The Pleasure Rites Series

by Ines Johnson

  His eyes rose to her hands in the painting. They were suspended above her head, wrists constricted, fingers falling free from the tension. The sight of Alyss’ suspended hands even now made his dick hard. Adom looked away from the painting. Even if he were ever allowed to paint her, or bind her again, sex could never be a part of the equation. Not with his proclivities.

  His hands itched, his heart ached that he couldn’t give her what she needed. But it was now impossible. He would not betray Emet. Emet, who Adom loved with every bit of his heart, was his world.

  Adom stood and prepared to move the painting aside. His memory and imagination would have to serve him from here on out. A sound at the door to his studio had him turning.

  In the door stood Emet. Before Emet stood Alyss. Her eyes were rapt to the painting in his hands. She stepped forward, arms stretching out. Her breaths were heavy. Moisture pricked the edges of her eyes. She reached her hand out but pulled away before her fingertips met the canvas. She looked up at Adom. Her mouth worked, but no words escaped. They didn’t need to. Adom felt the same way about their work. And it was their work. He could not have done this without her.

  But why was she here now? With Emet?

  Adom had barred the storefront door and hid in his studio like a coward, uncertain if he could turn her away when she came to him. It could only have been Emet who let her in.

  But why?

  Behind Alyss, Emet cleared his throat. Adom tore his eyes away from his muse and focused on his bondmate. There was censure written across his features.

  “Lady Alyss and I have come to an agreement.”

  Adom’s heartbeat picked up, keeping a steady rhythm so that his ears missed none of Emet’s words.

  “She may sit for you again.”

  Adom looked down to Alyss who beamed with pure joy. Her eyes looked around the room, hungry. They touched on the blank canvases, the paint, the pencils. The rig.

  Adom wasn’t beaming, not yet. He knew his mate. That wasn’t the end of his statement on this arrangement. There would be a condition, and Adom suspected that neither he nor Alyss would like it.

  “If she is to sit for you,” Emet continued. “I insist on being in the room.”

  That caught Alyss’ attention. She turned back to him. “You didn’t say that before.”

  “I’m saying it now.”

  “But why?”

  Emet’s eyes went to Adom. Emet wasn’t about to tell Lady Alyss why. Emet and Adom never spoke of the reason Adom kept his distance from women.

  “I’m not only his mate, I’m his advocate. If he displeased you, you could take your complaint to the Peace Keepers, and he’d be thrown in jail.”

  Adom looked away from the memories playing across Emet’s brown gaze, memories of Adom at the mercy of a panicked young woman and her shrewd Mother.

  “I would never do such a thing,” Alyss insisted. “I would never do anything to hurt Adom or his work.”

  “Yet, tomorrow afternoon you’ll be fighting to end one of his basic rights.”

  Alyss ground her teeth.

  Emet closed the door and took a seat beside the door frame. He made a motion to Adom to proceed. Lady Alyss turned her back on Emet, shutting him out of her vision. Anger still crinkled the edges of her eyes and pinched her heart-shaped mouth. She took a deep breath and released it. When she opened her eyes, the golden-brown was already churning bright.

  “How do you want me?” she said to Adom.

  With one final look of gratitude at Emet, Adom turned to his muse. He looked her up and down. There were so many ideas and visions vying for his attention.

  Her dress today was a movement of orange, black and white. It fluttered around her like a bird, or a butterfly. Her body sat in the center as though she were a flower, a lotus. The lotus blossom was a sexual image; a representation of a woman’s sacred flower. Adom had a vision of Lady Alyss awakening in the petals of a blossom.

  He pulled a chair before his easel. “Will you have a seat, my lady?”

  Alyss sent a disappointed glance towards the rig before trudging to the proffered seat.

  Adom’s mouth quirked. He knew he hadn’t imagined that she wanted the bindings. That look just then was proof positive. He sent his smile over his shoulder, but Adom was met with a frown from his bondmate. But Emet refused to acknowledge the unspoken message.

  Adom sighed and put his back to his lover. He knelt down before Lady Alyss. Her breath caught when their gazes met. Adom sat back on his haunches placing his face in alignment with her core. He held her gaze for a moment, searching her depths, trying to see how far he could take her today. He saw a clear path to the destination he wanted in her golden eyes, but he reached for her foot instead.

  He undid the ties on her boot, frowning at the lack of symmetry between the laces. He slid the boot free and positioned her leg on the outside of the chair leg. Then he did the same with the other boot, foot, and leg. When he was done, Lady Alyss sat spread eagle in the chair. Her dress obstructed his view of her blossom, but Adom was a patient man. When he made love to Emet, and in the past the women under his tutelage, orgasm was only a destination. Adom most enjoyed the journey and the explorations of the path. He liked to venture both high and low, taking his companion along for a long ride.

  Adom rose and went to his rope collection. He selected a hemp rope. The material was a bit coarser than the one he’d used on Lady Alyss the previous night. He wanted her to feel the bite today.

  Adom returned to Lady Alyss. Standing over top of her from behind the chair, he looked down and saw her breasts heaving in pants. She was both excited and aroused. She sucked in a shuddery breath when Adom gathered her forearms behind her back.

  He draped her arms over the chair’s back and bound her. Before he finished, Alyss’ head was already dropping back in rope ecstasy. Adom chanced a glance at Emet. The male was leaning forward in his chair, his eyes rapt on Alyss.

  When Emet caught Adom staring, he sat back in his chair, crossed his arms over his chest and looked into the corner.

  Adom walked the short path back to his easel, eager for this journey to get underway, in no hurry to get to the end.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Emet gathered his papers and slapped the edges of the stack down onto the desk until they all aligned into a neat square bundle. After the morning session of watching Adom sketch the beginning of a painting of Lady Alyss, Emet had returned to work. He would not allow the sight of her painted toes and delicate ankles to deter him from his mission to right the scales of justice for all man-kind.

  They were adversaries, he and Lady Alyss, and he would be mindful to remember that. Not the look of ecstasy on her face from the sound of Adom’s pencil scratches. Not the flush on her breasts from the rope bliss. He now admitted she wasn’t playing a game. At least not with Adom. Emet saw, that like him, the ropes called to Alyss.

  The three of them had braked for a few hours so that Alyss could rest from the pull of the ropes and Emet could work. They’d agreed to meet back in the studio at day’s end.

  “Headed out?”

  The Male Voice poked his head inside Emet’s cubicle. The offices were empty of all other males. All the advocates were older males, second sons from prominent families. Emet was the youngest advocate and the only one who had worked another occupation. It had taken awhile for the other males to warm up to him. In time they saw that Emet was both knowledgeable and dedicated to the work. Trust bloomed easily afterwards and Emet counted many of the males in the office as friends.

  “You have a big day tomorrow,” said the Voice. “Is there anything you want to discuss?”

  “No, I have everything I need.”

  “We’re a team here, Emet. No one’s expecting you to shoulder all the burden. Ask for help if you need it.”

  Emet saw a hint of worry in the Male Voice’s eyes. He hated the idea of being doubted. Couldn’t stand that someone whom he respected would question his abilities. He hesitated a bri
ef second before extending the packet of papers he’d received from Lady Alyss as part of their negotiations.

  The Male Voice took the papers. His eyes widened as he read the parchment. “Where did you get these?”

  Most documents were digital, which also meant traceable. You couldn’t trace printed paper. If he named Lady Alyss the Male Voice would naturally wonder why his opponent would give Emet such a powerful weapon against her case.

  “An interested party placed them in my hands.”

  The Male Voice looked Emet up and down. It had been a difficult sell bringing Emet on. He had no formal education outside of the temple. He had no family backing to help him maneuver in the political world. His Mother had returned to the Goddess years ago. His brother and sisters were busy with their own families and never showed Emet any interest. Emet had gotten by his entire life on his wits and his sharp mind.

  The Male Voice handed the papers back to Emet. “There are a lot of sharks in this world, Emet.”

  “I’ve navigated rough waters before.” Emet placed the papers in his case. “I’ll be prepared for tomorrow.”

  “I have every confidence you will.” The Voice placed a hand on Emet’s shoulder and gave a squeeze.

  As the Voice walked past him and back inside his offices, Emet allowed his large frame to sag against his desk. When he straightened, he was more determined than ever to win this battle.

  He left the building and headed home.

  When he arrived at the storefront, he saw Alyss and Adom from the window. They looked like a picture perfect couple. Adom’s fingers worked over parchment. Alyss bent over watching his fingers move. They both looked up at the sound of the bell above the door.

  Adom’s face lit up at the sight of Emet. “We were waiting for you.”

  Emet wondered if his mate was excited to see him or if he was excited to get started with his muse again. Emet’s eyes strayed to Lady Alyss. Her smile, bright before, dropped into the reserved polite up-tilt of her station. Gone was the blissful look that clouded her features when Adom had bound and sketched her this morning. Emet motioned for them to head down into the studio. He turned the lock on the shop’s door and followed behind them.

  They descended into the studio and Adom showed them his progress. The meanings of Adom’s abstract artworks always eluded Emet. The meaning behind this painting was clear. It was a lotus blossom. Its leaves done in vibrant shades of green. From the core of the blossom emerged a woman, her arms and legs stretching as though she were awakening, being born, or perhaps even giving birth. At present the woman’s body was colorless.

  “I’m can’t see the colors,” Adom said. “She’s meant to be born out of the flower. The colors should look like a woman’s core.”

  Silence rang deafeningly loud in the small studio.

  “You need me to disrobe?” Lady Alyss’ voice was husky.

  Adom turned to her. “You would be perfectly safe.”

  “I’m not shy. The female form is art in and of itself. I trust you.” She looked back to the painting. “And I want it to be perfect.”

  Lady Alyss slid the straps of her gown off her shoulders. She untied the strings, and the gown fell. She was left in her undergarments. She walked over to the chair. Emet watched the twin globes of her heart-shaped ass, unable to look away.

  Lady Alyss reached behind her back and unclasped her bras. She turned to sit in the chair, but froze. Her eyes caught Emet watching her. Adom was at his cabinet of ropes. She hesitated for a moment, looking Emet dead in the eye.

  “You’re perfect, my lady.” Adom came towards her, ropes in hands.

  Alyss’ eyes fluttered at the sight of the twine. She pulled the straps of her bras free. Without another second’s hesitation, she stepped out of her panties.

  Emet swallowed, keeping his head away from her, but his eyes strained to the edge of his perception. Finally, he turned, lifted his chair up and faced it into the corner. He sat back carefully, hiding his erection. By the time he settled, he heard Adom knotting her hands behind.

  It was the sound of the ropes that lured his body back around, not the woman. Emet couldn’t resist the crackling sound of the binds. He saw his bondmate down on his knees. Adom looked as though he were worshipping at the core of the Goddess, herself.

  This time Emet could not tear his eyes away from her. His lips parted and then closed. He tried to swallow, but had difficulty with the rising tide cresting beneath his tongue. Adom spread her thighs. Emet saw her chest heave in a pant. Her core was presented to them; glistening, a shock of dark pink hidden behind dark fur.

  With his muse roped securely to the chair, Adom stepped back to his easel. His brow furrowed. “I can’t see you clearly.”

  Emet wondered what Adom would do. He had genital clamps in his little drawer. Perhaps he’d use them on the little princess. But it wasn’t likely. Clamps were pleasurable when they were on, but once you pulled them off pain flooded the senses. It was against the law to hurt women in any way, shape, or form.

  “Em?”

  Emet looked up at the call of his name.

  “Would you help?”

  Emet blinked.

  “Would you part her labias for me?” Adom turned back to Lady Alyss, assuming that Emet was automatically on board. “He’s a trained hound as well, my lady. He will be entirely professional in his handling of you.”

  Emet’s eyes bulged in his head. His legs were nearly in motion. His hands didn’t immediately obey his command to grip the edges of the chair to stay still. It was a struggle to get his mouth to work up a protest. “You -you can’t show that.”

  “Of course not. I just need to mix the colors; for the flower petals.” Adom took his seat and arranged his paints.

  Emet wasn’t buying Adom’s ploy of abstract art. He looked to Lady Alyss. She frowned at him as though he were childish. Not one, but both of her eyebrows raised.

  “He doesn’t look like a professional.” Lady Alyss’ head tilted to the side. Emet saw her wrists and ankles give a tug at the ropes. She inhaled, the restraints obviously emboldening her. “He looks like a scared little boy. Are you sure we need him?”

  A flash of Lady Alyss at the first debate came to his mind. She’d tried to distract him with her feminine wiles then and had failed. Emet had to remind himself that she was untried. She had never felt a man’s hands on her, didn’t know the pleasure it would bring.

  Emet rose. His hands clenched at his sides, his legs taking sure strides to the pampered princess sitting bare and spread in the center of the room. A tiny gasp escaped her as Emet stood before her, towering over her. She closed her mouth, lifted her chin, and narrowed her eyes at him as though he were no threat.

  Emet sank down to her level. He watched her throat work to swallow down her draining confidence. He sensed her naked body fidget under his scrutiny, but he never took his eyes off hers. She must have read something in his expression because her expression became one that was all too familiar to Emet.

  It wasn’t fear, or arousal. It was the look a woman got when a strong man stood before her. Even kneeling, Emet emanated power over her. He remembered this feeling from his days as a hound. He remembered feeling drunk off the power he could lord over a woman and leave her panting for more.

  He reached out his hands slowly. When they contacted her thighs, a shudder quaked along her calf. Her feet, which had been flat against the floor, rose to the balls of her toes. He saw the struggle she waged to keep her eyes open, to maintain any modicum of composure in spite of him.

  Emet smiled. She would lose this battle, and then the one to come tomorrow.

  His hands traveled up her thighs until they reached the skin separating her legs from her labias. She panted in earnest, but only through her nose. Her mouth stayed stubbornly shut, her eyes large in her lovely face.

  Emet rested both thumbs in unison on her outer lips. Slowly, ever so slowly, he peeled them back.

  “Yes, that’s it.”

  Emet
heard the sound of Adom’s voice mingled with his brush. Lady Alyss heard it too because after a few brush strokes, her eyes closed and her lips parted on a small moan. Her body moved in tandem with Adom’s brush. Emet saw her forearms tense against the ropes. He felt the muscles of her thighs bunch.

  Unbidden, Emet’s fingers massaged her labias. Just sparse movements up and down the outer lips. If he were honest with himself, he would admit the move wasn’t unbidden. Alyss was attuned to Adom’s brush. Emet wanted her to remember his presence, feel his dominance.

  Under the pads of his fingers, he felt the juices flow from Alyss’ core. The scent of her hit him over the head and he struggled to keep control of his senses. He lost very quickly.

  The top of his right thumb dipped into her slick heat. Alyss moaned and opened her eyes. The gold churned hazy as they looked down at Emet in complete shock. Her lips parted. Emet’s mouth watered. He wanted to sink his tongue into her mouth.

  Instead he pulled his thumb from her core. He held it up, glistening between them. Alyss’ eyes widened as Emet opened his mouth. His tongue flicked out, and he licked. Now it was Emet that moaning. It had been years since he’d tasted a woman. Alyss tasted fresh, sweet.

  From the seat of the chair, he felt her tilt her hips up. But she couldn’t get too far. The ropes at her feet prevented it. The sound of her flesh on the wooden chair made Emet look down. A small puddle was between her legs on the wooden bench. Like a hawk Emet’s head dipped to capture his prey.

  Alyss cried out as his nose met her core. Emet lapped the wood and then tilted his mouth up to capture her wet heat. Her legs trembled. She fought the binds. He knew friction sent delicious waves of sensation up her body. She spasmed. Her inner muscles grabbed at his tongue, pulling him deeper into her. He reveled in the contractions, hummed his approval. Her body jerked more as his humming sent vibrations through her.