Farjika’s moans deepened, and occasionally she twitched as the stimulation became too much.
“How would you like the feel of my cock in your cunt and his prick in your mouth?”
Lowering her head, she hissed “Yes” over and over until the word became a chant in time with his thrusts. Sensing she was on the verge of a spectacular climax, Lorren lifted up until he had her on her knees, him behind her, his hips slamming into her bottom as he rubbed her clit hard and fast. Her passage clutched his shaft when she climaxed. Her head went back when she screamed. Lorren looked straight ahead and caught sight of Errion right as he gushed into the air, causing Lorren to spill within Farjika.
Chapter Twelve
After a moment to regain normal breathing, Errion smiled at Lorren’s shocked face. “Now that is the way to start the day: with a rousing climax for one and all.” He left his robe open as he sat upon Lorren’s dressing chair. Last night’s clothing was neatly folded over the back, just as Lorren insisted upon. Errion wondered how much time the butlers spent fussing over his wardrobe.
Farjika kept her head down, but he saw a twist of a grin. She seemed pleased to have gotten Lorren back. Surely, Lorren didn’t know Errion was actually watching until he looked up at the very last moment. Oh, she was turning out to be a delightful player! How could he ever have thought of trying to rid their lives of her? Twenty days would never be enough. As Errion sat regaining his ability to move, he considered ways to keep her here permanently. Holding the recording over her head wouldn’t work for a lifetime. Already he was slightly ashamed of himself. Slightly. A man did what he had to do in order to get what he needed. And both he and Lorren needed Farjika.
“When did you come in here?” Lorren glanced at his closed door, then pulled Farjika protectively into his lap as he sat back. Draping the bedclothes around them seemed silly after all Errion had seen, especially the wanton look in her eyes as she’d offered out her breasts to him. Then, when Lorren suggested he fuck her while she sucked Errion’s prick…not crossing the floor and guiding her lips to his eager cock had been one of the greatest challenges he’d faced in a very long time. Farjika had a visually stunning mouth, and to see it wrapped around his prick would probably cause him to climax long before she got him very deep. Errion decided he would have to practice so as not to embarrass himself when the time came.
“I entered much earlier, long before either of you woke.”
Lorren’s eyes narrowed. “And you just sat there watching us sleep? Pretty damn creepy, Errion.”
Errion shrugged. “Don’t get mad at me.” He chucked his chin at Farjika. “She’s the one who knew I was here and didn’t say anything.”
“I didn’t know he was here at first. He was in the shadows.”
“Oh, don’t make excuses, my lovely one.”
Farjika cringed at the term, and the look in Lorren’s eyes confirmed he now understood why she didn’t want him calling her “my love”. That endearment was a little too close to the mocking term he used to address her. Standing, Errion stretched. “Now that each of you has tricked the other, perhaps next time we play this game we can all be aware of each other.”
“We’re not playing any more games.” Lorren hugged Farjika hard to his chest. “Get out, Errion. And close the door behind you.”
“It was Farjika’s idea.” It wasn’t, but Errion wasn’t about to have Lorren cut him out of the picture before he even got started.
Farjika’s mouth fell open, and her eyes narrowed. Errion could tell she was on the verge of calling him a liar and heaping another spectacular verbal bashing on his head when she remembered what he had on her. Clamping her mouth tightly closed, she glared at him. Errion had heard of women who were beautiful when they were angry. He’d never met one until now. In her fury, Farjika was spectacular. Her eyes sparkled, her cheeks flushed, the color of her lips deepened and her nostrils flared delicately, like a huntress on the scent. A charge tightened all the muscles in his body. If ever she were in a position of control over him, she would make him pay. Dearly. The image was alternately frightening and positively orgasmic.
“Don’t be ashamed. He won’t be upset.” Errion watched her do a slow burn.
Hesitantly, Lorren rubbed his cheek against hers. “Is that true?” With one finger to her chin, he turned her face to his. “You can tell me the truth.”
Lying did not come easily to her, but it was amazing what she was willing to do to protect her reputation. “I was afraid if I asked, you’d say no.”
It sounded believable to Errion. To her credit, Farjika put just the right note of tender vulnerability in her voice.
Lorren kissed her softly. “I would never tell you no.”
Errion practically did a dance right on the spot. If Lorren thought his ideas were coming from Farjika, there was no limit to the scenarios they could enact. His mind raced with possibilities. Still, he had to take care. He had to craft situations that would believably have come from her and not him. That would be tricky but not impossible.
“Well, I’ll leave you as I simply must shower. Join me for breakfast, won’t you?” Before they could answer, Errion strode from the room, his open robe furling behind him like a silk cape. He hadn’t felt this wonderful at first light ever. Lorren was the morning person whereas Errion preferred the dark. He could certainly become a morning person if he could wake up to that every day.
Cleaned and dressed in casual slacks, Errion entered the dining room. Lorren and Farjika were in their same seats as last night. Lorren had opted for a similar look to Errion’s: slacks and nothing else, his hairy chest looking suitably impressive and manly. Farjika was dressed in another robe, this one black, that clung to her like a lover. There was a pause when he entered, but Lorren quickly covered it by listing what fare they had.
Sharing a leisurely breakfast was usually not something Errion enjoyed, but today he ate with gusto, his gaze equally drawn to the two people at the table. He carried on light conversation, but his devious mind would not stop spinning detailed scenarios that involved the three of them.
Errion realized his initial idea of bringing Lorren back to himself seemed unlikely, and perhaps Lorren was right; that was not the true essence of Lorren’s inner self. Dispensing pain was a phase, something he’d needed at the time, but no longer. Now he thought perhaps Lorren was best suited to a more pure form of domination. Lorren’s temperament made him perfect for controlling another, not viciously but for the aspect of slowly delivering pleasure. Errion believed everyone had a secret hunger, one that each person carefully guarded for fear of ridicule or rejection.
Farjika secretly hungered for submission. Oh, she had her moments where she would be spectacular in charge of another, but her true nature hungered for long, teasing scenarios and forced pleasure. Force was such a tricky thing. Errion found that many people wanted to be forced to do something, something that they couldn’t summon the courage to do willingly. Having another make them act out their secret longings freed them from that inner shame. More than once he’d heard a submissive swear that they didn’t want to do whatever it was he told them to do, but they did because they had to. Because he made them. Funny, they always managed to climax. Inwardly, he laughed because they always managed to come back for more as well. Farjika would be no different.
“Well, sadly, I must attend to some businesses today.” Lorren lifted and kissed Farjika’s hand. While his head was down, her expression flashed pure panic; about the last thing she wanted was to be alone with Errion.
Errion smiled at her, then blew her a kiss.
On the verge of glaring at him, Lorren lifted his head, and she pouted. “Can’t you have one of your subordinates take care of things?”
“I wish I could.”
And Errion knew how true that statement was. Just as Farjika didn’t want to be alone with him, Lorren certainly didn’t want to leave her here with him either. They had always had a measure of trust in their relationship, but that all fell apart when Farjik
a entered their lives.
“If only you had something to wear, I could take you with me.” Lorren rubbed the edge of the black robe between his fingers. “Again I apologize for ruining your dress.”
He said he was sorry, but Errion certainly didn’t see regret in Lorren’s eyes. He’d ripped her dress right off her, and he wasn’t a bit sorry because doing so had felt so damn good he’d probably about climaxed as he heard and felt the fabric ripping. Errion practically had. Farjika’s shock at her sudden exposure had been genuine, but so had her slick little sex. She might have been angry, but she’d also enjoyed his brutality.
A beautiful plan burst fully formed into Errion’s mind. “I think a shopping trip with you would be wonderful.”
Her eyes darted to him and widened as if he’d suddenly grown a second head.
“You’d do that?” Lorren was suitably impressed with Errion’s generosity, as he should be. Errion had never offered to escort any woman around the shops before. Errion hated shopping, as he had all his clothing fashioned by an exclusive tailor. Lorren was the one who delighted in perusing the shops for interesting items he later had custom fitted. Errion made the offer only to get Lorren out of the way so he could have some privacy to concoct the next scenario with Farjika. Amazing how even after a spectacular release this morning, he was already consumed with generating the next one. Both Lorren and Farjika would feel so much safer leaving her with him if they were out in public and not trapped here at the manor. Of course, silly creatures that they were, they actually thought he’d behave in public. As if Errion had ever cared about anyone’s opinion of him.
“Of course I would.” Errion gave a modified bow from his chair. “We could go to your skip, retrieve something for you to wear, have you send a message to your people, reassure your guards of your continued good health, and then spend the day on Market Street.” It sounded like a perfectly lovely outing to his ears, and his enthusiasm must have swayed Lorren of his good intentions, because he swiveled his head questioningly to Farjika.
She hesitated only slightly, then nodded, not enthusiastically but almost with resignation. Errion would have to have a chat with her about acting a bit less afraid of him or Lorren would certainly catch on. The man might be clouded with lust, but he wasn’t stupid. Eventually, Lorren was bound to notice Farjika’s dislike if she didn’t school her features.
“Of course, I’ll pay for everything,” Lorren said.
Ah, he thought her reluctance was about money. How quaint that Lorren was offering out his wallet to the future ruler of an entire planet. However, rather than scoffing at such a pathetic tribute, Farjika’s face softened.
“You are so sweet, but truly, I’m fine.” She leaned close and whispered, “And if I had it all to do over again, I would have you do no differently.”
Their eyes met, held.
Even from this distance, Errion felt the heat flow between them. Jealousy flared and caused him to shoot to his feet. “Well,” he said, clapping his hands loudly and ruining the moment, “let us be on our way!” He injected enthusiasm into his voice that he didn’t feel. However, he would have an entire day alone with Farjika. He strode over to her and offered out his hand. When her eyes met his and she placed her trembling hand into his, he didn’t have to be a mind reader to know she was as excited as she was afraid. Rather than offering out a smile to reassure her, he deliberately made his face hard, gripped her hand a bit too tight and coldly swept his gaze from her bare feet to her face. “Oh, we are simply going to have the best time.”
Chapter Thirteen
“It’s too tight!” Farjika could hardly breathe in the restrictive garment. Errion called it a corset, but she called it a bust crusher. “How am I expected to move while wearing this?” The stiff item mashed her breasts together and lifted them until they were practically below her chin. In addition, it nipped her waist, which was already tiny. When she spied herself in the mirror, she looked on the verge of breaking in half, as if her waist was too narrow to hold up the burgeoning extreme of her chest. “I look foolish!”
“Not at all.” Errion slumped in a chair, one leg thrown casually over the armrest, his eyes glued to her as the saleswoman poured her into various fashions. “And when you wear something like this, you aren’t expected to move much.”
She began to suspect that was the point of many things Errion selected for her to wear. They displayed her assets for the purpose of male ogling and not personal comfort. Farjika would have stormed off long ago, but she knew she wouldn’t, not until Errion was satisfied and gave the recording to her. With less than half a breath, she sighed. Sending a message to her people had been difficult. Keeping her tone and face positive when she’d felt anything but had been tricky but doable. What had nearly broken her heart was the look on Gabriyel’s face when he saw her in the black robe.
In Diolan, he’d demanded to know what happened to her dress. She’d lied and said she’d hopelessly ruined it by dropping a drink in her lap. His forbidding frown spoke volumes. When his crystal-blue eyes considered Errion, she thought he might shoot flames from them, incinerating him on the spot. Never had she seen him so angry, so suspicious, so downright infuriated that he was impotent to do anything. Because, like a good guard, Gabriyel did as she instructed, even though it was clear he didn’t want to. Again, he asked if she were safe, that he would rescue her if need be, and she’d deliberately laughed and tossed her head, telling him blithely, “If I were in danger, would I be going shopping?”
Stone-faced, he’d reluctantly agreed that no, she probably wouldn’t do so, but he insisted on coming with her for her own protection. She thought Errion would refuse, but to her shock, he magnanimously agreed. On the verge of thanking him for his kindness, he’d utterly ruined the tiniest bit of positive thought she had about him by saying, “He can carry your purchases.”
She wanted to slap him as hard as she could, but that would practically guarantee he’d release the images of her. Determinedly, she held her hands loosely at her sides. Gabriyel kept his hands behind his back so Errion could not see how he clenched and unclenched them in rapid order.
What Errion didn’t know was that Gabriyel spoke his language as well as she did. Better, in fact, in her opinion. For security reasons, he insisted on not letting anyone know, and she respected his decision, but he’d barely been able to refrain from slamming Errion against the nearest wall when he’d decided to treat him like a servant. Gabriyel was the strongest, smartest and highest ranked guard in the entire palace. Her father would not have appointed him to protect her otherwise. To have an arrogant barsita denigrate him right to his face was inexcusable, but Farjika couldn’t do anything about it. Somehow, someday, she would make all of this up to Gabriyel.
Poor Gabriyel stood outside the dressing area, his massive arms heaped in packages as his stoic face kept anyone from daring to enter. Farjika considering asking Errion to stop tormenting him, but she thought if she did, he would probably only torture him more. Errion had an enormous nasty streak that none seemed able to check. Considering herself in the mirror, she wondered what Lorren would do if she told him everything. If anyone could punish Errion and make him regret his awful behavior, she had a feeling Lorren could. However, she thought that given the sneak Errion was, he’d probably planned for that possibility. She had a feeling that if she involved Lorren in any way, the images would automatically be dispensed around the universe.
After another dozen outfits were pulled, slid or plastered against her, Errion was finally satisfied with her wardrobe replacements. Some of the garments she liked, but most she didn’t. Explaining the Diolan system of colors to Errion resulted in him selecting several brown items. Coming up behind her as she modeled them with an angry face, he’d whispered, “For the time being, you are my slave. Having you dressed in brown might be a good reminder for you.”
Thankfully, Gabriyel was not in the room or he surely would have balked. Last night he’d eyed her brown robe with such a look of
disgust on his face it was almost comical. Consequences be damned, but if he heard or saw what Errion was doing to her, Gabriyel would strangle the life out of him long before Errion could call for help.
At the last possible moment, Errion relented, insisting that the brown did not complement her skin the way the crimson, gold and black garments did. He kept the same designs but demanded those alternate colors. The harried saleswoman was only too happy to oblige, probably because those were the colors she had suggested in the first place, but also because she was probably looking forward to their departure. Not only had Errion been acting like an utter bastard, but also Gabriyel’s glowering had kept all other shoppers from entering the boutique.
Rather than returning to the manor, Errion insisted on entering yet another store, this one tucked far away from the others. Unlike the bright, airy nature of the high-end boutiques, this one was more menacing, with heavy black curtains and shiny silver furniture. Errion insisted Gabriyel stand guard in the main room while he escorted her into the back.
Casting her gaze around the tiny room, she saw mirrors placed against three walls, the ceiling, and the floor. The one on the floor was quite scuffed, but she was still able to see right up her dress as she walked over it. Dim lighting gave the black-painted room a sinister feel, and somehow made the air seem colder even though it wasn’t. She shivered. Bumps washed along the exposed skin of her arms. A sinking feeling began in the pit of her belly and spread out along her limbs. Farjika didn’t think they were actually going to buy anything here.
Errion spoke in sibilant whispers to someone she could not see, then turned to her.
“Remove your dress.”
The strange-colored lighting enhanced his eyes, making them glow as it cast shadows against his face. Lean and hungry-looking, Errion flipped his hair back and unbuttoned his shirt. His fingers were steady as he slid them down the front placket, popping button by button, slowly revealing a chest exactly like Lorren’s but for an utter lack of hair. Smoothly, he pulled the shirt off his shoulders and tossed it aside.
Dark Empress: The Onic Empire, Book 5 Page 12
