“Ah, that is good to learn. Bithia happy with longer lasting.”
“Bithia will be happier with me lasting longer,” Viltori corrected automatically.
“Bithia will be happier with me lasting longer.” Drahka repeated the words, then looked to him for confirmation that he’d spoken correctly.
Viltori nodded, knowing full well his interest at the moment was not with Bithia’s pleasure. His gaze darted between his own hand, Drahka’s, and the mirror where he could see them both. Drahka’s body was big and covered in dark hair. Muscles flexed as he tightened his form to keep his mounting passion at bay.
“Feels good,” Drahka said, squeezing his fist a bit tighter, causing his foreskin to move smoothly up and down his shaft, exposing the slick, dusky-red tip.
Viltori thought he would climax right there. Drahka kept his gaze on Viltori’s hand, mimicking each motion. He followed along so exactly that when Viltori looked into the mirror he felt he was stroking Drahka’s cock. His mouth watered, desperate for a taste of him.
Behind them, they heard a click. Their eyes met, widened, and they hastily jumped to their feet. Viltori had his robe down covering his prick in an instant, but Drahka struggled with the open ends and the tied sash. Before he could determine if the couch was high enough to shield him from Bithia’s view, she looked directly into his eyes through one of the mirrors.
“Tell me, Viltori, exactly what have you been teaching my consort?”
Chapter Seven
Bithia should have let them finish their mutual masturbation session, but she did not wish to waste two such powerful eruptions. Making them wait would make the moment of climax even more profound. She found it difficult to decide which one she would have first, with one so dark and the other so light, and both men strong in different ways. Drahka was so curious and Viltori so knowledgeable. She knew Viltori had not always been an acolyte. Ambo confirmed he was once a recruit. That explained his muscular build and his easy acceptance of sex with another man. And it seemed Drahka’s curiosity was overtaking the ingrained teachings of his tribe.
Bithia felt ready for a day of lusty pleasures. Taking care of those she’d hurt by restoring them to their rightful places, for her appetites should not affect them, had filled her with pride. After a thorough verbal bashing, Ambo would never again punish her lovers. His blubbering apologies had filled her with loathing. She did not believe Ambo was sorry for what he’d done, only sorry for getting caught. Ambo seemed to forget he was not in charge. However, she needed him. For now.
When she’d checked on her consort’s teaching, she’d been stunned then excited by the possibilities. Behind the looking glass, she’d fingered herself almost to orgasm as she’d watched them. Clearly, Viltori was attracted to Drahka. And to herself, if she wasn’t mistaken. All that held him back was his silly notion of acolyte morality. At the moment Drahka seemed merely curious, not excited at the prospect of sex with Viltori, but that was fine too. She wanted them both focused on her. Their encounters with each other could come later, well after she was satisfied.
Timing her entrance to the critical moment, she’d walked in just as Viltori had begun to lose control of his timing. Caught in the act, Viltori hastily covered himself, then hung his head, shame slumping his shoulders. But she knew deep inside he wasn’t ashamed of what he’d been doing, only wary that he’d been caught. Mimicking his teacher, Drahka struggled with his robe, then gave up. Any other man would look comical with his hard and heavy prick hanging out from between the edges of his robe, but Drahka managed to look almost commanding.
“We do wrong?” Drahka whispered to Viltori, clearly confused. She noticed his grammar worsened when he was perplexed or flustered.
“There is no wrong,” Bithia said, causing Viltori to glance up at her, his brows lifted with curiosity. Below his white robe, his guilty cock created a slowly spreading wet spot. Stepping between the two men, she cupped Drahka, then Viltori. “Nothing wrong at all.”
Drahka’s lids settled low over his intense expression as he lifted his hips just enough to give her better leverage. His groan was one of deep pleasure as he said, “This is better when you touch.”
“Please,” Viltori whispered, closing his eyes tightly, “I cannot do this.”
He was convinced if he indulged his lust, he would be sent away. “Yes, you can.” While still stroking Drahka, she let go of Viltori and untied the sash of his robe. Tossing the tie onto the couch, she pushed the fabric off his shoulders, pooling the white astle on the floor behind his feet. “No longer are you an acolyte.”
Dark suspicion devoured a brief burst of joy. “What am I now, my lady?”
“Mine.” Before he could question her further, she stepped close. “Now help me show Drahka how to kiss.” Turning to Drahka, she drew him closer by tugging gently on his cock until he stood near her and Viltori.
“You show me this kiss?” Drahka asked.
“He is such an eager student.” Bithia slid her hand slowly along the wonderful length of Drahka’s cock. “And you are such a devoted teacher.” She gave Viltori’s cock a knowledgeable squeeze, then released him.
Viltori puckered his lips and pressed them against Bithia’s neck. Lifting his head to Drahka, he said, “You do that, but to her lips.” Edging away, so Drahka could not see, Viltori nipped the nape of her neck and whispered, “You might find owning me is a dangerous prospect.”
Bithia shivered in response. She’d had a feeling if she pushed him in just the right way, she could bring out his aggressive side. If he taught this to Drahka, the two men could keep her thoroughly satisfied. She did not care for wimpy men and Viltori was clearly not subservient. He’d bowed and mumbled abject apologies to appease her, but she could tell he did so for show. He honestly did not feel he was beneath her. Good. Because she didn’t think he was, either.
Drahka leaned close and pressed his mouth against hers. Tentative and curious, he held his lips to hers. Bithia lifted her hand to his head, kissing his lips softly at first, with small pecking motions, until he mimicked her.
“Now, open your mouth just a bit.” Viltori moved to her side to give himself a better view for instructions.
Slowly, Drahka opened his mouth. When Bithia slipped her tongue inside, he groaned, sending a shudder through her body. He tasted masculine and pure. Knowing she was the first and only woman he’d ever kissed thrilled the huntress inside. Such a moment must have excited Drahka too, because he grabbed the back of her head, leaned into her, then stabbed his tongue between her lips as if he were fucking her mouth.
“Gently, Drahka, not too aggressive,” Viltori murmured in both languages. “Give, but give lightly.”
Apparently, Viltori understood Drahka’s obsession with giving. If she could have, she would have brought him into her rooms last night to explain to the man that he didn’t always have to give so hard and fast. Not that she was opposed to rough couplings; to the contrary, she liked them very much, but not all the time. Variation, foreplay, teasing: these were the concepts Drahka must learn.
Drahka relaxed his hold on her head and continued his exploration, but with more grace. He pulled away just a bit, then said, “You kiss too. Show more.”
Bithia cast a wanton gaze to Viltori. “Yes, my servant, show more types of kissing.”
Anger tightened his lips at the derogatory title, but he spoke not a word.
“Come, now, Viltori. You won’t be able to kiss with such fury making your mouth so tight.”
Eyes narrowed dangerously, Viltori brought his face to hers. “By your wish, my lady.” He turned her head so that she faced him and then kissed the breath out of her. In that brief, shining moment, he captured her complete attention. He kissed her as if his life depended on it. As if he would rule her with the power of his lips, and he almost did. Just as she began to fall under his spell, he pulled away, casting her a triumphant smirk. To her shock, he grabbed the back of Drahka’s head and proceeded to kiss him with the same powerful p
assion.
Drahka’s startled expression gave way to a curious fumbling that Viltori tried to tame. Watching them clash tongues sent her senses reeling. Each tried to give more than the other, which made their kissing a battle. Back and forth the struggle for supremacy went until Bithia separated them with one palm to each man’s chest.
“I give, you take,” Drahka said, clearly perplexed that Viltori did not understand that concept.
“Now you know what last night was like for me,” Bithia said to Viltori.
“He’s alpha,” Viltori explained. “He doesn’t understand there can be give and take without threatening his position.”
Bithia laughed and whispered, “Seems to me he wants to dominate you.” Challenging him with the tilt of her face and the subtle lift of one brow, she asked, “What will you do now, teacher?”
In that moment, she knew she’d pushed him too far. A new and dangerous light bloomed in Viltori’s dark eyes. He wouldn’t allow anyone to dominate him, especially not her.
Slipping behind her, he captured her wrists, binding her quickly with the discarded sash of his robe. “I am a teacher, as you say, and I think the one who needs to learn is you.”
Before she could protest, he said something in Drahka’s native tongue. Eagerly he responded by pushing open her robe and cupping her breasts. Twisting her nipples until her peaks stood hard, he then lowered his mouth to them at Viltori’s command.
Bithia opened her mouth to issue an order, but Viltori turned her head to the side and filled her mouth with his tongue. Again, he kissed her until she was breathless. Pulling back just a fraction, he whispered against her lips, “You will submit, Bithia, or I will refuse to teach.”
“I am the empress,” she challenged. Even though she wanted Viltori, and wanted him aggressive, she would not allow him to hold power over her. No man would ever have command of her. “What makes you think you have any authority with me?”
“You gave me the idea yourself.”
Her mouth went dry at the certainty in his gaze.
Smiling slyly, he cupped her chin. Teasing his finger along her mouth, as if speculating about all the things he could put there, he whispered, “I am the only man on all of Diola who speaks your consort’s native tongue.” Viltori glanced to Drahka, who was eagerly playing with her breasts. “That makes me just as important as your consort.”
Too late, Bithia realized she’d placed herself firmly under Viltori’s thumb.
Chapter Eight
Drahka fondled Bithia’s breasts, loving the weight they made against his palms and the texture of her nipples in his mouth. Something on her skin tasted sweet and floral, a flavor he simply could not get enough of. He heard her and Viltori whispering back and forth, their voices low and heated. He understood what they said, but mostly he concentrated on touching his chosen. Her dark skin contrasted against his lighter skin just as Viltori’s even lighter skin contrasted against hers. The shading of their flesh was visually pleasing, as if they each blended into the other, then round again.
Drahka very much enjoyed the teaching of solo touching. If he could stroke himself for a long time without climaxing, he could give longer and harder to Bithia, which should please her. His tribe had taught that such touching was shameful, for it wasted a man’s essence, but if he did solo touching without orgasm, there would be no waste.
Watching his teacher had been exciting too. Viltori’s body was similar to his but different as well. His teacher had light hair on his head, no hair on his chest, and very dark hair on the rest of his body, especially around his cut cock. At first, Drahka had been horrified that someone had cut Viltori’s cock, but someone had only cut the tip. Drahka had been so fascinated that he’d touched Viltori several times before he remembered men should not touch other men.
Trying to remain faithful to the true way of his people would be difficult, but not impossible. Like when Viltori had shown him kissing; that was wrong, and Drahka almost hit his teacher, but then he realized Viltori was only trying to show, so maybe that kind of man-to-man touching was permissible. Touching for the purpose of teaching wasn’t against the true way. It wasn’t as if they were doing what had caused Drahka to lose his name. Still, Drahka wanted to be the one to give. When Viltori tried to force Drahka to take, Drahka had fought back. In a most curious way, he’d enjoyed their battle for dominance.
Kissing Viltori was different from kissing Bithia. They each tasted unique. The feel of their lips and tongues was different too. What was the same were the feelings inside, and that, he knew, would give him trouble. He could not feel for Viltori what he felt for Bithia. Drahka could not have those feelings and hold to the true way.
When he looked up, something had changed with the cast of Bithia’s face. Her confidence was shaken and Viltori’s seemed renewed. Was it always this way with these people? Just like those in his tribe, they strove to master each other. Switching of those roles could mean great shame. Just as Bithia opened her mouth to speak, Viltori pressed his finger to her lips and silenced her. Her glare said more than words, but she held her tongue.
“Drahka,” Viltori said, “I wish to teach the empress something new.” He spoke first in Diolan, then translated to Oughunian. “Bithia needs to learn how to take, as I’m sure you discovered last night.”
Drahka nodded. Bithia had not seemed to understand she should be more receptive to his giving.
Bithia swallowed hard, her mismatched eyes wide as she considered them. Carefully, they arranged her upon a padded bench so that she was facedown, with her bound arms behind her. The tiny bench was just long enough to hold her body from the top of her head to the edge of her hips. Knees buried in thick carpet, her bottom stuck up from the edge just a bit. Viltori whispered things to her as he draped her crimson robe over her body, covering her completely yet displaying her artfully.
Drahka would have preferred her in this position nude. When he told this to Viltori, he chuckled, his hand pausing to caress Bithia’s bound arms. “Just as Bithia needs to learn to take, you must learn to give slower.” Each time Viltori spoke, he carefully gave his words in both languages so that he and Bithia could understand.
“You see, Drahka, a woman like Bithia is used to being in command.” Easing her knees apart, Viltori settled himself behind her. “She knows how to take, but not how to take without a struggle.” Cupping one hand to each of her back cheeks, Viltori leaned very close to her, then said, “I’m going to teach her how to be submissive.”
Twisting her head so she could see Viltori over her shoulder, Bithia seethed, “Enjoy yourself now, teacher, because once I’m free—”
“You’ll what?” Viltori asked. His dark brows high over glittering brown eyes.
Drahka stood silently, trying to understand what was happening between his teacher and his chosen. Bithia seemed reluctant to accept Viltori’s teachings even though over their earlier meal, she’d said that she would learn just as he would.
Viltori pushed her cheeks apart and breathed long, slow and low against her bottom. Whatever Bithia intended to say was lost when she groaned. Never having heard a woman make such a sound, Drahka knelt beside Viltori and asked what he’d done.
“This fabric,” he stroked his long fingers over the crimson material of Bithia’s robe, “is called astle. One of its most wonderful properties is that it holds heat close to the body. So when I breathe…” he breathed out again, eliciting another groan of pleasure, “…Bithia feels that particular spot heat up far beyond anywhere else.”
“It’s like touching without a touch,” Drahka confirmed.
With a smile and a nod, Viltori whispered something against Bithia, something that caused her to squirm, not in an effort to get away, but as if she wished for him to press his face closer.
“What are you saying to her?” Drahka asked. Learning the words that pleased Bithia would be wise.
“I am telling her all the wicked things I wish to do to her. All the ways I wish to use her lovely bod
y to sate my lust.” Lifting up, Viltori slowly pressed his cock in the fabric-covered split of her bottom, then rubbed his length up and down by rocking his hips.
Drahka went hard in such a rush he almost lost his balance. Viltori’s long, thick cock contrasted against the darkness of the red fabric, his movements leisurely but strong. Viltori moved against her as if he could do so all day without climaxing.
Exuberant with understanding, Drahka said, “This is why one practices solo touching!”
“Indeed.” Viltori nodded. “Because if one is controlled, one can last a long time and thoroughly torment—I mean arouse—his partner.”
Bithia swiveled her hips, trying to change the path of Viltori’s cock, but she was unsuccessful. His teacher simply followed along with her, as if he danced against her bottom. Watching them together was both arousing and frustrating. Drahka wanted to be the one who built Bithia’s passions. When his chosen struggled too much, Viltori grasped the tie around her bound hands and pulled up until she whimpered. After cautioning her to stillness, he let go, and now she held her bottom still for him. If Drahka thought Viltori was hurting her, he would have stopped him, but he seemed to be warning her with the threat of pain, like the straps riders used to control the rangoug beasts. It only hurt if they resisted.
“But a man should not put his cock there. Not in that place.” Drahka frowned for Viltori rubbed against her dark passage, not the entrance to her glory. No matter what Diolans believed, doing that went against everything he held to by the true way.
“Why shouldn’t a man put his cock here?” Viltori dipped down, nudging the tip of his cock against Bithia’s dark passage. Only the thin fabric of her robe prevented him from plunging within. As shocked as he was, Drahka couldn’t prevent a surge of excitement. Would Viltori force himself into her? Would Bithia let him without struggling? If she cried out in pain, would Drahka stop his teacher? All of these questions collided in his mind, keeping him immobile as he watched Viltori hold himself steady against her. Bithia was so perfectly still she scarcely breathed.
Wicked Empress:The Onic Empire, Book 4 Page 6
