Wicked Empress: The Onic Empire, Book 4 (12 page)

Placing his massive hands on either side of her sex, he pushed her legs apart, exposing the tender pink inside her glory. With Viltori’s words flowing over him, encouraging him, he lowered his face and slipped his tongue inside Bithia. She tasted salty yet sweet, unlike anything he’d ever known. He discovered he loved the unique and succulent flavor of her sex even more than the floral flavor of her skin. Once he started plunging his tongue within her, he didn’t want to stop.

A long, low keening noise, like an animal caught in trap unable to find freedom, came from her chest. He realized Bithia knew she was lost. Once he mastered this skill, she would do his bidding, just as she did for Viltori. Each time they were together, Drahka learned new ways to give to his chosen. As he continued to lick and suck at her delicious flesh, he wondered if one day he would know all there was to know. On that day would he become bored with his chosen? Would Viltori go when he’d taught Drahka all he knew? Both thoughts panicked him, taking away his joy, so he dismissed them, determinedly concentrating only on pleasing Bithia in this moment, in this way.

“That’s it, Drahka, thrust your tongue inside her.” Viltori again used the Diolan words, and he timed them with Drahka’s motions.

Words and actions combined until Drahka felt the power of both. Joining Viltori, echoing the words between thrusts of his tongue, sent Bithia into excited, breathless moans.

“Lift up, take her straining clit into your mouth.”

Drahka did so, feeling the smooth hardness with the rough side of his tongue. His pride soared when Bithia made that noise, that noise he’d never heard a woman make until Viltori pulled it from her body, but this time she made it for him, for what Drahka was doing to her. Flicking his tongue over her clit, he sucked and teased until her chest rose and fell so rapidly it was as if she ran from him. Placing his hands upon her hips, he held her down, showing her clearly he was her master, and she would never outrun him.

Bithia surrendered with a high-pitched moan of submission that swelled satisfaction throughout Drahka’s body. She climaxed hard, her cunt gushing against his chin, her clit hiding away from the flicking of his tongue.

Unable to resist any longer, Drahka yanked her to the edge of the bed, ready to give to her as hard and as fast as he could.

“Wait,” Viltori urged in Drahka’s native language. “I know how badly you wish to be inside her, but turn her to her belly first, as she was today.”

Bithia’s eyes met his. Both were the same translucent blue. Lowered lids tried to hide her curiosity at what Drahka would do.

When her lips parted, as if to order him, Drahka flipped her over before she could speak. So abrupt was his action, Bithia had no breath. Her rounded bottom quivered as he pushed her up the bed and climbed behind her. Vulnerable, exposed, Bithia let Drahka and Viltori maneuver her into position. Eventually, Bithia was facedown against Viltori.

Viltori bent his knees, placing them on either side of Bithia’s hips, helping to hold her for Drahka. Placing his cock against her creamy sex, Drahka hesitated, watching what happened as his teacher cradled his chosen.

Cupping her face to his, Viltori kissed her softly, murmuring that she was now their captive and they would not let her go until they were satisfied. However, he spoke not in her language, but Drahka’s. Still, Bithia squirmed restlessly with her bottom up high as her lower body pressed against Viltori.

“Now Drahka. Feed your cock into her slowly.”

Sliding his cock up and down the wetness of her lips, he settled against the entrance and pushed forward, using his hips. When a surge of need tried to force him to hurry, he closed his eyes and determinedly held back. Bit by bit he slid inside, her heat welcoming him, her whispered words sounding of surrender and appeasement.

“Do you like that, Bithia? Tell Drahka how much you love his cock. Tell him how good he feels inside that tight, wet cunt of yours. Tell him you want more of him, all of him, you want to feel him slam into you so hard he takes your breath away.” Viltori said the words slowly into Bithia’s ear, but he kept his gaze on Drahka. Watching as Drahka kept to his even pace of slowly filling Bithia. Feeling her glory as he looked at his teacher’s face sent his senses reeling. Confused by his longings, he closed his eyes, focusing all his attention on Bithia.

Once he filled her, his cock hitting the very depth her body could take, he rocked back, pulling almost all the way out before he slammed back in. Viltori held her for his aggressive movements, encouraging him with more powerful words said in both languages. When he reached out to hold her hips, he felt his teacher’s knees and held them too, as if he held both of them for his giving. Below their weight, the bed gave in time to his movements, bouncing them with his powerful thrusts. And then his balls slapped against his teacher’s hand as Viltori teased Bithia’s clit. When she came, she released a moaning scream, and clamped around Drahka’s cock. As he released into her, Viltori cupped his balls, teasing him, making his climax even greater. Shivering against her, Drahka opened his eyes, but all he saw was a gleam of triumph on Viltori’s face.

Chapter Twelve

Still hard, Viltori held Bithia as she recovered from Drahka’s wicked thrusts. The man had enough power in his body to light a small village. It took her locking her hips and Viltori’s knees cradling her to keep her steady as her bondmate slammed into her. Lifting his hand to her creamy clit sent her into a screaming orgasm that clamped her cunt around Drahka. Viltori knew the precise moment when it happened by the look on Drahka’s face; pleasure so intense it practically bordered on pain.

Viltori had to struggle to reach his sac, but he did, pleased when Drahka did not bellow for him to stop. Feeling the power of his balls lifting his climax into Bithia had almost pushed Viltori over the edge. Almost. But what he’d said to Bithia was not just words said in the heat of the moment. He meant what he’d whispered into her ear as she laid panting against his neck.

Once she caught her breath, she moved away from them and rolled onto her back. Stretching out along the bed, she sighed and closed her eyes, a satisfied smile on her face. None the worse for wear after having been soaked, she actually looked much better without her hair carefully coifed. Wild and tangled, her short black hair spiked up from her head in tousled, sexy disarray. Her dress was probably ruined, but she didn’t seem to care. Amazing how one good orgasm could mellow the empress into languid ease.

Drahka fell back on his heels, his eyes closed, his long hair barely mussed. No doubt he was replaying everything in his mind and regretting it. Viltori sighed. Why couldn’t Drahka simply accept that he desired both a man and a woman? Viltori had accepted it with ease, although, to be fair, he had not been reared in a culture that punished such relationships.

“As little as I want to, we must attend the bonding celebration.” Bithia sat up with a sigh, her breasts swaying gently as she moved off to the basin room after summoning a large group of servants.

Everything Drahka had stripped off they put back on him. Despite his struggles, they encased his cock in the dreaded
echalle
. Viltori watched, understanding why he disliked the garment; however, he had to say it did have the desired effect. The
echalle
lifted his cock up and out, placing it on display for the envy of others. Viltori certainly felt envious. Not that he was lacking in that area, but he would enjoy knowing Drahka’s cock was not just for Bithia’s pleasure, but his too.

Viltori puzzled over his outfit, trying to understand the meaning of the colors. Drab brown pants indicated his station as a servant, but a white shirt proclaimed him an acolyte. His boots were brown and simple, just like the trousers. The fabrics were of the highest quality but he wasn’t certain what this particular combination of colors would say to the elite.

Encased in another clinging crimson dress, Bithia moved toward him with a red sash draped across her palms. She wrapped the
astle
around his waist, tying a knot above his right hip.

“This shows you belong to me.” She gave the sash a tug, yanking him close so only he could hear her whisper, “If I catch you with anyone other than myself, I will have you put to the stone.”

Meeting her gaze, he whispered back, “I meant what I said, Bithia. There is no other for me but you.”

“What about Drahka?” She glanced back at him over her shoulder, then returned her gaze to his. “I see how you look at him.”

“I want him too, but only if I am with you as your consort.”

A quick roll of her eyes said she did not believe him. He didn’t expect her to, not yet. She would have to see for herself that what he’d sworn to he would hold to, even if it killed him. As she’d clung to his shoulders to brace herself for the powerful thrusts of her bondmate, she’d encouraged Viltori to lift up and spend himself by rubbing against her belly. Viltori flatly refused. He swore he would not climax until he was inside her. Bithia shivered as she met his gaze but in her eyes, he saw her disbelief. She didn’t believe him because, of course, he could not penetrate her unless he was her official consort.

Viltori knew what he’d done was crazy. Bithia could claim him if she chose to, but why would she? She only needed him to help train Drahka. Once that was finished, his usefulness to her was at an end. As soon as she gave Drahka and the people of Diola a daughter, she could return to her wicked ways, sampling every man on the planet without repercussion, or any kind of commitment. Why would she bind herself to him when she didn’t have to?

Still, he’d spoken from the heart. He wanted to be with her and Drahka. A formal declaration was the only way he could have them both. He was willing to suffer to reach his objective. Not that he hadn’t already suffered. Getting aroused and letting his cock return to normal without climaxing had started a slow burning ache in his balls. Still, there was something powerful in holding back. As Rown said, there was satisfaction in knowing he’d greatly pleased the two people he cared about the most. Before he would find pleasure for himself, he would have their commitment to him. They couldn’t just say they cared; he needed them to show they cared.

Bithia brushed off her servant’s attempts to style her hair or replace her washed-away makeup. Instead, she motioned Drahka forward. He came with ground-eating strides, his boots booming against the white tiled floor. Dressed all in red, he seemed taller, somehow, bigger. Especially in the mostly white room. Bithia’s servants had pulled his long hair back and tied it with a strip of red leather. Drahka was the only man Viltori had ever seen with long hair who didn’t look feminine. Actually, his long hair made a striking contrast to Bithia’s short locks.

From below a length of decorative fabric, Bithia removed a gem-encrusted sword that glittered under the crystals.

“I’m sure there is some great ceremony and certain words I am to say, but I didn’t listen to Undanna when she gave me instructions, so…” Bithia held out the sword. “This is the Sword of the Empress. I give it to you because if ever there is a war, you will lead the palace guards into battle.” She considered for a moment. “I’m supposed to say something about this making you my protector, the father of my children and the defender of the empire.” With that, she attached the sword to a thick belt that hung low on Drahka’s hips.

The reverence that glowed from his face would have been almost funny on any other man, but Drahka took the gift very seriously. “I will defend the empire,” he said, his voice solemn. Lifting his face, he looked right at Bithia. “I will protect you.” He bowed to her. “And I will happily father your children.” A film of tears glittered in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. Clearly, though, he was touched by the symbolic meaning of the gift.

Bithia smiled. “You certainly are taking care of the last part. I’ve never known a man so eager to produce children.”

Viltori tried not to make a comparison between his sash and Drahka’s sword, but it was difficult not to. Drahka’s sword gave him power where Viltori’s sash took away all his rights. A sword was a symbol of dominance and strength, a sash was a symbol of submission and powerlessness. Bithia had deliberately put the sash on him herself, because she could have let the servants do it, but that would not have ground his face in his worthless position. As she turned from Drahka, she caught his gaze and smiled mischievously.

Viltori smiled back, lifting one brow up higher than the other, twisting his face into a smirk of contempt.

Bithia’s confidence faltered into confusion. With a huff, she turned on her heel, giving him her back. Her crimson dress plunged down almost to the split of her bottom, yet covered her everywhere else. Never had he seen a more provocative dress. Between her outfit and Drahka’s, he couldn’t decide who was more alluring. Together they were a stunning couple that all on Diola would envy, especially him.

No matter how badly what she had done to him hurt his pride, Viltori would never let her know. Even if his face froze into a mask, he would smile all throughout this celebration and forever afterward until he again had Bithia and Drahka in bed. Once there, they would all realize who the real master was. Viltori could survive his self-imposed celibacy if he had the rich, exhilarating power of commanding them into ecstasy.

Surrounded by palace guards, the three of them walked along wide hallways, Viltori ten paces behind, until they came upon the Room of Ceremonies. Every color of the elite made up the mosaic tiled floor, but tables and chairs decked in crimson dominated the color of the room. A clear spot in the center was obviously reserved for dancing. Men and women clad in deep jewel tones sat at the long tables eating, drinking and gossiping. All mouths closed when the empress and her consort entered.

Forced smiles and half-hearted cheers resounded as the entire room rose to their feet. Bithia nodded to the left, the right, then lifted Drahka’s hand in hers. Another brief round of bellowing approval rang false to Viltori’s ears as he stood in the doorway, waiting. Once Bithia and Drahka were seated, he was ushered behind.