by Treva Harte
Domini forced herself to breathe naturally. They were erect. The sight of their two hard cocks, already swollen for her, made her tremble inwardly. Males were the most exciting creation in the world.
“Attend me.” She tilted her neck to one side.
“Mistress.” Crispus took the heated oil from the brazier, testing it on his own palms, before he put the first few drops on her neck. He smoothed it against the pulse in her throat.
“My lady.” Hawke knelt before her, beginning to slide the oil into the arch of her foot.
Crispus knew what was happening to her. His body rested hard up against hers, exciting and comforting. She let herself lean against him, let her legs go a little weak with the sensations. Hawke’s hands held her legs steady as he worked his way up her body.
Her men. Her protectors.
“Hurry.” She mouthed the word softly.
Hawke gave a strangled cry at her order. Crispus grunted a refusal. “Soon, my goddess. But not yet. We need to worship just a little longer.”
She trembled again, unable to hide her reaction.
Crispus stroked oil against her breasts, letting a few drops trickle against her nipples ‑‑ his fingers almost as warm and exciting as the heated oil. Hawke’s fingers were now against her inner thigh, his mouth close to her pussy. Close, very close.
She could command them to hurry. Instead she said nothing, but let her head rest back against Crispus’ chest. His heart was beating almost as fast as hers. She spread her legs further, silently leaned forward. Crispus made sure that warm oil filled her cunt, then her ass, setting her even more awash with heated liquid.
Hawke’s tongue followed where Crispus’ fingers had been, licking the trickles of oil, then teasing her clitoris, just as Crispus’ large hands covered both breasts. Sharp, hot lashes of need streaked through her from several parts of her body. Domini set her jaw tight, forcing herself not to cry out.
But she wanted to, desperately.
Hawke broke first. With a harsh cry, he stood, cupping his balls.
“Pleazzze?” His voice was almost unrecognizable, his hiss fierce. His face was taut with lust.
Silently, Domini reached her fingers up against her clitoris, probing inside her channel. Hand wet, she stretched her palm out, stroked Hawke’s cock with the mingled wetness of oil and her own juices.
“Do as you wish,” she said. “Just be quick. And rough.”
Hawke held her hips as he slid inside. She gasped, gripped him hard. But Crispus didn’t stop. Warm oil flowed inside her anus as Hawke began to steadily thrust in and out of her pussy.
Domini leaned forward again, her hands tight on Hawke’s shoulders, giving Crispus access to her rear. One finger slid within her asshole as Hawke’s cock pressed up against her clitoris.
Domini writhed, still silent. Still needy. Another finger slipped in, stretched her even more slightly apart.
“Do it, Cripus!” Her voice was still strong. Years of giving orders kept it that way. But inside she was ready to beg. She couldn’t ‑‑ she mustn’t. Not even to these men.
But Crispus knew not to wait. The slight discomfort as he probed his fingers against her anus disturbed her briefly, then the strong slide inside almost made her weep. She was full. Complete. Two men, stretching and worshipping her.
Her breath was short, desperate as they worked together. Having fingers inside almost, not quite, touching the cock moving at her front pushed her up higher, more fiercely than other pleasures. She’d had sex with more than two men at a time but this was her own personal preference…her own true delight.
Hawke was moaning with each thrust, his push inside deeper and more frenzied with each surge forward. Crispus’ harsh puffs for air were tickling against her ear. Almost. Not yet. Almost. All of her body, even her toes, tightened. Still not yet. Hawke’s scream and then near collapse after he came only made Domini even more desperate.
She bent over, clinging to Hawke’s sweaty back, now bent over her feet.
“You. Crispus. Finish it.”
“How, lady? How do you want it?” His gasping words made her shiver. Crispus no longer controlled was an aphrodisiac, the key to her own loss of control. “Anything. Any way. Dearest mistress, just hurry.”
How did she want it? She was wet and aching and ‑‑
“My cunt. My cunt still aches for a cock.” For your cock. She didn’t say it out loud, not in front of the exhausted Hawke. Not even in front of her most beloved husband, the one she cared for above all the others. She shouldn’t want him in particular. “You saved that cock for my pussy.”
She did want him. His fingers alone were wonderful, but not enough. Never enough. She craved his cock, too.
The depth of her own depravity shook her again. All these years, all the skill of other husbands, and she still wanted him above all others. Domini turned, pulled him closer to her.
“Just be quick.” She bit his ear after she whispered the words to him, desperate to show ferocity as well as need, mastery as well as desire. Just…desperate.
He obeyed her in a rush of red-hot strength. Her eyesight blurred as he rammed his cock, finally, deep and full inside her pussy. Red energy swept over her body. Her wired-tight tension broke with his first thrust, the flood of released pleasure washing over her.
“Ah, blessed, merciful mistress! Ah, Domini.” He muttered it like a prayer or a curse, slapping his wet skin against her own, releasing contact for the briefest of seconds, only to return, more eager than before.
She was starting to climb again, sharp and jagged shocks of need riding her. Domini clawed at Crispus this time. How could he do this to her, time after time? Dearest pleasure, did it matter, just so long as he could?
“I can’t --” His voice rose, almost to a howl as he broke, his body racked with shudders.
“No matter.” She was already tumbling into her second climax, all-encompassing, soft, sweet comforting pleasure wrapping around her. Swirls of green and blue circled around her as she sank into happiness. “Always…right. You are.”
Always.
* * * * *
“What is everything?” Ara asked. “You said you’d tell me.”
“You will be Lady of the House.” Quinn swallowed what felt like rocks before he said the words. “You will have our whole family to command and to serve you. It will be our greatest honor to give our lives for you. Just as we will give our bodies to you.”
“What do you mean?” Ara sat there on his camp bed, looking rumpled and confused. Her breasts rose and fell with her breath. She was heavy-lidded and sleepy, probably exhausted from their last mating. Sacred Name, he wanted to just topple over her, push her down and fuck her for a third time.
Quinn clenched his fists. He couldn’t make that choice. If she was going to be his wife, he had to make them both understand that. Everything they did, from now on, was under her command.
The little hellcat would probably be overjoyed once she realized what power she held. He could imagine her orders now.
He’d enjoy showing her how dangerous it was to order an aroused man to ‑‑
No. She was to be his Lady. He would show her what a proper marriage was. Then she’d present herself to the family as the only logical choice for wifehood. His mother would have to approve.
“Explain yourself.” Her tone sharpened.
He wanted to kiss the sharp out of her voice until she purred and moaned for him. No. He mustn’t. She was behaving the way a Lady of the House should.
Quinn squared his shoulders. Teaching Ara the rules would be more difficult than he thought for both of them. “Exactly, Ara. Lady Ara. That is just how you should conduct yourself with me.”
She looked suspicious. “You would have laughed at me a few minutes ago for ordering you about. Come to think of it, you haven’t answered me. Is this some joke?”
Only on him. She’d make a fine Bellizan woman. He was the one who needed to be disciplined into being a proper husband.
“No. In my country, a wife commands. Her husbands obey. That’s how it should be. How it must be. There are so many of us and a woman is so valuable…if you engage yourself to my House, we would treat you as a wife. I would treat you as a wife. I swear it.”
“Oh. That sounds…husbands?” Ara blinked. “Not just you, but more like you?”
“My brothers and I. Our House. We would serve you and you would care for all of us.” Curse all of them. His brothers were too young, too foolish--they’d never deserve Ara. He’d never let them touch her.
“All? At the same time?”
“That would be as you wished, Lady.” He’d kill them first. “It would be your choice how you cared for us.”
“H-how many brothers?”
“Three right now. But sometimes we have kin join our house when their own women have no way to care for their men.” Quinn imagined Jaxxson slobbering over Ara. He was the next oldest. Old enough to have a woman. Too immature to appreciate her. “Most of my brothers are a little…young yet. You would get to help train them before you bed them.”
“Are they ‑‑ Goddess, are they all like you?”
More jealousy flared. She actually sounded interested. Quinn knew his hands were clenched tight. Flame it, it was good. Interested was what he needed. “I’m a half-brother so, no, they don’t look much like me. They look like real Bellizans. Do you think you could bear that, Sylvanian?”
“I didn’t necessarily mean in looks. I meant their natures.”
“My mother calls me willful beyond belief and that no one could match my temper. Is that what you mean?”
“I suppose I do.”
“I don’t know about the others since I haven’t seen them for a bit ‑‑ well, they’re younger. Probably they’ve had less time to form bad habits.”
“So I’m to train them.” Ara looked thoughtful. “To please and obey me?”
He’d kill all of them. Perhaps not Ara. He’d just tie her up and ‑‑
“Just so, Mistress.”
She smiled. “You don’t obey me now. And your brothers won’t understand my language if I want to give orders.”
He didn’t trust that smile. But he had to learn to trust her, just as she must trust him. He had to learn. “I’ll teach you to give orders in my tongue. And I would obey you if you were my wife.”
“In and out of bed?”
“Of course.”
“I don’t believe you, Quinn.” His cock began to pulse, hard, as if he’d never emptied himself in her today. Witch. Once she learned what power a wife had over her men, she’d be uncontrollable.
“Should I show you?” He could control her though. He’d already proven that to them both. She’d cried for him, pleaded.
“Yes.” Ara began to unfasten the bodice of her dress. “I think you should show me exactly what you mean.”
Sacred Name, he mustn’t try to take the lead here. Not here. Not now. Quinn fought to keep himself steady. Having a woman, this woman, to obey in bed would be difficult.
His wife.
He pulled off his clothing. Ara stayed as she was, her bodice half-undone, her breasts almost but not quite out of her dress. Why did her almost-nudity make him even harder than before?
“Now what, Quinn? What do you want to show me?” She reached out, stroked his stomach.
His abdominal muscles clenched, waiting for more. His cock jumped. Ara laughed and took her hands away from his body. Torture. She was going to torture him.
He lay on the bed, put his hands under his head and smiled up at her.
“My hands are bound unless you bid me use them, Mistress. Do what you wish to me. Tell me and I’ll obey.”
“This is a trick…isn’t it?” Ara looked almost frightened. Her lips trembled. Then she crouched over him, letting him peer inside that dress. Quinn could feel the sweat trickle down the small of his back. Every sinew was aching with the effort of restraining himself.
“No, it’s not a trick. This is your life, Mistress. If you choose it.”
“If I choose to do this?” Her hair brushed his chest, tickling, inciting, enflaming. Her mouth kissed his navel. His body jerked. He kept his hands where they were. And he bit the inside of his mouth hard.
Her giggle against his skin made him inwardly swear. She kept slowly, slowly, inching down. She was trying to break him. To make him flip her over and bury himself, balls deep inside her. He could imagine her flesh, soft and quivering, as he pushed into her.
Witch. Her mouth circled the tip of his cockhead. Quinn’s eyes crossed, he knew it. Beautiful witch.
“Do you want me to take your cock in my mouth?” She murmured the words against his shaft. The vibrations caressed him, made him desperate for more. He couldn’t demand more. Couldn’t.
“Of course, Mistress. But it’s your…choizzz.” He forced the words through his lips ‑‑ right now trying to remember to speak in any language, much less one not his own, was unfair. “Pleazzze! Just that way.”
Her tongue laved the smooth top of his cock. Then sharp little teeth nipped and he thought he might pass out. He had to hold himself back. Had to.
“What else do you want, Quinn?” Her hand squeezed his balls. “All you have to do is tell me.”
He was going to die. Die from lust. “Not for me…to tell. You…” He gasped. “What you will.”
There was another hard squeeze on his testicles. Not enough. He felt his hips rising off the bed and slam down again. Did other women do this to their men? Did either of them live afterwards?
“If what I will is to step back, that is all right?”
Quinn opened his eyes. Ara was crouched over him, face to face now. Little sparkles of gleaming gold and silver crackled around her. Bright mischief. Quinn felt a small spark of laughter still left in the whole bubbling lava of lust and frustration churning inside him.
“What do you think, Lady Ara?”
Ara laughed and straddled him. One smooth, slick move and he was secured inside her body. Warm red haze billowed around them. Quinn moaned. Perhaps he could live with this arrangement.
“I think…I have you where I want you, Quinn. Almost.” She took his wrists and pulled. “Loose yourself, Quinn. I command you.”
Yeeezzz!
She leaned on his wrists now. “Because I want to hold you down. For just a little while.” Her vaginal walls clasped him tight and he squirmed. “Until I tell you that it’s your turn to hold me down.”
That was all it took. It was a wonder she wasn’t thrown off, he dimly thought, he thrust up so hard, so deep. Inside her. He wanted to be buried so deep inside her that neither of them would remember they were two separate bodies. Just them. Just them. Only them.
Breath rattled in his lungs as a vise seemed to grip him. Her. Ara. That was all he wanted. All he saw. All he felt. Ara. She was everything, she owned him, she…
Her hot mouth on his skin. Her fierce nails clawing at his shoulders.
“Quinn!” Her scream as she came was sweet. Almost as sweet as the hot rushing release of his come as he groaned.
Chapter Four
“Be quiet.”
Ara squawked before she opened her eyes or registered quite what words had been growled in her ear.
“I said quiet! Women! They never listen.”
What?
She was tangled in Quinn and Quinn’s bed covers, which was a surprise in and of itself. But she was also looking at a sharp blade held close to her body, which, although was becoming far more habitual than she wanted, was still an unpleasant shock.
“I’m getting tired of people feeling the need to wave knives at me.” Ara tried to sound bored, rather than terrified. “And very tired of being told to be quiet. By the way, you are talking. Why can’t I?”
“Fine, don’t be rescued. I have no need of you anyhow.” The boy holding the knife scowled.
“Rescued?” Ara blinked. “Putting a knife to my throat is a rescue?”
“I was planning to put it to
his, but I could change my mind.”
“Rescued?” Quinn was up on one arm, looking dangerous. “Why would she run from me to you, stripling? And why would she think you could offer a rescue?”
The questions were so much what Ara wanted to ask that she decided not to interrupt.
“ Because it’s not just the boy.” A deeper, rougher, more familiar growl filled the tent. “My men and I are here to see to this rescue.”
“Ulrich?” Ara shook her head. She must be dreaming. Why would he follow and rescue her? The last time they’d spoken to each other, he’d been ready to strangle her. But it hadn’t been her fault ‑‑ exactly ‑‑ that she hadn’t been pregnant by him. Admittedly, she probably shouldn’t have pointed out that he kept winning her favor and then failing to make a baby, but…
“Flame the luck.” Quinn looked all the more wary and dangerous as he absorbed who their latest visitor was. Ulrich was the only man able to best him at the local tournament. The only one who had won Ara’s favor month after month until she had very publicly refused to be with Ulrich any longer and been placed with Quinn instead.
Ulrich was the champion of all tournaments, master of the most fighting men in the area. He could conquer all.
Was she glad or sorry she would never go to Quinn’s strange country?
“My men have a guard set on the women’s tent. You can kill me and take this one if you chose. If you want any others, they’ll die before you reach them. My men obey orderzz.”
Quinn sounded so calm. Maybe only she could hear the faintest hiss in the last word. He was afraid for her safety, wasn’t he? Quinn had been so tender. He’d promised her so much ‑‑ he couldn’t carelessly throw her away to Ulrich any more than he would carelessly throw away the life he’d just regained.
Would he?
“Jewel!” Mio gulped.
“Maryam!” Ulrich’s hand tightened on the hilt of his sword.
“Shall we discuss this further, gentlemen?” Quinn spread the palms of his empty hands wide. “I’m willing to negotiate.”
“What about me? Do I have any say in this?” Ara stared at them all.
