Dark Harvest

by Anitra Lynn McLeod

  His mind went blank. He’d already said he was sorry and he swore not to do it again. What more did she need from him?

  She drew a sharp breath, then let it out slowly. “You don’t have to say it back.” Fresh tears slid down her face to splatter his chest.

  What an idiot he was. “Oh, Kasmiri, I—”

  “Please don’t say it, not now. Not when it’s like I made you.” She wiped her tears away, then nestled a little closer against him, tucking her head down so the top of her head touched the center of his chest. “Tell me when you’re ready.”

  That stung. If only he’d left her alone, she would have told him when she was ready, not when he’d forced it out of her.

  As she fell asleep, he thought about loving her. Did he truly love her, or was he going to say it because she had? In his village, he’d told many women he loved them as part of the moment. It was meaningless, an automatic response to their words. Only once, when he was very young, had he thought he was in love. Sex with Valse, the baker’s wife, was different from sex with the other women in his village.

  Sterlave never told Valse he loved her because she hadn’t said it first, but he’d felt it, and he trusted her enough to tell her his longing to have her wear her shoes while they were in bed. To this day, memories of her mocking laughter still caused his testicles to retract into his body. How viciously would she have mocked him if he had said he loved her?

  Love was dangerous. His mother died for love. His father abused him out of love. What if he gave his heart to Kasmiri and she only stomped on it and kicked it back at him? Wincing, he wondered how he could even question her reaction after what he’d done when she gave her heart to him. His mind worried at the questions like a poor man worried at a bone.

  Sleep was a long time in coming.

  Sterlave woke on his back with Kasmiri straddled across his chest. In her hand, she held a small bowl. He didn’t have to look to know she’d bound his arms and legs, because the weight of the fur-lined cuffs pressed into his wrists and ankles.

  Revenge?

  He peered up at her serene face. All traces of her tears were gone. This morning her eyes were bright, her smile gentle.

  Playfully, she pulled something out of the bowl, then held it close to his mouth. One breath told him it was sugar-drenched nicla. When he parted his lips, she popped the treat inside. Sweet and tangy, the smooth-skinned fruit slid against his tongue. Chewing slowly, he let his gaze slide down to where her sweet and tangy cunny pressed against his chest.

  “The treat was nice, but you taste better.”

  With a pert smile, she offered him another piece, which he ate. Several times she repeated the motions. He started to wonder if she was planning to feed him his entire meal this way. Above them, the glass ceiling revealed only the barest blush of morning light.

  Kasmiri placed a piece between her lips, then leaned over, offering the nicla to him. After he swallowed it, she slipped her tongue into his mouth, tasting him, the fruit. She fell into the kiss, so much so that she set the bowl aside. Cupping his face, she deepened the contact. Using her lips, teeth, and tongue, she made love to his mouth. Never had anyone kissed him so thoroughly. When she pulled back, he lifted up, trying to follow her, but his bonds held him securely.

  Her expression was one of soft arousal. Her nipples peaked, her body thrummed, and he could feel how slick her sex was since she created a wet spot against his chest.

  Leery of her magnanimous behavior, he settled back, waiting for the moment when she extended her claws.

  He didn’t have to wait long.

  Tossing her midnight hair over her shoulder, she climbed gracefully to her feet. Standing over him, she glared down into his face.

  “Did you enjoy your treat?”

  He tried to keep his attention on her face, but his gaze slid down to the sweet secrets between her thighs. With her legs spread, he had a pretty good view.

  “I asked you a question.” She placed her foot on his chest and her hands on her hips. Now she was all commanding female. Fire blazed in her eyes; her body glowed with power. Oil slicked along her flesh, showing off her sleek, yet powerful form. Against his will, blood surged his cock to painfully hard.

  “I enjoyed my treat,” he confirmed, holding her gaze. He had no idea Kasmiri harbored a dominating edge to her sexual appetite. It made a kind of sense, in that she was so authoritarian in her personal life, but to discover she wanted to dominate him sexually was as shocking as it was arousing. Perhaps her anger prompted her attitude, but that wasn’t what drove her to control him. She enjoyed bossing him about, but this was another layer to the act of tying him up. This wasn’t about controlling him physically; this was about controlling him mentally.

  Most men would have rebelled instantly. Never would they allow a woman that much power. Sterlave trusted her. She might be hurt at what he’d done, she might be sad he didn’t return her words of love, but all that allowed her to express her deepest, darkest, most dangerous desire. Kasmiri longed to dominate him.

  Pressing her foot down into his chest, she commanded his attention back to her face. “You’re going to do whatever I want.”

  Nodding didn’t satisfy her. She demanded he answer “yes, my lady” or “no, my lady” to her questions. He swore he would do whatever she wanted. The question was, what did she want?

  With a lift of her brows, she left the bed. Sterlave propped his head up, but he couldn’t see what she was doing. His heart started to race, causing his cock to bounce ever so slightly. One thing he knew for certain, Kasmiri would never bore him.

  She returned with a scrap of black fabric in her hands. As she climbed up the bed, he realized what it was.

  “Kasmiri, I’m not—”

  “Did I ask you a question?”

  “No, my lady.” He drew a deep breath and let it out slowly while she covered his eyes with the makeshift blindfold. Plunged into sudden darkness, he tried to relax with the deep breathing of kintana, but he could not center himself. He’d never been blindfolded. Losing his ability to see frightened him because he relied so heavily on his vision.

  When Kasmiri placed her hand on his chest, he flinched.

  Her laughter only added to his discomfort. He almost told her he didn’t want to do this, but he also didn’t want to ruin the moment. After what he’d done to her, he owed her something.

  Relying on his sense of sound and touch, he heard and felt her shift on the bed. He couldn’t use his sense of smell since all he could smell was the strong aroma of nicla. She climbed off and padded away. Waiting breathlessly, he forced air into and out of his lungs in an effort to calm himself. Just when he found a measure of peace, she returned. Her weight pulled the surface of the bed as she climbed between his widely spread legs.

  A series of clicks increased his anxiety. What was she doing? Sudden visions of her tormenting his cock and balls caused him to strain against the manacles. Was she really so angry that she would hurt him? Gods, what had he gotten himself into? When he heard humming, he had to still his breath to identify the source. At first, he thought Kasmiri was humming happily to herself, but then he realized whatever it was maintained a steady tone. Through the panic emerged a great arousing curiosity. Just what was she going to do to him?

  Suddenly, the humming stopped. Kasmiri left the bed again. He heard a door open and close. Sharply, Kasmiri shushed someone.

  Now his heart beat so fast he could feel it in his neck. She’d invited someone into the room! Who was with her, and what did they make of his bound form? Was it Rown? He shook his head. He couldn’t let her bring Rown into this, not after what he’d recently suffered.

  “Get on the bed between his legs,” Kasmiri said.

  Sterlave felt the bed dip below someone’s weight.

  “Put this on.”

  He wasn’t sure whom she was ordering, but then he felt the other person moving about.

  Lowering his voice to a bare whisper, Sterlave asked, “Rown?”


  “Did I tell you to speak?” Kasmiri’s voice boomed off the walls, coming at his ears from every direction.

  He flinched. From listening, he couldn’t tell exactly where she was. “No, my lady, but—”

  “You want to know who waits so patiently between your thighs.” Her voice seemed to be almost directly above him. “I don’t have to tell you, but I will tell you it isn’t Rown.”

  Right after he released a sigh of relief, he drew in another tense breath. If not Rown, then who? Curiosity was eating him up. He wanted to know not only who was there but also what they intended to do.

  “Lift your knees, Sterlave.” Kasmiri’s voice now came from the foot of the bed, as if she were directing him and the person kneeling.

  On the verge of refusing, he ultimately did as she bid. Resistance would only prolong the agony. Kasmiri would do as she pleased and he couldn’t resist. As he drew his knees up, the straps tightened, pulling his ankles out, spreading him wider.

  “Lift up.”

  When he did, someone slid a firm pillow under his ass. As he settled his weight upon it, he had a sneaking suspicion of what she was doing. She’d said she wanted to see him with another man. Sterlave was convinced that if he opened his eyes, he’d find one kneeling expectantly between his widely spaced thighs. But what man would take a part in kinky games with the empress and her consort? Perhaps another ungati? Kasmiri wouldn’t dare force someone to do this to him. Or would she?

  Gods, the suspense was killing him. As much as he just wanted to get this over with, he also wanted to extend the moment indefinitely. He wasn’t sure he was ready. It wasn’t rape, as he was willing, but was the other man willing too? That mattered a great deal to him. Sex should always bring pleasure to those involved. Moreover, he wanted to see Kasmiri’s reaction. What would she do while she watched another man work his prick into him? Would she touch herself until she climaxed? Would she straddle his face and make him tongue her to orgasm? His cock twitched with the thought.

  “Seems my captive is more than ready to begin.” Her lowered voice dripped sex and power. But still, he couldn’t tell where she was.

  Two hands settled on his feet, making him jump. Blindness amplified the contact. He thought he could feel each tiny ridge of his fingertips as he teased them between his toes. Short nails scratched up his calf, toying with his regrowing hair. Settling his grip behind his knee, he felt the man pull him forward, as if to put him into a better position for penetration. Sterlave tensed, pulling away from the direction he was being led into.

  “Don’t fight him.” Kasmiri warned.

  “Yes, my lady.” Sterlave deliberately relaxed and gave himself over to direction. Fighting would only make this uncomfortable. Since he had no choice in the matter, he decided to wring all the pleasure he could from this encounter. Would this feel as good as the wand Kasmiri used on him? That had blown his mind. The intensity of that orgasm left him damn near blind. Of course, that wouldn’t matter now, not with the black fabric over his eyes.

  Once the man had pulled him down a bit and adjusted the pillow, he slid his hands along the inside of Sterlave’s thighs. Pressing just enough to show he was in charge caused a strange thrill to coil tension in Sterlave’s gut. The man’s hands felt small but strong. When he reached close to his balls, Sterlave held his breath, waiting for the first contact, but it never came. Instead, the man teased his hands across his upper thighs, then around his hips. Soothing circles drew close to his throbbing penis but did not actually touch. So sensitive was his flesh he felt the heat of his hands when they drew near. Every time the man moved them away, he groaned with disappointment. Waiting for the moment when he would touch him there was excruciating. Picturing his hands upon his aching member caused another involuntary twitch.

  Kasmiri uttered a pleased moan.

  As the man worked his hands up his chest, Sterlave struggled to hold still. He wanted to lean into his caress. On the tip of his tongue danced the need to ask for harder touches, but he didn’t want to defy Kasmiri again. In truth, he was afraid if he did, she might stop this crazy, erotic, maddening game. He didn’t want this to end. Deep inside came a need to feel another man thrust into him, not for dominance as Loban had done, but to provide pleasure, as Rown and Kasmiri had done with the wand. Craving the adventure of doing something utterly different, something he would likely never do on his own, aroused him to a fever pitch. He literally felt blood flush across his skin.

  “I can tell that you want something,” Kasmiri whispered very close to his right ear. “You may speak this one time.”

  In a tumbling rush, he said, “Touch me harder, press more firmly, hard enough to hurt. Twist my nipples and bite—”

  “That’s enough,” she cut him off, then chuckled. “Didn’t you once call me a greedy yondie?” The question lingered for a moment, ratcheting up his tension. “Seems to me you’re the one with a long list of wants and needs.”

  One of them twisted his nipple, zinging a bolt of pleasure straight down to his cock. Must be the man since the nails were short. When he did it again, he thrust his hips and almost made contact with his body.

  “Hold still,” Kasmiri admonished, apparently not allowing the other man to speak at all.

  If he heard his voice, would he recognize it? What if he wasn’t a servant but one of the recruits? Or even one of her guards? What would she have promised him in exchange for this? Perhaps that’s why she blindfolded him; he couldn’t act oddly around this man if he didn’t know who he was. For some reason, he found that unbelievably freeing. No repercussions, no hurt feelings, no awkward exchanges. They would have this moment and then never have to worry about it again. The man would know he pleasured Sterlave, but he didn’t have to openly admit his part in this adventure. Would he forever after smile privately to himself when Sterlave passed him? Would Sterlave know who it was one day when he saw a certain flash in another man’s eye or the barest twist of a smile? What if Kasmiri blindfolded the man as well? Just the thought spurred another round of lusty thoughts and curious questions.

  Settling back on the pillow, Sterlave waited for the next teasing movement. After tweaking his nipples until he groaned low and deep in his chest, the man moved on to hard strokes along his ribs, his sides, and his shoulders. Pressing firmly caused friction, which, in turn, sent more heat to his genitals. Right now, his balls felt so hot and heavy he feared they would explode.

  The man settled his hands on either side of his hips, pressing him down into the pillow. He released and pressed him several times in quick succession, as if he were already pumping into him. His cock bounced, so taut with arousal it hurt with each quiver. In that moment, he wanted his shaft buried inside Kasmiri. How would it feel to have her snuggled around him while the man slammed deep into his ass? Imagining the scenario caused more surges of pleasure to ripple across his body. Everything gathered strength as it wrapped around his hips. Now he helped the man bounce him by adding his own thrusts.

  “That’s it. Rock your hips. Try desperately to find something to plunge your aching cock into.”

  Kasmiri’s breathless voice only added to his torment.

  Frantically, he humped the air but found no relief. When the man stopped bouncing him, he couldn’t help but growl. Now he didn’t even have the jiggling to offer some stimulation to his prick. He would have begged, but Kasmiri would only prolong his distress.

  He felt the bed give way under his feet and he imagined the man took a wide stance between his forcefully spread legs. Was this the moment? Would he finally feel the man’s cock sliding slowly up his ass, or would he plunge deep and fast?

  Anticipation caused him to pant in dire need. When he felt a silken touch to his cock he practically jumped out of his skin. One lone fingertip traced along the throbbing vein that ran from the base to just under the head. Unbelievably, he got even harder. So taut was his cock it truly ached. Deep down into his body he hurt. His balls, his prick, the whole region of his hips felt swollen with blo
od.

  The lone finger continued to trace along his shaft, then around the head, teasing around in smaller circles until it pressed against the weeping slit. Unable to hold back, he let loose a body-shaking moan and thrust his hips, forcing the finger to rub hard and fast down his length. Such a quick touch stimulated him strongly but wasn’t enough to soothe him.

  “I told you to hold still!” Kasmiri’s voice was directionless again.

  “Yes, my lady,” he responded between panting breaths. Pressure mounted as he waited for another touch. Something, anything would be better than nothing at all. Cool air wafted across his overheated body but failed to pacify him in any way. When he drew breath through his nose, all he could smell was the nicla Kasmiri fed him, which, in turn, made him think of her sweet sex over his mouth. If she were there right now, he’d tongue-fuck her every nook and cranny until she creamed all over his face. Such raunchy thoughts only made things worse.

  Turning his attention outward, he tried to slow his breath so he could hear them, but he couldn’t catch it for longer than a second. Time moved at an endless pace. How many hours did he lay still, straining, praying, and begging in his mind for Kasmiri to order the man to do what she’d brought him here to do?

  “Are you ready?”

  “Yes, my lady.” He practically screamed the words.

  Her laughter was gentle, a soothing caress to his ears before she whispered, “Trust me, this is worth waiting for.”

  Gods, did she mean to prolong this further? If she did, he wouldn’t last. A tentative touch between his cheeks caused him to inadvertently clench them tightly together.

  “Relax, I don’t want him to hurt you.”

  Gently, the oil-slick fingers worked their way around his ass, then pressed into his channel. He tried not to wiggle, but he did anyway. Probing fingers were a prefect prelude to what would follow. The pillow held him up but also tilted his hips slightly back, so the man had unfettered access to every sensitive spot, and he seemed to know just where to touch.