“You are banished to the world of Amael, traitor, for the attack on the Lady Karissa. If you are ever seen in any of the Volirian worlds again, your life will be forfeit. You’ll be killed by the first loyal warrior who sights you.” King Marit narrowed his eyes as the man gasped. A gesture of his hand sent the red-haired assassin flying back into a swirling vortex that had opened directly behind him.
King Marit turned to Tyral and put his hand on his shoulder. “Your Lady has been through much tonight. I give you leave to see to her. Take her to your rooms and give her something better to think about. After what happened, she’ll be inclined to brood. There is no one here who will question your need to be alone with her.”
Chapter Nine
Tyral looked over at Karissa. Right now she looked a little stunned, but he knew soon she’d be remembering how close she’d come to dying tonight. He met his father’s eyes and nodded. Callan stepped up beside him and they strode over to her.
Callan extended his hand to her and she smiled as she placed her palm in his large hand, allowing him to pull her to her feet. Without a word, she stepped into the narrow space between them, wriggling until they both put their arms around her. She didn’t question them when they urged her out of the Royal Hall.
What should we do to keep her mind off of what happened in there? Callan shot Tyral a mystified look over the top of her head. Father is right. She’ll brood. Already she seems a little…solemn.
With cause. Tyral pulled her a little closer. If the healer hadn’t been in the Hall, if he had been slower…she could easily have died. She was their only mate. They could have survived, but never would they have found the completion they would with her. There was also the possibility that they could turn chomak without her. She responded well to our efforts when we were “testing” her on that planet. She took it as a game. Why don’t we play one with her now?
She did like the bondage. Do you think she is ready for more than bondage? Callan glanced down at the silver-blonde head of their love. She is new to so many aspects of physical love, but her response is hot, ready and giving. I don’t mind introducing her to what she has yet to discover. It’s easier than overcoming the mistakes made by others.
I think she will find pleasure in “more.” Tyral’s confidence in her was based on her reactions to everything that they had done to and with her. She’d burned them with the fiery need simmering within her. So far, she had met and fulfilled every one of their needs. Their Ice Lady seemed to have pure lava running through her veins, a true match for them.
“How are you, Karissa? Do you think you’d like to have a little fun?” Tyral asked.
She turned her head for a moment and looked at him. “I’m going to be all right. What do you mean, a little fun?”
“Eli moru, we’re in the mood to play with you tonight.” Callan tipped her head up to look into her beautiful green eyes the moment they had secured the door behind them. “Are you willing to play a game with us?”
Her tongue slicked over her lips and for a moment, she just looked at him. He wondered if she wasn’t ready. Maybe she needed to just be held. Just as he was getting ready to tell her that he’d be more than willing to hold her all night if she needed, she nodded.
Karissa blinked up at them, wondering what they were doing. She saw the expectancy in their eyes. They wanted to play?
Umm, maybe they’ll let you tie them up. Ijina sent a flood of images to Karissa.
Karissa looked over at the two men. I don’t think me tying them up is what they plan.
Quickly she decided that whatever they were doing, she was more than ready. If she didn’t find something to catch her interest, she’d begin to think about the assassin, what had happened and just how this would change her life. A little game with those two sounded like it might do what she needed. She knew that Callan and Tyral could take her mind off anything.
“What do you want to play?” she asked, tilting her head. Giving Callan a saucy wink before she took a few steps away from them, she turned to face the two obviously aroused men leaning against the door. Just one glance down had revealed the erections pressing against their pants.
“Give us a moment to prepare and you’ll find out.” Tyral paced forward, then curled his hand around her waist and brushed a kiss over her cheek.
“Going to show me how imaginative you are?” Her hand dipped down and stroked over the cloth-covered ridge of his cock before trailing up to his abdomen.
“If you can keep up with us, maybe.” Callan’s hand tapped her bottom and a taunting smile curved his lips.
“You come up with your game. We’ll see who calls a halt first. Or maybe you two will give in to exhaustion. You are a few years older than me.” She smirked at them as they strode around the room gathering items. Her last remark garnered a raised eyebrow and a wicked smile from Callan.
After a few moments of gathering and rearranging, Callan and Tyral sat in two large high-backed chairs that they had placed in front of the hearth. She moved around so that she could see them and noted that their expressions had changed. Before they had moved into the light, anticipatory smiles had curved their mouths. A dark solemnity now marked their expressions.
“Come stand before us and be judged, spy for the Ice Clan.” Tyral slammed his hand down on the arm of the chair. Tension coiled through his muscled body. “I tire of your games and platitudes. Your lies fool us no more.”
Her eyes widened in astonishment and her breath caught in her throat. Anger rang in his voice and in every line of his body. Only the dancing light in his amber eyes gave the truth away. For a moment, she’d almost believed that he was really angry at her.
With a mental shake, she reminded herself that this was a game. She wouldn’t allow them to outdo her so easily. A sneer pasted to her lips, she tossed her head back, flinging her hair off her shoulders. She’d be their Ice Clan spy if they wanted it.
Ooh, I’ve always waned to be a spy, Ijina purred.
You like to be noticed too much to be a good spy. Karissa looked at them through her lashes before squaring her shoulders and taking up her role.
“I don’t recognize your right to sit in judgment over me, Sobrin. You’re nothing more than petty Fire Lords putting on the airs of kings.” She swept her hand out in a gesture encompassing the whole room. Since she was supposed to be a spy for a rival clan, she decided a few more insults were in order. “Look at this place. My prison cell is every bit as grand as this hovel of a hall.”
“Silence!” Callan surged to his feet and a rush of magic surrounded her. “Do you think this is a game, lady? You’ll learn your Fire Kings didn’t accept such insults lightly.”
Rissa felt a light pulse at her throat. It felt like a soft tickle and then was gone. She opened her mouth to continue her harangue, but no sound passed her lips in spite of her repeated attempts to speak. For a moment, realizing she couldn’t make a sound, fear took hold of her. Her heart pounded, racing. Her hands flew to her throat in an instinctual gesture. Slowly reason filtered back. A game, this is only a game and they want to rattle me.
A smile curved Callan’s lips as he sat back down in the large throne-like chair.
“Would you care to know your sentence for your crimes, spy? Do you know what we do to insolent little Ice witches who have the temerity to try to spy on us?” Tyral sat back in his chair, his feet stretched out in front of him, seemingly totally at ease.
She glared at him.
“Especially stubborn little sitgas who refuse to acknowledge their mates.” Callan leaned forward and swept his eyes down her body and then back up in a lecherous inspection.
She turned to face the fireplace, giving them her back. Since she couldn’t scream at them, blatant acts of disrespect were one of the few avenues of expression. Turning her back on the two Fire Lords not only did that, it implied that she didn’t consider them a threat.
A hot wind curled around her and magic whipped her around to face them.
�
��Your spirit bonded with ours. Did you think we would just allow you to disappear? Do you think we’ll allow you to get away with trying to betray us?” Tyral’s roar almost echoed in the room. A muscle twitched along the side of his jaw.
She still couldn’t speak, but she was enjoying herself. Playing the insolent witch to their arrogant Lords was fun. She stamped her foot and fisted her hands, baring her teeth at them. Caught up in the game, she searched for something to wipe the superior look off of their faces.
“You will pay for your perfidy, Ice witch. You’ll learn just where your loyalty belongs.” In a smooth flow of muscle, Callan rose and paced over to her. A gloved hand raised and brushed over her cheek. “From this day forward, you’ll know who your masters are and will obey without question.”
Karissa swung her fist at him, intending to stop short of actually hitting him, but her hand never got that close to him. His leather-encased fingers captured her wrist in a tight grip. Using his hold on her arm, he urged her to her knees. He smiled down at her, all satisfied, arrogant male warrior.
The sight of him looming above her stirred something primitive inside of her. Excitement boiled within her. She loved their dominance, their strength. Even as she struggled, she plotted to incite and enflame.
The force of her own response surprised her. Her nipples had pebbled and hardened with only thoughts of what they might do. As their game continued, she could feel her cream gathering between her thighs.
“Lesson number one—a slave will be punished for trying to hit her betters and there are none lower in the Fire Realm than little Ice slaves.” Callan watched her face as she struggled against him.
“Lesson two—a slave’s only purpose is to see to her masters’ happiness.” Tyral leisurely stood, a smile tilting his lips. In his right hand, he held a short-handled leather flogger he swished through the air, drawing her eyes to the black leather. “Lesson three—a slave speaks only when spoken to and always addresses her masters with respect. From this point on, you will refer to us as Lord or Master when you are spoken to. Defiance or deviation of any sort will earn you a punishment.”
She tugged on her hand and shot Callan a mutinous glare, turning her head to include Tyral in that look. Surely they didn’t expect her to give in to their demands so easily. A real spy would have fought the Ancient Fire Lords a long time before she surrendered to the tie between them. Torn between her loyalty to her Clan and her bond to the Lords, she would have chosen the life she knew over the uncertainty of joining her life to two men of a rival Clan. She wouldn’t give them such an easy victory.
She bared her teeth at Callan in a blatant threat when he unlaced the fly of his pants, allowing his cock to spring free of the tight confinement. A bead of liquid formed on the head of the dark blue flesh. Although she wanted to lean forward and lick it, she kept her expression fierce and antagonistic. They would work to earn their victory tonight. She jumped startled when Tyral’s hand laced into her hair and tilted her head back, forcing her to meet his amber eyes.
“You’re allowed to speak now, slave, because we want to hear your groans and cries, to hear you acknowledge your masters.” Tyral tightened his hand in her silky hair. “If you bite him, you’ll pay far longer than he hurts. Kiss his cock. Take that which you try to reject by running from us.”
She turned her head as far to the side as Tyral’s grip on her hair would allow. Her scalp stung as her hair pulled tight. “You aren’t worthy to be master to a Tuvian slug. I’ll never call you Lord, Fire despot.”
Tyral brought the flogger down across her right buttock in a sharp crack. She jumped, gasped and fear blossomed in her gaze. It took her a moment to overcome her instinctive reaction.
That pop from the little black whip in his hand had stung and startled her. She hadn’t expected him to actually use the thing. She’d thought it was just for show, intimidation. Apparently, he was in the mood to test her limits tonight.
She admitted freely that fear had been sharp and immediate, but then her eyes had focused on Tyral’s golden orbs and saw the calm patience in them. After the rush of fear had eased, she’d noticed the sharper edge to her need, the increased intensity of her arousal. If that was the result, she was more than willing to play with them.
She took a deep breath. When it came down to it, it was a question of trust. She trusted Callan and Tyral. They might push her limits, introduce her to new facets of sex and love, but they would never truly hurt her. She knew they would place her needs above theirs.
“I don’t break that easily, Sobrin.” Karissa flashed him a bright smile. “That little crop isn’t going to make me do your bidding. I’m a Lady of the Ice Clan, not one of your Fire Clan harlots. My tastes are far more refined, educated. I don’t crave pain with my pleasure.”
“You’re a little sitga from the Ice Clans who doesn’t know when to keep her mouth closed.” Tyral drew the crop up the valley between her buttocks. The dangling leather ribbons glided over her skin. A slight tickling tingle erupted in the path of the crop. “I’m going to enjoy watching these turn pink and hearing your cries for more. You’ll be so aroused that you’ll beg for us to fuck you before the night is over.”
“Not even in my worst nightmares would I beg for you to fuck me,” she grated out. She clenched her teeth. This damn bantering conversation would have her begging soon. She wanted them to fuck her. She needed to taste them. Just talking about it, thinking about it, had her wet and her pussy aching to be filled. She was more than ready for some action.
“You can’t resist us, little slave.” Callan stepped forward and the rounded head of his cock brushed against her cheek. “You’ll break. Already you’re weakening. You crave our taste, the feel of our cocks slamming into your cunt.”
“And at the end of the night, you’ll thank us for every stroke I give you with this, every orgasm we allow you.” Tyral brought the flogger down in a sharp snap, striking her left butt cheek.
Pain and pleasure blended. She tensed and gasped in surprise. She felt a gush of hot, creamy moisture slip onto her thighs as her channel clenched. A burst of arousal slammed through her along with that sharp little sting. She couldn’t deny that she wanted them. Her nipples were hard, reddened points and her thighs were becoming slick with her juices.
“Bastard!” Karissa gritted her teeth and forced the curse out, trying to keep her mind on the game. She really wanted to taste the dark blue, silky skin of the cock nudging her cheek, to lick that pre-cum from its broad head. She wanted to give them just as much pleasure as they gave her.
“You don’t learn very fast, do you, little slave?” Tyral tapped the flogger against her thighs. A slow smile curved his mouth. “Or maybe you like this. I can smell your arousal, my Ice Lady. Do you like the sting of the whip, little slave?”
“Perhaps she needs to be reminded of her new position in life, my brother.” Callan’s hand replaced Tyral’s in her hair and he turned her head until her lips brushed over his cock. He closed his eyes at the soft caress over the sensitive tip. Her hot breath fanned over his shaft, making him swell and harden even more.
Tyral stepped back a few paces and drew a knife from his belt, making certain that she saw it. He stepped forward and knelt beside her. “Ice slaves don’t need clothing to cover them. All they need is their masters’ collar. Anything else they wear will be a gift for good behavior.”
The dark red dress Callan had created for her was slit from collar to hem and whipped away from her body with delicious roughness. She tossed her head back and glared up into Callan’s arrogant face. His wide smile showed two descended fangs and his golden eyes glowed with arousal. Suddenly, a weight settled onto her shoulders, tightening around her neck.
With a gasp, her hands flew up to it, pulling futilely at the object. A light, thin metal band circled her neck. She narrowed her eyes at the one man she could see. Ooh, they were truly playing this game as if there was a prize to be won. A moment later, cool, slender bracelets conformed to her w
rists.
“Do you not admire the jewelry that we’ve given you, slave?” Tyral ran the leather flogger across her bare hip. His eyes watched her closely. A low growl announced his enjoyment of the shiver that coursed through her body. “Arms out.”
Her arms snapped up, pulled away from her body and held there by the magical silver bands encasing them. “You won’t get away with this. My Clan will see you entombed in Ice for this insult, Sobrin.”
“Ah, the spy wishes to talk of insults when she is guilty of many. Hands and knees, slave.” Callan’s voice rang with impatience as he released her hair, stepping back as the bands on her wrist insured her compliance. His eyes ran over her aroused body. “Little Ice witch, tell us who we are. Acknowledge us as your masters.”
Tyral knelt behind her, his fingers gliding over her buttocks and down between her thighs and over the glistening, honeyed lips of her labia. “Our little slave is very wet. Could it be that she wants to be mastered in spite of her impassioned avowals?”
“I can’t help the way my body reacts to you, slug.” She drew in a shuddering breath as his fingertips brushed over her swollen clit. They were driving her insane with their game.
“Our mate,” Callan thundered as he knelt beside her. His fingers found one of her dangling nipples and tugged at the hardened peak. “You’re our mate and you thought to deny us and go back to your Clan.”
“Never again!” Tyral delivered a sharp swat on her right buttock with the leather flogger. “You’ll never leave us. You’ll never want to.”
Something slick, hard and warm slipped into her juicy slit. It vibrated within her and her muscles clamped around the dildo as it was slowly withdrawn, not wanting to lose that delicious feeling. With a twist, it thrust back inside her cunt, drawing a gasping cry from her lips.
Her eyes slammed closed when the shooting streak of sensation had burst through her with that twisting thrust. They fluttered open when she didn’t hear anything more. She felt hands at her breasts, but there were only two hands. That meant one man was free to plan and plot.
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