Hers to Captivate

by Patricia A. Knight

  “Tristan…” Magellan’s voice snarled a warning.

  “Relax. You’ll both survive. You’ll even enjoy it—in the beginning.” He chuckled softly and walked over to the bedside table, pulling open the zips on his synth-leather top and shrugging out of it.

  “Sir. Your chest.” Angelica examined his torso for a moment, her gaze containing nothing but professional detachment.

  He scratched the diagonal red welt scoring his chest and abdomen and shivered at the pleasure. Little remained of the deep gash, but what did itched furiously. “It’s fine, Doc. Whatever was in that healing accelerant is powerful stuff. Now, you asked what an Oshtesh husband’s kit was.”

  Tris smiled at her as he removed three small cylinders of fibrous organic matter, a small jar and a fine brush from the wood box. “The Oshtesh inhabit the only arid part of our green world. Their harsh environment produces autonomous women who live segregated from men. Until the pleasures of carnal relations are established, it’s not uncommon for such women to lack interest in sex. A husband’s kit contains items which create and maintain arousal in an indifferent spouse.”

  He freed the lacing on the front of his form-hugging pants and skinnied out of them, stopping to toe off his boots. The buttery-soft animal hide offered greater protection than fabricated material, but removing them with any degree of grace posed a challenge. He wanted to groan with relief when his cock sprang free. Angry red marks from the lacing scored the rigidly upright, thick stalk of his erection. He knelt on the bed between Angelica’s spread legs and addressed Mage over his shoulder. “Are her nipples sensitive?”

  “Very, and she likes pain play.”

  Tris leaned forward on all fours and sucked one of the tempting raspberry buds into his mouth. He held the sweet nub in his front teeth and pulled.

  “Ah!” Angelica arched her back and bit her lower lip, choking back a soft grunt. The fucking column of stone between his legs wagged in approval at her response and his balls became twin knots of pain. Hot wetness rolled in a maddening tickle down the flare of his cock head. He did his best to ignore it.

  As his teeth continued to pull, he flicked the tip of her right nipple with his tongue and gently shook his head. Mewls of appreciation met his ears. When he glanced at her face, her eyes gazed unseeing. She drew air through her nose in heavy inhales. He alternated pulling and flicking with strong sucking until her hips writhed on the bed and her legs sought to wrap his hips and bring her pelvis closer to a cock that begged the freedom to split her in half. That he wouldn’t allow—not yet.

  He popped her nipple from his mouth and sat back on his heels. His shaft and balls had taken on an excruciating life of their own and protested the cramped position. Keeping his voice detached and steady required more effort than he cared to admit. “Put your legs down, Angelica. Keep them flat on the bed and spread as wide as you can. I’ll attend to the ache between them later.”When I attend to the fucking agony between mine.

  “Yes, Dominus.” She arched her back and presented her breasts to him in flagrant invitation.

  He held her gaze with a half-smile. “I like the sound of your cries. Don’t hold them back.”

  He resumed the torture of her right breast. When her vocalizations sounded more of pain then pleasure, he turned to the left nipple and gave it the same treatment. By the time he stopped, Angelica was on the verge of sobbing and both nipples protruded an angrily swollen half-inch. He placed the fleshy pad of his forefinger ever so gently against the very tip of a scarlet bud and prescribed a delicate circle.

  She wept softly, shook her knees as if to mitigate the stimulation and whispered a desperate, “Please, Sir, fuck me. I burn.”

  “Can you orgasm simply from breast stimulation?”

  Drenched violet eyes found his and she nodded while Mage’s hoarse voice contributed, “Yes, but she’ll want more.”

  Tris reached for one of the fibrous cylinders he’d taken from Mage’s wooden box and popped it in his mouth. After thoroughly moistening it, he grasped Angelica’s right breast firmly and slid the cylinder onto the hyper-extended nipple. He did the same to the left and then inspected his work. The tiny circles of fibrous matter wrapped each nipple snuggly from base to within a fraction of the tip. “Good. Now for the paste.”

  He twisted the lid off the small jar. An herbal tang with the hint of a peppery overtone permeated the air. He dipped the small brush into the cream and painted a thin layer of the fragrant mixture over Angelica’s areolae, the fibrous nipple wraps and the exposed tip of her nipples. He placed the brush on the table, screwed the lid back on the small jar and then sat back and waited. It didn’t take long.

  “Sir, my nipples, the cream… oh! It itches… tingles. Gah!” She dropped her head back and her upper body undulated while her hands jerked on her bonds as she attempted to rub her breasts. “Please! Touch me. Make it stop.”

  Her pleas tapered off into a sob when she saw the slow shake of his head. He was a sadistic bastard. Her anguish fucking did it for him, but Angelica got off on it, too. She hadn’t used her safe word and her legs squeezed his thighs in abortive attempts to assuage what he suspected was a desperately needy pussy.

  “The intensity of the sensation caused by the cream will fade somewhat… unless I reapply it. The nipple wraps stay on. Unlike clamps, this organic material won’t interfere with circulation, so we can keep your sweet little nips hypersensitive for as long as needed.”

  He reached out and stroked her cheek. “Is it difficult to think over the arousal?”

  She gasped a breathy, “Yes, Sir.”

  “Good.” He smiled. “Let’s make it impossible.” Tris silently cursed his throbbing cock as he lay on his stomach between Angelica’s thighs. He didn’t know how much longer he could stand the titillation before slamming into her wetness for what he knew would be a mind-altering orgasm. The quiet, vulgar epithets from the man behind him served to center him, though, reminding Tris of his ultimate goal. His thumbs spread the doctor’s labia wide, stretching it apart until the small pink nub of her clitoris peeked from beneath its hood. He locked his mouth around it and sucked hard.

  Angelica screamed. Her heels dug in and she attempted to lift from the bed, a futile effort. He was vastly stronger, bigger and heavier than she was, and he held her down until her cries took on a frantic quality that told him scant moments separated her from climax. He sat up and popped the third fibrous cylinder into his mouth as her cries of,“Don’t stop! Don’t stop! Please, Sir,” gusted past her lips.

  He waited a moment until she ceased her pleas, until her gaze sought his, beseeching in silent anguish. He smiled slightly, snuggled back between her thighs and held her motionless as he sucked her tortured clit into the third cylinder.

  “No, no, no!” she begged when she realized his intent. Then silence. Her eyes rolled wildly and her head thrashed back and forth at the sensations he knew she felt as the plant material wrapped her elongated clit in a tight clamp—all but the very tip. He flicked the scarlet dot with the end of his tongue and Angelica bucked wildly under him.

  “I’m going to come. I’m going to…”

  At her first words, Tris pinched her clit viciously. Her scream echoed off the walls, and she subsided in writhing whimpers. Behind him, he heard the sound of Mage testing his bonds and growling. Tris straightened. He grabbed Angelica’s cheeks and forced her to look at him. His fingers dented her soft flesh. He felt only a small pang at her patent distress. If she truly suffered, she held the power to end it immediately. “Did you come?” he demanded.

  “No, no,” she choked. Tears trembled on the edges of her heavily lashed eyelids.

  Tris jerked the ties on her cuffs loose, freeing her hands. “Get on your hands and knees facing Mage and don’t move.” Her shaking hands crept toward her breasts. He swatted them away. Her nipples must be in torment for her to risk such an action. “Stop it. You know better. On your hands and knees, and spread those legs wide.”

  She whimp
ered a soft, “Yes, Sir,” and complied.

  He swung his legs off the bed and rummaged again in the drawer at its foot. He closed his hand on a square plex-glass box with a smile of satisfaction. Flipping the catch, he removed a metallic patch and a small disc on a loop of cord from the interior. Mage watched him intently and then his stance straightened.

  “Tristan…”

  Tris ignored him.

  “Tristan!” Mage snapped. Tristan’s gaze lifted to hold the captain’s green-eyed stare. “Don’t do that to her.” Mage shook his head. “Don’t.”

  “It’s not for her.” Tristan’s smile was evil. He didn’t care. He held the silver patch between two fingers and wagged it back and forth. “You have a safe word. Use it or shut up.” Mage snarled at him but said nothing until Tris moved behind him and smoothed the silver oval firmly into the base of Magellan’s spine right between the cheeks of his round, beautifully muscled ass. Then that gorgeous specimen of manhood jerked violently on his cuffs and growled an assortment of vulgarities that even Tris conceded were unique. He’d listened carefully. Conspicuously absent was the word “Revertar.”

  By the Goddess, didlife get any better? Two glorious bodies who enjoyed his sadistic play. Tris slipped the cord for the activator over his head.

  “Why? Why the neuro-blocker?” Angelica asked him between pants.

  “You recognize it. You’ve probably used it to moderate severe pain, control seizures, that sort of thing. A more exotic use is to inhibit orgasm. I calibrated this unit to allow stimulation right up to the threshold of climax. Then it blocks all feeling until the nerve synapses fire more slowly. I tested it on myself. It’s… agonizingly… effective.” Tristan’s lips quirked up in a crooked smile. “Our young captain will want to come—over and over and over again. He simply won’t be able to.”

  ***

  Tristan’s slow drawl painted a graphic picture of torturous frustration. Submerged in a deluge of arousal, Angelica stumbled processing Tristan’s words. Granted, with the riot of sensation in her nipples and clit, the demanding need of her pussy, he could have recited the alphabet and she’d have difficulty tracking, but…

  Tristan made a show of activating the neuro-blocker. When the neuro-blocker sank slivers of synaptic conduit into a person’s spine it stung. In front of her face, Mage jerked on his bonds, his biceps bulging as he strained against them. The sounds of his guttural curses and the carabineers clashing with the rings filled the room, and then he lapsed into brooding silence. His engorged cock spasmed an inch from her nose.

  She raised her head to look at Tris over her shoulder and her breasts jiggled. Insane feeling lanced from her pulsing nipples to her tightly bound and throbbing clit. She tucked and clenched her buttocks in an attempt to quiet the clamor of her feminine flesh and shook with the need to come. Each tremor added more fuel to the blaze between her legs.

  “Mage will be in hell. Why?”

  Tristan turned his face to study Mage. Thankfulness lanced through her that Tris didn’t direct the violence evident on his face at her. “Don’t worry about him. He’s all too familiar with “O” denial from our magickal training. As I recall, Mistress Clare spent extra time on him. She couldn’t resist. The sight of the delicious young Magellan suffering exceeded all expectations.”

  Mage jerked his head up, his gaze a furious green fire. “He’s angry with me, Angel. I’ve forced him to march to my orders and this is payback.” The exchange of heated stares between the two men shimmered in the air. “Just one thing, Tris.”

  Her bodyguard jerked his head and growled, “What.”

  “Don’t hurt her because of it.”

  Tris trapped her in a molten silver gaze, and for the first time his manner softened. On all fours, she trembled from the onslaught of outrageous sensation, but his tender caress on her cheek pushed all to the background for a few seconds.

  “No. I’d never abuse such a beautiful, delicate creature.” He leaned in, cupped her face and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. “Don’t let me go too far with you, pretty one. Remember, ‘Victor’,” he murmured.

  She pressed her face into his hand like an affectionate pet. His gentleness now, when he’d been so strident before, slew her. Attraction to this man struck her heart with fearful intensity. “Yes, Sir. I’ll remember.”

  “Good girl.” He pulled away and his expression hardened once more. “Hands behind you, crossed at the wrists. The bed dipped behind her. Tristan’s broad hand wrapped both her wrists, holding her balanced as he settled between her legs. A hard pull on her hair lifted her chin and he wound his hand in the hair at the nape of her neck. The outside of his thighs knocked her knees wider. His cock taunted the flesh at her entrance. She whispered a frantic, “Please. Please, Sir. Take me.”

  To her unutterable gratification, the broad head of his shaft split her flesh and rammed home in a stunning detonation of brutal sensation. His cock impaled her. Her flesh stretched beyond comfort to accommodate him. Her abused nipples and clit vibrated from his impact and then from her gyrations as she bit off a scream and writhed in distress and gratification. He held his thick shaft motionless, hilted within her. With a low growl, she worked herself on the fleshy instrument that split her asunder, grinding in circles, reveling in the mixture of pain and carnal pleasure. The least hint of pressure on her oversensitive clit sent her spiraling toward climax. Orgasm undulated toward her with the same inexorable intent of a mummer, but rather than cower in fear she begged it to hurry.

  “That’s enough. Be still,” Tris snapped and released her wrists and hair. She face-planted on the bed. Her bound nipples smashed into the soft bedding, and the resulting pain sidetracked her impending climax. She gasped and shifted some weight onto her forearms. Tris grabbed her hips in a punishing grip that allowed no movement below the waist. “Take him. Take Mage in your mouth.”

  She raised her head. In a greedy slather of saliva, she stuffed Mage’s jerking cock as far into her mouth as she could without choking. Her hands wrapped the remaining inches of his satin flesh, adding the twisting rise and fall of her hands to the motions of her mouth as she voraciously sucked, hollow-cheeked, up and down on his erection, a mimicry of actions she desperately hoped for herself.

  “That’s it, baby. Ahhh! Fuck me with that pretty mouth.” For long seconds, Mage continued to whisper encouragement and then groaned. “Harder, harder, sweetheart, more… I need more. Ah… fuck!” The final words she understood were, “You’re a dead man, DeHelios,” then Mage lapsed into unintelligible snarls.

  Despite the distractions of her own need, she heard the agony in Magellan’s voice. His hard shaft jerked on her tongue and his testicles pulsed against her hand where it gripped the base of his shaft, but he hadn’t come. She redoubled her efforts, attempting to override the effects of the inhibitor. In rare instances it could be done. Mage arched into her and bellowed, “I’m going to fucking kill you, Tristan!”

  At the same time, Tristan fisted her hair and ripped her off Magellan. His other hand anchored her to hips that split her flesh apart and hammered into her softness with brutal intensity. She surrendered to the overwhelming sensation of Tristan’s driving cock. The bedroom rang with Tristan’s growls, Magellan’s curses and her helpless screams of, “Yes! Yes!”

  Between her legs, in her nipples and clit, the exploding sensation threatened to obliterate her physical being. Sounds vanished. Sight blanked. Only pure feeling remained as a cataclysmic eruption of pleasure destroyed her conscious mind.

  Chapter Eleven

  Awareness returned to Angelica slowly. A beatific smile blossomed on her face. She lay on her back unwilling to open her eyes for more than a blink. A plush fur throw cushioned her. Strong arms held her cuddled against a warm, hard body she identified as Tris. The nipple and clit wraps had disappeared, replaced by cool moist pads smelling of herbal balm. Tristan’s hand engulfed her mons and held a pad pressed to her angry clit. The flesh between her legs felt raw and bruised, but it too h
ad been treated with the same sweet-smelling salve. Her mouth, jaw and neck ached and she’d have sore shoulders in the morning. She felt thoroughly, gloriously, used.

  She opened her eyes to stare into the silver gaze of Tristan DeHelios and wanted to purr. What was it about these over-the-top, larger-than-life Verdantian men? She’d never felt such safety, belonging and intense physical satiation as she did in that moment. Even beyond that night with Mage. A wall of dominant male protection surrounded her. A soft chuckle escaped her mouth when she mentally compared Lord Ramsey, Tristan and Magellan to anyone who’d come before. There was no comparison. Even her so-called “master” on Vxloncia had been a mere poser.

  “Beauty awakes. And you laugh?” Tris said.

  Beguiled, she shook her head. “I don’t have the energy to explain. May I tell you later?”

  “Ummhmm.” Tristan leaned down and kissed her, his lips lingering on hers in soft seduction. His tongue traced the seam of her mouth and she opened to let him in, but he ended the kiss and pulled back to examine her face. “Tell me. Do you hurt anywhere other than the expected places?”

  True concern shaded his face. She dropped her eyes and tentatively ran her fingers through the sandy curls on his chest. “I’m fine, Dominus.” She raised her head and graced him with a soft smile. “In fact, I can’t remember when I’ve been better.”

  “Mmm,” he hummed under his breath. “And I can’t remember a woman I’ve desired more. I understand Mage’s refusal to give you up.”

  She’d no comparison for the flood of happiness his words released. She was done resisting the rogue. Unguarded admiration and some feeling she couldn’t identify colored his expression. A yearning rose in her to see a different emotion on his face, to see some of the sentiment that flavored her interactions with Mage.

  Like Magellan, Tris would be easy to love. She’d been so wrong about him. His teasing bedevilment of her in day-to-day life masked a man perceptive and gruffly kind. He’d demonstrated he could protect her. Add sexual mastery packaged in a wicked body and a too-handsome face, and, dear god, she found him… captivating. Oh, but she was a greedy, greedy woman. With wary honesty, Angelica acknowledged she wanted love—from both of these men.