Dark Harvest

by Anitra Lynn McLeod

  Her taste was more sublime than any treat he’d ever known, better than sugar-drenched nicla. During the bonding ceremony, he’d swiped a quick taste, but now he could take her full essence into his mouth.

  Kasmiri tried to part her legs, but he’d wrapped her far too well. She struggled, growling her frustration, which only excited him more. Her clit pulsed, thrusting beyond the tiny hood, begging him to soothe the ache. He plunged his tongue everywhere but there, causing her to thrash in her cocoon.

  “Suck on my clit,” Kasmiri ordered.

  He angled around her legs to see her flushed face. “You’re not in charge.” With a grin, he lowered his face back to her sex. “Now you understand why I wanted to bind you.” Holding her legs up with one hand, he traced a fingertip around her nether lips, up and over the hood, then around and around her slick passage.

  “You said you would make me climax until I collapsed!”

  “Be careful what you wish for.” Slowly, he worked his finger into her, rolling an expanding circle into her depths. “Now, tell me, Kasmiri, why did you want to see me with the blue-eyed servant?”

  For a moment, he didn’t think she would answer, but she finally said, “Because you wanted to.”

  “That explains my motives; I’m asking about yours.” He stroked his finger perilously close to her clit. Her guttural moans of pleasure twitched his cock, but denial was not new to him. All the recruits in the training rooms were taught to suppress their sexual urges in order to exploit their physical power. She would surrender long before he would. “Answer me.”

  “He looks like someone I know.”

  “Who?” Sterlave already knew, but he wanted to hear her confess the truth.

  “If I answer, will you at least touch my clit?” She had dropped the demanding tone.

  “Perhaps.” He reveled in his power over her. “However, if you don’t answer, I guarantee I won’t.”

  Growling plaintively, she said, “He reminds me of Chur. I wanted to see you with him because I can’t see you with Chur.”

  Pressing two fingers together, he stroked upward until he trapped her clit between them. If she could have arched her back, she would have lifted herself off the bed. Since the blanket impeded her movements, she wriggled helplessly.

  “You want to watch Chur suck my cock?” Sterlave withdrew his fingers waiting for her answer. It wasn’t a horrible thought, actually. Chur embodied power and masculinity. Having him kneel down to pleasure him was a heady thought. Not that it would ever happen. Chur had waited three seasons to find his bondmate; she had to be worth such a great sacrifice. Besides, after three seasons in the training rooms together, Chur didn’t strike Sterlave as a man interested in other men. Sterlave had never thought he was either, but he wasn’t opposed to exploring his desires, whatever they may be.

  “I want to see you two together and then have both of you pleasure me.”

  Multiple-partner fantasies were another thing to add to the growing list of her wildest dreams. As much as he would enjoy bringing that one to life, they would have to settle for a substitute. Perhaps the blue-eyed servant would be amenable to such a situation. As he considered, he suddenly realized he was willing to go to great lengths to please Kasmiri.

  Lowering his mouth, he sucked her clit between his lips.

  Kasmiri exhaled a relieved sigh and rocked her hips in a desperate bid to get more of her sex into his mouth.

  Rolling his words over her sensitive flesh, he asked, “Do you think your servant would be agreeable?” After the look on his face during the bathing, Sterlave thought the question moot.

  “He will do what I say or suffer the lash.”

  A shiver of revulsion slammed down his spine, deflating the tightness of his erection. He lowered her legs and started to unwind the blanket.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I won’t rape him.”

  Kasmiri uttered an annoyed sigh. “He is ungati. They are trained to provide pleasure.”

  “I don’t care.” Once he freed her, he turned and sat on the edge of the bed. He thought he could do anything to please Kasmiri, but rape was a line he wouldn’t cross.

  5

  Kasmiri’s body throbbed painfully. Being bound had been frightening but also invigorating. For the first time, she was free of all her responsibilities. She found comfort in the confining blanket, almost as if the thin fabric shielded her from all the demands placed upon her. Despite her frustration, she’d enjoyed his teasing. Her clit felt enlarged, so thick with need it was almost a living thing, separate from the rest of her body. He’d made her want him desperately, then he withdrew. She wanted to rail at him, to demand he place himself between her legs and work his magic tongue upon her until she climaxed. However, one glance of his proud back warned her that commanding him would backfire spectacularly.

  Sterlave sat on the edge of the bed with his shoulders straight and his body rigid. At his side, he clenched his fist repeatedly, turning his flesh white. In the subdued light, she saw the first shadow of hair regrowing on his head. As he turned to the side, she noticed he gritted his jaw much like his fist.

  She knew he wasn’t upset about her confession that she wanted to see him with Chur. A shiver caused her flesh to pucker. Just the thought of the two powerful men, sweaty and straining to find pleasure together, quivered her entire body. Her mother’s diatribes made same-sex scenarios profoundly erotic. All her mother’s ranting had accomplished was to make the forbidden desirable. Her servant, Rown, would be a pale substitute for the mighty Chur, but compelling nonetheless.

  Sterlave had withdrawn when she said Rown would perform his duties no matter what his personal preferences. However, judging by the sparkle in Rown’s eyes when he caressed Sterlave, she knew he would be more than willing. What infuriated Sterlave was when she said Rown would perform, or else.

  “Sterlave?” Kasmiri moved across the bed and touched his lower back. “I wouldn’t hurt Rown. He’s been my servant since we were both children.” Even then, it was clear Rown preferred men to women. Kasmiri had cautioned him, for her mother might have punished him for what she called unnatural lust.

  Sterlave caught her gaze over his shoulder. “Then why did you say he would suffer the lash?”

  Because I spoke without thinking, she thought, but she said, “I’m used to getting my way. When I don’t, I can be…harsh.” At times, she had been so driven she behaved foolishly without any regard for the consequences of her actions. “I wouldn’t force him to do something he did not wish to do.” Manipulate him yes, but she wouldn’t force him, not sweet, shy Rown, who would do anything to please her.

  Sterlave turned away. “Then the rumors about you are unfounded.”

  “What rumors?” Here she was trying to comfort him when she didn’t have to. He was her consort. He should be grateful she even bothered to put his fears to rest!

  “They say you don’t care who you hurt. They say when you want something, or someone, you crush everyone who dares to stand in your way.” He sighed, causing his muscles to bunch below her hand. “I don’t want to be chewed up and spit out on your way to obtaining Chur Zenge.”

  His tone was gentle, but the words were sharp enough to wound her pride. “I didn’t ask you to select me during the Harvest. You knew from the Festival of Temptation that I desired him, but now, rather than blaming yourself, you place the fault on me for your own idiocy.”

  Rising from the bed, she took one step away before Sterlave stood and grasped her upper arms, yanking her back into his embrace. Crushing her against his chest, he glared down at her with such intensity his eyes glowed.

  “You wanted me a moment ago.” He forced his hand between her legs, sliding his fingers between slick lips. “Admit it, you want me now. Thoughts of Chur don’t make you wet, I do.”

  Her breath caught as she rapidly went from fury to lust. How did this man cause such primal reactions with his mere touch? She wanted to deny him. She wanted to push his probing fingers away
, laugh in his face, and tell him she would never desire him as much as she longed for Chur. When she opened her mouth, all that came out was a breathless sigh.

  He covered her mouth with his, slipping his tongue against hers with the same rhythm as his talented hand. Involuntarily, she rocked her hips, working herself into a frenzy of need.

  Sterlave picked her up and tossed her down on the bed. He leapt upon her, forcing her legs apart with his knees. His possessive intensity sent her senses reeling.

  “I’ll make you forget him. I’ll make you climax until you’re blind, deaf, and dumb. And then I’ll do it again. And again.”

  Roughly, he shoved his fingers into her sex, pumping so strongly she bit her lip in an effort to accept each wicked thrust without growling. Every vein in his arm stood out with his effort. Sweat beaded his brow. His body exuded musk that only heightened her longing. In his passionate rage, he became a magnificent wild beast. All she could think of was how fully his thick cock would fill the empty inside.

  “You like that, don’t you?” he demanded. “You don’t want tender and sweet, you want hard and nasty. And I’m just the man to give you what you crave. A lowly peasant pleasuring the soon-to-be empress.”

  Before she could argue, he rubbed his thumb across her clit, causing an orgasm to tighten her around his fingers.

  “That’s it, you lusty yondie, come for me, prove to me what I already know.”

  Him calling her a paid courtesan should have infuriated her, but it didn’t. His derogatory term only excited her, prolonging her climax until she truly lost her breath. He didn’t stop. He continued to rub her and pump her until another orgasm raced through her body. When she tried to draw her legs together, he held them apart with his knees.

  “Oh, no, my lusty mistress, you said you wanted to come and come.” His face lowered so he could watch his hand, his eyes luminous within his flushed skin. “Beg for my prick. Tell me how badly you want me to fuck you.”

  She refused with a toss of her head. She would not beg any man for what they should beg her for permission to do; however, the longer she refused, the more he tormented her. Wave after wave of climaxes left her breathless and weak. In the end, she submitted.

  “Please, Sterlave, I want you to fuck me.” Oh gods, she honestly did want him to cover her body with his and thrust into her as a man possessed. Never in her life had she wanted a man more than she wanted him. At this moment, she wanted him more than she wanted Chur.

  “Look at me. I want you to look right at me so there is no question in your mind who is filling your greedy, grasping slit.”

  Kasmiri did as he bid. His eyes drilled into hers with frightening intensity. No thoughts of Chur could enter her mind, not when Sterlave became her entire world. All she could think of was how much she needed him. All that mattered was she gave him what he wanted—her willing submission to him and no other.

  When he pushed her legs wide and nudged his penis against her dripping core, she cried out. Slowly, inexorably, Sterlave pressed into her, stretching her around him, forcing her to accommodate his thickness. Nothing had ever felt so good, so perfect. He belonged inside her, and she belonged wrapped around him.

  A grunt of satisfaction escaped him as he sank fully into her. His lips peeled back in an animalistic snarl of raw hunger that caused her to shiver. As he leaned over her, balancing his weight on his arms, he lowered his face to her neck. His bite prompted another sharp burst of gratification. He marked her, claiming her as his very own, but such only thrilled her.

  “Say my name.”

  “Sterlave, Sterlave,” she chanted.

  He punctuated each breathless word with a mighty thrust.

  “Say my name again.”

  “Sterlave.” She wrapped her arms and legs around him, welcoming his frenzied motions. Each plunge pushed her into the bed, trapping her almost as thoroughly as the blanket had.

  He climaxed with a roar that caused a final series of convulsions in her sex. He collapsed on top of her for a brief moment, then angled back on his elbows so he could peer down at her face.

  A flash of vulnerability caused her to lower her gaze. In a moment of passion, she bared her soul, then feared his triumph. The encounter had been so intense that conflicting emotions overwhelmed her.

  “Ashamed?” He rolled off her. “Can’t believe you begged a lowly commoner?” He laughed as he fluffed pillows below his head. “You do understand that Chur is from Ampir, which is far less prosperous than Gant.”

  His ridicule obliterated the intimacy between them. How could he be so cruel? She hadn’t felt ashamed at all, but simply inundated with so many diverse emotions she hadn’t been able to meet his piercing gaze. Not once had she thought about Chur. Not until his mocking had she felt humiliated.

  Summoning her pride, she slid off the bed and moved to the bathing unit. She wanted to wash away his scent and the evidence of her lust. Never in her life had she felt so dirty.

  She didn’t even bother to glance back at him when she said, “Why should I be mortified that you acted like an animal? I expected no less from a cratifan.” She expected him to launch himself from the bed, but he didn’t, so she continued, “At least Chur has demonstrated the ability to control himself.” When she glanced back, she discovered he’d rolled over.

  Let him sleep, she thought, because only in his dreams would he ever touch her again.

  A mélange of food scents woke Sterlave. Kasmiri, resplendent in a crimson robe, stood beside a long table tucked to the side of the room, picking among twenty different warming platters. She filled her plate, then sat at the head of the table. With a touch of her finger, glowing blue text floated in front of her face.

  As she read, she would occasionally tap a button to verbally relay her instructions and then go back to reading. For a moment, he simply observed her. She had gathered her hair at the base of her neck, which gave her a sleek profile, like one of the goddess statues in the temple. Full, plush lips pursed with concentration while her brows lowered with intent. In-between dealing with her schedule, she would take delicate bites of her selections. Every movement she made was graceful, deliberate. He could lie in bed all day and simply watch her.

  After what happened last night, he was safer in bed than anywhere near her while she had sharp implements within reach.

  Of course, she had only herself to blame. He needed to master her, needed to know that he was the only man in her mind at that moment, and he thought he’d succeeded. His orgasm had been so profound, so complete, that he swore he touched the mythical land of Jarasine. When he looked down into Kasmiri’s face, he had expected to see anything other than shame. Her eyes darted away from his so fast his joy evaporated. What he thought would bind them together only pushed her away. After the fact, she seemed horrified that she’d begged a commoner to fuck her elevated self.

  He’d laughed and rolled away to conceal his humiliation. She resembled every woman in his village. They took their pleasure, then couldn’t get away fast enough. Everything was fine between the covers, but once the pleasure faded, the ugly reality of what he was set in. Everyone shunned him in the light of Tandalsul, but in the dark, the women couldn’t get enough of him. They said he was like a wild animal, forbidden and exotic. He indulged them because, for a fleeting moment, he was superior. He made them beg, he made them perform lewd acts they would never do with their mates. He ate their food, slept in their barns, and then walked away with a smirk of contempt.

  Afterward, the satisfaction dissolved into disappointment. He wanted a woman to want him, not some sexy beast, not some forbidden fruit, but him. Puffed pride couldn’t overcome a deep-seated self-loathing. What hurt him most of all was that they shunned him through no act of his own. They shunned him because of his brutal, vicious, drunken father.

  Kasmiri’s rejection destroyed all the pride he’d carefully built in the training rooms. She had begged him to give her everything he had, but when it was over, she couldn’t even look at him. Al
l the dismissals he’d ever suffered paled beside hers because this time, he actually believed that she wanted him for who he really was. Kasmiri could not have heard the rumors from his village, she would have no idea how they loathed him there. He couldn’t blame her denunciation on his father. Kasmiri discarded him because there was something inherently wrong with him. All his life he blamed his father, but he couldn’t blame him now.

  When she rushed to wash away the evidence of their passion, his soul shattered with the knowledge he was unworthy of any woman’s true devotion. At the height of passion, she beseeched him, surrendered to him, her ardor had been genuine…it was only afterward she realized the folly of her zeal. Her downcast eyes conveyed her disgust.

  Silently, he rose from the bed and moved to the bathing unit. His whole body itched. Getting all of his hair shaved off seemed like a novel idea at the time, but now, he scratched at his head, his chest, his armpits, and his genitals. When he stood at the unit, he continued scratching, but this time with perplexity. In the training rooms, the units had one knob that delivered a trickle of icy water. Kasmiri’s bathing unit had six ornate knobs.

  When he turned one, hot air rushed over his body and he quickly turned it off. The next two he tried didn’t do anything. Another one shot a powerful stream of cold water right at his crotch. He leapt back with a howl.

  Kasmiri’s giggle drifted from the table.

  Leaning around the edge of the unit, he said, “I don’t suppose you are going to help me with this.”

  She shrugged and pressed a button. She said something, but he had no idea what since she spoke in a language he didn’t understand.