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by Evangeline Anderson


  “The patient comes first,” I said firmly. “Although I’ve never, uh, quite been in a situation like this with a patient.”

  “As I have never been with my mistress,” he admitted. “Is it helping you? You feel the burning ease? Your body seems much warmer than it was.”

  “It’s helping,” I said, wiggling a little. “Only…”

  “What is it? Name what you need and you shall have it, my Lady,” he murmured.

  Damn—I was really kind of getting to like the way he talked. Even if it was kind of Renaissance-y.

  “I feel like…” I took a deep breath. “I think it would help to have some pressure—deep pressure. Could you…I know this sounds weird, but could you, uh, lie on top of me for a minute? Kind of just…cover me completely with your…with your body?”

  Okay, now I was finally getting kind of embarrassed. But this was what my body craved for some reason. And I didn’t want to take a chance on the burning and breathlessness returning if I didn’t give it what it wanted.

  “As my Lady wishes,” Kristoff murmured.

  We had been lying on our sides, facing each other. With one swift move, he rolled me under him, covering my body completely with his own.

  I should have felt smothered. He was so much taller than me that his chest was in my face. And his weight was considerable—at least three hundred pounds, I estimated, all of it pure muscle—pressing me down into the bed.

  Strangely enough, despite his weight pressing me down, or maybe because of it, I was finally able to draw a deep breath and the last of the burning finally left my body.

  “Ahhh.” I gave a little moan of pure satisfaction.

  “My Lady?” Kristoff sounded a little worried. “Am I crushing you? I feel your pleasure in this new position but you’re so small…so delicate.”

  I started laughing again—I couldn’t help it.

  “Why are you amused?” Kristoff demanded. He changed our positions, moving down so that we were face to face though he was still lying on top of me.

  “Because.” I giggled. “I am not delicate. In fact, I’m what you could call ‘big boned’ if you were being nice, that is.”

  “Your bones are like those of a bird,” he protested. “So light I’m afraid I’ll crush you.”

  “Believe me, I’m plenty solid enough—you’re not going to crush me,” I assured him.

  “I just want to ease your pain—not add to it,” he murmured.

  “Don’t worry,” I told him. “I’m, uh, not feeling any pain right now. Not a bit. And…I like you on top of me. I don’t know why though. I just seem to…crave it. Is that, uh, part of the Royal Cycle you were talking about earlier?”

  “To tell the truth, I don’t know,” he admitted. “My old mistress—the Goddess-Empress before you—was well past her needing years when I entered her service. I have never been with an Empress who was young enough to choose a Consort before, so I don’t know much about the process.”

  “Choose a Consort?” I asked, frowning. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “The Empress has…needs.” He sounded like he was trying to be delicate. “Someone must slake them and so a group of Royal candidates are chosen by the Council of Wisdom for the Empress to pick from.”

  “So once I get to Femme One I’m going to have to choose some guy to, uh, service me?” I asked, unable to keep the incredulity out of my voice.

  “Essentially.” Kristoff’s deep voice sounded flat in the darkness. “A male of Royal blood who will sit by your side as you rule and be sire to your children.”

  “God…” I sighed. “This just gets weirder and weirder. What if I don’t want to, uh, choose a Consort?”

  “You’ll have to,” he assured me. “The Empress must have someone to help assuage her hunger.”

  “Sexual hunger, you mean?” I asked flatly.

  “Yes.” He shifted restlessly and I was aware of his long, hard shaft pressing against my thigh. It stirred something inside me—something I’d never felt before. But I pushed the feeling away.

  “What if I don’t have any sexual hunger?” I asked bluntly. “I mean, I never have before.”

  Wow—I couldn’t believe I’d just blurted that out. But it was true—it was like that part of my body was dormant.

  “I mean, not that I’ve never had sex before,” I hastened to explain. “Just that, well, it never actually, uh, did anything for me.” Which was why I had given it up in college and hadn’t bothered since.

  “I have heard that a true La-ti-zal may not have sexual feelings until she finds the male who is meant to be her fated-mate.” Kristoff sounded thoughtful. “So the fact that you have not had, ah, desires before does not surprise me, my Lady. But take my word for it, when you reach the needing phase of the Royal Cycle, you will have to have a male to help you quench your body’s sexual thirst.”

  “I guess we’ll see,” I said neutrally. Secretly, though, I was thinking that if I didn’t feel anything sexually now, in the position I was in, I would probably never feel anything.

  I don’t mean being naked and pinned to the bed under Kristoff’s big, muscular form wasn’t nice—it was all kinds of yummy. He smelled good and he felt incredible and he made me feel warm and safe and protected in a way I never had in my life. Also, I felt a kind of connection with him—something I had never felt with any male before. It was a deep-seated rightness I could neither explain nor deny, which was probably why I was so comfortable telling him things I hadn’t told anyone else.

  But still, though it felt good on all kinds of levels to be pressed naked against him, it didn’t feel sexual—not to me. I could still feel how hard Kristoff was against my thigh and I knew he couldn’t say the same. It didn’t bother me. Though I felt his arousal, I had absolute faith in him that he wouldn’t take advantage of me in any way.

  I could probably spread my legs and let his naked shaft rub against my open pussy and he still wouldn’t do anything I didn’t want him to do, I thought. The mental image gave me a strange tingle which made me slightly uneasy. Why would I imagine such a sexual act? I had never been one to fantasize about sex—it simply did nothing for me. In fact, I had made up my mind years ago that I was probably asexual.

  So why the tingle?

  No reason, I told myself uneasily. It was just a random thought. Don’t dwell on it and it will go away.

  “My lady?” Kristoff’s deep voice murmured in the darkness. “Are you well? You’ve been silent these many moments.”

  “Just thinking,” I said.

  “Would you care to share your thoughts? She who was Empress before you often confided in me.”

  I thought of telling him my idea about letting him rub himself between my legs and felt my face getting hot with a blush.

  “Nothing important,” I mumbled. “I was just thinking I feel like I’ve had enough deep pressure now.” Which was true. My body felt like it had equalized and I felt like I ought to put a little distance between us. Somehow being so close, face-to-face and naked in the dark together felt dangerous in a way it hadn’t before.

  “Do you wish me to leave you?” he asked, rolling off me.

  “No.” I stopped him when he would have gone. “What if my symptoms come back? I couldn’t stand that—they were awful.”

  “I understand,” he murmured. “Do you want me to stay in the sleeping platform beside you and not touch you unless you feel them return?”

  “Why would I want that?” I asked. Despite my feeling that it was somehow dangerous to be so intimately pressed against him, I still didn’t want him to stop touching me completely.

  “Well…” He cleared his throat. “Technically what we are doing is not at all proper. The Council of Wisdom on Femme One would be scandalized.”

  “I don’t care about propriety,” I said. “Or following some set of rules made up by people I didn’t even know existed a few days ago.”

  “They will be your people, my Lady,” he murmured, a faint reproach in hi
s deep voice. “To rule over them properly, you need to care about their laws and regulations.”

  I sighed. “I didn’t mean to offend you, Kristoff. Honestly, it’s hard for me to wrap my head around the idea of ruling anyone. And so much has happened in the past two days. I guess I’m just tired.”

  “Then rest, my Lady.” His voice was gentle. “And I will hold you or not, as you see fit.”

  “Just spoon me,” I said, thinking that would keep us close without the danger of face-to-face intimacy.

  “Spoon?” he asked hesitantly. “I’m not sure what that means.”

  “You know—like spoons in a drawer? Here, like this.”

  I demonstrated by turning my back to his chest and pressing against him so that his big, warm body cradled my own.

  Kristoff accepted me into his arms but then I felt his big body stiffen and his pelvis draw away from my bottom. After a moment, I realized he was trying to keep his erection from pressing against my ass.

  “Look,” I said bluntly. “That doesn’t bother me if it doesn’t bother you. Like I told you before, this isn’t sexual for me. It’s about comfort. See?” To prove my point, I brought one of his big hands to my chest and nestled one of my breasts into his palm. It felt very pleasant—warm and safe. But not sexual, I told myself firmly. I felt that strange little tingle again and pushed it away.

  Not. Sexual.

  Kristoff stiffened again.

  “My Lady, I should not—”

  “Look,” I said impatiently. “What was it you told me back at my apartment when you were folding my undies? You asked me if I wanted a ‘different type of service.’ What was that about if not something like this?”

  He took a deep breath, and I felt his broad chest expanding behind me like a warm wall made of flexible steel.

  “In days past,” he said. “There are tales of Empresses whose Consorts were slain before they were done with their time of needing. In that case, it sometimes happened that the Goddess-Empress would choose one of her Imperial Guards to use.”

  “You mean…to use sexually?” I asked. “That sounds like sexual slavery.”

  “No—it is a great honor to be chosen so,” Kristoff said earnestly. “But the rules of such servitude are very strict. First, the Empress must have no Consort at the time. And second, though she may use her Guard’s body in whatever way she wishes, he is prohibited from using her in the same way.”

  “Uh…I’m confused. If they’re, uh, having sex, aren’t they using each other?” I asked.

  “Not necessarily.” He sighed. “I will be more explicit. When I said that the Empress uses her Guard, I mean that she may touch him—she may even, er, rub against him—in order to achieve a release. But he may not touch back or initiate any, ah, intimate behavior.” He cleared his throat. “For instance, the way you put my hand you your breast—that would be permitted. But if I was to caress your breasts, to tease or suck your nipples into my mouth, to circle your stiff peaks with my tongue to make you moan, well, that would be wrong.”

  His words sent another one of those tingles through me and I felt my nipple, the one that was nestled in his palm, get tight and achy for some reason.

  “Tell…tell me more,” I said a little breathlessly. “What else isn’t, uh, allowed? I mean, what couldn’t you do to me if we were, uh, operating under those rules?”

  “My Lady,” he murmured, his breath hot in my ear. “It would also be forbidden for me to slide my hand down your belly to cup your sex.”

  “It…it would?” My voice was trembling but I didn’t know why.

  “It would,” he assured me, his voice low and intimate in my ear. “And it would likewise be forbidden for me to spread your sweet pussy open and caress your slippery folds, seeking to find your Goddess-pearl and pleasure you by stroking it.”

  I could guess what a Goddess-pearl was and for some reason I found his words made me feel hot and tingly all over. What was this feeling? I couldn’t understand it—I had certainly never felt anything like it before. It was strange and it made me feel uneasy, yet I didn’t want him to stop talking.

  “Tell me more,” I murmured. “What else…couldn’t you do to me?”

  “I could not mount you, of course—could not breed you as you will need to be bred once the needing is past and your Royal Cycle comes to its apex.”

  “Oh?” I had my doubts about this whole needing and breeding stuff, but I was still plenty interested enough to want him to continue. “Go on.”

  “And I could not taste you.” He shifted restively and I thought I heard a longing in his deep voice. “Could not part the lips of your pussy and pleasure you with my mouth and tongue, no matter how much I might desire it.”

  “So that’s…something you, uh, like to do?” I couldn’t believe I was asking him this. But we’d talked about just about everything else—why not?

  “All Majoran males do,” he assured me in a deep voice. “What greater pleasure is there than to be on your knees before your goddess, worshipping her pussy with your tongue?”

  “Hmm…” I was the one who shifted this time, eliciting a soft groan from Kristoff as I inadvertently brushed against his shaft. “I, uh, that’s interesting. And unusual.”

  “Do Earth males not feel the same way?” he asked, sounding surprised.

  I thought of the two guys I’d tried having sex with before giving it up forever. One was my boyfriend in high school—a sweet, bumbling boy named Chad McGarth who couldn’t have found my clit with both hands and a flashlight. He had attempted a few licks between my legs before taking my virginity in what was probably the most boring deflowering ever. His oral attentions reminded me of having a too-eager puppy trying to lick me and I had been glad when he stopped.

  My second and last sexual experience was with a lab partner I’d had in my Freshman chemistry class in college. I’d felt intensely attracted to him—or thought I had. But when it came down to actually doing the deed, he couldn’t turn me on any more than any other guy I’d ever met. I went through with the act anyway, mostly out of hopeful curiosity, to see if anything had changed since high school—it hadn’t. He, too, had been willing to “go downtown” as he put it. But once again, it had done nothing for me and I had been relieved when we were finished and I could put on my clothes and go.

  Shortly after that second attempt at sex was when I had been attacked. And that pretty much ended my sexual career, such as it was. Or wasn’t, I guess.

  “I guess some Earth males don’t mind, uh, tasting a woman,” I said thoughtfully. “But I don’t think they crave it, either.”

  “Majoran males do,” he assured me. “That is why so many of the unmated males pay to be of use in the Temple of Goddess Pleasures.”

  I had no idea what the Temple of Goddess Pleasures was and I didn’t intend to ask. I felt like we were getting off track a little.

  “So, going back to the, uh, ‘rules’ we were discussing—about if I was an Empress without a Consort and I need, um, relief…”

  “Yes?” he murmured.

  “I guess what I’m asking is, you’d never be allowed to touch me?” I asked him. “Even if I ordered you to?”

  “I could only touch you to serve you non-sexually,” he explained. “For instance, to give you a massage or to bathe or dress you—all these things I am permitted.”

  “It sounds like the rules are pretty convoluted,” I murmured.

  “Some have said they are passing strange,” Kristoff admitted. “As I said, it has been quite some time since they had to be invoked. Not since Sundalla the 887th, I believe, which was many generations ago. She lost her Consort when he fought and died in the Battle of Tr’zaq and chose one of her Guards to service her instead.”

  “But the point is, I can touch you if…if I feel like I need to? If it makes me feel more comfortable?” I asked.

  “I am yours to command,” he murmured and the soft, deep tone of his voice suggested he wouldn’t mind being commanded. Wouldn’t mind it
at all.

  Stop it, I told myself sternly. It’s not sexual, no matter what he thinks. You don’t have those feelings—remember? Everything you’ve done tonight is just to alleviate your symptoms—the symptoms of the Burning Blood, as Kristoff called it.

  “So I can do this, if I want to?” To prove to myself that it wasn’t sexual, I pressed my behind back against his warm pelvis, feeling his long, hard shaft thrusting against my ass.

  Kristoff made a sound that was almost a groan in the back of his throat but didn’t move away from me this time.

  “Yes, my Lady. Do as you wish with me,” he murmured, his deep voice hoarse.

  “All right.” I wiggled to try and get comfortable but though his body behind me was warm and solid and felt amazing, his shaft really was poking me. I changed position so that his thick length was nestled in the crevice between my buttocks. Not pressing inward or anything, just…cradled there. Ah…finally I was comfortable.

  But was Kristoff?

  He hadn’t made any kind of protest or moved away from me, but I could feel the tension in his big body as he held me to him.

  “Is this okay?” I asked him, feeling suddenly uncertain. “I mean, is it too, uh awkward for you?”

  “It is…not a position I ever expected to be in with my mistress,” he admitted at last. “But if it makes you feel comfortable and protected, I am pleased to be of service.”

  “But I don’t want to do this if it makes you uncomfortable,” I protested. “You have feelings too! Am I, uh, torturing you?”

  “It’s a sweet torture, my Lady.” His deep voice was hoarse again. “I will willingly endure it if it serves your pleasure.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “I can’t explain it but, well, it makes me feel better to, uh, have contact with you. It makes me feel…safe. And I know my symptoms won’t come back like this.”

  “Then it’s good.” He pulled me a little closer. “I want you to feel safe with me. I will protect you with my life, you know.”

  “I know,” I whispered and I honestly understood that he would. “I’m sorry if it’s, uh, hard—I mean difficult for you,” I said. “But I guess you can probably find someone to help you take the edge off once we get to where we’re going, right?”

 

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