Wicked Empress:The Onic Empire, Book 4

by Anitra Lynn McLeod

  Viltori caught up to her, matching her pace. “I am the only one who can teach him,” he reminded her, his voice low yet pointed.

  Bithia stopped short, sending him a step ahead of her before he stopped and turned back.

  “It will not take forever to teach him. Once he is sufficiently trained, I will no longer be in need of your services.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Drahka had never felt more uncomfortable. Bithia’s servants had put clothing on him that was unlike anything he’d ever worn. Uncomfortably clinging, the fabrics rubbed his body so provocatively that simple movements aroused him. Everything, from the shirt, to the pants, to the calf-high boots, was crafted of crimson fabrics and leathers. Since he had no family color, he was dressed entirely in Bithia’s family color. When the servant turned him, facing him toward his reflection, his eyes widened in shock. Automatically he thrust his hands over his cock. The servant pushed them away, patiently explaining that what he wore was supposed to display his body. Drahka wanted to ask why, but the strangeness of his outfit left the words a jumble in his head. By the time he’d taken a few deep breaths and made some order out of his thoughts, the servants were gone.

  Settling himself upon the edge of the bed he’d shared with Bithia caused him to shake his head. Already he understood that he’d done so many wrong things. Forcing her to hold still and thrusting into her without giving her body any teasing strokes were just two of the most egregious mistakes he’d made. He thanked his teacher for showing him a way that would please his chosen. Drahka couldn’t wait to try out what he’d learned tonight when they were alone. He did not want Viltori to join them again. Not after what he’d done today. Crushing the bedclothes into his fist, Drahka tried to remove the image of his teacher on his knees. Drahka tried desperately not to see his thick cock thrust between Viltori’s wanton lips. Against his will, he saw Viltori’s eyes open, gazing up at him, drilling the truth of their mutual longing into him like an accusation.

  Leaping from the bed, Drahka paced across the white floor, his boots booming against the tile, then silent across the fur rugs. Back and forth he went, with his strides almost musical. He did not know how long he walked the length of her room. All he knew was that he was determined not to think of his teacher. Yet the more he tried not to think of Viltori, the more he thought of him. His gleaming golden hair, his glistening intelligent eyes, the firm way his lips wrapped around his shaft, tugging, pulling, begging Drahka to give to him everything he’d held back for so long.

  Drahka more felt than heard the door open. When he looked over, Bithia strode in. Her crimson dress was wet, clinging to her form in a way that made his cock twitch. Behind her came Viltori. Drahka couldn’t help but notice his pants were wet. Dark brown fabric outlined his semi-hard cock. Looking from one to the other, he realized only the front of his teacher’s pants was wet and Bithia’s entire dress was soaked. It didn’t take much for him to realize his teacher had been pressed up against his chosen.

  A muscle twitched in Drahka’s jaw. Earlier he’d told Viltori that in his tribe, any man could give to any woman, as long as she was willing to take, but Drahka discovered he did not like the idea of them together without him. But what made him turn away in embarrassment was he couldn’t decide if he was angrier that Bithia might want Viltori more than she wanted him, or that Viltori might want Bithia more than he wanted Drahka. If they wanted each other, they would have no need of him. Then where would Drahka be? Bithia said she would not kill him, and he believed her, but there would be nothing preventing her from sending him back to his tribe.

  Knowing he should not think of his teacher that way did not help stop him from doing so. He’d enjoyed what his teacher had done. Wantonly he’d grasped the back of his head to hold him steady for his thrusts. Just as he’d been about to unleash a great gushing tide of satisfaction down the man’s throat, he’d pushed him away, horrified at his own perverse needs. What the elders said was true; there was a great wrongness in him. They were right to take away his name and shun him from the tribe. That he could find the mouth of a man as pleasurable as the glory of woman meant he was deeply disturbed.

  Now, with the fury on Bithia’s face, and Viltori’s shamed expression, Drahka feared Viltori had confessed their transgression to her. Bithia would now uncover the whole truth about him, and why his tribe had willingly traded him away. They lost nothing in the exchange and gained greatly. What would she do when she found out they’d given her a man filled with such perversity his own tribe had disowned him?

  When his chosen’s eyes met his, they widened a bit. As her gaze traveled along his body, a slow smile spread pleasure across her mouth, chasing her fury away. When her gaze fell upon his artfully displayed cock, her mouth changed into an O, as if she wished to wrap her lips around him again. Now in his mind he saw both of them on their knees, taking turns sucking his cock. Each wayward thought hardened him more, making him press against the fabric, which in turn caressed him, hardening him further. If he couldn’t control himself, he’d climax just standing still.

  “You look wonderful,” Bithia said, crossing the room to him. She leaned carefully up, keeping her wet clothing from touching his, and kissed his mouth. He like this way of greeting and kissed her back. Perhaps his thoughts were wrong and Viltori had not told her what happened. His next concern became what had angered her so?

  “What happened?” Diolans had some odd customs, but wearing wet clothing probably wasn’t one of them.

  Bithia cast a quick, meaningful glance to Viltori that made it clear whatever had happened was his fault. “Your teacher has an odd idea of what is funny.”

  Viltori couldn’t meet Drahka’s gaze, which caused his chest to tighten unbearably. Drahka did not want to lose his teacher. He’d been angry earlier, but that was only to hide his fear. What they did could harm them both, which, ironically, made the entire scenario more appealing. Somehow, they had to find a way to avoid being alone together where that type of touching could happen again, because it was now clear that Viltori wanted him just as much as he wanted Viltori. What a mess they would make of things if Bithia found out. Perhaps, if he stumbled more with Diolan language, Bithia would have to keep Viltori near to teach him, but not too close where Drahka would be tempted.

  “It was an accident,” Viltori explained, keeping his head down.

  “No, it wasn’t.” Bithia struggled to remove her wet clothing and Drahka stepped forward to help. Although, he did like the way the wet fabric clung to her breasts, tightening her nipples, making them stand out like hard little peaks. Still, she was shivering and he did not wish for his chosen to suffer even a tiny bit. Each time they tried to work the fastener apart, it slipped from their fingers. As the moments passed, Bithia began to shake and her lips turned blue.

  “Let me.” Viltori stepped between them. Rather than grasping the tab with his fingers, he used his teeth. With one smooth motion, he tugged the fastener down from below her arm to her hip. As soon as he let go, her dress fell to the floor, revealing that she wore nothing below.

  Drahka and Viltori both caught their breath. Seeing her completely bare, her body brushed with tiny bumps that echoed the hard tips of her breasts, was profoundly exciting. The moment spun out as they stood there silently looking at her. Gazes sliding sideways, each man caught the eye of the other, wordlessly confirming their mutual decision.

  “Whatever you had planned for tonight, Bithia, you are going to be late.” Viltori used that voice, like the one in the mirrored room today, that commanding voice that sent shivers down Drahka’s spine just as it surely did Bithia’s. His was the voice of an elder, a tone that couldn’t be denied, issuing commands that must be obeyed.

  “We are already late. I will change and you—”

  She tried to brush past them, but Drahka grasped one arm while Viltori grabbed the other.

  “What are you doing?”

  With unspoken agreement, they moved her toward the bed, her question ignored.<
br />
  “We cannot be any later than we already are.” Bithia struggled, but the two of them were far stronger. “It’s a celebration of our bonding!”

  Drahka didn’t care. They would have a much more private, and far more beneficial, celebration right here.

  Further protests echoed off the glittering white walls as they pushed her onto the bed. So stunned was she that she lay there looking up at them for a long moment before she even thought of trying to crawl away. By the time the idea occurred to her, Viltori was on the bed, pulling her up into his lap so he could hold her in his arms. Viltori would keep her from struggling or escaping.

  Watching her watching him, Drahka began to undo all the work her servants had put into dressing him. Off came the formfitting shirt. Off slipped the great booming boots. Gone too were the clinging pants that displayed every muscle from his ankles to his butt. All that remained was the odd scrap of fabric that cupped his cock and balls, lifting them up, placing them out from his body.

  “It’s called an echalle.” Viltori nodded to the last of Drahka’s outfit. “Only a consort can wear one.”

  “And how do you know of it?” Drahka thought it curious Viltori had chosen to speak in Oughunian. Perhaps he wished to increase Bithia’s unease by speaking in a language she could not understand.

  “Rown, a servant, has told me far too much about them. Rown served the empress before Bithia, and he had to dress her consort.” A funny smile twitched the edge of Viltori’s lips, making Drahka wonder what else this Rown had done for his master. Was this male-to-male touching common here on Diola? If it was, they had used great care to keep the truth from him until now.

  “What is the purpose?” Drahka struggled to release himself from the complicated series of straps, but he could not remember the precise order.

  “To display your cock to the citizens of Diola.” Viltori tried to hold back his amusement but couldn’t. Drahka realized he wasn’t laughing at him, but at his dilemma of having his genitals in bondage. “All should look upon you and be jealous of what only the empress can have.” Viltori motioned him up onto the bed. Drahka climbed up and drew close, already knowing what would happen.

  Just as he predicted, Viltori slid his hands along the straps, slowly freeing him from the confining garment, but in doing so, he had to touch him, which aroused him, sending him into another spiral of shame. Sensing his discomfort, Viltori moved as quickly as he could, touching him only when he had to. Once he freed him, he tossed the echalle off the bed.

  Bare, Drahka looked down into Bithia’s expectant face. She’d watched the way Viltori touched him, and she sensed Drahka’s response. To his great relief, she said nothing. But something in her eyes was different. Hot coals of desire had cooled, not to ashes, but it would take more fuel and strong work to bring her back to a burning fire. No matter what he had to do, Drahka swore he would show her that everything he did was for her. Drahka wanted Bithia to look at him with the same heat she did Viltori. He wanted her to follow his commands as she did his. Drahka wanted to master her. Not in all things, just here, in this way. If he could command her here, he would happily let her command everywhere else. However, Drahka realized he needed Viltori’s help. Alone, he would not know the words to say, the orders to give. To please his chosen, he would have to first master his longings for his teacher.

  As he considered her upon the bed, her upper body comfortably held by Viltori, Drahka didn’t know where to start.

  “Climb back off the bed, stand at the edge.”

  Drahka did as instructed.

  “Grasp her ankles in your fists,” Viltori said in Oughunian. “Let her feel the power in your hands as you open your fists and slide your hands up her legs, pushing them apart as you go.”

  Drahka followed Viltori’s instructions, watching how Bithia’s lips parted with pleasure. It seemed once she realized she would not be free until they were finished with her, Bithia relaxed and let Drahka do whatever Viltori told him to do.

  Lazily Viltori cupped her breasts, pressing them together, then flicking his thumbs across her nipples. His hands were pale against the darkness of her flesh. All the while Drahka drew his hands up her legs, loving the feel of her skin, which was still a bit cold, but growing warmer with each passing moment. As he reached the juncture of her thighs, he pushed her legs out and up, opening her to his inspection. Viltori tossed him several pillows to place under her bottom to lift her up, making her position more comfortable.

  Following Viltori’s explicit instructions, Drahka lowered his face to her sex. What he’d felt earlier with his hand he now explored with his eyes. Again, his teacher named the parts of her glory, from her lips, to her clit, to the entrance of her cunt. This last he said in Diolan, for he wanted Bithia to hear that word; cunt, not glory, as Drahka had always thought. Drahka memorized the words, repeating them as he stroked each part in turn, then brought his face so close he almost touched her and said, “Your sweet, hot cunt.”

  Bithia squirmed and parted her legs wider.

  “That’s it, my lady, show him how pleased you are by what he’s learned. Let him look at that luscious cunt of yours.” Viltori leaned over her, kissing her as he continued to tease her breasts. Between kisses, he gave further instructions on how Drahka should go about tormenting his chosen.

  Starting with the heat of his breath, he caressed the entire area between her legs by repeating the words Viltori gave him. Each word sparked a different response in Bithia, bringing her higher into ecstasy. Once he’d warmed her with his breath and words, Viltori whispered something in his native tongue that Drahka at first resisted doing. On the verge of saying the action was wrong, he closed his mouth, lowered his face and followed his teacher’s instructions.

  Placing his massive hands on either side of her sex, he pushed her legs apart, exposing the tender pink inside her glory. With Viltori’s words flowing over him, encouraging him, he lowered his face and slipped his tongue inside Bithia. She tasted salty yet sweet, unlike anything he’d ever known. He discovered he loved the unique and succulent flavor of her sex even more than the floral flavor of her skin. Once he started plunging his tongue within her, he didn’t want to stop.

  A long, low keening noise, like an animal caught in trap unable to find freedom, came from her chest. He realized Bithia knew she was lost. Once he mastered this skill, she would do his bidding, just as she did for Viltori. Each time they were together, Drahka learned new ways to give to his chosen. As he continued to lick and suck at her delicious flesh, he wondered if one day he would know all there was to know. On that day would he become bored with his chosen? Would Viltori go when he’d taught Drahka all he knew? Both thoughts panicked him, taking away his joy, so he dismissed them, determinedly concentrating only on pleasing Bithia in this moment, in this way.

  “That’s it, Drahka, thrust your tongue inside her.” Viltori again used the Diolan words, and he timed them with Drahka’s motions.

  Words and actions combined until Drahka felt the power of both. Joining Viltori, echoing the words between thrusts of his tongue, sent Bithia into excited, breathless moans.

  “Lift up, take her straining clit into your mouth.”

  Drahka did so, feeling the smooth hardness with the rough side of his tongue. His pride soared when Bithia made that noise, that noise he’d never heard a woman make until Viltori pulled it from her body, but this time she made it for him, for what Drahka was doing to her. Flicking his tongue over her clit, he sucked and teased until her chest rose and fell so rapidly it was as if she ran from him. Placing his hands upon her hips, he held her down, showing her clearly he was her master, and she would never outrun him.

  Bithia surrendered with a high-pitched moan of submission that swelled satisfaction throughout Drahka’s body. She climaxed hard, her cunt gushing against his chin, her clit hiding away from the flicking of his tongue.

  Unable to resist any longer, Drahka yanked her to the edge of the bed, ready to give to her as hard and as fast as
he could.

  “Wait,” Viltori urged in Drahka’s native language. “I know how badly you wish to be inside her, but turn her to her belly first, as she was today.”

  Bithia’s eyes met his. Both were the same translucent blue. Lowered lids tried to hide her curiosity at what Drahka would do.

  When her lips parted, as if to order him, Drahka flipped her over before she could speak. So abrupt was his action, Bithia had no breath. Her rounded bottom quivered as he pushed her up the bed and climbed behind her. Vulnerable, exposed, Bithia let Drahka and Viltori maneuver her into position. Eventually, Bithia was facedown against Viltori.

  Viltori bent his knees, placing them on either side of Bithia’s hips, helping to hold her for Drahka. Placing his cock against her creamy sex, Drahka hesitated, watching what happened as his teacher cradled his chosen.

  Cupping her face to his, Viltori kissed her softly, murmuring that she was now their captive and they would not let her go until they were satisfied. However, he spoke not in her language, but Drahka’s. Still, Bithia squirmed restlessly with her bottom up high as her lower body pressed against Viltori.

  “Now Drahka. Feed your cock into her slowly.”

  Sliding his cock up and down the wetness of her lips, he settled against the entrance and pushed forward, using his hips. When a surge of need tried to force him to hurry, he closed his eyes and determinedly held back. Bit by bit he slid inside, her heat welcoming him, her whispered words sounding of surrender and appeasement.

  “Do you like that, Bithia? Tell Drahka how much you love his cock. Tell him how good he feels inside that tight, wet cunt of yours. Tell him you want more of him, all of him, you want to feel him slam into you so hard he takes your breath away.” Viltori said the words slowly into Bithia’s ear, but he kept his gaze on Drahka. Watching as Drahka kept to his even pace of slowly filling Bithia. Feeling her glory as he looked at his teacher’s face sent his senses reeling. Confused by his longings, he closed his eyes, focusing all his attention on Bithia.