by Ophelia Bell
“Stand and remove the rest of your clothes.” He spoke evenly, his deep voice enveloping her with a caress as soft yet as commanding as the wind urging her to stretch her wings and glide on its currents. Just as effortlessly, she stood and stripped.
“Go to the doorway and raise your arms and spread your legs.”
Belah suppressed a smile at that command. He was going to bind her in the same spot as she’d bound him that first night. She went placidly and did as she was told.
He stood and came to her then, his body flexing with a cat’s grace as he walked. His pale shirt fell open to reveal his strong, bronze chest. When he reached her, he stood so close she could feel the pulsing of his aura against her skin and his warm breath in her ear. He gazed into her eyes while he slid his hands up one arm and secured her wrist to the binding at the top. Each limb was bound the same way, with his hands a slow caress over her skin until the silken ropes were tightened just enough that she couldn’t escape.
After tying her second ankle, he lingered in a crouch in front of her, his face aligned with her groin. He inhaled a long, slow breath through his nose.
“You smell like the Nile after a rainstorm,” he said. “And I know you are just as wet. I find I’m thirsty just now.” He pressed his mouth to her bare cleft and slipped his tongue between her folds, hooking the wet tip of it under the hood of her clit.
Belah shuddered at the sudden pleasure that warm stroke sent through her body. He pressed his mouth tighter against her, sucking her swollen bundle between his lips hard enough to make her cry out. His fingers gripped hard at her hips while he lapped at her, drinking her flood of arousal like he was, indeed, parched. But it wasn’t until he reached up and pinched both her nipples suddenly that she lost herself, hips bucking against him with the most sudden, unexpected, and intense orgasm. He was relentless, licking and sucking while his fingers sent rhythmic jolts of pain through her in time with the undulating surges of pleasure that coursed through her.
Soon he pulled back and stood, his shadowed face glistening with her juices. He kissed her abruptly, tangy tongue sliding into her willing mouth as though he owned that part of her as much as the tender flesh between her thighs. In that moment he owned all of her and she would resist nothing he chose to do to her. She loved every second.
He alternated between drawing her to the peaks of pain by tormenting her nipples over and over and by teasing the rest of her body with tender caresses that drove her wild with the need to come again. For the first time in her considerably long life she craved to be given that pleasure more than she desired bringing her partner to their own Nirvana. Nikhil was every bit the master of her pleasure. Every sensation that passed through her body, he carefully orchestrated with his touch.
After her third or fourth orgasm, he disappeared behind her into her room for a moment. She could turn her head for a limited view, but he was beyond her field of vision. Still, she could hear him moving around, perhaps undressing, and she could easily sense his carefully reined-in excitement that was even more vivid than before. It made her squirm in her bonds and her skin tingle in anticipation of what he had planned for her. She almost regretted not slipping a tendril of her breath to him when they kissed, but somehow it felt right that she let him have his secrets in this.
Soon he approached her, the warmth of his body sliding against hers and his breath gusting into her ear.
“I have a surprise for you,” he murmured.
Belah was too distracted by the feel of his thick, hard, and velvety length brushing against her backside to do more than nod. He hadn’t fucked her yet and her muscles clenched tightly with the wish to be filled and fucked by him again, but on his terms this time.
But Nikhil didn’t press between her thighs like she hoped he would. Instead, his warmth left her, with only the harsh stinging slap from his hand on her backside to keep her company. That burn thrummed through her and a fresh flood of slick heat dampened the tops of her thighs.
The sharp crack sounded suddenly, making her jump before she even registered the searing sting of the strike on her back.
“Ah!” she yelped, arching from the unexpected pain. It was even more intense than the little tugs and pulls he’d given her damaged nipples, so much so that tears came to her eyes. When the fire dimmed to a low, throbbing ember, she relaxed, savoring the aftereffect that made her body feel more alive than she had in centuries. “Again, please,” she said, panting out the words.
Nikhil chuckled behind her. “This is how you become mine for good, little beast. The whip is how the beast learns who its true master is.”
She closed her eyes and waited, and soon enough the whip cracked and the pain shot through her.
Again and again, he struck until her entire back was a field of fire as exquisite as the feel of the sun on her when she flew the highest. Tears streamed down her face and her chest heaved. Yet he wasn’t quite finished.
With eerie precision, the next strike hit the top of the cleft in her ass, and the next few crisscrossed over her cheeks. The stinging stripes of each one seemed to bind her body tighter and tighter, as though he were a devious spider wrapping her in a cocoon of pain to turn her into a tender snack for later. Her entire body vibrated with the sensations and with her ever deepening need for him.
From the corner of her eye, something dark and thin whooshed by, hitting the wall beside the doorway with a loud thump. The handle of the whip hit the floor beside her. A second later, Nikhil’s hot, sweat-covered body was pressed against hers, his panting breaths in her ear and his arms wrapping around her from behind, hands pawing at her breasts like an animal digging into its kill.
Fresh pain bloomed through her back, accompanied by new spikes from the sharp bites he gave her neck and shoulder. With both large hands he gripped her ass cheeks and spread her apart. The thick, hot tip of his cock pressed urgently into her, and in one hard thrust he buried himself in her hungry depths, the harsh stretch a welcome comfort and the perfect counterpoint to the exquisite field of sensation that covered her entire back.
He cupped her breasts as he fucked her, worrying her nipples yet again until her entire body was a tangle of warring sensations. Her arms ached from the pull of the ropes as he pushed into her and she pushed back, trying to torque her body so he could get deeper inside her.
He fucked her harder and harder, as though aching to reach deeper. Finally, he let out a frustrated roar and pulled out. He ducked down behind her and tugged her ankles free from the ropes that held them, then came around in front of her. Both hands gripped her roughly by the backs of her thighs and hauled her close. She immediately wrapped her legs around him and let out an incoherent cry of triumph when he slammed deep again to the hilt and pounded ever harder into her. He clutched tightly at her whip-striped ass and pain threaded through her again.
Nikhil’s dark gaze never left her face, their eyes locked. With each squeeze of his hands on her ass or brush of his chest against her nipples she winced, and he smiled.
“You first, my love,” he said, dipping his head to flick his tongue over her bruised nipple. The bite of the ropes into her wrists was a sweet reminder of how little control she had, and with a cry she surrendered completely.
Magic pulsed through her body, flooding her soul and mind with power as it rushed to find its home in Nikhil. His sweat shone from the glow of energy that filled him and his face contorted with the sudden eruption of his climax deep inside her.
His thrusts gradually slowed, and he let his forehead rest against her shoulder. When he stopped moving he continued to hold her against him and Belah relished the closeness and the fullness of his cock still buried inside her.
With one arm still wrapped around her tender backside, he reached the other up and swiftly released her wrists from their bindings. Without a word, he carried her to the bed and laid her down, letting her arrange herself on her side with a pillow t
ucked under her head.
He regarded her silently for a moment, then seeming to come to a decision, he donned his clothes and left the room. Belah lay there, perplexed by his contradictory behavior, and wondered whether he had some new wicked surprise in store for her. She pondered the possibility and was surprised to realize how much the mystery of it thrilled her.
Her shoulders ached from being held up for so long, but moving anything hurt. She reveled in the pain—something she so rarely experienced and that provided her with the long absent reminder that she was a living, feeling creature with needs beyond simply stretching her wings at night and soaking up magic from her pets each morning. Nikhil was more than she could have hoped for already. His magic was more potent, and he seemed attuned to her needs on a deeper level than she’d ever expected. None of her past mates had been as attuned as he was—she may have encouraged them to live longer, if they had been, but it would have been supremely selfish to force her burden onto a mate who had no wish to live longer than a normal human might.
Belah shifted on her bed, wincing as she tried to find a comfortable position that didn’t irritate the tiny wounds he’d given her. Every inch of her skin seemed too sensitive, even the bits he hadn’t abused. She finally settled on her side with a pillow under her head and her hips twisted so the angry welts on her sides didn’t have too much contact with her bed.
He’d outdone himself. Her entire nether region throbbed and swelled in agreement. That heavy need would destroy her, but she wasn’t about to deny it so soon. She closed her eyes, imagining what secret surprise he might bring back.
Her eyes sprang open again when her door creaked and Nikhil entered, closing the door quietly behind him. A moment later her bed dipped and his hand was at her shoulder, gentle but urgent.
“What hurts most?” he asked.
She stared at him. She hurt everywhere and loved all of it. She’d been prepared to endure the discomfort through the night… and enjoy the reminders when he fucked her again.
Yet here he was, with an ointment that she knew from the scent would heal her. Meri’s ointments always worked. This wasn’t what she wanted.
When she didn’t answer, he dabbed a tiny oily blob onto one nipple and rubbed it in a slow circle. Her nipple tingled in spite of the rush of pain that shot through her from his contact.
In a gruff, low voice, he began to speak while he anointed her nipples with the medicinal ointment.
“I want to hurt you.”
His small confession was contradicted by the gentle way he cupped her breasts. When she looked into his eyes, his eyebrows raised and he repeated the statement.
“I want to hurt you.”
“Hurt me.”
With fingers coated in the healing ointment, he squeezed her already bruised nipple hard. Every sensation of healing disappeared, replaced by Nikhil’s need for pain. She watched his eyes grow dark.
He shook his head and released her nipple. “No. Tonight you are my pet. That’s what you call the members of your harem, right? Pets? Tonight you performed well. You endured a ruthless battle the same as my favorite horse. I think I whipped you even more than I do him. You deserve tenderness for now. I can hurt you again tomorrow to drive you to fulfill my needs. But after you have done your duty well, I will always cherish you.”
Belah closed her eyes, relaxing. An overwhelming urge to cry rose up in her and she suppressed it, unsure where it came from. Relief from the pain she wanted but that kept her so high she felt like she was flying when he gave it to her. His statement grounded her, but gave her hope. She could stay rooted here for him, as long as he promised he would send her flying with his penchant for pain and pleasure tomorrow.
It didn’t matter that she could literally fly. She had never felt such a release as she had tonight when he’d whipped her and tortured her. She’d never flown so high.
His fingertips still swirled gently around her bruised areolas. When he ventured a soft brush across one tip, she gasped and opened her eyes.
Nikhil’s face glowed in blue light, more beautiful than ever. He seemed enraptured by her and his hand gently squeezed her breast again.
“You do me such honor, ‘Iilahatan, to share your bed, to allow me to touch you the way I most want to touch you. Please tell me you are not merely fulfilling my greatest wish. Tell me you want it too.”
His eyes drifted down to her breasts where his hand was still steadily caressing her.
Belah’s brow twitched. How could he not know she wanted him?
“I’ve let you have control of my body all day, Nikhil. It is still yours. You know the rules, though. I’m queen and empress, so by morning I need to be able to fulfill that role.”
He smiled and dipped his finger into the pot of ointment. With a gentle sweep, he spread more of the creamy substance over her bruised nipples and Belah closed her eyes, enjoying the delicious sensations. She kept her eyes closed when his fingers drifted away from her nipples and trailed an oily path down her belly to her wet cleft. His body hugged hers while he teased her to the point of begging, then he covered her with his body and thrust deep, taking his pleasure simply while he whispered his love into her ear.
She fell asleep, content in his arms.
Chapter Eight
After that night, their nights together became wondrous explorations of his creativity and her capacity to endure pain and pleasure combined. He repeatedly requested that she wear the heavy scarabs on her nipples during the day, but included other secret tortures—things Belah had to commend him for. His sexual creativity seemed boundless, particularly where it concerned driving her to distraction while she sat upon her throne, conducting her kingdom’s business.
It became a challenge to avoid showing any outward sign of how his games affected her. One day it would be the curved dildo he’d attached a leather strap to so it would remain buried inside her all day, rubbing just so against her tender inner flesh so perfectly she nearly orgasmed several times. Another day would be the pair of spiked bands he attached to her upper thighs that sent tiny barbs of pain every time she moved.
She was enjoying just such a day with those perfect bands of pain driving her wild enough to rush through her daily business, when an unexpected cloud passed over the sun, casting the entire brightly lit room into eerie shadows. Glancing outside, Belah still saw the burning orb in a cloudless sky and her jaw set hard. Such a darkness on a clear day could only mean one thing.
Unconscious for the first time that day of the sharp spikes Nikhil’s bands caused her, she stood. From outside the palace, she heard the cacophony of nearby wildlife rushing to escape in the wake of one of her kind approaching. The alarmed whinnies of horses echoed through the hall, along with the thrum of flapping wings as hundreds of birds suddenly took flight. Low chanting of the people of her kingdom reverberated through the air, echoing from all around.
When her brother’s massive, dark shape filled the doorway, everyone in attendance dropped to their knees and pressed their foreheads to the floor, muttering incoherent prayers. The very visible cloud of darkness that accompanied him was likely the reason they cowered. Even Nikhil slipped out of his seat, face stricken with alarm as he prostrated himself on the ground.
“Welcome, brother,” she called to him as he threw back his black hood and strode toward her, his dark, curly hair blowing wildly with some unseen Northern wind that seemed to follow him wherever he went. The darkness clung to him as well, blotting out the presence of every other aura in the room until her brother, Ked, stood before her, towering over her even where she stood on the raised dais where she held court.
He said nothing at first, his eyes narrowing as he took her in with measured scrutiny. Belah’s skin grew chilly under that gaze and she pressed her lips together, preparing herself for the criticism she sensed he was preparing to unleash.
Rather than speak the words she knew were
on the tip of his tongue, he said, “We must speak in private, sister.”
Belah blinked at him, surprised. His powers cloaked them so fully he could have easily berated her right where they stood and no one would hear a word of the exchange. He could just as easily have spoken directly into her mind without even arriving here in person. They hadn’t seen each other in so long, the telepathic communication between her and all her siblings tended to dwindle. The power it required was rarely worth it unless they had news that affected each other. For Ked to fly here must mean he had very grave news. Cold dread washed over her as she nodded and turned to lead him through the large door behind her throne.
When they reached her study, which had reverted back to its original purpose now that Nikhil spent every night in her bed, she turned to him.
“Are you going to tell me why you’re here?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Why do I need to speak of things you already know well enough?” His voice rumbled, deep and rough and filled with the darkness of an approaching thunderstorm. His closeness was as disconcerting as always, and the reason others of their kind gave him as wide a berth as the lower creatures did. He knew her secrets without having to be told. He knew all her darkest, guiltiest secrets.
He was the biggest one.
The spikes digging into her thighs suddenly felt like ridiculous, childish toys—an absurd indulgence compared to the stark wasteland of a life her brother had chosen for himself in the aftermath of their mistake. She didn’t dare draw any more attention to the bands than he could already sense. To do so would be to admit the small spike of shame she felt at his very presence now.
Yet his eyes drifted down her body, to the level of the pain she felt coloring her aura where the bands pressed into her, slicing without actually breaking her impervious skin.
“Yes, I do it for him,” she said, preempting his question.
