over the curls guarding

her mound.

“No,” she moaned and ground her little backside against his cock. She could have used the

collar at any point to stop him, and he took her omission of this fact as her silent permission to

continue.

Greedy for her, he circled her clit with one finger, spreading her moisture over her swollen

labia. “But if I don’t show you what I learned, then how will I ever improve?” He tapped once

directly on her clit. “Oh, that’s right. You said something about how you’re not supposed to

come with me.”

“Forbidden,” she whispered. A tremble shook her body, but she parted her legs for him.

Her small hands reached behind and fumbled for his cock. He considered denying her

access, but he craved her touch as much as he wanted her orgasm. To force her to come when

she didn’t want to appealed to him on a base level. If he could force her to come, to make her do

something she at once wanted and didn’t want to do, he would be proving himself as her

dominant. He would be the one with the power to bring her mind-blowing pleasure. It was his

first taste of control after his capture, and he chased after it with a ruthless desire.

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43

“That’s it,” he purred and scissored his fingers around her clit. From watching her, he

knew she liked rough handling. Her body responded to him like a fine-tuned instrument, her clit

poking out of its hood and begging for his touch. Goddess, she felt good, so soft and pliant.

“Please stop.” She gave a breathy scream as he sank his fingers into her heat. The tissues

of her inner body were swollen with need and burning hot.

“I’m here for pleasure,” he reminded her with a mocking tone. “And my pleasure is for

your body to clench around my fingers while you orgasm.”

Her grip tightened around his cock, sending sparks of delight through his body. If she kept

that up, he was going to spill himself all over her back. He added a second finger and increased

his rhythm, trying to find that sweet spot in her body that would have her shattering for him.

“Do you like this?” he asked and chuckled as her body gripped him. “Oh you do. You like

me being in control.”

“No.” Her breath hitched, and a tear hit his forearm where it pressed against her small

breasts.

“Liar.”

Her body shuddered, and her delicious scent intensified. His sac drew tight, and he felt

himself trembling on the brink of orgasm. As the stroke of her hand increased, she arched her

back, trying to take as much of his fingers into her body as she could.

He struggled to hold on, to keep from fucking her tight fist. Little groans escaped her as

she squeezed and pulled on him with an expert grip that had him throwing his head back.

With a swift move, she sank before him and took him into the heat of her mouth. He buried

his hands in her hair and delighted in the silky texture. She shouldn’t be doing this; he should be

the one making her come. She opened her throat for him and swallowed his entire length.

Now it was his turn to try to pull away, to try to fight her hungry mouth. Her skill and

passion trapped him as surely as the collar around his throat. She wanted his seed, and his body

was all too willing to give it to her despite the protests of his mind. She swallowed hard, and the

muscles of the back of her throat massaged the head of his cock, which sent him over the edge.

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With a roar, he emptied himself into her mouth in long and hard spurts. The world turned

black as the strength of his orgasm tore through him. He was
bonding
with the woman at his feet.

Even as the pleasure built and rebounded to new levels, he tried to fight his reaction.

Licking his still-hard cock like a sweet treat, she gave a throaty hum that reminded him of

a well-fed kitten. He pulled himself from her mouth and glared down at her. As much as he could

glare with his body still shuddering as hormones rushed through him, rewarding him for pleasing

his mate. She stared at him with a dazed expression on her beautiful face.

“Whore,” he spat out with all the anger he felt for his own weakness.

She flinched but didn’t move or respond. Her pupils were huge, the blue and brown rings

of her irises the thinnest sliver of color. What was wrong with her?

He took a quick step back to put some distance between them to clear his mind. The

aftershocks of his release still echoed through his body, and his instinct demanded he take her

again. That he fuck her over and over until she was satisfied. Instead he turned his back on her.

Her voice, at once smooth and rough, scraped over his raw nerves. “You will be fed. Then

we will see if you can earn the right to take me. Get ready for a fight, Prince.”

Cold and harsh, her words held none of the warmth she had displayed while being trapped

in his arms. He cursed himself for his weakness and kept his back turned so she couldn’t see the

reaction his body had to her words. His cock swelled with anticipation, but he knew the instant

she left the garden because he began to soften. He clenched his hands into tight fists as his cuffs

locked together in front of him, and tried to hate her as a servant led him from the garden and

back to his prison.

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Chapter Five

Devnar closely examined the three closed doors before him with interest. Each was made

of solid black metal and no different from the other in size or shape. As he flared his nostrils, he