Chur didn’t answer. He ordered her to put her robe back in place and gather her supplies. While she did so, he adjusted his own clothing and strode to the exit. When she hesitated, he snapped his fingers and ordered her to follow him to his rooms.
In her customary ten paces behind, Enovese pattered after him on bare feet, thanking the cowl hood of her ceremonial robe for hiding her face. Hot, angry tears streamed down her cheeks, and terror for her precarious position sent her mind into a spiral of activity. Her incredible gamble had thoroughly backfired. Whatever dreams she’d had of living happily ever after with Chur dissolved into dust.
3
Chur knew Enovese had difficulty keeping up with the pace he set through the maze of hallways, yet he refused to slow. The physical activity helped to dissipate his frustration, but moreover, he wished to punish her, if only in this small way.
Her act astounded him for its audacity, and though she had given him a way out of his dilemma, he refused to feel grateful, for she had taken the choice away from him. He wanted her to know what it was like to have her fate held in his hand and to wonder at what choice he would make for her.
When he finally reached his suite of rooms, he flung the Onic door open so hard slivers of onyx timber embedded into the wall, yet the door bounced off and almost slammed closed.
Tentatively, Enovese pushed the door open and entered.
He followed, then bellowed, “Close it and lock it.”
Her hands trembled as she did so.
“Now, my paratanist, we will complete the ritual.”
Chur stood in the center of his main room and watched Enovese set the stage for the last of the Harvest ceremony.
Colored with rich browns, burnt umber, and the deepest black, his rooms were simple but lush. The sparse furniture was of the best quality but kept against the walls so that he could use the floor space to practice with the ancient weapons. Only the best lighting crystals lined the ceiling and cast the room with golden light. A ceremonial bathing facility of polished Onic tile and warming crystals took up the entire north wall, and it was there that Enovese meticulously placed the tools she would need. She activated the warming crystals, set the jet of water to the correct temperature, and then approached him.
When she reached out to remove his sword, he gripped her wrist. “Take off your robe.”
“But I am supposed—”
“Do you dare to argue with me?”
Her hands shook as she pushed the hood back. She kept her gaze lowered, concentrating fully on prying apart the tiny clasps. Once she’d worked them free, he ordered her to look at him. When she hesitated, he tilted her face up. Confusion and fear caused the indigo starburst in her eyes to darken. A tinge of shame possessed him when he found her terror arousing. For once, he did not feel like a tool wielded by another. For the first time, Chur knew his physical prowess gave him ultimate control over the woman before him.
“Understand me fully, Enovese, you will do as I say and I will only ask once. If you refuse, I will force you to do my bidding. That is a side of me you do not wish to see. Do you understand?”
Her truculent little nose lowered slightly. “I will do as you say without question.” Holding his gaze, she opened the robe, slid it off her shoulders, then let the rough fabric pool around her slender ankles.
Just as he suspected, her pert nipples were the exact coral shade of her lips. Turgid and tight against her small but perfectly shaped breasts, her nipples strained toward him, begging him to lower his mouth to taste and feel their pebbled texture. His gaze swept lower, taking in the soft curve of her belly, the rounded swell of her hips, and that most enticing view of her carefully shaved sex.
To her credit, Enovese did not try to hide from his perusal even when he ordered her to turn and pull her hair away so he could examine the delicate curve of her shoulders down to her high and well-molded buttocks. Her legs were short but in proportion and curvy. When she released her hair, the bound coco-brown length roped down to the middle of her thighs. Those luscious thighs begged his massive hands to grip them, and part them, then plunge between them with one mighty stroke.
His cock twitched below the codpiece. How could he want her again so desperately when he’d had her not long ago? He would blame his reaction on drugs, but whatever drugs or oils she’d used on him would be well and truly gone by now. This was his own physical reaction, and that understanding simultaneously pleased and annoyed him. Chur did not like the idea of her lovely form enslaving him. Perhaps if he had her enough, such a feeling would eventually disappear.
“You may begin.”
With an economy of motion, Enovese removed his sword, the codpiece, and the belt that held his leggings to his waist. She dropped to her knees and removed his boots, looking up at him once she set them aside. Her subservient position caused him to twitch when he imagined cupping her chin and guiding her lips to the tip of his cock.
Clearly reading the meaning in his face, Enovese kept her pose. He let her wait for a long breathless moment while he traced his finger along her slightly parted lips, making sure she fully understood his intent. Just when he seemed ready to demand her compliance, he abruptly turned away, striding toward the bathing unit. He didn’t bother to see if she followed for he knew she would.
He stood under the jet, allowing the warm water to sluice from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. When he stepped from the stream, Enovese lathered his entire body with fragrant soap that removed all traces of estal oil. The rich woody scent also revived his senses, causing any lingering traces of the umer to dissipate. As usual, she spent an inordinate amount of time cleansing his genitals. Where once this made sense, for that was where most of the oil was concentrated, he now suspected something else entirely.
“Enough.”
No longer able to hide under her ceremonial robe, Enovese blushed and moved to set the soap aside.
“Hand it to me.”
Enovese did so and then stood silently, waiting his next order. She no longer dared to question him when he broke the confines of the ritual. For the first time, he was in control and he wanted revenge for all the times she’d tormented him. He would punish her with pleasure, denying her that final release for as long as he could.
While he rinsed off, he had her unbind her hair and then stand under the water. Once she was wet, he had her step forward and he lathered her from head to toe, paying careful attention to her shaved sex. His soap-slick fingers slid easily between the sensitive lips and swirled teasingly against her now-firm nub.
As a Harvester, Chur knew all about that sensitive spot. There was a reason the ritual forbade him to touch a harvest in that powerful, magical place. Mastery over the manipulation of that secret spot could make any woman his slave. Freed of the confines of the rules, Chur delighted in breaking every decree he’d ever learned.
Her lids lowered and her head fell back, exposing the length of her slender neck. A series of soft moans escaped her, reverberating desire down the full of his shaft. Her pleasure radiated out from her and heightened his own. Again, no drugs could cause this effect and knowing that intoxicated him.
Before she could find a sweet release that might compel his, Chur returned her to the water and rinsed her just as carefully as he had lathered her. She said nothing, but the tiniest grunt of frustration clarified her longing. He shut the water off and allowed her to dry him as he did her.
He lifted the bottle of oil and placed a generous dollop in his hands. Mimicking her prior actions, he smoothed his hands together to warm the oil before rubbing it onto her flesh.
Starting at her forehead, he stroked the oil across her elfin face, down her neck, across her slender shoulders, her long and strong arms, and then smoothed his hands along her chest to cup her breasts. Her breath caught on a gasp when he rubbed her nipples between calloused fingers and thumbs.
“I had no idea my punishment would please you so greatly.”
Enovese parted her lips as if to sp
eak, but another gentle twist caused her to gasp and forget whatever she had intended to say. He continued to apply the oil down her belly and knelt to cover her legs.
When he looked up, he met her gaze, then urged her legs apart by cupping her inner thighs. Maintaining eye contact, he lowered his face and breathed out, hot and moist, against her sex. Had his rooms not been isolated from the rest of the palace, her moan would have penetrated the walls and caused untold speculation. But they were alone and would be so for as long as he desired; none dared disturb the Harvester after a Harvest.
Keeping his mouth close to her, he softly asked, “Do you have any idea what punishments I intend to inflict on you, Enovese?”
Her beautiful eyes widened, and she shook her head side to side while her tongue slid nervously across her full upper lip.
With a smile, he inched his face closer, then breathed, “I will tease and torment you until you beg me to end your misery.”
Her hips tilted forward and before she could speak, he swiped his tongue between the swollen lips of her sex and up to the tight little nub that throbbed against his mouth. A groan of want and need caused her legs to tremble. He pushed her thighs farther apart, encircled her clit with his lips, and then sucked gently as the tip of his tongue flicked slowly back and forth.
On a breathless moan, she begged, “Punish me, Chur, for I have been so terribly wicked.”
Flicking his tongue faster, he brought her to the very edge of climax, then ruthlessly stopped and stood. She reached for him and he captured her hands. “I have not even begun to punish you, my succulent servant.” He turned her around and continued to rub oil along her back and down the length of her legs. Lifting himself and his hands, he concentrated his attention on her firm buttocks, marveling at the two tiny dimples that dipped on either side of her bottom.
Grasping her hair, he pulled her head back to expose her neck and placed his mouth at the throbbing pulse. With a teasing nip of his teeth, he pressed his body against her and nuzzled his cock between the narrow slit of her bottom. “Tell me, my virgin harvest, that you accept my punishment, no matter what I mete out.”
Trembling and breathless, Enovese gasped, “I will do all that you ask to atone for my crimes against you.”
Her acquiescence spiraled another wave of heat through his body, and he moved back to slide one slick hand between her cheeks. With soft, swirling pressure, he circled her tight rosebud and worked a slick finger inside. Enovese lost her balance on a swoon and he held her up with a strong arm around her waist as he continued to finger her nether passage.
She gained her footing and relaxed into him. Building intensity by increasing the pace of his thrusts, he lowered his other hand to cup her hairless sex. Slick with her lusty juices, his middle finger slipped easily inside. Working his arms around her in a sideways hug, he managed to thrust his middle fingers into her in a slow, yet building beat.
Enovese lost her balance again, but he caught her and continued to work his massive hands and strong fingers in and out of her most secret and sacred passages. As a Harvester, Chur had never known a woman beyond the ritual of Harvest, and Enovese knew nothing beyond her role as paratanist. Virgins both, in a way, Chur thought. He would now act out every wicked fantasy his mind could concoct. He had a season to decide what to do and exploring every inch of his wanton virgin headed the list of what he wanted to do with what might be his last season of life. For he would not claim her as bondmate until he had to. Until then, he would torment, tease, and possess her exquisite form in every way he could imagine.
Lowering his lips to her ear, Chur whispered, “By might of the blade I claim that which belongs to me.” He continued to pump his fingers into her welcoming body.
In the same ancient tongue, Enovese gasped, “I freely give myself to you, my bondmate.”
He refused her claim and said, “Then you will obey my every desire.”
She didn’t answer, only nodded, and turned to kiss him.
Kissing was something denied him as the Harvester. Once he knew how intimate kissing was after kissing Enovese during the Harvest ritual, Chur understood why the rules forbid him this singular pleasure. He wanted to kiss Enovese. Kissing her conflicted with his duty, but he didn’t care. He had to kiss her again. He captured her lips with his and teased his tongue into her mouth with the same slow stroke he danced with his hands. His cock rode against her slender hip. As desire raced, contracting his body as he neared release, he broke away from her and smiled at her soft groan of frustration. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that her torment was just beginning.
He handed her the bottle of oil and commanded her to complete the ritual.
Enovese warmed the oil with her hands, then began at his head, smoothing and working the oil into his skin, gently touching the scar that marred his face. Her fingers kneaded along the muscles of his neck and shoulders, dissipating any lingering tension. As she worked her way down, she left his cock alone, as she always did, until the last. Strong, even strokes along his flesh aroused and yet soothed his exhausted body.
Normally during this ritual Enovese was completely shrouded in her robe, but to see her now, to watch her expressive face, to see desire dilate her pupils and cause her mouth to part in a most suggestive way…her arousal nearly pushed him over the edge. She hadn’t even touched his shaft.
Once she fully coated him, she knelt beside him to finish, but he turned so she knelt before him.
Her gaze met his briefly, then lowered as she began to work her magic on his throbbing cock. Slick with oil, her slender and oh-so-clever hands encircled his shaft with light pressure that caused the veins to strain, darkening his flesh and contrasting her pale white skin.
Usually during this part of the ritual he did not watch but stood with his eyes closed and his head back so he could fully enjoy the final release. Now, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. The light dance of her hands, the way smooth muscles in her arms strained slightly as she increased the pressure, the way her eyes riveted to her task as if he would evaporate if she looked away.
Even and slow, matching the beat of his strained breath, Enovese stroked him, and when his release seemed imminent, she encircled the base of his shaft with a tight ring of forefinger and thumb, then pressed her other thumb to the tip, thus skillfully preventing his release. Once the urge had passed, she continued with her rhythmic strokes. Three times she brought him to the edge, and three times she drew him away. As she built toward the final plunging precipice, her gaze darted to the ceremonial chalice.
“Not this time.” Her confused gaze met his and he traced a finger to her lips. “You will be my vessel.”
A hot, wanton lust replaced the confusion in her gaze. Enovese steadied his cock with both hands, then slid the sensitive tip across her coral lips. Delicate and pink, her tongue caressed the tip, then slid under to the most sensitive spot where the shaft met the head. Ever so slowly, she sucked him inside the wet heat of her mouth. Her teeth scraped lightly along the top and her tongue stroked softly below as her lips contracted into a tight O that slipped down his length. He swore he saw disappointment flitter across her gaze when she realized she could not draw him fully inside. She surprised him again by using her hands to stroke tandem with her mouth, mimicking the feel of her throat contracted around him.
Every muscle in his body flexed and strained to hold steady against not only the feel of her but also the very vision of her. Enovese held his gaze. Her unbound brown hair spilled down her back richer than the most expensive astle and pooled around her legs while her fists eagerly stroked him along with her mouth—his release erupted so cataclysmically she could not have stopped the tide if she tried, but she didn’t. Her eyes closed as she sucked hard, taking his climax into herself with a lusty greed that only fueled his orgasm to a far greater height than he’d ever known.
His eyes closed as his head went back, and a tremendous growl rumbled up from his chest and filled the room. Still, she worked her mouth on him,
compelling another spasm to shudder through his body. Only then, when she’d drunk him dry, did she release him.
It took him a moment to catch his breath and steady himself. He gazed down at her and found that words utterly escaped him. He lifted her up into his arms and plunged his tongue into her mouth, tasting himself on her, reveling in her answering moan and the way her arms tightened around him as if they belonged wrapped around his shoulders.
He carried her to his bed and placed her in the center, then lay beside her, never breaking the kiss. The oil from their bodies seeped into the fabric, but he didn’t care; all he wanted was to kiss her and try to show her without words how greatly she had pleased him.
A part of him still wanted to torment her, to deny her any release, but he found he could not. Chur demanded of Enovese. She had acquiesced, not grudgingly, not by force, but eagerly and wantonly. He had to know why.
Reluctantly, he broke the kiss and pulled back so he could study her face. Tracing his fingers lightly along the bridge of her nose, then down to her mouth, he said, “You enjoyed that.”
“Yes.”
“Why?” For the life of him, he didn’t understand what she got out of his new twist on the old ritual.
“Because I pleased you.” Her hands slid along his chest and teased across his nipples. “I could feel your want, your desire, your need. Your pleasure radiated out and into me. The higher I took you, the higher I went until…” she trailed off as if searching for the right words, but she stopped and simply looked at him.
After a moment, Chur smiled and asked, “Did you find release without me even touching you?”
Enovese blushed lightly and nodded. “Even before, when we’ve done the ritual the usual way, I always met your release with my own. I thought the words helped carry me along. Apparently not.”
Wicked Harvest Page 3
