Dark Empress: The Onic Empire, Book 5

by Anitra Lynn McLeod

  “You could try keeping your legs together,” Errion suggested.

  “As if that would stop any one of you.”

  “Right.” He smooched her cheek with a loud, smacking kiss. “We’d just bend you over.”

  Visualizing his suggestion moistened her panties. Again, she sighed. She couldn’t seem to wear a dry pair for very long before one of her lovers reduced them to a slick mess. She’d considered going without but didn’t wish to leave a stain on the back of her dresses. All three men suggested that whenever she got too wet, one of them would gladly mop up. Rolling her eyes, she rejected the idea out of hand. She’d have to learn to walk with one of them wedged between her legs.

  To her delight, Errion pulled off the excessive train of the skirt, making the dress more maneuverable. He also removed the trail of fabric from her head, which took pressure off her neck, and lightened her mood considerably.

  “Does anything else come off?” Her gaze concentrated hard on the ruffles that encircled her hips and bottom.

  “I like the way they plump you up.” His gleaming eyes rendered his statement unnecessary. The only time he’d stopped looking at her backside was when she’d marched up the crimson-carpeted aisle toward him. Once there, she’d had him on one side, Lorren on the other, and Errion had repeatedly dropped his gaze to her bottom.

  “My behind is generous enough without the help of three layers of ruffles.” She sighed and then laughed. “Stop thinking of me bent over and naked, Errion.”

  “I’m trying!” He tossed up his hands dramatically. “But you keep thinking of your ass, which makes me think of it too, and now so are Lorren and Gabriyel.”

  Peripherally, she felt both men smile and nod.

  Lorren had left to check on preparations for the reception that Gabriyel was busy looking after, giving her a moment alone with Errion. His pleasure at the ceremony was so great she felt her own heart lift. For a man who tried so valiantly to project disdain, he was remarkably traditional and deeply sensitive.

  “I know you don’t like the dress, but—”

  “I love you.” She cut him off. “I don’t care about anything else but that.”

  “Really?” Errion’s surprise drew her near. “And all I can think of is getting you out of it.” He reached for the zipper along the back.

  “Ah, ah, ah!” She pressed her hand against his chest, holding him off. “We agreed that we’d wait until tonight.” Having all three of her wild lovers together at once was a heady thought indeed. For the last few cycles, they hadn’t managed to get together all at once, what with their travel to Avalith, the demands of Javon, Gabriyel’s training of royal guards, and her continued diplomatic work. But tonight everything was ready.

  Determined, Farjika carefully planned the night. So carefully did she scheme that her backup plans had backup plans to ensure that nothing would interfere. Not that she minded the one-on-one encounters or even the two-on-one encounters. All that was wonderful, fulfilling, and extremely satisfying. But to have them all together at once…

  Swooning at the thought, she almost toppled on her heels, but Errion caught her about the waist.

  Pressing his lips to her ear as he nestled his cock against her bottom hard enough to penetrate the layers of ruffles, he whispered, “We’re looking forward to this night as well.” He nipped her ear. “So many plans for our luscious lady.”

  Floating through the party, accepting congratulations from people who passed through her mind in a blur, all Farjika could think of was nightfall. Elaborate entertainments and tables laden with treats barely penetrated her awareness as her gaze drifted from Lorren to Gabriyel to Errion. All so unique. All so dear. All returning her gaze with lustful intensity. But what caused her heart to skip a beat, then pound so furiously the thudding drowned out the sounds of hundreds of people celebrating in the great hall, was the impact of their unconditional love.

  Shining in their eyes and from the touches of their minds to hers, she knew the depth of their love for her. Each man had given greatly to be by her side. When she burst into tears, the guests attributed her heightened emotional state to the elaborate ceremony. Only she knew the realization that she was fully, deeply and eternally loved by three amazing men was responsible for her outburst.

  For a long time, Farjika strived to be different from her mother, refusing even the most basic interest by a man, because falling in love might lead to uncontrollable lust. How ironic that her uncontrollable lust brought the greatest love to her not just once, but three times over.

  Finally, the party drew to a close, and before she knew it, Farjika was alone in her room with all three of her mates. Working in tandem, they removed her dress, exposing her to surprisingly warm and heavily scented air. With steady hands, they placed her in a contraption that hung from the ceiling. They did this so quickly she scarce realized what was happening until it was too late for her to struggle. Not that she really wanted to.

  Baffled, she looked up and realized Errion had solved the anchoring problem by installing a metal bar that extended out from the wall. At the end of the hook, the slings for her upper back, bottom and knees descended. Clearly, they had spent a lot of time designing the sling, as the strips were wide and softly padded, allowing her to dangle at ease. She was helpless to move but cradled comfortably in her captivity.

  “When we’re finished, the slings come off and the arm swings back, discreetly blending into the wall.” Errion considered her position, running his hands up the inside of her thighs, testing the height of her body. Proudly he showed her that with a touch of his fingers, he could raise, lower or even invert her into whatever position he wished.

  As he said long ago, there was a curious freedom in bondage. Not having to make any decisions unchained her mind and allowed her the luxury of becoming a purely sensual creature. Having three very different and utterly dedicated men willing to attend to her every need was heady indeed. Moreover, she intuitively knew she was safe in their care. Exhaling a long, slow breath she grinned at three very aroused men with anticipation.

  Sensitized nerves responded to the touch of air upon her skin. Her breathing and heart rate accelerated, her nipples peaked, and her now bare and fully exposed sex grew slick. For a brief moment, she worried there would be confusion with so many people together seeking pleasure. All she’d done was ensure they would be together. She hadn’t allowed herself to think much beyond that, as the mechanics made her dizzy.

  “Relax, Farjika. We’ve worked everything out.” Errion’s voice lowered to that wickedly commanding tone she adored.

  While she dangled in her straps, Gabriyel, Lorren and Errion stripped off their clothing. Revealing themselves slowly allowed her to relax, settle in and anticipate the plans they had for her, because clearly, the three of them had handled every detail.

  Errion slipped between her legs with a smirk, lifting the edge of his lips. Flipping back a hank of blond hair, he pressed a button that elevated her hips and lowered her back, forcing her to grasp the straps under her arms. Gabriyel stood to her right, Lorren to her left. Simultaneously Errion smoothed his hands up her legs, from her knee to the juncture of her thigh, while Gabriyel leaned forward, kissing her with delicate nibbles, while Lorren cupped her breasts, teasing the nipples before pulling them with his lips and fingertips.

  The smoothly shaved edge of Errion’s jaw followed the same path of his hand, stroking up from her knee to her inner thigh. Once there he sighed as he traced his finger up and down her pouting nether lips.

  Softly, he whispered, “So wet, so wanton. We’ve only just begun and already your body trembles as you crave penetration.”

  Farjika closed her eyes, feeling his breath caress her body as his finger now made wide circles around the quivering ring of her passage. Her body felt weightless and free, her inhibitions gone along with any lingering fears.

  “Hungry and grasping, you anticipate having all of us, one after another, filling you. Stretching you. Pounding into this need
y flesh.” Errion tightened the circle of his finger until he held the tip just at the opening. Slowly, Errion plunged his finger inside. “Tight and hot.”

  Farjika felt her passage grasping at his finger, desperately trying to pull more of his digit within, but she knew Errion’s torment had only just begun. Back and forth he teased his lone finger into and out of her depths, flicking his thumb across her clit. His motions were enough to cause her to move gently in the swing, and Gabriyel matched the rhythm.

  Reminded of her torment in the Fentaru ropes, she moaned into Gabriyel’s mouth. Growling back, catching the image from her mind, he continued kissing her in increasingly passionate ways. His lips were possessive of hers, his tongue plunging and flicking in mimic of Errion’s hand, heightening her awareness of his actions between her legs.

  Not to be left out, Lorren pressed her breasts together, flicking her nipples at that same leisurely pace, causing all her senses to overload. She felt at once her own body surrendering to their masterful touches, but also she was within them, sharing the link they had with one another. All of them strove to give her the greatest pleasure, and they knew just how fast, how hard, how deep because they read her needs by slipping into her awareness.

  Higher and higher she went until she floated right on the brink of a spectacular release. Errion pulled her back by changing the rhythm and having Gabriyel and Lorren follow suit. Her groan of denial caused all three of them to chuckle.

  “Not yet,” Errion cooed, altering her position. “Not yet, my lovely lady.”

  Lowering her to almost a horizontal position, he angled her back up just enough so that she could see him. Plunging his finger into her, he met her gaze. “Do you want more?”

  “You know I do.” She licked her lips, trying not to order him to give her his cock, because she knew if she did, he wouldn’t.

  Having caught her thought, Errion grinned and nodded. “I never did like taking orders.” Lowering his head but riveting his intense gaze on her, he murmured, “But for you, I’ll make an exception.”

  In perfect synchronicity, Gabriyel and Lorren slid their hands down to cup the backs of her knees, spreading her legs wide as they each took a nipple within their mouths. Errion stepped forward and plunged his cock within. Straps and the strong arms of Lorren and Gabriyel stymied her instinct to arch up. All she was able to do was gasp at the shock of going from painfully unfilled to wonderfully full.

  “Isn’t that what you wanted?” Errion pulled all the way out, leaving her feeling so empty inside she squirmed. Anticipating another rough plunge, she braced herself, but this time he slipped into her so slowly she moaned in pleasurable frustration. Unable to determine his pace, she closed her eyes, letting her head fall back. She simply allowed herself to feel everything without anticipation.

  While Gabriyel and Lorren held her steady, Errion thrust between her legs, his talented fingers flicking over her clit, keeping her simmering just at the verge of climax. Eager mouths teased her breasts, her neck, and the tender spot behind her ear.

  Letting her awareness flow away from the physical, she touched each man’s emotional heart. Gabriyel the hero, who took pride in his status but didn’t resent sharing her with the other men she loved. Lorren the master, who was finally able to accept his need to dominate. And Errion the romantic, hiding behind an indifferent exterior to mask the depth of his heart.

  Blinded by love, Farjika felt all of them as they teased and pleased her body, their touches careful yet passionate. In turn, each reached the pinnacle of physical pleasure, but what mattered more, far more, was reaching the very height of emotional gratification. Finally, at long last, they realized they were stronger together than apart.

  About the Author

  Anitra Lynn McLeod has been writing since she was twelve. Creating unique worlds is her forte, combining unlikely genres such as historical, fantasy, futuristic and erotic into a steampunky—and steamy—brew.

  Reading, writing, and white-water rafting are the three things she enjoys the most. You can visit her at www.AnitraMcLeod.com, write to her at alm@AnitraMcLeod.com, or fan her at http://www.facebook.com/pages/Anitra-Lynn-McLeod/323123001356

  You can also follow her on twitter @AnitraMcLeod

  Or if all else fails, you can also snail mail her:

  Anitra Lynn McLeod

  PO Box 16631

  SLC, UT 84116-0631

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  Look for these titles by Anitra Lynn McLeod

  Now Available:

  The Fringe

  Thief

  Overlord

  Onic Empire

  Wicked Empress

  Coming Soon:

  The Fringe

  Runner

  Duty…or desire? It will take two men to answer that question…

  Wicked Empress

  © 2011 Anitra Lynn McLeod

  The Onic Empire, Book 4

  Bithia, newly crowned empress of Diola, indulges herself with as many men as it takes to satisfy her voracious passion. Now that it’s time to continue the family line, though, her advisors expect the unthinkable: for her to submit to one man from a sexually primitive planet.

  Drahka disobeyed his tribe’s strict sexual rules once. The shame still haunts him. He longs for a fresh start, but breaking one cardinal rule—a man gives, a woman takes—is not an option. His struggle to learn local customs is complicated by a mentor whose eyes hunger for the empress…and for him.

  Viltori is exhausted. He’s tried to teach Drakha that there many ways to find pleasure, only to be met with anger, even violence. Touching the handsome primitive only sharpens his unbearable lust for Bithia, making him wonder if execution for failure wouldn’t be a blessing.

  When Bithia witnesses the results of Viltori’s training, she realizes only these two men can fill her empty heart, inspiring her to take command of the throne at last. Except those who’ve held the reins thus far have a sinister reason for keeping Bithia—and her new consorts—in their place.

  Warning: This erotic romantic fantasy contains a lusty empress, a primitive alpha male, a dedicated acolyte with domineering tendencies, copious amounts of hot m/m and m/f/m sex, secret torments, burning desires clashing with duty, and a little bit of meddling by future gods.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Wicked Empress:

  Viltori settled into the softest chair he’d ever sat upon as he motioned for Drahka to sit across from him. For a long time they simply sat, using the furniture as a way to teach each other new words.

  Even in the unfamiliar room, they fell to their usual form. Point, ask, explain and repeat. Immersed in learning, Drahka was oblivious to the fact that his robe, unlike his trousers, did not stay closed when he shifted about. Each time Drahka moved, he revealed more of his hairy calves, then his thighs. Each time he celebrated his understanding, Drahka lifted the crimson fabric up higher, getting ever closer to the juncture of his legs. After grasping a particularly difficult word, Drahka lifted his hands in triumph, which wrenched his robe apart, exposing his hips, cock and both legs.

  Viltori tried not to gape, but the man was huge, hairy and, hottest of all, uncut. Most men on Diola, even those in the barbaric outer regions, were circumcised shortly after birth. Viltori had not known of the difference until he’d traveled to Oughun. As he stood with several other men urinating directly into a rushing stream, they’d excitedly pointed to his differentness. The Oughun men asked a hundred questions and Viltori hoped he’d answered them fully. Oughunian men had never seen a cut cock and Viltori had never seen one that wasn’t. Culturally they exchanged much that bonded them together. Viltori knew Drahka was uncut, and he’d tried to tell Drahka that he should inform Bithia, but when he’d tried to show him this information, he’d lashed out. Oughnians had clearly defined taboos about same-sex touching of any sort.

  To his horror, Drahka noticed the direction of Viltori’s gaze. Before he could babble out an explanation, Drahka cupped his cock and asked, “Wha
t is wrong with my cock?” Lowering his head he said, “You tried to touch, to show me, and I tried to hit you. I’m sorry. Please now show me what is wrong with my cock.”

  Gulping, Viltori said, “Nothing.” Not a damn thing he could see, anyway. He’d like nothing better than to do to Drahka what Rown had done to him earlier. “What makes you think there is anything wrong with your cock?”

  “Bithia say something uncute.”

  After a moment, where he couldn’t imagine anyone, even Bithia, calling a cock cute or not, Viltori understood. “Not cut,” he said. “Uncut, not un-cute.” Briefly, he explained the difference between the two words, then tried valiantly to convey the meaning behind Bithia’s comment.

  Thrusting his finger at Viltori, Drahka demanded, “Show me yours that is cut.” Concern filled his stoic face as if he were genuinely worried that someone had cut up Viltori’s cock.

  Eyeing the door, wondering just how much longer Bithia would be gone and if she’d be upset about him teaching her consort this, Viltori moved to a seat that blocked him from view of the doorway. If she did enter suddenly, he could pull his robe closed before she saw what he was doing.

  Drahka seemed to understand the furtive nature of their discussion. Frowning, Drahka moved to the couch, sitting next to him. He eyed the door that was well over the high back of the couch. When Viltori parted his robe, showing Drahka his painfully hard, circumcised cock, Drahka leaned over.

  Breathing hard enough to brush hot air over the pounding length of Viltori’s cock, Drahka said, “You not cut.” Reaching out his left hand, Drahka wrapped his fist around Viltori’s cock. “No cut.” Lowering his head, placing his face a bare breath above the tip, Drahka bellowed, “Ah! Cut off tip!” Pulling back, yanking open his robe, Drahka grasped his own cock and tugged his foreskin. “Cut off tip, not cut up cock!” Proudly displaying his penis, Drahka considered Viltori’s for another moment, then grasped him again. Running his fingers up and down, hardening him further, Drahka leaned close again and asked, “When you were cut, were you hurt?”