by Moira Sutton
“Beloved,” he said, repeating Zoa’s words. “You come into the Lady’s power to be bound to the Lady’s service. A bond of love, desire, and protection as deep and abiding as the earth itself. Is this what you wish?”
“Yes,” Izar said again, more steadily this time.
Zoa looked at Jeric, and then they held out their hands in unison, each taking hold of one of Izar’s shoulders. “The bond begins with trust,” they said together. “Do you trust us with your life, Horace Izar, Captain of the Fifth Legion?”
Izar smiled as they said his given name. “With my life,” he answered.
“Then let it begin,” Zoa and Jeric said in unison, pulling Izar gently to them.
In another god’s service, there would have been more words. A sacrifice, perhaps, or poured libations. But this was Dezira’s rite, a ceremony of deep, binding magic by the will of the Goddess of Desire, and it was performed in fitting fashion.
Zoa and Jeric worked together, removing Izar’s robe and casting it aside, along with their own. He was fully erect already, his eyes wild with the intense desire from the deep, pulsing magic of the place and the spells Zoa and Jeric had woven. Zoa smiled wickedly and reached out with her power, fanning the desire, and the magic, stronger and hotter until Izar was panting before them. As she did this, Jeric stepped behind Izar, running his hands across the captain’s tanned, muscled body. Izar moaned at the soft contact, his member jerking. Zoa just grinned and fanned the flames higher. And then, just when Izar looked ready to go mad, she reached out and touched him.
A moan went through all three of them. As he had been touching Izar, Jeric had also been weaving his power across the captain’s body. Now Zoa did the same, stroking her fingers across his hard chest down the rippling muscles of his abdomen. By the time her hand met Jeric’s at the gentle dip of Izar’s hips, the captain was gasping.
Zoa wasn’t much better. She’d touched her lovers uncountable times over the weeks they’d been together, but never like this. She and Jeric were no longer touching as lovers They were the Chosen of Dezira, Avatars of Desire, and Izar was at the center as they wove the spells through his body, tying themselves indelibly to his soul, his lust, his desire and his heart, marking him as their own just as Dezira had marked them.
Finally, Zoa and Jeric’s trailing fingers reached out to grab Izar’s rock-hard cock. They touched him together and Izar jerked so hard he nearly fell. Jeric caught him before anything could happen, slowly lowering the captain to his knees on the white cushion while Zoa followed him down. She took his cock in both hands, feeling his lust like it was her own, a torrent of power running through her. She accepted it openly, weaving her essence into and around it until they were tied so tight she could feel Jeric’s hands on Izar’s skin like they were caressing her own. The pleasure of it was making her dizzy, but Zoa did not let herself waver. Instead, she bent down slowly and, her tongue curling like a flower, licked the head of Izar’s cock.
The motion sealed off the first part of the ritual. She was so tied to Izar now she could feel the pleasure her tongue gave him like it was her own, and she moaned with him, using his pleasure as a guide as she slid her mouth down his shaft as far as she could. When she was fully wrapped around him, she began to move, sliding her slick mouth up and down Izar’s cock, her tongue following the signals his pleasure gave her as she pressed it against the underside of his length. Above her, Jeric began the next part of the ritual, kissing Izar slowly and passionately as his magic broke over them both.
The first act had been to bind Izar to them, weaving themselves through his body, through the first flush of arousal when Dezira’s power was strongest in him. Now Jeric began the rite that would protect Izar in their name. Through the burning link of their woven magic, Zoa could feel Jeric’s tongue in Izar’s mouth, and with it, she felt the warm, comforting wash of Jeric’s magic as the white barrier of his protection, his love for both of them, settled into the captain’s skin, blood and bone. The strong magic glittered in the warm air like snow, pure white and radiant. The moon on Jeric’s forehead was shining like a torch now, and Zoa knew hers was the same. The magic hummed in her bones and set her blood on fire, a beautiful burning that brought intense pleasure rather than pain.
As the protection took root, Izar’s joy and lust flooded them both. The rush was far more intense than Zoa had prepared for, but what really took her by surprise was the strength of Izar’s desire. From the look on Jeric’s face, Zoa knew he felt it too, and then the Chosen broke his kiss with Izar and straightened up. The captain looked completely dazed now, but his desire had been crystal clear, and, grinning wide, Jeric gave it to him, lifting his own, rock-hard cock and sliding it into Izar’s mouth.
The captain’s pleasure hit them both like a hammer and Izar rocked to life. Suddenly, he was no longer passive. His arms shot up, grabbing Jeric’s hips as he took his former lieutenant’s cock deep into his mouth, sucking and licking with wild abandon. Through their link, Zoa could feel both men’s pleasure, and her own came just as wildly as Izar broke his hold on Jeric to slide his fingers through her hair to grasp her scalp, urging her faster. Zoa obliged, sucking him as he sucked Jeric, matching motion for motion until they were all dangerously close.
But before they could come, both Chosen pulled away. Izar cried out at the loss, but wild as Zoa and Jeric might be, they both understood that this was the crucial moment, the final act of pleasure that would set their bond for good, forever.
“Izar,” Zoa said, reaching up to catch the captain’s head in her hands. “What do you desire?”
“Tell us,” Jeric said. “Tell us and set the bond.”
“You,” Izar panted, his eyes flashing wildly between them. “Gods, I want you.”
As he spoke, his desire flashed clearly through their minds and Zoa and Jeric obeyed.
Jeric stood again, walking over to stand beside Izar, his hard cock hovering inches away from Izar’s greedy lips, just like before. As he moved, Zoa turned and got on all fours in front of the captain, her dripping entrance pressed up against him. Izar moaned when he realized what was being offered, and then, with a gasp that was as great a prayer to Dezira as any ever uttered, he took his desire.
His cock slammed into Zoa, making her gasp with delight as the rock-hard length filled her from behind. At the same time, Izar’s mouth latched onto Jeric’s cock. Then, with one hand wrapped around Jeric’s hips and one hand on Zoa’s, Izar began to thrust, sucking Jeric’s cock as he did.
Connected to them both, there was no stopping the wildfire of pleasure, lust and desire that flooded through them all. Sparked by their own intense connection, fanned by magic and set by the will of Dezira’s Chosen, the tide of lust and love rose higher and higher, wilder and wilder, until it filled the garden, filled the temple, filled all three of them to bursting. And then, when the magic between them was shining like white phosphorus, Izar came with a shout and a burst of pleasure so intense, he pulled his lovers over with him.
Zoa screamed as Izar’s orgasm took her, pulling pleasure from her body with such force she felt like she’d been broken and remade. Jeric came with a deeper cry, spilling himself into Izar’s mouth. But it was Izar who was hit hardest of all. He came in great shudders, his body hard as stone as the pleasure made him clench again and again. On and on it went, the magic pounding over them like storm surge. The strength of it was so intense that Zoa came again almost before her first orgasm had ended. Above her, the intensity of it dropped Jeric to his knees, and he wrapped his shaking arms around her and Izar as the magic roared and roared until, at last, it began to fade.
The three of them collapsed onto the white cushion on the altar. The powerful magic had ripped apart all other spells, including Zoa’s warming charm, and the chill winter wind blew free again over their bare skin. It scarcely mattered. Zoa didn’t think she would ever be cold again after that much heat. They lay in a heap with Izar panting in the middle, Jeric and Zoa pulled tight against him on eith
er side. His eyes were closed and his face was strained, but when he finally look at them, there was no name for the expression on his face.
“That was…” His voice trailed off as he squeezed his eyes shut again, pulling them both closer. “I don’t think words exist that can describe that.”
“It was a divine thing,” Jeric whispered, kissing his captain on the shoulder. “Words usually don’t do them justice.”
“I can feel you both,” Izar muttered, running his hands along their backs. “Like you’re my own skin.”
“The sensitivity will fade in time,” Zoa said. “But you’ll always feel us now, and the closer we are, the stronger it will be. You’ll also always know exactly where we are anywhere in the world, and you will be nearly as protected as the Chosen themselves against Toric’s lust, or any other divine gift.”
Izar took a deep breath. “You know, I almost don’t care about any of that right now,” he said softly. “All I know is that I’ve got you both at last and I am never, ever letting you go. Especially not after an orgasm like that.” He kissed them both. “I’m spoiled forever, you know that.”
“Good,” Zoa said, kissing him back. “Because you’ve spoiled us as well.”
“Nothing for it,” Jeric added. “We’ll just have to stick together.”
Izar sighed in contentment, running his hands over both his lovers as they watched the clouds drift overhead. They lay like that for almost an hour before reality forced them to leave the happy cocoon of their tangled arms and prepare for the night’s bitter work.
Chapter Five
Eight hours later, a palanquin bearing the twin crescents of Dezira’s Chosen came to a stop outside the wall of Toric Vallus’ city palace. The gate guards, a full ten-squad of southern mercenaries, put their hands on their weapons, but dropped them just as quickly when the acolytes helped a woman step down to the street. She was covered head to toe in a cloak, but her lovely face was lit by the white moon glowing bright on her forehead. The guards gasped at the sight and hurried to make themselves helpful. Their master had warned them to keep an eye out for black moons, but a white moon woman was no threat. This certainty settled so firmly in their minds, along with a healthy surge of lust, that they were practically falling over themselves to see what the lady wanted.
Zoa smiled at the fawning men and twisted the spell a little tighter. “I’m here on the Temple’s business,” she said. “Take me to see Toric.”
Fear flashed in the guards’ eyes, but Zoa gently nudged the cloud of lust and trust she’d laid over them until the uncertainty vanished. The guards argued a moment over who got the honor of escorting her, and then two men broke off from the group to open the heavy wooden gate, holding it wide as Zoa stepped through.
It was like stepping into another world. She felt the barrier shiver against her skin as she stepped over the gate’s threshold and the power of it made her tremble. Even though she knew it was built against Silas and not her, Zoa could sense the strength behind it, the great magic of her goddess, and suddenly she felt the full impact of what she was about to do. She nearly turned back then, but as her feet hesitated, she remembered Jeric and Izar sitting with her on her bed as they made the plan. Their part was far more dangerous than hers, she had no right to turn coward before she was even through the door.
Holding that thought in her mind, Zoa squared her shoulders and marched through the gate. The palace itself was surrounded by a large garden, a great luxury in the crowded city. Flowers and fig trees bloomed in abundance and large fountains waited at every turn, their pure water burbling in the quiet night air of the secured Royal Quarter. Above the lush trees, Toric’s palace rose in magnificent splendor. A great and beautiful building of wood and stone filled with balconies and wide windows, but only on the upper floors. The lower floors had no windows at all, not even barred ones.
There were no lanterns on the walls either, and Zoa was glad of the guards to lead her down the dark path. They ended at a wide, elegant door, the only entrance to the palace Zoa saw, guarded by yet another set of soldiers. One look told her these men were not mercenaries. Their fine armor was unmarked, but Zoa knew it very well. It was the same armor the guards who had taken her and Mina had worn, the dress of Toric’s personal guard.
Toric’s power had been growing with every step she’d taken toward his palace. Here at the door, Zoa could feel it in the air like smoke, melting the spell she’d cast over the gate guards. By the time Toric’s men asked them who she was, the mercenaries could only stutter as they tried to explain why they’d let a Chosen in despite a direct order to admit no one.
“You will admit me,” Zoa said, cutting the mercenaries off before they got themselves in trouble. She stepped up to Toric’s guards and pulled herself straight, holding her head high so they couldn’t miss the white moon glowing on her forehead. “I am Zoa, Chosen of Dezira, and your master will be very cross if you turn me away.”
She thought about adding a little magic to her words, but decided against it at the last minute. These guards were so steeped in Toric’s magic, she could almost see it on them. Breaking that long-held grasp would take more power than she would be wise to waste so early in the night. Instead, she relied on years of religious fear and instilled reverence of the Gods’ Chosen, glaring at the guards as they whispered to each other.
Finally, two guards broke off from the pack. They opened one of the enormous doors and waved for her to follow. The moment the door opened, the smell of incense and sex hit Zoa like a wall. It was so strong, she actually took a step back. The guards gave her a suspicious look, but Zoa just tossed her hood back and proudly stepped inside, shivering only slightly as the door shut behind her, the bar falling into place with a loud boom.
Zoa had been in several of the important city palaces over her five years as an Avatar of Dezira, enough to see that Toric’s wasn’t too different from most. It had the same basic layout, an entry room and hallway going around a small courtyard with a fountain, two sets of stairs leading up and another, far larger hall leading back into the banquet rooms. As expected from a member of the Vallus family, everything from the tiny tiles on the floor to the carved rafters was extravagant and expensive, but where most rich houses covered every available surface with lamps to be sure no one missed so much as an inch of their fabulous home, Toric’s house was almost too dark to navigate. There were no lamps in the entry or the hall, and were it not for the guard’s small lantern, Zoa would have lost her way completely. As it was, she had to watch her feet to make sure she didn’t stumble.
The deeper into the house they went, the stronger the smell of sex became. It reminded Zoa of her time at Rosa’s, but this was richer, a deep, sensuous, overpowering smell laced with the incense of Dezira’s temples. Ritual sex, then, and lots of it.
Zoa set her jaw. The temple used large sex rituals regularly. It was how they cast some of their biggest spells, but the power was split between many Avatars. From the feel of the energy in the hall, Toric was using every bit of this magic himself and had been for a very long time. That shouldn’t have surprised her. Toric’s orgies were famous, after all. But hearing about it and feeling the proof for herself were very different things, and by the time the guards opened the large door at the end of the hall, Zoa was shaking like a windblown flame.
As expected, the hall led into an enormous banquet hall, but banquets were no longer the room’s purpose. It was bare of furniture except for the heavy incense braziers burning along the walls, their low flames and the moonlight streaming through the high windows the only light in the room. The floor was strewn with cushions, and on them, men and women writhed in an enormous pit of sex.
There had to be a hundred people at least, all young, fit and beautiful. This was no orgy for old, powerful men like some she’d seen in palaces before, but a ritual of power thrown for Dezira’s sake. The energy rising from the tangled bodies was so strong, Zoa could have put the whole city into a frenzy of lust with it, but though t
he power trembled around her, she couldn’t touch it. Every bit of it, every moan, every thrust, every lustful thought from the sea of people was held tight by the great, black presence on the dais at the far end of the hall.
Toric sat on a great, black painted throne, surveying the orgy below through heavy-lidded eyes. The dark moon was plain on his forehead and power clung to him like a cloud, rising up toward the roof in a great column to feed a spell so large Zoa couldn’t begin to comprehend it. There was a naked girl on his lap, a lovely young thing with thick golden hair. She was writhing against him with impressive abandon, sliding her supple body across his bare chest with an intensity that was almost desperate. But Toric didn’t even seem to notice her. His eyes were only for Zoa as the guards led her through down the pathway that split the orgy in two.
Zoa kept her eyes on him as well, looking down only when she had to to avoid stepping on an amorous couple or trio. Even when she didn’t quite make it, no one seemed to notice. The men and women cared for nothing but each other. If the building had been on fire, Zoa didn’t think they’d do anything except go right on as they were. They were slaves to Toric’s lust, which hung in the air even thicker than the clouds of incense, and if she hadn’t been Dezira’s Chosen, Zoa would have been right down there with them. But she was protected, marked as the Moon’s Own, and she held that power around her, the moon on her forehead flaring brighter than ever as she climbed the dais stairs.
When she reached the top, the guards tried to stop her, but she pushed right by them, coming to stand before Toric’s throne. He stared at her, his eyes hard and dark as obsidian, and then he stood without warning, sending the girl in his lap tumbling to the ground. She squealed in surprise when she hit, but Toric just stepped over her, stalking toward Zoa like a panther. He stopped right in front of her, looking at her with those hard, cold eyes. Though it shamed her, Zoa’s breath caught. He was dressed as he had been when she’d first been brought before him, shirtless with his powerful legs encased in dark leather trousers and his feet in heavy, crushing boots. He looked at her for a long moment, blinking almost like he doubted her reality, and then his thin, sensual lips curled into a cruel, cruel smile.