Dark Empress: The Onic Empire, Book 5

by Anitra Lynn McLeod

  “And what kind of woman am I?” she asked breathlessly, her knees threatening to give way as waves of pleasure washed up her body.

  “A woman who enjoys rough sex. A woman who longs to have a powerful man dominate her.” Forcing her free hand around his cock, he encouraged her to stroke him with the same intensity as he rubbed her. He felt huge and hot through the fabric, and she wanted to touch him directly, but instead, she used the slick fabric to give him a hard and fast stroke. “And despite all the objections you’ve told yourself over the years, you are a woman who needs more than one man to satisfy her dark hunger.”

  The shameful truth compelled her into orgasm, her body spasming in waves as she clutched his cock. Errion leaned into her, his dirty words hissed into her ear as he forced her to have another orgasm. His climax built slowly, and despite her fury with him, his amazing self-control was terrifyingly impressive. Refusing to be a total submissive, Farjika nudged his head to the side with hers, placed her mouth to his ear and poured a stream of perversity into his mind until he came with a growl. His cock twitched in her palm, and he rested his head against her shoulder, but only for a moment.

  Pulling back, he grasped her chin and kissed her, hard, his tongue plunging into her mouth, fucking her as he’d sworn to do with his cock. Finally, the raging lust abated, and once again, they were wary antagonists standing there, facing one another.

  Adjusting his robe, Errion was now all business. “You’ll stay here until I tell you to go. You’ll do whatever Lorren and I say.” He measured her meaningfully, his gaze an almost physical touch on her sensitized body. “I need him to think you’re willing. Rebel all you want in the borders of your mind, but to Lorren, you will be the perfect little submissive. If you do these things, I will destroy the images of you on that stage.”

  “For how long?” As soon as the question left her mouth, she realized he had her. Against her expressed desire to the contrary, here she was negotiating with him. How was this man able to tap right into the deepest place in her psyche and make her do what he wanted?

  “You’ll stay for as long as I wish.” Unlike her, when he used an imperious tone, his tenor was utterly convincing. Semen-stained robe and all, Errion still managed a starkly majestic posture.

  She shook her head. “I can’t stay forever. There are other worlds I must travel to.” Her next mission was probably awaiting her at her skip now. “Also, if I fail to communicate with my people, suspicions will be aroused.” She thought of Gabriyel. If he had any inkling that Errion even attempted to detain her, he would not hesitate; he would find a way into the manor, sword drawn, and kill anyone in his path. “There’s also the issue of my guards.”

  Annoyance twisted Errion’s face. Obviously, he didn’t want to hear anything that would interfere with his plans. Somehow, he was more handsome when he was angry. Fury hardened the angles of his cheeks and chin, giving him a surprising vibrancy. Even the color of his eyes deepened as he narrowed them speculatively.

  “I need time to bring Lorren around.” Errion looked directly into her eyes. “Twenty spins.”

  Farjika calculated his time into her time. She thought the equivalent would be about a quarter cycle. “Ten.”

  He shook his head adamantly. “Twenty.”

  She thought of running. Let him show the images of her—she could always say she was forced. But her reputation would still be ruined. She’d have no choice but to return to Diola. There, none would care, but she’d know. And she wanted to continue traveling from world to world. Farjika delighted in learning new ways, languages and customs. She hadn’t had one bad experience until she’d landed on Avalith.

  “Fine. Twenty.”

  Nodding curtly, he moved on to the next point. “I’ll allow one message to your people telling them that you decided to stay here of your own accord.” A sly grin lifted one edge of his lip. “You said you wanted to stay to investigate our culture.”

  Trapped by her own words, Farjika agreed.

  “As for your guards, you will send them back to your skip. Our manor is fully guarded, and they are unnecessary.”

  Farjika thought that over.

  “You are in charge of them, are you not?” Errion’s question was a subtle dig that she did not control her own people.

  “They are under my command, but if they think I’m being coerced, they will act independently of my orders.” The barest suspicion would cause Gabriyel to act first and ask questions later.

  “Then you’d better be convincing.” Errion leaned close and nipped her lips. “Now, for tonight, you’ll dismiss your guards and then go to Lorren, apologize and spend the night in his bed.”

  Was there the barest bit of disappointment in his face? Errion claimed he did all of this for Lorren, but Farjika suspected there was much more to Errion’s motives.

  Casting her gaze down at her dress, she said, “I can hardly be convincing in a ruined dress.” Gabriyel’s eyes would go wide in shock, then narrow in suspicion. She honestly doubted that even if she told him to go, he would. Stubborn beyond even the most dedicated acolyte, the captain of her guard could not be moved if he had any suspicion there was something wrong.

  A glow of satisfaction lit Errion’s face when he considered her ripped gown. “Now that was like the old Lorren. Aggressive and determined. The look on your face was priceless.” He frowned. “But then you ruined it by screeching.”

  “I didn’t realize that what he had in mind would leave me clothed in rags.” Had she known, she never would have worn such an expensive, and sadly irreplaceable, dress.

  Errion reached out one hand and toyed with the ripped edges clutched in her fist. “Had I my way, you would never wear anything at all.” He met her gaze. “Well, perhaps the shoes.”

  That’s when she realized if she went to Gabriyel barefoot, clutching the remains of her dress, it wouldn’t matter what she said. He’d yank her into the safety of his arms and run as fast as his feet could carry him. Somehow, she found that image unbearably sweet and heroic. However, by his attempt to protect her, he’d actually do irreparable damage to her.

  “I can see the wheels turning in your mind, Farjika.” Errion cupped her chin. “Don’t make me show you just what kind of a full-blown bastard I can be.”

  “What do you mean by that?” She’d agreed to stay, she was giving him what he wanted, and still he had an obsessive need to bully her. Or was he simply determined to get his own way? She wasn’t entirely sure. Worse, there was something appealing about his potential brutality, almost the way she found Gabriyel’s determination as frustrating as it was tantalizing. Men who knew what they wanted and went after their desires without stopping to worry about the consequences appealed to her, for she was the same way. She didn’t like to hear no, and clearly, neither did Errion.

  “If you think your guards are going to save you, you’re wrong. Get rid of them peacefully, or I’ll make them disappear in a way that neither you nor they will like.”

  Her stomach clenched. “You wouldn’t hurt them.” She couldn’t bear to phrase it as a question.

  “Hurt is such a curious word.” He lowered his long, tanned fingers to her nipple, brushing it slowly through the fabric until it hardened. “I would round them up and imprison them in the dungeon.”

  Farjika searched her mind for the meaning of that word but found no Diolan equivalent.

  “A dungeon is a place to hold and torture enemies.” Errion worked at the tight fabric until he’d loosened it just enough to allow him to encircle her nipple with forefinger and thumb. He twisted sharply, not hurting her so much as assuring her undivided attention. “So, when you speak to your guards, I suggest you be extremely convincing.”

  Chapter Ten

  Gabriyel stood at the front door of the manor, his restless eyes sweeping back and forth across the grounds. He’d never seen so much land devoted to a single dwelling, land that was not used for crops or grains but decorative plants. Rows of neatly trimmed hedges delineated the y
ard into distinct areas. There were places with circular walkways, flowerbeds, and even manmade ponds with water-gushing fountains. Earlier, a collection of obnoxious winged animals had filled the closest pond, their squawks piercing the air as they battled over something he could not see. As night fell, they departed, and the grounds became eerily quiet.

  During his studies of Avalith, he noted the planet had two moons, which he found fascinating, as Diola had only one, but Diola had twin suns and Avalith had only one. However, the night sky was dark, as neither moon was up at the moment. Still, small torches were strategically placed around the gardens, spilling ample light across the features. Anyone who came close would be obvious. Gabriyel wanted to investigate the torches because they used something called electricity, which was very different from the crystals used on Diola. But his duty was to protect the future empress.

  Farjika’s father, Drahka, had chosen him from over a thousand palace guards. Having been entrusted with his daughter was an honor and a mighty burden. If he failed, he would be put to the stone. Although Gabriyel thought that if he failed, the threat of that punishment would cease to matter, because he’d already be dead. He would give his life to protect Farjika.

  Luckily, she was not what he expected. Rather than being a spoiled child, she was a remarkably thoughtful and intelligent young woman determined to show the universe the very best of Diola. Everywhere she went she created an impression, always good, of the beauty and intelligence of Diolans. Gabriyel could not have been prouder of her. Her dependability made protecting her quite simple. She went to large events that already had thorough security, and she never tried to sneak away or do something stupid.

  That was, until now.

  Adjusting his cirvant, Gabriyel drew in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. Using the deliberate breathing of kintana to center himself, he was able to focus his attention back on the grounds and away from his fury that Farjika had escaped his notice to have a tryst with a stranger in some backroom. He could not imagine what had possessed her to do something so risky when she’d always been such a steadfast young woman. What had shocked him even more was his reaction to finding her with another man. He’d pounded on the door, ready to kick it in and beat the life out of the man she’d snuck off with. Instead, she’d screamed at him that if he dared to enter, she would have him put to the stone. Shamefaced, he’d guarded the door, each lustful moan she made digging into him, infuriating him, making him crazed with longings he’d determinedly held back for all the time he’d traveled with her as the captain of her guards.

  Again tonight, he stood watch while she indulged her lusts with that shaggy-haired barsita. What could that boy show her? Gabriyel was several seasons his senior and undoubtedly knew more about pleasing a woman than Lorren D’Buren ever would. Sadly, Gabriyel knew he could never have Farjika. She was so far out of his reach she might as well be on an entirely different planet. Still, if he kept her from harm during her mission, when he returned to Diola he would no longer be a palace guard, he would become a tertiary member of the elite. It was a gracious gift, as most palace guards never bonded as there simply weren’t enough women of their stature to go around. But he would be elevated in status, thus able to court one of the daughters of an elite House. Not that he’d found many of them interesting, but it was better than a lifetime of sleeping alone and only finding release when the time for tribute came.

  Being ship bound and far from home, Farjika’s mother, Bithia, had worried about the guards having no proper venue to release their sexual tensions. To that end, she captured an image of herself upon her throne, and once a cycle, all of them were allowed privacy with her image. Alone, they would fall to their knees, expose their aching cocks and stroke themselves to release. Giving tribute was the only acceptable way for a palace guard to find satisfaction.

  Like all the others, Gabriyel looked forward to tribute, but rather than gazing upon the image of Bithia, he imagined Farjika sitting before him, her beautiful breasts bare, her regal face softened by lust as she eagerly watched him stroke his cock. Often, the other guards had complained that he took far too long, so rather than going first, as was his right as the highest ranking guard, he’d gone last so he could spend as much time as he wanted with the wicked fantasies in his mind.

  Something flew overhead making a strange cooing noise, startling him. Gabriyel mentally shook himself. He was supposed to be standing guard. If he were paying attention, a silly bird wouldn’t have surprised him. He redoubled his efforts to keep his mind off his inner turmoil and focus instead on protecting the future empress. No matter that she was parting her luscious thighs for a worthless boy who had no idea how lucky he was. No matter that said boy would probably climax well before he’d pleasured Farjika, and she would walk away unsatisfied and confused. Once he’d gotten what he wanted from her, he would probably send her on her way. Damn him to the vast nothingness, but Gabriyel hoped Farjika didn’t fancy herself in love with the boy. That would break her heart when they had to go. And eventually, they would have to leave Avalith.

  Usually Gabriyel didn’t care where they went or how long they stayed, but now, he couldn’t wait to depart Avalith. Farjika hadn’t been herself since the party at the D’Buren manor. Watching her dress tonight had been almost more than Gabriyel could take. Her skip wasn’t very big. Basically it held a large room for her and a smaller barracks for him and the other guards. Farjika had a tendency to leave her door open, as she felt a little claustrophobic when it was closed and most of the men were stationed outside around the ship. Gabriyel had approached her doorway to confirm the details for the evening when he’d spied her settling her breasts into the cups of the dress. Dark nipples were softly peaked as she carefully centered them within the clinging crimson fabric. He’d spun away before she’d noticed him, but the image of her spectacular bare breasts would never leave his mind for as long as he lived. The time to give tribute was close, and he doubted he’d last for more than a few strokes this time, not when he had an actual vision of her breasts to contemplate rather than what he’d only imagined.

  Just thinking of her caused him to harden, lifting up the edge of his loincloth. Hastily he adjusted himself, furious that he couldn’t seem to stop his disobedient thoughts. Normally he wouldn’t have this much of a problem, but he knew what she was doing in there, and that was what caused such a breach of discipline. He strongly hoped the rest of his men did not have such naughty thoughts destroying their attention. If anything happened to her, he would never forgive himself.

  Behind him, he heard the doorknob click. He spun, hand on his sword. Farjika popped her head out of the doorway. Her hair was loose and spilled over one shoulder. Her face was slightly flushed, as if she’d been running, but he knew what she’d been doing to get that look. It took all his formidable self-control not to grab her, toss her over his shoulder and steal her away. Rather than her stunning crimson dress, she wore a brown robe. He tried not to snarl. Brown was the color of slaves. His loincloth was brown because he was a slave to the empire. However, such a low color should never touch Farjika’s skin.

  “Stop making that face, Gabriyel.” She spoke softly in Diolan. “I borrowed his robe, and they don’t view colors the same way here.”

  Giving her a curt nod, he tried to look past her, into the manor, but she held the door firmly in her grip. All he could see was Farjika and a thin vertical strip of the room behind her.

  “I’ll be staying here rather than at my skip.”

  He stood straight even though inside he slumped, defeated. She was better than this, so much better than a limited tryst that would never please her, not fully. He’d heard her soft cries in the night, heard her calling out for what she most desperately wanted, and that boy wasn’t what she hungered for. It would take a man to fulfill her needs.

  “I will stand guard through the night.” He turned away before she could read anything else in his face with her far too perceptive eyes.

  Her hand on his sho
ulder caused a shiver that he suppressed as he turned back to her.

  “No, Gabriyel. There is no need for you to stay up all night watching over a manor that is fully guarded.”

  Frowning, he cast his gaze about the grounds. “I do not see any guards.”

  “Camera eyes and a mass of robots,” she explained. Despite his annoyance, he was fascinated and impressed. He wanted to stay and explore these amazing inventions. “Please do as I say. Gather your men and return to the skip.”

  “No.” The word tumbled out before he could stop it. Defying the future empress was a guaranteed way to get himself tossed out an airlock into deep space on their next mission, but honor demanded he try to make her see reason.

  “I’m not asking you, I’m telling you.” Boldly, she tilted her face up.

  “With all due respect, it is my job to see to your safety.” He bowed until his face was lower than hers was before he rose back up. “I swore to your father that I would protect you. I can hardly do that if I’m back at the skip.” Sounded good to him, but the real reason was that he wasn’t about to leave her. If nothing else, the thought of him standing on the doorstep might put a crimp in the boy’s plans.

  Her sleek brows drew together. To an outsider, she would appear angry, but Gabriyel recognized fear.

  “You have served me well these many seasons, and I have never asked you to do anything that would put my life in peril.”

  Reluctantly he nodded agreement as he continued to delve deeper into the expression on her face. They had been through a lot together and not once had he seen her frightened. She did her best to hide it, but the truth was there. Something, or someone, terrified her.

  “I have my reasons for sending you away. Please show me respect by doing as I say.”

  Now he was certain panic was at the heart of her unusual request. Something inside him broke that anyone, let alone a scrawny boy, could frighten such a strong woman. However, if he acted rashly, say by kicking down the door and demanding answers, he could put her life in greater jeopardy. Convinced something was gravely wrong, Gabriyel agreed to gather his men and go. He said so loudly enough that anyone listening could hear him acquiesce.