Dark Empress: The Onic Empire, Book 5

by Anitra Lynn McLeod

  Glancing over her shoulder, she drew a short breath. “What are you doing?”

  Touching her with only his breath when he hungered to do so much more, he said, “I’m admiring your dress.” Goose bumps washed along the backs of her arms. “Did he slide his finger into you?”

  She closed her eyes, her lips parting with shock, but then she asked, “Why are you doing this?”

  “Because I’m curious.” Fearing that she might bolt, he placed his hands gently on her shoulders. Not holding her but reminding her that she should stay. “Tell me how good it felt to have him on his knees, worshiping you with his mouth.”

  She shook her head in denial, but he could see her nipples straining against the fabric of her bodice. Standing this near, he felt her heat rise, giving off more of her delightful fragrance. Slowly, carefully, he maneuvered her around until she faced the erotic statue while he stood behind her.

  “Look at her face.” Lowering his lips to the edge of her ear, he whispered, “Look at the pleasure she derives from submission.” Pressing his cock against the split of her bottom caused her to gasp, but she didn’t move away. “Even bound, she strains to meet his thrust.”

  Trailing his hands from her shoulders to the top of her dress, he slid his fingertips along the edge of the fabric that encircled her chest. Involuntarily she arched, pressing her breasts up to meet his touch and forcing her bottom into closer contact with his cock. Her firm softness through the layers of fabric was far more arousing than actual contact could ever be.

  Errion took a deep breath to steady himself. “Tell me the truth, Farjika, you’ve never thought about being bound before tonight?”

  “No.”

  Her answer came out swiftly, forcefully and almost defensively.

  “But now, it’s all you can think about.”

  Her lips parted in automatic denial, but she closed them ever so slowly, her head shaking back and forth, her delicately arched brows lowered in confusion.

  “Imagine yourself as that woman.”

  Her gaze went instinctively toward the statue.

  “Silky rope binds your arms behind your back, putting you at the mercy of the man before you.” He hesitated then decided he would have only one chance to plant the seed, so he forged ahead. He grabbed her wrists before she could react and pulled them behind her back. When she dropped her head, exhaling a long whimpering sigh of surrender, she said more than words ever could.

  Chapter Six

  Farjika considered struggling, but painful curiosity froze her to the spot. Errion’s hands were surprisingly soft against her wrists, his skin hot but not sweaty, as if he were perfectly at ease holding her prisoner. She, on the other hand, trembled, couldn’t catch her breath, and feared that her palms were soaking wet. Her mind whirled with possibilities, one of which was that Lorren was watching to see what kind of a woman she really was. For some perverse reason that thought only highlighted her awareness of her own body and made it impossible to move away.

  “I would never hurt you,” Errion whispered.

  Rather than reassuring her, his words actually increased her tension, because she already knew that he would never hurt her. She didn’t know how, exactly, she knew this, other than from a deep, instinctual level. Errion did not relish inflicting pain. What he savored was meting out torment until she gave him what he wanted. In a battle of wills, she wasn’t so sure she could prevail against such an experienced competitor. Errion was the opposite of Lorren in so many ways. Danger encircled Errion like a cologne, where a romantic heroism embraced Lorren. The two men were as different as night and day, making her wonder how she’d become ensnared by both of them so quickly. Effortlessly, she’d submitted to Lorren, and now she seemed to be doing the same for his…friend? Business partner? Exactly what was the nature of their relationship?

  “I think you should let me go.”

  Her voice didn’t even sound like hers. Wispy and fragile, she sounded like a terrified servant and not the future empress of Diola. Desperate to regain control, she straightened her shoulders but couldn’t summon the strength to lift her head.

  “You think?” Errion chuckled directly into her ear as he took her bound hands and cupped them against his cock. “Tell me more about what you think.”

  Her brain stopped functioning at the feel of his heat, his hardness and his absolute assurance that she wasn’t going to do anything unless he told her to.

  “I think you want to submit to me. I think you would do just about anything to feel my cock plunging into your tight cunt.”

  She shivered at the vulgar word, excited that he had no hesitation when he spoke. Calculated and commanding, his voice smoothed from her ear to her neck, then to her nipples. Once there, his voice fell straight and true to her throbbing clit. Errion didn’t need to bind her physically, not when his voice had such a mesmerizing effect.

  “I think that you are just like your mother.”

  Her eyes flew open wide, and she yanked out of his grasp.

  When she turned, he was standing with his head down, his gaze locked to her like a predator. Nostrils flared, lips parted slightly, he was ready to pounce upon her, and there was a part of her that wanted to surrender. With force, she fought down the urge to lift her face and expose her throat to him.

  “I’m nothing like my mother.”

  A knowing smile slid across his features, transforming him into something far worse than a hungry beast. An animal would kill her for food, but a hunter like Errion wouldn’t consume her flesh; no, he would stalk her until he possessed her soul. Errion wanted exactly what she’d been about to give him: submission.

  “What do you think Lorren would make of this?” Errion held up a fingertip-size something or other that was completely foreign to her. Her bafflement must have shown on her face. Narrowing one eye exactly as Lorren had done last night, Errion considered her confusion for only a moment. “This is a copy of Diola’s most profitable export.”

  Fighting down the automatic blush that longed to creep up her cheeks, Farjika lifted her head, and with just as much predatory malice, she smiled back at him. “I think Lorren would find the images as arousing as do so many other people in the universe.” Actually, the thought of Lorren watching her mother then touching her turned her stomach, but she’d be damned to the nothingness before she’d let Errion see her revulsion. “However, if you have already watched that crystal, then I’m afraid you will have nothing to show Lorren. My mother sells only one-watch images.”

  When his smug certainty melted away, she felt triumph, but he quickly regrouped and tried another path. “Your mother markets herself and your fathers, and you have no shame?” Grasping frantically now, he seemed determined to find something to hold over her head. Perhaps he feared that he could not enthrall her without both a psychological and literal bond. She would rather die than admit that he needed neither. Just the idea of what he wished to do to her excited her, attaching her to him in some inexplicable way.

  Shrugging delicately, she considered the man before her. His cock pressed against the loose fabric of his dark green trousers. He’d unbuttoned his cream shirt, exposing a length of tanned chest. Disheveled blond hair fell across his wicked gaze, softening his intensity, but not by much. Farjika doubted that anyone had ever considered Errion tame. Despite a few tricks that she’d carefully collected in her sparse seasons making a presence throughout the galaxy, she knew she was no match for a man of his ilk.

  “Why should I have disgrace over something I did not do?” Nodding to the statue of the bound woman, Farjika added, “Would you blame me for her actions too?”

  Three long strides brought Errion to a position standing before her. He wasn’t much taller than she was, not when she was wearing her heels, but he was tall enough to force her head up to maintain eye contact.

  “I blame you for coming unwanted into my life and upsetting everything I thought I knew.”

  Lifting her face to the angle of his, Farjika deliberately to
rmented him by keeping her eyes locked on his while she slowly lowered her face. Just like Lorren, he reacted to the visual with a sharp intake of breath and a tensing of his body. Now she understood that to Errion, what she did was a confusing mix of confrontation and submission.

  “I apologize, Master Ald’Areed.” She closed her eyes, then slowly blinked them open. “I never meant to cause you any stress by my presence.”

  He didn’t hesitate. Errion grasped her shoulders, hauled her against him and kissed her so thoroughly she lost whatever defiant posture she’d strived so desperately to maintain. Melting into his embrace, clutching his shoulders, she allowed him to wrap his arms around her and grasp her buttocks, forcing her body against his, forcing her to feel the threatening weight and heat of his cock. Binding her might intrigue him, but she wondered if he could actually refrain as long as such a scenario would take to enact.

  When he released her, his breath was rough and hot against her skin. His fingertips still dug into the flesh of her bottom, but he’d deliberately put some distance between them. She suspected he did this more for his benefit than hers.

  “I thought a dominant man had self-control.” Her gentle chastisement didn’t faze him.

  “When I have you bound, I will have control.” Truth filled the depths of his compelling green gaze, alternately frightening and persuading her.

  “Too bad you will never have me in such a subservient position.” Stepping back, she adjusted her dress. Calmly, she bent over and grasped her empty glass. When he moved toward her, she thrust the cup out to him. “I’d enjoy another.”

  Trapped by the false veneer of civility, Errion took her glass and turned to the mechanical butler patiently waiting. As he dispensed fresh drinks, she heard someone enter. When the newcomer called out a cheerful greeting, she knew Lorren was home.

  To her surprise, she felt an odd mix of relief and disappointment. Relief that Lorren was here and would protect her from Errion’s lust, but also, she had to admit, there was the faintest twinge of disappointment that her highly charged tryst with Errion was at an end. Farjika vowed that from this time forward, she would never be alone with Errion again.

  Errion seemed to read the declaration in her gaze. He smiled, telling her that just as she was determined to stay away, he would do everything in his power to get her alone again. If he did, she had no doubt that he would have her. Errion would bring her to her knees, bound and begging.

  Her gaze darted to the erotic statue. If ever she were alone with Errion again, he would do to her what that man did to that woman. Gods help her, but she feared that she would let him. With the frozen figures burned forever into her mind, she turned her gaze toward the entryway. There, in a decadently rich black suit trimmed with sable brown, stood her salvation.

  Flipping back a hank of dark hair, Lorren rushed to her side. “I’m so pleased you could come.” Chastely, he kissed her cheek, filling her lungs with the scent of his subtle cologne and workaday sweat. “I apologize for my delay.” He flashed a glance to Errion, who calmly met his gaze. “Unavoidable issues magically appeared just as I was leaving.” Accusation laced his tone. She had no doubt that Errion had kept Lorren busy just to get her alone.

  “How unfortunate.” Errion sounded anything but upset. He held out a glass to Lorren, who accepted the drink with a courteous nod that further conveyed his suspicion.

  “I trust Errion kept you entertained?” Lorren sipped his drink, his gaze darting between them.

  Farjika was certain she heard an edge to his voice, one that questioned Errion, not her. With a gracious smile, she nodded to Errion. “Your friend is a most delightful host. He has learned some of my language and several juicy tidbits about my home planet.” She strongly hoped that would take the power from the punch Errion wished to deliver with the revelation of what her mother had done to restore Diola financially. It wasn’t the first time she’d encountered such a superior attitude, but she swore she would never again suffer a bit of shame for something she hadn’t done.

  “Your mother is a most compelling woman.” Errion delivered the comment, then sipped his fresh drink. “Honestly, Lorren, you would be shocked by the liberties she allowed.”

  Farjika felt her entire body flush. Errion was not speaking of her mother, but of her, and what she’d let him get away with just moments ago. Refusing to rise to the obvious challenge, she turned to Lorren and lowered her voice. “I think Errion means to embarrass me.” Lorren cast a suspicious glare at Errion. Before Errion could say anything, she rushed on. “When my mother became empress of Diola, she was horrified to realize that our coffers were empty. Not only empty, but we owed large debts to several powerful worlds.”

  Lorren sipped his drink, his attention on her, but his golden gaze could not seem to stay on her face, not when she deliberately clutched her glass, holding it between her breasts, subtly drawing his attention there.

  “In my culture, an empress undergoes an elaborate bonding ceremony.” She lifted the glass to her lips, drawing his gaze to her face for a moment. “Marriage, I believe you call it here on Avalith.” Lowering the cup now to her waistline, she explained that many attendees captured the event and then watched the images for their own enjoyment. “When the technology became available, they started trading these stolen moments with others far from Diola. My mother decided to capitalize on the curiosity of outsiders. She began to sell the captured images directly.” Returning the cup to her mouth, she polished off her drink as she looked right into Lorren’s eyes. “She single-handedly returned Diola to a prosperous planet.”

  While she held Lorren’s attention, Errion’s gaze drilled into her so forcefully she almost winced. She was taking away everything he thought he could use to drive a wedge between her and Lorren. Curiously, she didn’t think he wanted to drive her to his side so much as he simply wanted her away from Lorren. Perhaps her initial reaction was true; these two powerful men shared much more than friendship. The way they looked at one another, spoke to one another, even the way they had behaved together in this room, considering each other like wary animals sharing the same cage, gave her pause.

  “And Errion thought I would be offended by this?” Lorren turned to Errion as he loosened the strip of fabric around his neck.

  “I thought you would find it interesting.”

  “I do,” Lorren acknowledged. His face seemed to say that what he found interesting was Errion muddling about in affairs that didn’t concern him. The twinkle in his heated gaze said he was curious about the nature of the product.

  Farjika’s heart sank. He would want to see the images now, and she would never be able to look at him the same if he did.

  “I am fascinated by your mother’s boldness.” Lorren tossed the slim black strip on the couch, unbuttoned his shirt two buttons and then turned to her, offering out his arm. “I do believe our meal is ready.”

  Gratefully, she looped her arm with his, marveling at how similar he was in height and strength to Errion. But for their hair and eyes, and the subtle differences in their faces, the two men were amazingly similar. Had she not known better, she would have thought them twins.

  Lorren ushered her into a lovely dining room filled with glossy dark furniture, crystal chandeliers, and tall windows now dark with nightfall. An enormous table with high-backed chairs dominated the center of the room. One end was set with three place settings. Lorren deposited her in the chair to his right, while he took the head of the table and Errion took the seat to his left.

  She tried not to fidget with the arrangement. Standard seating on Diola would have had her centered on the longest side of the table with one man on her right and one on her left. That way, she could maintain separate but equal conversations. This way, she was forced to speak with both men simultaneously, a situation guaranteed to be troublesome. Especially if the mischievous look in Errion’s gaze was any indication. Somehow, between the parlor and here, he’d managed to undo more buttons. His cream shirt hung open, exposing a go
od portion of his chest and his muscular abdomen. As he settled himself in the seat across from her, he did so slowly, working his muscles, tensing them to show them off. She hated herself for not being able to look away. Thankfully, Lorren didn’t notice her reaction because he was watching Errion’s display as well.

  “It’s an informal dinner, but still, it would be pleasant if you managed to keep your shirt on.” Lorren removed his jacket, passing it to a maid. His black shirt clung to his chest and somehow drew her attention more fully because she could see he was just as muscular, but having the fabric between her scrutiny and his actual flesh was far more enticing. And that’s when she grasped another difference between them; Errion was brash and bold, putting everything on display, whereas Lorren was subtle and discreet, keeping everything concealed.

  “It is on,” Errion immediately defended, looking right at her. “I’m not showing any more skin than our lovely guest, am I?”

  The question served a dual purpose; it drew attention away from him, allowing him to stay half clothed, and both men had an opportunity to admire the low-cut nature of her crimson dress. Lorren’s eyes turned molten as they slipped over the bodice that gracefully held up her breasts. His attention caused her nipples to harden, which elicited twin sighs of pleasure. When she looked at Errion, his eyes were blazing intently as he studied not her but Lorren.

  All of them were distracted by the delivery of the first course. For a time, eating took up the space of conversation. What little they did say was centered around the food; her questions as to what the delicacies were and where they were from, the men’s answers with anecdotes about the first time they had sampled many of the treats heaped upon her plate. The excess was as familiar to her as home. On Diola, every gathering was an excuse for the palace overseer to show off the skill of his cooks, so intricate food and long-fermented drinks covered the serving tables. Farjika had learned to sample small bites and tiny sips so she could taste everything.