I skipped over his groin and swirled my fingertips over his stomach, enjoying the twitch and quiver of his muscles as I advanced. He didn’t have any chest hair. I touched one of his nipples, and he sucked in a hard breath of surprise.
Naturally, I had to touch him again, rubbing the small nub with my thumb until he let out a low growl that made my lips quirk. I switched to his other nipple, ignoring the dark glare he shot at me. I leaned down to press my face against his chest, breathing in his scent. Smoky chocolate with a kick. Like a rich, delicious hot cocoa spiked with cayenne. I scratched his other nipple with my fang and he jerked his arms against the vines holding him down.
Concerned, I started to lift my head to check his reaction. I was all for teasing and torturing a man with lust, but if he wasn’t into it…
:Don’t stop, my queen. Please. Unless you’re ready to bury my blade in my heart.:
:Not even close,: I assured him. :Will it bother you if I bite you again? Or if I fuck you in front of your people?:
:Not in the slightest. Bite me at will, my queen.:
Before I could ask, Rik stepped closer and lifted me up onto the tree. As I settled on Itztli’s lower stomach, he arched up beneath me, straining against his bonds hard enough his wrists started to bleed.
Once I caught the scent of his blood, I couldn’t wait any longer. I bent down and sank my fangs deeply into his pectoral with my tongue on his nipple.
Roaring, he bucked beneath me with release. I felt a bit of guilt that he still wasn’t inside me, and I’d made him come twice now, but not guilty enough to wriggle lower and take him inside me yet.
The tree needed blood. A great deal of blood.
With that thought I lifted my head, letting his blood trickle down his ribcage and splatter the tree beneath him, while I shifted to his other nipple and sank my fangs again. Another wave of release rocked through his body. His blood tasted as good as he smelled, like dark sweet chocolate that blazed down my throat, but the flow wasn’t strong since I didn’t hit a vein. Just a delicious appetizer to stir my hunger.
I sat upright and licked my lips. Itztli stared up at me, his lips parted slightly, showing his fangs. His nostrils flared, and he worked his hips beneath me. I’d forgotten my left hand was still bleeding. I smoothed my bleeding palm over his chest, painting him with my blood. He hissed and squirmed like my blood was acid that burned through his flesh to the bone. The tree liked it too, jerking up taller with our offering.
Holding his gaze, I lifted the razor-sharp blade to my own throat and dragged the tip of the knife down my neck and across both breasts, leaving a thin red line in its wake.
Then I did the same to him, cutting thin, beautiful lines in his chest. Blood welled on his skin, mixing with mine. His tattoos came alive, standing up more solidly against his skin, like they were chiseled out of rock. Green, gold, red, and blue sparkled like jewels in his flesh, the shapes moving and swelling before my eyes.
Like before, in Isis’s pyramid, I could suddenly read the marks, even though I had never seen glyphs like these before.
Flay me, Great One, and I will be your loyal dog for all eternity. My heart is yours.
Oh fuck.
I could only hope She didn’t mean flay literally, as in strip off his skin.
He tipped his head back, baring his throat to me, his body straining up against me. His bond thudded with a heavy thrum of need that made my own desire ratchet higher. Everything else faded. The watching crowd. His sister. His brother, who still knelt where he’d begged me to kill him, too. My own Blood. Though I was always aware of them, they stilled and softened in my mind.
This was for Itztli alone, and our goddesses.
Who very much wanted his blood.
And mine.
And most especially, our pleasure.
10
Shara
Still wrapped tightly around his wrists, the vines shifted his arms closer to me in silent invitation. They wanted more blood, though he’d broken his skin open by twisting against the restraints.
Leaning out as far as I could, I dragged the tip of the obsidian knife up the inside of his forearm, splitting his skin deeper than the thin lines on his chest. Then I switched over to the other arm and did the same, laying both of his wrists wide open to his elbows. Thick, ruby blood glowed in the moonlight. The tree shuddered with him in its grasp, mirroring his reaction. I suddenly wondered if the tree would somehow climax with him next time. If the goddesses would feel his—our pleasure—through the tree.
The resonance deep inside me confirmed the thought. Isis, Coatlicue, and Morrigan would feel our pleasure as the trees feasted on our blood.
No wonder they wanted the heart tree grown in both groves.
I twisted around to reach his legs. His erection brushed my stomach and breasts as I reached out to cut both of his thighs down to his knees. I wasn’t sure where the tendons and muscles were beneath the skin, so I had to hope the goddesses guided my hand, or would at least help me heal him back to full strength.
I’d feel terrible if I caused him to walk with a limp, or gave him long-term pain from a badly healed injury.
:Please,: he whispered in the bond, his voice trembling. :Let me feel your touch just once.:
He still thought I was going to kill him. Maybe I would. I wasn’t sure how far the goddesses would take this sacrifice. But I fully intended to make sure he enjoyed it as much as possible, and more importantly, that I would do my best to heal whatever damage I caused.
But I could certainly make sure this virgin knew the touch of his queen before he died.
I wrapped my bleeding palm around his dick and pulled him through my fist. His hips jerked and he groaned like I’d plunged the blade to the hilt in his abdomen.
:Yes, please.:
I thought he wanted more of my touch on his dick. What man wouldn’t? I pumped him a bit harder, but he groaned and tossed beneath me.
:The knife. Please. I’ll come as hard as when you bit me.:
For the first time, I hesitated, my stomach trembling with a sudden flood of anxiety.
He wanted me to stab him. To bury his own knife in his body.
He wanted it enough to beg, something that wouldn’t come easily to such an old, powerful Aima male who’d contemplated trying to overthrow my impressive alpha just nights ago.
His erection was as big as ever. His bond, wide open to me. The pain from the cuts had fired his lust to new heights.
Pain. Blood. The memory he’d shared flickered through my mind, how they’d had to beat him to subdue him enough to get him off the sib he was trying to share blood with.
Pain aroused him. Even deadly pain, like a knife sinking into him.
I’d been fully prepared to share some rough, bloody lovemaking with him, but he really did want me to kill him, or at least come close to it.
Goddess.
How the fuck did I come to terms with killing him while I fucked him? Every single time? And what would the rest of my Blood think?
:We think that you’re queen enough to give him exactly what he wants most of all,: Rik answered in my head. :If he takes pleasure in it, who cares?:
I cared. :He doesn’t want to be a darkness just to remind me of the light. How can I stab him like that when making love? It’s…:
My brain wanted to say, “It’s horrible,” but my body had other ideas.
So many things were “horrible” to my human sensibilities. Tasting blood. Especially menstrual blood, but Rik and Daire had reveled in my period every chance I’d given them. Biting, sinking teeth deeply into flesh. Poisoning Rik and ultimately killing him. Watching Rik squeeze off Mehen’s air while he fucked my mighty dragon into submission.
Goddess, that had been so hot that even now the memory was almost enough to make me come. And it hadn’t been horrible, not in the slightest, though my brain floundered, trying to point fingers at what Itztli requested of me.
He requested it.
He consented to it
.
He needed me to sink a knife into his body.
Even if I didn’t fully understand why or how he could feel pleasure in it.
Holding his bond so I would sense the slightest hesitation or negative feeling, I cut him again, this time on his biceps. I felt the searing cut sliding across his skin, separating tissue. A white-hot branding iron tore through him, and the immediate surge of need poured through his body.
The dungeon door in the basement of his mind flew open, revealing his deepest, darkest desires.
Flayed. Stabbed. Cut open. The images flickered through his mind. While I rode his cock and screamed with release. I shuddered with dread, my mind flinching at the horror. But I didn’t pull away. I sat with his image in my head, adjusting to it. I’d taken him. I’d claimed him for my Blood.
It was my privilege and honor to take care of them, as they took care of me. They fed me, blood, power and body, whatever I needed. Without hesitation, they’d lay down their lives for me. How could I turn away from Itztli’s need, even if that need was something that made his own stomach churn with hatred and dread?
He hated this need. He hated himself. He was so sure that I would feel the same hatred, that he’d rather die than allow this monstrosity, as he believed himself to be, to taint me in any way.
I rose up enough to slide backward over his cock. Ever so slowly, I pushed him inside of me, enjoying the way he gasped and shuddered, his hands twisted, reaching for me despite the vines holding him in place. He looked up at me, his eyes black blazing pits of desire, his face stark in the moonlight.
Seated deep within me, he sucked in a shuddering breath and closed his eyes. He relaxed, all the tension and fight bleeding away, his face softening. When he finally opened his eyes to meet my gaze, his eyes were haunted with regret. Not because he regretted making the decision to allow me this sacrifice.
Instead, because now I must go through with killing him. He didn’t want to cause me pain or sadness, even if it was to put him out of his misery.
Swallowing a hard lump in my throat, I tightened my muscles and ground my clit against him, pushing my desire higher. I rocked on him, driving my hips harder. I let my head fall back on a ragged groan. Desire coiled inside me ever tighter. Pushing me closer to release.
He panted beneath me, his hips rising to meet mine, an involuntary rocking motion as old as time. :Thank you, my queen.:
The first wave of climax rolled through me. I closed my eyes. Isis, Great One, guide me.
:Thank you, my Blood.:
Without opening my eyes, I plunged the blade into his body.
Mehen
Well, fuck. I wasn’t the only Blood she’d stabbed now. Though I hadn’t been Blood when she stabbed me with her pocket knife to keep my dragon from draining her dry.
The Blood beneath her let out a mighty bellow of release, his back arching so hard that he pushed them both up off the tree’s branches. No one watching would mistake that sound for a scream of pain or denial or fear. Not with his hips jerking and spasming beneath her.
I wasn’t sure where she’d actually stabbed him. It didn’t matter. She could have sliced and diced his liver for all I cared. Isis’s last daughter would heal whatever damage she’d done, and Itztli had certainly enjoyed it.
Though the big bear looked a bit queasy. Daire pressed against Ezra, his arms around his waist, comforting him. I waited a minute to see if I felt a surge of jealousy or rage that the purring, sassy cat I’d fucked was cuddling up to another. Shockingly, I didn’t care. How could I? As long as our queen fucked me again, or at least asked me to her bed again, I couldn’t care less who else Daire fucked.
He had been mine, and likely would again, but only because I was hers, and we all belonged to her.
The gasps from the crowd made me focus on Shara again. She jerked the blade through the man beneath her and reached down, working her hand inside him. And yeah, I suddenly felt a bit queasy myself. I found myself closer to Daire and Ezra, sandwiching the cat between us.
Guillaume grunted with disgust. “Pussies. Our queen should carve you open next.”
“That’s easy for you to say, since you’re the fucking headless knight,” I retorted.
The ancient Templar knight smiled, and you could have knocked me over with a feather. I would have sworn the grim man’s face would have shattered into a million pieces before he’d ever make a joke or grin. “We’re all headless knights. Now he’s heartless too.”
Indeed, Shara lifted her bloody hand above her head, gripping a lump that very well could have been a heart.
It thumped and jerked in her hand, still very much alive.
She stepped down off the altar and the tree surged upwards, growing higher and taller as we watched. Branches thickened and spread out above our heads, sprouting leaves in seconds.
“Wondrous,” the other queen whispered, her voice shaking with both reverence and sobs. “Our very own world tree, like the legends of creation. But at such cost.”
Mayte stepped closer to her other brother, who was still kneeling on the ground, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.
“It’s what he wanted.” Tlacel’s voice sounded like he’d swallowed slivers of glass. “His torment is over.”
“Yes.” Shara’s voice echoed with power, a deep, silent thrum I felt in my bones. “His heart grew this tree for you. His heart’s desire is now mine.”
The tree towered above us, taller than the heart tree she’d grown in her nest. There, she’d used her blood to grow a whole grove. Here, only one tree stood, powered by her blood and Itztli’s sacrifice.
I stared at the thumping heart. All of us did. I held my breath, waiting for it to cease beating. He had to die. He didn’t have a heart.
Yet his organ continued to beat steadily in her palm.
“Itztli,” she called in that deep goddess voice. “Come down from our tree and take what’s yours.”
I couldn’t see the other Blood any longer—the tree was too high. The trunk was big enough that it’d take two or three of us to reach completely around it. Wood creaked and cracked above us, as if a strong breeze moved swept through the branches. A dark hole opened in the trunk, groaning and complaining as it widened into a doorway.
Itztli stepped out of the trunk and dropped to his knees before our queen. Blood dripped from the open wound in his chest. Bone glistened in the moonlight, ribs cracked and pushed open. His eyes glittered like facets of obsidian.
“My queen.”
She leaned down and pressed her lips to his in a gentle kiss. Then she shoved her hand into his chest, giving him back his heart. He seized her arms and pulled her closer, clutching her as his body thrashed.
“There,” she whispered against his lips. “It’s done. Now take your reward, Itztli.”
She turned her head, offering him her throat. He lunged up and sank his fangs into the side of her neck. Leaning back on his heels, he drew her down on top of his thighs, locking her tightly to him.
Her hunger rose, drawing us all closer to her. Her blood burned. Her desire called us to her need. But one burned hotter than all of us.
Tlacel, the only Blood who’d never given our queen pleasure, or, at least, had never been in her bed. He waited, still on his knees, though his eyes blazed with joy that his brother still lived.
Shara looked at him over her shoulder. “Itztli would very much like to taste pleasure in my blood.”
The man moved closer and dropped to his knees behind her. He lifted his hands to touch her, but hesitated, his fingers trembling.
I wanted to make a snide comment, but the words wouldn’t come. I was fairly certain I’d probably trembled with wonder like that the first time she’d taken me.
He finally smoothed his palms down either side of her delicate spine and settled his hands on her hips. She arched back against him, encouraging him with the glide of her body. As he slid inside her, her breath caught on a moan that echoed deep in the pit of my stomach. My dick was har
d enough to cut diamonds, and I’d wager all of us were on the verge of spilling, just from the glorious sound of welcome and hunger she made.
Even Rik. I glanced at our alpha, not surprised to see him the closest to her, his erection as painfully large and throbbing as mine. As all of ours.
Flames suddenly shot up into the night, making the Zaniyah clan gasp and mill around like anxious sheep. I’d noticed the large stack of wood for a bonfire earlier, but after the deluge, it shouldn’t have caught fire.
The silent Blood materialized between Guillaume and me, making even the knight jerk a hand toward his closest blade before realizing Xin wasn’t a threat. “I believe one of her gifts is fire.”
Daire nodded. “Yep, her first gift. She used it to burn up a master thrall when it was just me and Rik.”
The crowd’s mood shifted from fearful and grief-stricken to celebratory in moments. Drums started up and people danced around the large fire. Someone brought out vats of wine and tequila, and a cheer went up.
No, wait, that was just Tlacel, shouting out his release. Then the cheer went up.
The twins helped her stand, each holding on to her hand like she’d sprout wings and fly away if they didn’t keep a solid grip on her.
My eyes narrowed, my teeth bared.
The hell if they were going to control who she turned to, or when. I felt her need still burning, far from sated. She hadn’t even fed much yet, and after that demonstration, and the battle with Ra’s minions…
Oh, fuck. Of course.
She came closer to Xin, her eyes glittering like hard diamonds in the moonlight. “He’s still alive?”
“Yes, my queen.” Xin shrugged one shoulder. “Barely.”
She turned to Mayte. “I need a place that’s private enough for an interrogation.”
“Of course. You can use the room below the house, where you saw Xochitl the first time. Do you need me or my Blood to show you the way?”
She smiled at Xin and shook her head. “No, my wolf knows the way. I trust you’ll take care of your traitor yourself?”
Queen Takes Rook (Their Vampire Queen Book 4) Page 7
