by Ophelia Bell
With a sated sigh, Nyla moved to the side and collapsed into Zeb’s arms, letting him nuzzle and whisper into her ear.
Idrin slipped out of her and released her legs. Belah was too weak and giddy from the exchange to move, but Nikhil was there, his strong arms scooping her up and pulling her back down as he reclined onto his back, carrying her with him. Around her, her pets sank into the pillows, relaxed and satisfied, their earlier agitation completely gone.
Nikhil’s heart thudded beneath her ear, his arms squeezing her to him tightly enough to alarm her. She glanced up to his face and was greeted with an unreadable mask, his dark eyes fixed somewhere above him.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
His gaze shifted to meet hers, the muscles of his jaw twitching with tension. Within his eyes she caught a glimmer of that wild beast, as though it were caged and pacing, eager to be set free. Reaching out with her mind, she risked a deeper look, but before her powers could sink into his mind, he spoke.
“Never again, ‘Iilahatan. This was my gift to you, but never again will another male lay hands on you, whether he be slave or king, or even a god. You are mine.”
Chapter Twelve
Nikhil led her back the way they came without giving her the opportunity to bathe again.
“It is time for the mistress to judge her worth,” he’d said shortly to Belah’s pets, who gaped at his abrupt manner in the aftermath of their orgy.
Nyla tried to object, but Belah shot her a warning look as Nikhil fastened the collar around her neck again and yanked her toward the door while she was still hurriedly wrapping the skirt back around her waist.
A cool evening breeze blew through the palace’s public courtyard as he led her back through. The slick remnants of pleasure her pets had left all over her skin dried into tight patches, no doubt visible to anyone who glanced at her. The people did more than glance this time. They openly stared and pointed. Belah could hear the thread of rumors beginning like a pebble tossed in a pond—had she displeased the empress? What would happen to her?
In spite of their derision, Belah’s senses went wild. Her nipples hardened more with every utterance of the word “whore” and her pussy grew hot with the tittered suggestions that she might be forced to spread her legs for all of them, if the empress wished. Belah would have never tortured anyone that way, but knew she wasn’t immune to rumors. None of her subjects seemed to live in fear of such a threat, at any rate, as their auras all pulsed with avid interest.
A harsh yank of her collar brought her up short.
Nikhil stepped around her in the center of the courtyard and all the curious citizens shrank back. His eyes flashed wildly beneath his brows as he stared at them all.
“You are all ungrateful peons!” he yelled. “Your empress expects more respect from you for her other subjects. This young woman just endured a harrowing test. Which she passed. Her reward is a night with her goddess. You should all be so lucky.”
Grumbling, he moved on and Belah followed, dazed by his outburst. When they reached her room he pushed her to her knees and let her leash fall to the ground before disappearing back out the door.
Belah remained there, dazed and staring at the floor for a few moments, until Nikhil returned with a bustling column of her servants, each one toting a bucket of steaming water, which they carried into her bathing chamber and dumped into her tub. She watched as though outside herself for the first time that day, too confused by her experience, followed by Nikhil’s shift in mood, to be able to properly process how she should react. He was fully in control now, and seemed to understand as much. When the last servant exited her room, Nikhil stripped naked, then returned to her.
“Look at me, ‘Iilahatan,” he said softly, kneeling down to her level and nudging her chin up with one gentle finger.
She raised her head and met his gaze. Deep weariness filled in his gaze, reminding her of the day she’d found him on his death bed. If she didn’t know better, she might think he’d just returned from a protracted battle, and one hard-won. She ached to tell him that he had won, in the end. He had her heart.
His rough fingertips grazed her bare scalp and moved lower, unclasping her collar and throwing it across the room. Then he abruptly scooped her into his arms and carried her into her bath chamber, lowering them both into the steaming water.
The tub was large enough for them both to stretch out comfortably, but he kept her cradled in his arms, holding her on his lap while he gently cleaned her with a soft cloth. His hand moved over her with swift efficiency, rubbing the sweet soap into her skin over and over until every remnant of the day had been removed. He dipped the cloth between her thighs and she opened up for him obediently, though she expected the same rough, quick, utilitarian movements he’d used on the rest of her body.
He slowed when he pressed the cloth against her folds, and for the first time, Belah realized how ragged his breathing was and how tightly his shoulders were bunched beneath the arm she had draped over them.
She reached down and guided his hand against her, the strokes meant to clean more than arouse, but his fist clenched and stilled, refusing to be budged.
She took a deep breath, letting herself absorb the emotions flowing out of him. Nothing but want reached her. Desire for her to be his alone, to share with no other, but his underlying need to satisfy her overrode that desire. He defined himself by her satisfaction. Yet he still presented himself like her master.
“I do not like you like this.” His voice grated coarsely against her ear. “You are not a slave and I would not make you one, ever. I don’t wish to own you the way you own your pets. Whatever you give to me, I need to know you give it freely and not because I torture it from you. Please… bring my little beast back. Show me I have not broken your spirit today.” Nikhil’s words cracked with emotion, the hitch in his voice finally giving Belah the jolt she needed to understand what he feared. He didn’t want her docile any more than she did him. Without that flame of rebellion and wildness inside him, she would never have been drawn to him. Seeing her submit to a roomful of slaves had been too much for him to witness.
Belah slipped off his lap, letting herself sink beneath the water. She held her breath, remaining beneath the surface with her eyes closed. In the hot cocoon of her bath, all her senses dulled except the awareness of her magic. She ached to calm his worry and could have easily with her breath, but knew he needed so much more than a temporary remedy today. If only she could offer him a permanent remedy instead. Beneath the water she let the illusion of the slave girl dissolve. As she rose from beneath, her preferred human shape returned as though being born fresh.
Nikhil’s gaze slipped down her wet body, the weariness disappearing to be replaced by that desire that he’d left banked. When she let her horns and a glimmer of her scales appear, his need blazed hotter. If she had requested, she sensed he would surrender to her now, and let himself be commanded. He would kneel before his goddess.
Instead, she simply slid back into his lap, smiling at his surprise.
“Nikhil. I am yours.”
His hands squeezed, holding her closer as he pulled back slightly to look at her. “Are you really? Can you tell me with certainty that there isn’t some piece of you that you hold in check? If you are mine, truly, I want more. I don’t want to hide behind some glamour to be with you in public.”
“You wish to be my consort? That would be a public declaration of your service to me. It could never be the other way around.”
He regarded her silently, his gaze flitting from the tips of her horns down over her sapphire-colored scales. Even her nipples were blue when she shifted to this degree, letting just enough of her true nature show. Nikhil raised one wet hand and hooked the tip of his pinky through one shining golden ring, tugging just to the point of pain.
Belah’s power surged, resulting in a flash from her eyes that was reflected as blu
e light in his pupils.
In a gruff voice he asked, “What does your kind do? Surely, you take mates? Or do you only breed with your own brothers?”
The question made her stiffen in his arms. “The legends are often fabricated for effect, I hope you realize,” she said, avoiding his gaze.
“I am not blind, little beast. Your brother was careful, but I could see plainly how his visit affected you. The two of you share too much. But I am not concerned with what gods and goddesses do together. My entire life I have heard the stories of how close you and Osiris are—what you once shared. What I want is to give you the thing you wish for. Let me give you a child.”
“What makes you think this is the thing I want?” Belah’s mind whirled, trying to remember where Nikhil had been during her conversation with Ked. Normally she would have been aware of his every movement through her palace, but her brother’s magic had the confounding ability to distract her and dull her own power when he was near. Ked would have known if Nikhil was listening. So if Nikhil eavesdropped somehow, it had to have been her brother’s doing.
“Isn’t it?” Nikhil asked. Beneath Belah’s backside, his cock stiffened.
He reached a hand up to turn her head back so their eyes met, and she let him, unable to control her own reaction because she wanted it. Her nature made her crave it. Normally her mark on a man would be enough to incite her desire to breed with him. She’d always viewed that tactic as an artificial incentive. With Nikhil she knew that love, and perhaps his Blessing, were enough to make her want a child with him. The problem was that the mark was still required to make it happen.
“I can’t want it with you,” she said, tears welling in her eyes. Her lip began to quiver and she bit it viciously.
“Why not? I would become your consort in public. We could have our own vows in private—with Meri and your brother, and whoever else knows who you truly are. I’d hoped after all this time with me you would already carry my child, but now I believe it isn’t so simple with you. What do we need to do, Belah?”
Belah stared at him, confounded by his use of her name. She was always either elevated by his words of grandeur or diminished by his sweet pet names. He’d called her Belah again for the second time in as many weeks. Not “little beast,” or his favorite version of “goddess.” He’d used her name. Right now, they weren’t adversaries in any way. They weren’t a master and his beast. They weren’t a goddess and her subject. They were two people in love, and he wanted to know how to make her his bride.
Tears trickled over her cheeks, unbidden, and her eyelids burned.
“Nikhil, I’m immortal. You are not. If I mated you, my power would overwhelm you to the point that you would be my slave. I will never make you a slave.”
He nodded gravely, his jaw set. After a moment, his brows rose again. “I would become like you if I could. Is there not a magic spell that can transform me? I want to be your equal, Belah.”
His need pressed into her mind and she clenched her eyes shut tightly. He wanted it so badly, but what he wanted was simply impossible.
“No, my love.”
“Never?” he asked.
“I cannot turn you into a dragon, and the only way to make a child with you is to mark you, which I won’t do. Not unless you wish to lose your free will. If you only wished to be another of my pets, then I would do it. But even my pets have the power to do as they wish. They are treasured and pampered, but can choose to leave if they wish. You would not have that choice. Sharing my bed means you will live longer than most already. Let us enjoy this time. Perhaps you will tire of me in the future, and then we will part.”
A low growl rumbled from his chest and his hands squeezed her hip.
“Never, ‘Iilahatan. Now that I have you, why would I ever desert you? I am yours, mark or not.” He rose up out of the water, still gripping her hips, and set her on the edge of her bath. “And you are mine,” he said, pushing her knees to her chest, letting her thighs fall wide, and looking down at her spread pussy.
Belah’s flesh heated and grew thick and full under her lover’s gaze. His fingers parted her slowly as he licked his lips, his soft caresses familiar, yet incendiary.
With one finger, he idly flicked the little scarab jewel that was attached to her clit. A jolt of pleasure shot through her.
“Nikhil!”
He chuckled. “I take what’s mine.”
Slowly, he bent and captured first her scarab between his lips, letting it pull at her flesh, then swiped his tongue lower, tickling up between her cleft and lingering in a slow swirl at her clit. Belah leaned back onto her elbows and then lay back entirely, enjoying the languid way he devoured her, as though she were a special treat prepared just for him to savor. He seemed content to simply taste her, without pushing her higher. He preferred to make her come while giving her pain, which was her preference, too. Every nerve in her body was under his control during those moments—every sensation hers to feel under his touch, and she wanted them all. He would work up to it, and she would relish each slow stretch of pleasure tiered one atop the other.
“I want to be mates in the eyes of the gods. Husband and wife, the two of us.” His dark gaze met her from between her thighs, but Belah only wanted him to keep doing what he was doing.
She grabbed his thick hair and pressed his face back to her core.
He licked her once and raised up over her, pulling her hands away from his head and holding them above her head with one hand.
“Little beast, remember who your master is.” As if to emphasize his point, one thick finger swirled in the well of her pussy, gathered moisture, then slid deep into her ass. Belah squirmed, elated by the pleasure of that invasion. She alternated between wanting to expel him and keep him tight inside her.
“You had that Nubian in your ass today. He was big, and you didn’t complain. I want what he had. And I promise I’ll do more justice to your ass than he could ever think of.”
Before she could process his comment further, Nikhil flipped her body and pulled her toward him until she was forced to step back into the bath with her hips bent over the edge. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him reach for the cloth again and the bar of sweet-smelling soap.
Again, he parted her folds, this time with soapy fingers, working his way up and down along her slit and over her spread ass cheeks. Each slick sweep of his fingers made her hotter. Suddenly, he smacked her hard on the ass with one wet hand, the moisture making the contact sting in a way it wouldn’t have had they both been dry.
Wet heat flooded between her thighs and she tilted her hips against the rounded edge of her bathtub, needing the sharp pleasure of her scarab to rub harder at her clit.
Again, he smacked her, harder this time. “No moving, little beast. I need to wash the spunk of all those other men off you before I take my fill tonight. The dark one came deep in you, didn’t he?”
Belah’s mind was already wild with pleasure, and she had trouble processing his words at first. “The dark one” was another term used for her brother, and the suggestion brought back an ancient memory that made her almost cry in protest. Of all the illicit things she had done in her long life, her relationship with Ked was still sacred. They were long past that phase of their lives, and the loss they’d shared was something neither of them spoke of anymore.
Nikhil’s avid attention to her tender ass reminded her what he really meant by that comment and his earlier reference to the Nubian. Belah had all but forgotten about the day, but now the events returned in vivid detail. Idrin, with his black-as-night skin and his cock buried deep in her backside. She’d been a different person then, one who would be willing to take whatever they chose to give.
Nikhil swirled his soapy fingertips around her slick, tight opening before she could reply. He plunged a thumb into her and fucked in and out with the most delicious roughness that was all the more exciting for
how straightforward he was about it, twisting it like he needed to scrub her from the inside out. The invasion was rough enough to cause pain and make her push back toward him, her cunt throbbing. From beside the bath, he grabbed an empty ewer and filled it from the bathwater, pouring it over her while he spread her open with the fingers of his other hand.
Steaming hot water sluiced over her tender flesh, searing her with pleasure. It didn’t hurt, but the extreme temperature change shocked her in the best way. She’d never felt such heat beyond a strike or the pain of the piercings he’d given her. Every bit of pain Nikhil bestowed on her was sacred to her, and this heat in particular thrilled her for its newness. She loved the tender, escalating burn of it that aroused all sensation, coming close to pain and almost surpassing it. What would it feel like if the pain escalated gradually?
“You like the heat, beast? Maybe I could better cleanse you with my own seed.”
With another smack on her ass, he urged her to stand. Belah followed him out of the tub, hypersensitive to his touch when he dried her off and led her to her bed, wondering how he would replicate that sensation. She was at his mercy, but could still direct his attention in some ways.
He treated her so delicately in these in-between moments, as though he reverted to the worshiper rather than the master when he wasn’t giving her pleasure. These were the moments when his love showed the most.
Now he gripped her hand in his and led her through her chamber, looking back with adoration every few seconds, enraptured with her every step.
When her horns hooked one of the sheer draperies that hung across a doorway he led her through, she remembered she’d been slightly shifted the entire time. In the confused tangle, he laughed and pulled the cloth off, smiling down at her and smoothing his hand up over the length of her horn.
Her nostrils flared at the sudden sensation and she let out a moan. She’d forgotten how sensitive her horns could be in the right hands. Specifically, in the hands of someone who truly loved her. Sweet Mother, he loved her, didn’t he?
