by Lacey Savage
He’d been with many women in his life. Men, too. He knew the nuances of each sex, knew how to tease them, please them, have them begging for more. What he didn’t know was what to do with a woman who trained others in the carnal arts, a priestess who looked like she’d walked out of a teenage boy’s wildest fantasy, a goddess who was comfortable with offering her body and allowing herself every pleasure Saint Valentine condoned.
Her kiss, however, told a different story.
She kissed him slowly, as though uncertain of herself. The tip of her tongue stroked along his almost reverently, sending lightning streaming down his veins. Saints, how long had it been since this woman had been kissed? She seemed lost and hesitant, her responses fluctuating between brash aggressiveness and uncharacteristic modesty.
When she swept her tongue along the crease of his lips, Dante’s hands flew down to grip her ass. His fingers dug into her flesh as he lifted her off the ground and growled into her mouth.
To his surprise, she growled back. Aggressiveness, she obviously knew how to handle. Sensual caresses and a delicate approach threw her off her game.
Good to know.
Her delicate exploration of his lips, tongue, and mouth turned savage. She nipped at his lower lip, drawing it into her mouth, sucking on it until his cock swelled to impossible proportions, digging into her stomach, making its needs known to anyone who cared to pay attention.
And Dante cared. Damn, the way his shaft throbbed and pulsed, he’d have to be dead not to care. Sophia’s growl reverberated through him, making him tremble when her mouth parted under his, offering more of herself to him.
He eased back with a groan to whisper, “If this was your plan all along, Priestess, you could have let me fuck you in the garden.”
Her head jerked back as if she’d been slapped. She snaked out of his arms, her silk robe rustling and slipping against his skin. Without a word, she marched toward the Academy exit.
“Hey,” he called out, rushing after her. His balls ached, the throbbing sensation driving him wild with wanting. “What’d I say?”
She spun on him and jabbed her index finger into his chest. “Let’s get this straight. I’m not in the habit of fucking without a contract, and my services are not for sale. I won’t be purchased for a few hours of bliss, even if you could afford me.”
Dante’s mind reeled as he struggled to remember all the nuances of government regulations. Sex was restricted to those who could enter into a contract regulated by Terran government laws. Without a solid contract, the act of engaging in any kind of erotic play wasn’t just forbidden, it was illegal.
Saints, no wonder Alphas had run off this planet as quickly as their paws could carry them. Their wild, animalistic natures called out for the passionate act of mating while the possessive part of them demanded the intimacy sex created between two people.
He cupped Sophia’s face in both palms, forcing her to look at him. She was even more beautiful when she was angry, her black eyes darkening to deep onyx, a flush tinting the apples of her high cheekbones. Saints help him; he wanted to devour her whole.
Struggling to get his libido in check, he skimmed the tips of his thumbs across her cheeks. “Hey, I’m sorry. I-I’m not used to this.”
“What? Common courtesy?”
Ouch. He supposed he deserved that. “Keeping myself in check.”
Her eyes softened and her brows unfurrowed, smoothing back into the high arches that suited her delicate features. “Captain Jolen’s deposit makes it clear that he owns you, at least as long as you’re here. I could get involved in public because the entire point was to demonstrate your prowess. Now that we’re alone, I can’t interfere with those patron-servant bonds.”
He brushed his lips against hers in a tender, barely-there kiss. “Even if I’m not a servant?”
“You may not be a servant, but I’m still the High Priestess. And the only way to fuck me is to ‑‑” She clamped her mouth shut, grimacing as though she’d said too much.
“To?” Dante prodded.
She hesitated, and for a moment he thought she wouldn’t answer. Shadows flittered across her face as she fought an obvious internal battle that had him wishing he could kiss her agitation away.
At last, she embedded her teeth in her lower lip and swallowed hard, not meeting his eyes. “To be my Flame.”
Saints, why had she told him?
She’d been so taken by the genuine curiosity in his eyes and his soft, feather-light kisses that not telling him didn’t seem to make any sense. He was an Alpha. He had as much to risk by being on Earth as she did by divulging the Academy’s secrets.
The blistering need to share parts of herself with him made no sense. He was under her protection, but he was also a stranger, a man who could hurt her and everyone else at the Academy, if he chose to align with Terran officials rather than his own kind. Still, Faye trusted him. That had to count for something.
“I don’t understand. Tell me what I have to do. What you need from me?” Dante stood so close she could feel his breath fan her lips when he spoke. The sensation unnerved her even more than his tender words, so Sophia stepped back, out of his reach.
Putting some much-needed distance between them dissipated the fog of arousal that clouded her mind and prevented her from thinking straight. Unfortunately, it also made her heart pound wildly against her chest, the loss of his taut muscles pressed close to her suddenly physically painful to bear.
She turned away before she could do something stupid, like throw herself back into those strong, powerful arms and kiss him savagely until he fucked her right there on the altar.
“Come. I said I’d show you to your room. I’m sure you’d like to bathe and see to those wounds.”
Fuck. Just mentioning the raw welts on his sculpted buttocks caused her pussy to clench with remembered pleasure. Cream slicked her nether lips and the scent of her arousal intensified as she strode out the side doors, until she was certain he’d be able to detect her heightened excitement even without his ultra-sensitive Alpha nose.
Dante fell into step beside her and they walked out of the Temple onto the Academy’s grounds. She expected him to pepper her with more questions, but he remained blissfully silent. Even their bare feet made no noise as they touched the marble walkway leading through the narrow outdoor passage to the servants’ quarters.
The glistening path snaked through the cloister, where sunlight beamed through the side colonnade and latticed roof. Sophia kept her gaze fixed firmly on the ground, watching her shadow lengthening alongside Dante’s. They cut striking silhouettes against the pale marble, the dark edges of their outlines only inches away from touching and melding into one another. If she stepped just a little closer, their shadows would unite and merge into one, making it impossible to discern where Sophia ended and Dante began.
Her chest tightened as the full impact of that thought slammed into her. She’d always been so sure of her calling. She’d been born on the Academy grounds. Her childhood had been spent under the protective gazes of priestesses just like her. She knew the dangers that lurked outside the walls, and she’d heard stories of the freedom that could be found outside Terran influence.
She could have left the Academy at any time. Left Earth, if she’d chosen to. Yet she’d stayed, out of obligation to her patron saint and her own fervent belief that she was following the path laid out for her.
Yet now, walking alongside Dante, she wondered whether there was more to life than playing a well-rehearsed role. Since she was old enough to understand the other priestess’ teachings, she knew exactly how her destiny would unfold. What would it be like not to know? To experience each moment as though it hadn’t already been scripted far in advance? To make each decision worrying of nothing but that moment’s pleasure? To give in to her rampant need and let Dante fuck her senseless until he brought her to the height of ecstasy that culminated in an offering worthy of Saint Valentine’s greatest blessing?
She s
hook her head, snapping herself out of such absurd thoughts. The carefree, pleasure-filled life she imagined wasn’t hers. It never would be.
She had a duty to perform. If Saint Valentine had delivered Dante into her path to be used in the Lighting of the Flame ceremony, then so be it. She’d fulfill her responsibility to the best of her abilities, but that was all. She wouldn’t allow herself to get emotionally involved or give into flights of fancy that stepped outside the boundaries of her position.
Sophia rounded a bend in the path and strode past a series of wooden doors leading to individual servants’ rooms. Most were occupied, but there were a few at the end of the path that had remained empty since last year. Although the Terran government delivered yearly shipments of newly-created pleasure servants to be trained by the Academy when they reached the age of fourteen, she never knew how many bio-engineered specimens would arrive. Some years, they only dropped off a handful. Other years, the Academy barely had enough space to house them all, and many had to double-up in the small, intimate quarters.
“Welcome to your home, for as long as you’re with us,” Sophia said, pressing her palm to the scanner embedded just outside the door frame. The vid-screen flared a deep red color and her hand tingled as the security system analyzed her handprint.
A sharp beep echoed a moment before the lock mechanism clicked and the door swung open of its own accord. “You’ll need to have your handprint read, too, so you can come and go as you please.”
Dante nodded and followed her instructions, pressing his broad, masculine palm to the sleek screen. The system flared to life, shimmering orange, green, then finally red as it approved its new occupant’s seal.
Sophia gestured toward the open door. “You’ll find everything you need inside. If you require something that hasn’t already been provided for you, press the call button beside the bed. Someone will see to your needs.”
She spun around, eager to return to the showing and surround herself with familiar faces. Guiding Dante to his room had seemed like a good idea at the time, but it had proven to be a grave error in judgment. She should have sent someone else to look after her guest. Someone with the ability to resist his animalistic presence.
At least out in the courtyard, she knew who was in charge. Here, alone with a man who awakened fevered desires and fantasies of giving in to those carnal flames, she also knew who had the upper hand.
And it wasn’t her.
Dante’s fingers on her elbow stopped her dead in her tracks. He pressed his body to hers from behind, the thick line of his erection molding to her spine, heating her skin through the silk material of her robe.
“You’re the only one who can see to my needs. And I think I’m the only one who can see to yours.” His low baritone rumbled in her ear and through her body. Lust flared to life, beading her nipples and making the tight buds scrape across the thin fabric.
She chuckled, wanting to appear dismissive. Instead, the sound chimed hoarse and uneven to her own ears. “Persistence isn’t going to get you anywhere with me. Neither will arrogance.”
He nipped at her earlobe, drawing it between his teeth. When he released it, she couldn’t help the groan that echoed from her throat.
“What’s a Flame?” he asked, his breath skittering across her ear.
Sophia sighed. She should have known the man wouldn’t be deterred so easily. It was her own damn fault for opening her mouth. There was a reason High Priestesses chose the Flames on Festival night. It was so much easier to drug them and ensure their participation in the ceremony if they’d already been indulging on their own.
The liquid ecstasy provided by the Temple did nothing to hinder a man’s performance, but it did wonders for dulling his short-term memory. Ensuring the Flame didn’t remember a thing the next morning had been key to guaranteeing the Academy’s secrets remained hidden from the authorities.
She swallowed hard, wondering if she could distract him from pressing her on her stupid admission. “There are clothes in the closet, though they may not fit. They’ve been tailored specifically to match a pleasure servant’s measurements, and you’re…umm…”
“Bigger,” he provided helpfully. “In every way.”
Another moan lodged in her throat. She wanted to accuse him of boastful arrogance again, but this time his egotism was well-deserved. Every pleasure slave who walked out of a government laboratory was the exact same height and weight as the one before him. Oh, they had different eye and hair colors to appeal to a wide variety of patrons, but the rest of their physiques were identical, right down to the girth and length of their well-crafted cocks.
Everything about Dante screamed he was one of a kind. Although he hadn’t been created to take his place among those who delivered pleasure on command, Dante flaunted his sexuality with the ease of someone who knew what he had to offer and took pride in his ability to turn heads.
While the government laboratories produced the type of pleasure servants who appealed to a dominant patron, there were those who craved a little more adventure…a little more uncertainty.
Like her.
She closed her eyes, forcing a deep breath into her lungs. This was quickly getting out of hand.
“A Flame is someone who takes part in a worship ceremony.” There, that was true, and with any luck it would keep him from asking anything else. “Now, if you’ll let go of me, I need to get back to the others.”
The pressure on her elbow eased. She breathed a small sigh of relief as she felt him move away. For the span of a few heartbeats, Sophia waited for the inevitable barrage of follow-up questions, wondering how she’d continue to evade his dogged determination to figure out what drove her to help him in the first place.
Nothing happened.
Sophia stiffened her spine, refusing to turn around and find out what he was doing. She shuffled from foot to foot, knowing she should take the opportunity to march out of the cloister, but unable to bring herself to walk away.
This was it? Could he really be satisfied with such a standard, evasive answer? Disappointment slid through her like a lightning bolt. She should have been glad he’d given up. That was what she’d wanted…wasn’t it?
Gritting her teeth, she spun around quickly, only to find herself alone. Her gaze darted to Dante’s door, which still gaped open, echoing a silent invitation that slid through her core and burrowed deep into her cunt, pulsing with heat and expectation.
Get away. Walk away. Run away.
The thoughts slipped through her mind like scattered beads of mercury. One step brought her closer to his door, then another and another until she stood in the doorway and peered inside the interior of the small chamber.
“Dante?”
Darkness seeped into every corner. The blinds draping the singular window on the opposite wall were drawn tight and the lamp beside the standard-issue bed remained unlit. She could make out the white sheets neatly tucked beneath the one-person mattress and the pale, undecorated walls. To the left, a small doorway led into the adjoining bathroom.
The servants’ quarters were stark by design. While the training areas inside the Academy more than made up for the austere décor in the individual rooms, these bedchambers were intended for sleep and quiet meditation. Any training activities were to be conducted in the designated pleasure areas.
She stepped over the threshold, ignoring the alarm bells ringing in her ears. She’d just make sure he was settled in and had everything he needed. Then she’d leave. Really.
“Why, High Priestess… I do believe you’re trespassing.”
Sophia allowed a small smile to grace her lips. “My Academy. My rooms.”
Dante leaned against the frame leading to the bathroom, his presence overtaking the entire interior of the room. Suddenly, the place felt even smaller than it was and it took all of Sophia’s self-control not to step back into the relative safety of the cloister.
It had to be the darkness that cast menacing shadows around Dante’s muscular form
. He was taller than her by at least a foot, yet he hadn’t appeared quite so powerful outside. Here, in the claustrophobic interior of the servant’s chamber, he seemed larger than life.
A turbulent shimmer of awareness traveled through Sophia’s veins, reminding her that she was as powerful as he was. The same animalistic desires ran through them both. The same Alpha urges drove them, and it was that mutated DNA that drew her to him, not his kisses or the careful, almost reverent way in which he touched her.
As long as she kept reminding herself that it was her nature and not her emotions pulling her forward, she could keep a tight grip on her reactions to this man.
Regaining a measure of self-control, Sophia crossed her arms over her breasts. She focused on his silhouette and breathed in his scent. Earthy and rich, it seeped into the filtered air and imbued it with the aroma of male sweat and desire, an irresistible aphrodisiac to any woman. Even one trained to withstand every seductive skill known to mankind.
The Alpha in her, however, knew nothing of counteracting the spell of heat and raw desire woven by an Alpha male. A purr lodged in her chest, tickling the column of her throat.
“Tell me, Priestess…”
His words drifted away into nothingness and she found herself stepping closer, pulled forward by the playful promise in his voice. Somehow, she didn’t mind when he dropped the first part of her title. Just calling her “priestess” seemed intimate, shrinking the distance between them.
He lifted his right hand, showing her a jar she recognized instantly as the container of soothing balm that was a staple of every servant’s room. Used to cool the sting of an instructor’s whip, it was as much a part of the training as the whip itself.
Dante advanced on her, then used his foot to slam the door shut. The sound resonated with finality, causing Sophia to start as her stomach flip-flopped.
He reached down and captured her wrist. Turning her hand over, he dropped the jar into her palm.
“Would helping me relieve the bite of the Captain’s crop cross the boundaries of propriety?”
