The Pleasure Rites Series

by Ines Johnson

  “Lady Eryka, isn’t it?”

  Her eyes raised a fraction, surprise in their crystal blue depths. She nodded in affirmation instead of speaking her answer.

  “My apologies, my lady. Is there something I can help you with?”

  “I was looking for Lady Alyss. Someone mentioned that they saw you speaking with her some time ago.”

  “Lady Alyss is…not here. But I can get a message to her for you if you’d like.”

  Lady Eryka looked over her shoulder. Fear lighting her eyes. She wouldn’t need to speak her message. Emet saw it moving quickly down the halls.

  Lady Angyla headed their way in a flurry of dark billows. “Where’s my daughter?”

  Emet bit the inside of his jaw to temper his response. “Why do you think I would know that?”

  “That compromise nonsense is not her doing. You’ve gotten into her head. I hear you are a trained sex hound. You lot are a menace.”

  “Or perhaps your daughter finally made up her own mind.”

  “You think you’ve won this battle?” Lady Angyla sneered. “This compromise won’t hold against existing laws. A woman is still master of her domain and all who dwell within it.”

  “And you think you can strike down a young woman like she is an insect that annoys you.”

  Lady Angyla balked.

  “You discarded your daughter, like she’s a third male.”

  A firm hand settled on Emet’s shoulder. “Emet,” the Male Voice’s tone was smooth and soothing, but it also held an element of command. “Your daughter is not in our offices, my lady.”

  Lady Angyla kept her attention focused on Emet. “If you have done anything to my daughter, I will have the Peace Keepers on you.”

  “Lady Alyss is a woman grown,” the Male Voice said calmly, though his hand pressed firm into Emet’s shoulder. “If any harm or ill will has befallen her, I’m sure she would alert the Peace Keepers herself.”

  Lady Angyla scowled at the Male Voice. He didn’t flinch. She turned her attention to Lady Eryka who’d squeezed herself into the corner behind the door. “And you, you little mouse.”

  Lady Eryka gave a start that sounded like a squeak.

  “If you’re harboring my daughter inside the chamber of crayons, I’ll have a word with the Society for Sacral Art. My family has had a place on their board of directors for generations.”

  Lady Eryka shrank further into the shadows of the corner.

  “This isn’t over.” Lady Angyla stormed down the hall.

  When she was gone the Male Voice rounded on Emet. The loudness of his intense stare spoke volumes his voice could never reach. Lady Angyla was on a dangerous rampage and would destroy anyone in her path. Emet set his chin. He still would not turn over Alyss. He couldn’t, not after that display.

  The Male Voice sighed and turned from Emet, his attention now off behind the door. He reached out a hand. “Would you allow me to escort you back to your chamber, my lady.”

  Lady Eryka, still wedged in the corner of the doorway, stared at his open hand for a moment. She reached out her shaky hand which the Male Voice wrapped into the crook of his arm. She gave the Male Voice a tentative smile. The Male Voice’s face had been impassive, but he blinked and then stared at the woman. Then he actually smiled, something Emet rarely saw him do. The two went down the hall. Lady Eryka’s steps wobbled, but the Male Voice lent her his full support.

  Emet left the building on quick feet. He was eager to see that Alyss was standing strong and well on her own two feet. When he got to the storefront, he was surprised to find the door locked. He turned his key in the lock. Once inside, he went down the stairs and straight into Adom’s studio. He was surprised that Adom was not at his easel. He looked deeper in the room and then he saw them.

  Adom cradled Alyss. He stroked her face and kissed her forehead.

  Emet waited for a twinge of jealousy. It didn’t rise. Instead his dick hardened at the sight of the two of them together. Adom’s naked body glistened with perspiration. Alyss lay limp in his arms, her naked body…appeared lifeless.

  Then he heard it. Adom’s whispers weren’t words of love, they were frantic pleas. Dread climbed up Emet’s spine as he looked again at Alyss’ limp form.

  “What have you done?”

  Adom lifted his head to Emet. “I’m just waiting for her to wake up.”

  Emet stepped closer.

  “I went a little overboard this time. I’ll hold back next time.”

  Emet saw the red marks up and down her wrists from where he knew she must have pulled at the rope. The same markations were also on her ankles and thighs.

  A bell dinged over the door. Emet and Adom’s eyes went to the top floor. It was well past closing time. It could only be Peace Keepers. Lady Angyla had kept her promise. Once the enforcers saw Lady Alyss in the basement, nude, with angry red markings all over her body, it wouldn’t be jail for he and Adom. It would be death.

  Emet dashed up the steps, heart pounding, mind racing. He just had to keep them from going downstairs. They needed a warrant to search. They couldn’t have gotten one so fast, and definitely not at this time of night. Unless Lady Angyla had pulled strings. He was sure her family sat on more than art gallery boards.

  When Emet got to the top of the steps, a young lady, one he recognized from the Sisterhood entered the store through the door he’d left unlocked.

  “I’m looking to buy a dress. I believe this is where Lady Alyss purchased a dress of ropes. I’d like to get one similar. But different. I’m not a copy cat.”

  “We’re not open.”

  “The sign says otherwise.”

  Emet marched forward and turned the Open sign over to Closed. He held the door wide for the young lady.

  “Well,” she huffed, “I never.”

  Emet slammed and locked the door behind her. A Peace Keeper strolled down the street. The Peace Keeper nodded to the lady, but she didn’t even notice him. The Keeper kept on his way, not once glancing at Emet.

  Emet sagged against the door. He tried to turn the lock again, to find he’s already done that. He pulled the curtain. But it was already too late. That customer wouldn’t be the last lady. Alyss’ Mother might turn up next at their doorstep. And Alyss lay down stairs limp, her body covered in marks. It didn’t matter if they were marks of pain or pleasure. Lady Angyla was out for blood. Adom’s would be just as good as Emet’s. The Male Voice’s words sounded in his head. That family would do anything.

  Emet was torn. He couldn’t send Alyss back to that woman. But she couldn’t stay here either. Adom had made it evident that he couldn’t control himself around her. Even in the beginning, he couldn’t keep his brushes away from her. If she were here all hours of the day, hours when Emet had to work and couldn’t keep Adom in check, Adom would tie her up again. He would take her over and over again, searching for her boundaries and then nudging and pushing past them. Adom couldn’t help himself. Emet had never minded. He craved Adom testing his own limits. But it could never be anyone else’s limits. And definitely not a woman’s.

  Adom had proven that he couldn’t hold himself back with a woman when a curious, newly bonded, young woman had allowed him to bind her and he went too far. And now, years later, he’d proven it again with Lady Alyss.

  Emet didn’t think for a second that he could reason with Alyss’ Mother to keep the family out of scandal like he’d done with the newly bonded client all those years ago. Lady Angyla would use this as proof to get the amendment reversed, and likely have the offices of the Male Voice silenced for once and good.

  Emet rushed down stairs. Alyss still laid limp in Adom’s arms.

  Emet grabbed her dress and covered her. “We have to get her out of here.”

  “But she’s come to stay,” Adom protested.

  “She can’t stay with us.”

  “But you told her she could come.”

  “I was mistaken. She can’t stay. You’ve done this again. Why couldn’t you have waited f
or me.”

  “Em…I may have gone too far this first time, but-"

  “There’s no but, Adom. There will be no next time. We have to get her out of here. Before the Peace Keepers come looking for the both of us.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Alyss pressed her thighs together. A dull throb thrummed deep within her core. It wasn’t unpleasant. She felt both filled and empty at the same time. Her inner muscles clenched as she stretched her limbs into wakefulness.

  She reached out to her right and then to her left, coming up with air. She frowned and opened her eyes. She found neither Adom nor Emet in the bed with her. She supposed she may have assumed too much to expect the men to spend the night with her. They were married after all. They were likely in their own bed. She was a guest here in their home. A guest in their bond.

  Alyss sat up and looked around the room, her new room. She supposed at some time during the night Adom untied her and carried her in. She swung her legs over the bed. There was an ache in her calves, her thighs. But the ache wasn’t pain, not too much anyway. Her shoulders and forearms ached too. Remembering the reason for the tenderness brought a smile to Alyss’ lips. She remembered the waves of pleasure that wracked her body the previous night. She’d held on to the ropes for dear life as Adom made her sail into unconsciousness.

  She ran her fingers over the faint patterns the ropes left on her wrists and forearms. She remembered nothing past Adom thrusting into her and her entire world exploding. She ached to see Adom’s face, Emet’s too. Now that they shared a home, maybe they’d share her.

  Alyss heated at the thought. Only a week ago she’d been repulsed at the idea of one man touching her. She’d been scandalized that her sister enjoyed the touch of both of her bondmates in tandem. Now, Alyss ached for Emet’s lips on hers while Adom held her wrists captive.

  She inhaled to release the thought and moved in front of a gilded mirror attached to a stately chest of drawers. An ornate brush set rested on the surface of the bureau. The gems in the brush alone appeared enough to feed a small army of discards for a month. Past her reflection in the mirror, Alyss caught sight of a high back chair made of mahogany. The Mahogany tree had gone extinct over a century ago. She turned and surveyed more of the fixtures. Everything in the room was ornate or ancient. Never good at math, Alyss couldn’t calculate the exact sum in her head, but she knew it was all expensive. More expensive than she thought a painter and a male advocate could afford.

  Perhaps Adom made the pieces with his own hands. Perhaps he’d made the bookshelf too. It too was made of mahogany. She tilted her head as she looked at the intricate details. She didn’t remember seeing any raw materials of the ancient wood lying around in the studio. She’d never seen any in any stores.

  Alyss spied a dress on a chair. It was not one of her own. She had to assume Adom had made it though it wasn’t his style. It was rather plain, but it was clean. She went into the bathroom, washed up, and then pulled the dress over her head. The sleeves came down to her wrists. Alyss pushed them up past her elbow to show off the marks on her arms. She felt like her body was a canvas come to life. She wanted to display herself for all to see the beauty she and Adom had created together.

  Alyss opened the door to her room and gasped. She stepped out into a hall with expensive carpet and large windows that told her she was on the second floor of a house. Adom and Emet’s storefront was a single story with a basement.

  Where was she?

  “Good morning, my lady.”

  Alyss startled at the sound of the unfamiliar voice. She turned to find a tall male with deeply tanned skin and slanted eyes coming her way. He bowed his bald head as he approached. It was the bow that made her remember.

  “Jian?”

  It was her cousin, Chanyn’s, bond mate.

  Alyss looked at her surroundings again. She’d been in Chanyn’s house twice before, but never up the stairs. Looking out of the window, she recognized the surroundings as Chanyn’s gardens.

  “What am I doing here?”

  “Emet and Adom brought you here…to rest.” He looked at her bare arms, concern etched in his brows.

  Alyss felt the need to cover her arms from his perusal. The glint in his eyes didn’t look like admiration. It looked like an admonishment.

  “Are they here?” She walked past Jian.

  “No.”

  His one word halted her steps. This didn’t make any sense.

  “They brought me here and then…” She waited for Jian to fill in the blank because she could not fathom why Emet and Adom would bring her here after all that happened the previous day.

  “Where are they?”

  “They are at home.”

  “Then I’ll go to them.”

  “My lady.” Jian’s voice was soft, so soft. But she heard the steel in it telling her he would not let her pass. “They’ve let your sister know that you are here. She’ll be by to collect you soon.”

  “My sister? Why would she come to collect me?”

  Jian said nothing.

  “I’m staying with Adom and Emet. Adom needs me…for his paintings. I’m his muse, you see. And Emet…”

  Alyss stopped talking. She wasn’t about to share what transpired between herself and Emet, nor herself and Adom. But somehow she thought Jian knew. Jian’s eyes were sad. His jaw clenched. She saw him grinding his teeth as though he were trying to hold his tongue.

  What was he not telling her? It couldn’t be that Emet and Adom no longer wanted her. Could it? She’d seen the desire in Emet’s eyes when he asked, practically begged, her to stay. She’d felt it in Adom’s touch, saw it in the lines and colors he painted on the canvas. Without looking down, her fingers traced the markings on her wrist again.

  “I don’t understand,” she said.

  Jian reached for her, but then stayed his hand before touching her wrist. His eyes lingered there, his lips pursed in censure.

  “Lady Merlyn will be here soon. You should choose a different dress. Perhaps one that covers your arms.”

  Alyss crossed her arms over her chest, more to protect the artwork on them than to protect herself.

  “Where is my daughter!”

  Alyss recoiled at the sound of her Mother’s voice. Her eyes whipped to Jian in betrayal. But he wasn’t looking at her. Jian blocked her with his body. She got the impression it was a protective move. Emet must have told him what transpired the other day. But still her Mother spied her from the bottom of the staircase. A harried male servant stood behind her.

  Lady Angyla’s eyes swept the scene before her. Her eyes locked on Jian. “You stayed in this house last night? A house full of murderers and sex criminals?”

  Alyss moved past Jian. She started down the steps. When she got to the bottom, she held up her hands to her mother to stop her tirade. Her mother’s eyes went wide. She grabbed Alyss’ arm and gaped. Alyss cried out at the pain of her Mother’s grip.

  “What have you done to my daughter?” Fury etched lines into Angyla’s eyes.

  “He did nothing to me,” Alyss wrenched her arm back.

  “Did he tie you up and hold you against your will? I’ll have you arrested, you pervert.”

  Arrested? For the ropes? Why would…?

  Alyss looked at her Mother. Disgust weighed down her frowning lips. Had she ever seen this woman smile? Had her Mother ever known the pleasure of release? Had she ever trusted another living being enough to give up control?

  “It is unlawful for any man to harm a woman in any way. This,” Lady Angyla held up Alyss’ wrists for proof, “is a capital offense, punishable by death.”

  A person who’d never felt the pleasure of the ropes on their skin, the release the tension brought, they would see the art as harmful. Her Mother couldn’t see art or pleasure. There was nothing Alyss could say to make her understand. She wrenched her arm out of her Mother’s controlling grasp.

  “Mother, Jian never laid a hand on me. I am here of my own free will. Lady Chanyn took me i
n after you kicked me out.”

  “I did no such thing. You have always had a flare for drama.”

  “I have a strike against my face, that evidence remains of your offense.” Alyss turned her check so her Mother could see her fading handiwork. “It may not be a capitol offense for a woman to strike another woman, but would you really want the spectacle of it aired out in the public as you go about corralling triads into your clinic for the insemination trials. A Mother who beats her own daughter handling the conception of their child?”

  Throughout Alyss’ entire speech, her Mother took steps away from her. A tremor went through the older woman’s hand as though she wished she could strike out once more to silence her daughter. But then a howl of pain erupted down the hall. Jian dashed past them toward the call of distress. Alyss followed in his wake.

  They found Chanyn leaning a against a wall. Her body doubled over as she grasped her belly. A puddle of water pooled at her feet.

  “The baby,” Chanyn panted. “She’s coming.”

  Jian reached his wife and placed his arms around her. “Lady Merlyn is already on her way, my love.”

  “There’s no time.” Angyla came before Chanyn.

  Chanyn jerked away. “Don’t touch me. I don’t want you. I don’t want you in my home.”

  “If you want this babe delivered then you need me. You don’t have time to wait. Your water is broken. The babe needs to come out now. I don’t care for you either, niece. But a child’s a child. A female child, anyway.”

  They moved Chanyn to one of the ground floor guest bedrooms. Lady Angyla set to work on the delivery. Alyss proved next to useless as she held sterile towels for her Mother. Angyla insisted the males be put out of doors, that they had no place in a birthing room. Both Khial and Jian refused. They took sentry on either side of their wife, holding her hand, whipping her sweat, whispering words of love and encouragement.

  Though she hadn’t attended a birth before, Alyss knew that laboring was hard. She watched in part horror, part awe, as the child struggled to break free of its Mother’s womb. The baby girl came into the world kicking, screaming, and punching the air. The moment she came to rest in Chanyn’s open arms, the child settled.