[The Onic Empire 03] - Sinful Harvest

by Anitra Lynn McLeod

  Lowering his head, he nuzzled her nose. “I can’t even tell you how good you feel.” Her skin was so much softer than he remembered, almost as smooth as astle.

  Her laugh was light. “You don’t have to tell me, I feel the same way.”

  Cupping her chin, he kissed her as they rocked together, teasing their bodies to create gentle friction. After every few strokes, Ariss would angle her hips, almost drawing him within, but then his penis would skim by. Waiting for the moment of penetration drove him wild. He knew by the way her breath grew labored that she was only making both of them crazy with longing. When he looked into her eyes, he saw smoky intensity.

  “You are the most wonderful lover I have ever known.”

  He could see that she was going to immediately deny his claim, but something stopped her, perhaps the honesty in his expression. Whatever it was changed her mind, and she accepted his compliment with a smile and a soft kiss.

  In this position, him on his side, her on her back with one leg over his hips, he was free to touch her everywhere, and he did. Everything from the nape of her neck to the swell of her bottom received caressing strokes. Cupping her breast, he twisted the nipple gently between forefinger and thumb, loving the way she arched her back, as if offering her breast to him. He lowered his head to taste and tease the bud with his mouth. Her sigh of contentment pleased him greatly.

  Ariss splayed her fingers through his hair, holding his head, encouraging him with gentle pressure and subtle moans that drove him out of his mind. All the while, she continued to rock her hips, tracing the length of his erection with her sex. He’d never known a woman with such precise control over her hips. Ariss could finesse moments he swore were impossible. Just when he thought he couldn’t stand any more delay, she moved her hips in just such a way to bring the very tip of him to the entrance of her passage.

  “Wait.” Holding her hip, he caused her to hesitate for just a moment, just until he could lift his head and look right into her eyes.

  Ariss stared back at him with such longing, such beautiful yearning hunger, he thought no woman would ever be able to match her profound craving for him. His ego soared. He’d had women want him, but not like this. Not with Ariss’ ardent enthusiasm.She didn’t care what color he wore or what hung around his neck. To Ariss, he was a man, her man, not a slave, or a plaything, or something to be bandied about in trade with the empress. He was hers and they belonged together. Carefully, keeping his gaze pinned to hers, his lips close enough to almost kiss, he penetrated.

  Her mouth opened on a slight gasp, drawing air from his lungs, causing him to exhale in time, as if feeding her his breath. Slowly, inexorably, he slid deeper, feeling her passage give around the girth of his cock, feeling the way her body quivered with want and something akin to shock at his invasion. No matter how slowly he went, he had to push his way in, which he found extremely exciting. He had to conquer. Lucky was he that Ariss not only let him, but also encouraged his triumph; she wanted him inside. Lifting her leg a bit higher on his hip loosened her entrance, giving him permission to press deeper, which he did. Now she gave him breath as he gasped at the enveloping heat of her. If he didn’t distract himself, he would lose what little control he had left. Ariss didn’t help matters by whispering about how hard and thick he felt inside her, and how she wanted to feel all of him sliding into her at once.

  He lifted her other leg up, angling her legs over his hip with her on her back. He pressed his hand along the top of her hip, holding her steady, making her wait for him to catch his breath.

  “Kerrick.” She called his name with a breathless plea.

  He answered with a roll of his hips.

  “Oh, yes.” Her head went back.

  Angling himself above her, he slid his arm under her neck, supporting her head, so that he could kiss her deeply. “Say my name again.”

  She did, whisper-begging his name as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding on to him. From her lips, his name sounded musical. Softly, she continued chanting his name in time to the rolling twists of his hips. Sliding his hand down from her face to her breast, he teased both nipples into tight peaks, then moved on to her waist, pressing hard so as not to tickle her, then down to her hip where he held her for a series of deeper plunges. Then, teasingly light and slow, he lowered his hand to the juncture of her thighs.

  Ariss curved her body, as if to lift her hips to his hand, but he would not be rushed. Twirling his fingertips in her curls, he explored the triangle of hair above her sex. Tugging lightly elicited groans and growls, causing her to clench around his shaft. With his attention on his hand, he didn’t notice that Ariss had reached out until she playfully tweaked his nipple, causing him to rock forward, forcing him to plunge all the way to the base of his cock.

  Ariss exhaled in a sharp burst and then repeated the motion on his other nipple, eliciting the same thrust. Most Diolan women avoided touching him there, which was a shame, as his nipples linked directly to his pelvis. Fearless in her exploration, Ariss touched him everywhere, heedless of any societal semi-taboo rules. Once she realized the link between his nipples and hips, she couldn’t get enough of twisting them.

  “Is that what you want?” he asked, thrusting deeply with a quick flick of his hips.

  Languorously, she nodded, then tweaked his nipples with both hands. Her wanton smile when he involuntarily thrust said it all.

  Working one finger down between her thighs, he teased his digit against her straining little clit, then pumped in sharp bursts. Rocking her back and forth, he lowered his finger, pressing it alongside his penis, stretching her even further as his thumb smoothed wide, sweeping arcs along her tender clit.

  Breathing raggedly, Ariss squirmed, each circle of her hips moving in a syncopated rhythm to his. When she hovered on the verge of a shattering orgasm, he changed the beat, throwing her off her tempo, bringing her higher.

  Watching her face, his attention on her eyes, he marveled as her pupils dilated and her breath grew erratic. Knowing that a potent orgasm grew within her, Kerrick felt the inevitable rising up through his body. His breathing mimicked hers, each breath more labored as they moved relentlessly toward the final release. He’d been waiting two cycles for this moment and suspected she had, too. When the climax came, it would be profound. Moving within her, feeling her, taking her with him, Kerrick allowed his awareness to deepen until he felt every bit of his flesh pressed to hers.

  His climax came first, a jetting tide that literally took his breath away as he plunged so deeply into her he dislodged his hand. Ariss’ eyes went wide with panic, for he’d lost the beat of his thumb across her clit.

  Fumbling, he lifted her left leg up high and pressed the other low. Parting her thighs allowed him to keep his cock plunged deep while he worked his thumb across her clit in a fast, steady beat, desperate to bring her back to that moment right before orgasm.

  Alarm faded as her head nodded in time, encouraging him, catching her back up to the edge. When she tumbled over, such blissful joy filled her face he almost came again. Her cunt spasmed around his cock, holding him so snuggly he could feel each distinctive texture within her luscious sex.

  Waves of pleasure washed over her, spilling into him, causing him to clutch madly at her hips to hold her tight. Ariss grasped his back, pulling him onto her, snuggling her body as tight to his as she could. His lips found hers and he kissed her as if he took life from her mouth. Again and again, she clenched around him, drawing him so deeply within he felt he was a part of her. In this moment, they were no longer separate beings, but one.

  Cradling her in his arms, he lifted up to see her face. Peace suffused her features. Blissful, beautiful serenity glowed from her eyes. A delicate sheen of perspiration flushed her face, and when he breathed deeply, the fragrance of sweet valasta filled the air around her.

  “I could lose myself in your scent.”

  Dreamily, she blinked up at him. “I’m not wearing any perfume.”

  “I kn
ow.” Tracing his fingertip from her ear to her neck caused her to shiver. “You always smell like valasta to me.” He wrapped the bedcover around them and she snuggled into his embrace.

  “You always smell of the sky to me.” She smiled up at him. “I know that sounds strange, but your scent is like air, like if flying had a fragrance, you had captured it somehow.”

  The notion made him echo her smile. “I always did like to fly.”

  Her smile faded. “And now you’re stuck here.” Her gaze fell on the slave collar.

  “Ariss, don’t.” He cupped her face, forcing her to look away from his neck. “For now, forget all of it, everything. Just be here with me.” Soon enough they would have to return to their respective roles, and all the rules and restrictions they operated under, but for now, they could lie here and pretend.

  With a nod, she kissed him. “I love the way you look when you climax. Every time there is this stunned amazement, as if you thought it would never happen again.”

  “Truly?” He’d never seen himself in the throes of passion. The few times he’d been with a woman and a mirror, he’d been too busy looking at her to check out himself. “Maybe the amazement is that I’m stunned to be with a beautiful woman like you.”

  “Flatterer.”

  “It’s not flattery if it’s true.” He meant what he said. Ariss was beautiful. All the other women he’d ever known paled in comparison.

  “Wait until I grow large.” She patted her hand to her still-flat belly. A frown twisted her face. “How long can we—I mean, before it hurts the baby?” Before he could answer, she asked, “How can we even—without smashing the baby?”

  He placed his hand atop hers, rubbing the back of her hand and her stomach. “We can do this for a long time.” Rolling her over so that he embraced her from behind, he curled up against her. “See? This way, there’s room for the baby.” He patted the empty bed before her belly.

  “And how do you know all this?” She turned her head, looking at him over her shoulder. “Have you been with a pregnant woman?”

  “Once.” He thought back to that time with Nomi.

  “You have a child?” The bottom fell out of her voice as she twisted in his embrace.

  “No, no,” he kissed the nape of her neck, settling her. “Another man did the deed, then left. Nomi was convinced no man would ever find her attractive again. I convinced her otherwise.”

  “Will you still want me when I’m huge?”

  “Absolutely.” He actually found the prospect of making love to Ariss while she was large with his child unbelievably arousing. With his mouth to her ear, he whispered, “Your breasts will be full and wonderfully sensitive.” He teased the barest brush of his fingertips over the tips, springing them to life. “Every little touch will seem amplified. And your belly”—he slid his hand down to toy with her belly button—“will be round and proud, carrying life.” He sighed. “We will have to be languid and slow, terribly tender and careful of the life within. How could I not find you attractive that way?”

  She didn’t speak for a long moment and he realized she was crying softly. He didn’t worry over her rapidly changing emotions. Nomi had been awhirl of swift mental states from anger to sadness to unbearable giddiness. Kerrick wrapped Ariss tightly in his arms, rubbing his cheek against hers, murmuring endearments.

  Ariss seemed on the verge of saying something, but forcefully held herself back, and he wondered if she’d been about to confess the truth of her heart. He absolutely understood why she didn’t; he couldn’t either.

  “You don’t have to say it, Ariss. I feel the same way.”

  Her sigh of relief said everything.

  Entwined, his hand pressed protectively over her belly; they fell asleep with many things known but entirely unspoken.

  Tavarus came early in the morning. He came with a swaggering arrogance and a mocking laugh that wrenched Kerrick from his pleasant dream. He and Ariss lived in the forest, not as humans, but as fluffy creatures that knew nothing of politics or power plays. They spent their time foraging for food and fornicating with lusty abandon. Leaving behind that blissful fantasy almost brought tears to Kerrick’s eyes. More than anything, he wanted to give Ariss her heart’s desire. Damn Tavarus for not even allowing him the briefest moment of success.

  Never before had Kerrick felt Tavarus arrive. Instantly on guard, Kerrick realized Tavarus wanted him to know he’d come. When Kerrick felt him, he wanted to get himself away from Ariss as fast as he could, but his body was locked. In a moment of utter horror, he realized why Tavarus let him keep his awareness.

  In his mind’s eye, Tavarus appeared as a tall muscular man, draped in a black loincloth, with a straight nose, thin lips, bald head, and eyes of indiscernible color. Every part of his features was in perfect proportion. Deeply bronzed skin glowed with ethereal light. Around the upper portion of his right arm, a black band of sharp angles against a parallel line encircled his entire bicep.

  Kerrick faced this god in his mind without any way to defend himself. In his vision, he stood as he was, nude, his blond hair gleaming, his green eyes positively glowing, a bronze collar around his neck, but Tavarus manifested multiple weapons in his hands with the snap of his fingers. When Tavarus tossed them to Kerrick, he dropped them as if oil coated his fingers. Tavarus laughed and laughed.

  “I don’t need weapons to defeat you.” Tavarus made the blades disappear, then shoved him as he strode past.

  Kerrick landed hard on his butt, humiliated, glaring up at the god who commanded his body.

  Tavarus forced one of Kerrick’s eyes open.

  Mercilessly, he peered down at Ariss.

  Sometime during the night, she had rolled over and now faced toward him, her features soft with sleep. Her eyelids fluttered and Kerrick realized she was dreaming. Her mouth curved in a soft smile, telling him her dream was a pleasant one, hopefully one like his.

  His heart took a sickening lurch in his chest.

  Ariss lay utterly vulnerable.

  Cold, sharp fear infiltrated every muscle in his body, twisting him as tightly as a coiled spring.

  “Isn’t she beautiful?” Tavarus asked, forcing Kerrick’s hand out to stroke her cheek. Her skin gave below the gentle pressure. “So soft, so sweet. But what’s this? Dried tears?” Smoothing his fingertip over the tracks of sorrow on her face, his raucous laughter filled Kerrick’s head. “Did you make her cry with your big, thick cock?”

  Snarling, Kerrick verbally lashed out, but Tavarus silenced him with a flick of his finger. Kerrick didn’t see his hand gesture so much as he felt the movement in his mind. He felt the promise of Tavarus’ finger pressing against his lips. A frightening impotence made him hot with fury. How could he fight an enemy who had utter control over his body?

  Worse, how could he protect the woman he loved?

  Tavarus felt his conflict and chuckled. “Silence, you simple fool. You are lucky I let you have her uninterrupted last night.” Tavarus forced Kerrick’s hand to cup her breast, eliciting a soft moan from between her parted lips. “It pleased me to let you have that moment to waylay her into thinking I was bored with her. To convince her I had departed for good.”

  Disappointed with her show of pleasure, Tavarus pinched Kerrick’s fingers to her nipple until Ariss whimpered. He let go before she woke. “How could I ever become bored with such a lovely, responsive creature?”

  Kerrick tried to yank his hand away, but Tavarus only laughed, and forced his hand lower.

  “I think with proper training, she will grow to welcome pain.”

  Kerrick struggled against him, but Tavarus easily bypassed his paltry resistance. Throughout his experiences, Kerrick had encountered those who found a curious pleasure within pain, but Ariss was not of that breed. She enjoyed the tease, the delay of gratification, but only by the darkest perversity would someone turn her into a woman who welcomed pain. Given enough time, and the manipulations of a powerful god, Tavarus could mold her to such a being. Just the th
ought destroyed a part of Kerrick’s soul. Ariss was beautifully crafted for pleasure. The simplest touch, the most mild of erotic game, gave her tremendous satisfaction. Kerrick would rather die than be a part of perverting her innate response into something against her nature.

  Slipping his finger between her thighs, Tavarus exclaimed, “Wonderful! She’s still wet from last night.” Rubbing his finger along her slick lips, Tavarus coated his digit with her juice, then lifted his hand to Kerrick’s mouth. He forced him to taste her before sliding his finger back between her widely parted legs.

  “Look. Don’t you see how much she wants me?”

  What Kerrick saw was her longing for him, not Tavarus. The touches she felt she believed to be from him, not the wanton god who had hurt her so badly. Tavarus only touched her gently now to trick her into further submission. He wanted Ariss writhing and willing and then, and only then, would he wake her with the knowledge that he was going to hurt her. Kerrick could feel how much Tavarus longed for the moment when her face would change from welcoming enjoyment to frightened pain.

  Knowing what pleasure Tavarus took in inflicting pain killed something in Kerrick. All his life Kerrick had sought out women to bed, but never with the thought of force. Each woman came to him willing, wanton, her needs meshing with his. Mutual shared bliss was what he sought. Tavarus wanted kneeling supplicants. He wanted Ariss terrified. He wanted her to part her legs in appeasement because of dread, not passion. The darkest emotions aroused Tavarus more than willing participation ever could. If Ariss wanted him, if she actively sought him out, he would not want her in return. If Tavarus succeeded in turning her into a woman who actually reveled in his abuse, he would leave her. How Tavarus had become a god Kerrick didn’t know, but he wasn’t a god of sex. Of war, perhaps, but not sex. Not when he used sex as a weapon.

  Ariss moaned and spread her legs farther, giving him greater access. Her response was automatic as she anticipated more pleasure. To his horror, Ariss had no idea a maniacal bastard now ruled Kerrick’s body. If he could have warned her, he would have, but Tavarus commanded him, forcing him to keep his lips pressed while he fingered her sleepy, defenseless body.