Dark Empress: The Onic Empire, Book 5

by Anitra Lynn McLeod

  Innocence surrounded her like an exotic perfume, one he would breathe so deeply he would destroy the essence. Sadly, that was what happened to purity; experience always corrupted it. Within he struggled still, wanting to ruin her thus claiming her, branding himself forever as her first. Alternately, he wanted to leave her wholesomeness intact, preserving her as one of the last unsoiled things that existed in his world.

  Lorren knew he could not do both.

  He made his decision when he heard the faint sound of a body sinking into one of the seats. Despite the plush carpet and velvet-covered chairs, Lorren still heard that sly sound, and he knew Errion had come. Peering out into the dark, he tried to pinpoint his position, but he really didn’t need to work hard. Errion would have placed himself in the best position possible for viewing what would come. Dead center from the sides and the stage, Errion would pick the finest seat in the house. Lorren could just picture him settled into his chair, his long legs stretched out before him, only a silky robe around his lean body. Not bothering with a belt, the robe would lie open, exposing his already hard cock.

  Lorren would have felt manipulated, but how could he blame Errion for what his own heart desired? And Farjika. None of this would be happening but for her own secret longings, longings that Errion had masterfully exposed. Lorren wondered if Errion cared what could happen to Farjika if he lost control, not that he would let himself get anywhere near the dark creature in the corner, but did Errion grasp the true nature of Lorren’s darkness? Or did Errion, like Farjika herself, have a fantasy notion of what possessed him?

  Lorren looked out into the seats, his gaze falling to where he knew Errion sat. For a long moment, he just looked at him, letting his nerves settle. Tiny motes of dust danced in the air as the servants had cleaned in here today. He knew because he could smell the polish they used to keep the metal and wood trim gleaming. The wooden stage below his feet was scuffed with the marks of a thousand actors’ shoes, props and other sundry items used to bring productions to life. Tonight, with minimal effects, Lorren would present a show for an audience of one.

  Coming up behind Farjika, Lorren freed her long hair from the complicated series of twists that kept it bound. He did so leisurely, taking the time to feel the heaviness of her perfectly straight strands and to breathe fully the sweet scent of the soap she’d used. Carefully he combed her hair around her shoulders with his fingers, flicking some over the front to tickle her still-hard nipple.

  Perfect in her make-believe submission, Farjika stood relaxed, letting him do as he wished. If she knew Errion watched, she would likely not be so calm, so Lorren hoped he would remain silent. A tinge of guilt caused his hand to hesitate against her shoulder. He should ask her if she were willing to let Errion watch. Doing so without her knowledge violated the trust she placed in him.

  “Look out at the seats, Farjika,” he said, nuzzling her ear. “Picture them filled with a hundred men.”

  Her eyes narrowed as she peered out at the darkened seating. An increase in the pace of her breathing caused her breasts to rise and fall more rapidly, making them almost tremble, and like him, it wasn’t fear, but longing and excitement. The idea of being on display aroused her. Tapping into her fantasy, Lorren had a much better idea of how to conduct her first session.

  “All of them are dressed as gentlemen should be with buttoned up shirts, tailored trousers and jackets, and brightly shined shoes. All of them are looking right at you.” Lorren peeled down the fabric over her other breast, rubbing his thumb across her nipple as he did, making it as hard as the other was.

  Farjika lifted her chest, her eyes going soft and dreamy, as if she could see what he said.

  “All those men looking at you, longing for you.” Cupping her breasts as if he offered them out to the men, Lorren lowered his voice, knowing that Errion would have no trouble hearing him, as the theater was designed to carry even the slightest sound from the stage to the audience. “I can hear them fidgeting in their seats as they look upon you.” He paused, giving her time to imagine what he said. “They’re not hard yet, but their cocks begin to stir at the sight of your magnificent breasts, wantonly exposed over the top of your dress.”

  Her whimper hardened him anew, making his hands tighten around her breasts.

  “I can see some of the men licking their lips as they think of how they would torment your nipples.” Rolling them slowly between forefinger and thumb, Lorren lulled her into a peaceful surrender before he harshly clamped his digits together, pinching her nipples firmly and quickly, releasing them before she’d finished uttering a shocked cry.

  Confused by the abrupt change from tenderness to torment and back again, Farjika shook her head, her eyes blinking at a furious pace.

  “I thought you wanted me to be in control of you?” Lorren asked, tugging her russet brown nipples softly with his fingertips, as if plucking the strings of a delicate instrument.

  “I…do.”

  Chuckling at her hesitation, Lorren reached below her breasts and grasped the fragile fabric of her dress. While he spoke, he searched for the seam. “If I wanted to invite all those men up to touch and taste your breasts, you would allow that?” He found what he sought, holding his hands still, centered below her quivering breasts.

  “A hundred men?”

  “A hundred hot hungry men eager to touch and suckle at your breasts.” Murmuring softly, he placed his mouth right to her ear. “If I wanted to watch them torment you, and I was in control of you, then you couldn’t say no.”

  Farjika suddenly realized that this game had serious implications. Before she could say or do anything, Lorren braced himself against her back. With tremendous power and finesse, he wrenched her dress apart. The renting fabric screamed into the silence of the theater.

  “My dress!” Farjika shrieked. All thoughts of playing the submissive vanished.

  “Silence.” Unlike her, Lorren kept his voice dangerously low. Turning her head by gripping her chin, forcing her to look at him, he said, “You won’t need clothes for what I have planned for you.”

  Dismay and desire battled in her eyes.

  “Say it,” he dared. “Say the word to make me stop.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “You’re testing my resolve.”

  All he offered her was one uplifted brow of speculation.

  Apparently confused that to be submissive she had to show defiance, Farjika slowly turned her head until she faced the seats again.

  Pleased, Lorren let her ruined dress fall. Both brows shot up his forehead. She wore nothing below her dress. The panties he thought he’d felt earlier were all in his mind. Lorren swore he heard a sharp intake of breath that didn’t come from him or Farjika. Ah, Errion, he thought. He must be as delightfully shocked as Lorren had been that Farjika kept her sweet sex shaved. Right now Lorren would give anything to be both the man behind her and the man in the audience.

  “Kick the dress away and stand with your legs slightly parted.” She obeyed. She stood center stage wearing only a pair of gracefully high crimson shoes. Suddenly feeling far too hot, Lorren removed his shirt, tossing the garment next to Farjika’s discarded dress so that she could see it.

  Lorren again embraced her from behind, letting her feel the heat of his bare skin, the rough texture of his hairy chest and the hard tips of his nipples. This time, he wedged his still-covered cock into the split of her bottom, marveling at the way her body molded to his. To her credit, she held still, determined to let him do or say whatever he wished.

  “Those hundred men are now fully hard, their cocks pressing against their civilized trousers with vulgar need at the sight of your bare sex.” Reaching around, Lorren teased his hand from her belly button down to her mound. “Their eyes rivet on my middle finger, watching as I slide it down, parting your folds.” Slick wetness coated his hand and filled the air with her musky need. “I can hear them parting their pants, groaning with lust as they take their cocks in hand.” Up and down, bending his finger along the natur
al curve of her body, he rubbed along her sex, brushing past her clit so delicately she scarce had a chance to react. “What do you think those men want to do to you?”

  “They want to fuck me,” she said, her voice strong, filling the space with conviction.

  Lorren felt an inordinate flush of pride that she tried so diligently to show him that she was fearless despite the way her body trembled ever so slightly.

  “Could you take a hundred men?”

  This time she hesitated but only by the slightest fraction. “If that’s what you wanted.” She turned her head, meeting his gaze over her shoulder. “If you honestly want one hundred men to fuck me when you have yet to do so yourself, I will willingly spread my legs for them.”

  Admiring her spirit, Lorren kissed her hungrily. As soon as she relaxed into his embrace, he pinched her clit between his fingers. He swallowed her startled yelp and wrapped his arm around her waist to hold her up as she wobbled on her heels.

  Softly enough so that Errion could not hear, Lorren asked, “Do you want me to fuck you?” Probing intently into her gaze, he was determined to give her what she needed, not what he wanted. “No games, Farjika. I need to know if you want your first time like this or—”

  She cut him off by turning into his embrace and plastering her body to his. Her breasts pressed against his chest, tormented nipples cold against his hot flesh. Shimmying her hips against his, she struggled with his trousers, her fingers fumbling against the complicated closure.

  Breathless with longing, he ordered, “Get on your knees.”

  For timeless moment, he thought she would refuse. Clasping his hands for balance, Farjika lowered herself to her knees before him, her face tilted back so that she could look up at him. The spotlight now shone into his eyes, blinding him until he looked down and caught her gaze. She licked her lips with a delightful combination of trepidation and longing.

  “Have you ever sucked a man’s cock?”

  She shook her head, spilling her hair over her back, making the light sparkle like stars across the glistening black strands.

  Working his fingers over the waistband and down the buttons and clasps of his dress trousers, Lorren slowly freed his cock, loving the way she looked at him with anticipation lighting the darkness of her gaze. Long, thick and harder than he ever thought possible, his prick loomed above her. Cupping his fist around the base, he stroked himself while she watched. Her eyes wide, her lips parted, her expression was wanton and timid all at once. Frustrated by the binding clothing, Lorren yanked his pants off and kicked them away.

  Farjika stroked her hands up his legs, her fingers sliding through his hair, the edges of her nails digging into his flesh just enough to awaken him to her longing. Meeting her halfway, Lorren lowered his prick to her mouth, rubbing his tip over her plush lips, swallowing back a growl as she lapped hungrily. Barely had she wrapped him in her lovely lips before he yanked back. Startled, she shot him a confused glance.

  “It’s not you, it’s me.” Falling to his knees, he pulled her to him, kissing her mouth, tasting the barest bit of himself on her lips and reveling in their combined essence. “I can’t play this game anymore.” Maneuvering her above him, Lorren reclined on the cold wood of the stage as he placed Farjika over his supine body. Willingly, she straddled his hips, placing her slick sex barely above his throbbing cock. Plunging his hand between their bodies, he centered his prick to her core, his eyes meeting hers. “Slide down onto me. Slowly,” he cautioned. “I need you to give yourself to me.” Cupping her chin, he traced her mouth with his thumb. “I can’t take from you. You must give yourself to me.”

  Farjika lifted up and, for a heartbreaking moment, he thought she would leave him on the stage, hard and unsatisfied, but she leaned back to remove her shoes. Once she cast them aside, she leaned over him and whispered, “No games, not this time.” Tentatively, she lowered herself, clasping her hand to his that held his prick up and ready. Together they brought him to her. Once the tip of him touched her trembling core, she sighed and went lower, gasping as his head slid effortlessly inside.

  Lorren thanked the Harvester for easing his way but leaving her so stunningly sensitive to his penetration. As his cock filled her, Farjika held his gaze. Burning bright, the spotlight behind her lit her hair in a nimbus glow. All he could see was her face, her beautiful face, her eyes heavy lidded with desire as he eased within the snug slick heat of her sex.

  Trembling, Farjika slid down until she nestled against him, her clit mashed against his pubic bone. Lifting his hand to the back of her head, Lorren pulled her down as he lifted up. As his cock claimed her, so did his tongue. Diving deep into her mouth, he tasted all of her.

  Sweet and honest, she had come to him, taking him within the promise of her body. No games, no harshness, only pure longing and true desire. So exquisitely sensitive from their display on the stage, they were both primed. Lorren wanted to hold back, to last longer, but when Farjika rocked her hips, rubbing her clit against him tightly until she climaxed, she forced his. Rising up as he pulled her down, locking their mouths like their bodies, Lorren released his pleasure deep within her.

  Perfection.

  Lorren had never felt so connected to anyone. Marveling at his own feelings, he let her go so she could lift up just enough to peer down into his face. Blinking slowly, Farjika smiled, her lips parting as if to speak. Her look of satisfaction turned to horror when she heard applause.

  Chapter Eight

  Errion could have quietly slunk away, but why should he? Farjika had reveled in the fantasy of being on display, so let her find out what it was like to actually be the object of a man’s lust.

  And lust was exactly what he felt.

  When Errion entered the theater, he wasn’t sure what he was expecting Lorren to do, not after he’d steadfastly refused to ever engage in another domination encounter. One mistake and he’d hung up his whip, both metaphorically and literally. The woman wasn’t even all that hurt, but Lorren had blanched at the sight of her blood, his eyes so wide they almost fell out of his face. Two bitty scratches loomed large to Lorren’s overactive senses. To this day, that woman still hounded Errion, wanting another session with the two of them, but Lorren flatly refused. Truly, Lorren had turned nothing into a major psychological obstacle.

  That he’d even gone this far with Farjika was astounding in and of itself, and Errion had thoroughly enjoyed the show. He thought he’d given himself away when he inadvertently gasped at the revelation of Farjika’s hairless mound. Her long-limbed body seemed even taller without dark curls to break up the visual line she made. Farjika was a luscious column of caramel flesh standing in a wash of soft pink light. Wearing only heels was another charming twist that Lorren had given him. He knew how much Errion appreciated slender legs capped off by exquisite shoes. Farjika was so perfect in so many ways. Watching Lorren slide his finger between the slick edges of her bare cunt had pushed Errion over the edge. He’d barely wrapped his hand about his prick before he was spurting all over his belly. Furious that he’d been unable to control himself, Errion wiped the cream away with his robe, then watched as Lorren pulled back from the game. Unable to make her suck his cock, he’d fallen to his knees and let her set the pace of his claiming.

  All of that beautiful potential submission wasted!

  So perhaps Errion had drawn attention to himself from anger. When Errion had grasped her wrists in the parlor, her instant surrender had convinced him that she could bring Lorren back to the dominating creature he was destined to be. But no. Lorren hadn’t been able to humble the arrogant future empress nor pluck her innocence in a mighty thrust. If Lorren were so foolish as to fall in love with the girl, there would be nothing left for Errion. He would never be able to cover her in twists of crimson rope, tormenting her into a frenzy of need. Oh the games he could play with the canvas of her body! Amazing breasts, a waist so slender he could almost grasp it with the span of his hands, and hips that were wide and strong enough to take a brutal p
ounding from the hips of several men in a row. No, if Lorren fell in love, Errion would never get to play his games. And that’s when he climbed to his feet and clapped. Not fast, but slowly, mockingly, as if he more criticized their display than commended it. Bastard that he was, he didn’t even give them a moment to enjoy their cozy afterglow.

  Errion could only imagine the face Farjika made as she leaned over Lorren. Shock, dismay, horror. However, when she looked over her shoulder into the darkened seats, her face was pure fury. If she had a weapon, Errion had no doubt it would be flying in his direction about now.

  “Quite a show, my lovely one.” Errion left his robe undone, his spent cock clearly on display as he approached the stage. Once he was within range of the dim house lights, he nodded to his drained member. “After my rousing climax, I would happily attend a repeat performance.”

  Jaw gritted tightly, Farjika slung her leg off Lorren, who grabbed for her, trying desperately to hold her close, but her anger made her strong, and she easily wrenched herself out of his grasp.

  “You knew he was there,” she accused. Her gaze sparked with insurmountable hurt, and Errion knew he’d skillfully delivered a fatal blow to their relationship. After this, Farjika would never trust Lorren again. Love could not grow without a solid base of trust.

  Lorren opened his mouth to deny the accusation, but he must have realized there was no point. He hung his head and released a huge sigh.

  “Of course he knew I was there.” Errion deliberately put a chuckle in his voice. “Why else do you think he brought you to a stage?”

  His words clearly wounded her even deeper as she literally winced.

  “Stop it.” Lorren rose to his feet and offered his hand out to Farjika, who rejected his help and stood on her own. “I didn’t invite him, but yes, I knew he was there.”