by Ophelia Bell
He’d missed this, though in the past, their roles had been reversed—she’d been the submissive having her recent hurts eased by his gentle touch.
The tub was barely large enough for all four of them, the water sloshing over the edge when both Iszak and Lukas slid in. Nikhil found he didn’t mind the intimate quarters now—he knew he could leave if he chose, but being here meant so much more at the moment. He didn’t mind when each man took one of his feet and began massaging the sore skin of his ankles where the ropes had dug in.
Lying there in the heat of the water, hearing Belah’s murmur of approval in response to two pairs of hands moving up his thighs, he understood what it meant to be here, what it meant to her and to these two men she called mates. He and Belah were one flesh, and the swirling storms in her mates’ eyes proved to him again that they saw him as an extension of her, sought to please him as much as they sought to please her.
He closed his eyes and let out a sigh of pure pleasure when one large hand wrapped around his cock and another cupped his balls. Their bodies bracketed him and Belah in the water, a pair of lips pressed against the corner of his mouth and he turned, accepting Lukas’s kiss as they both began to stroke. Just behind him, Belah let out a soft moan, a sound she only ever made when she kissed him, and he knew without looking that Iszak was kissing her.
Lukas broke the kiss just enough to whisper words in an ancient language that Nikhil struggled to place, but the meaning came to him quickly once he did. “Boreas breathes for us …”
“… We breathe for each other,” Nikhil said, his instincts taking over as he recalled the mantra both men had recited in his presence so recently, after the Lamia had ruthlessly used his body in an attempt to kill his love.
Lukas chuckled softly, the laugh fading when he pressed his lips to Nikhil’s again. Cool breath that tasted of a winter wind filled his mouth, pushing its way deeper into his lungs. Nikhil inhaled, the world tilting as the power of the North Wind filled his body, awakening every cell as though he’d been deflated and was now filled, engorged with power. His cock pulsed under their touch—he thought it was Iszak’s hand there, still stroking him, and the man squeezed.
Lukas pulled away and Iszak bent his head, breathing the same words of the turul mating mantra against Nikhil’s mouth before giving him his own deep dose of power.
Belah’s hands moved lower, her massaging fingers easing into lighter touches, trailing over his chest to tease his nipples. She moaned again, a new kiss from another lover … and Nikhil felt her hips push into his lower back, her slick folds rubbing against him.
He ached to please her, but one formality hadn’t been observed yet—her mates still had to release her from her promise. She was physically unable to take pleasure from him until they allowed it.
His own reflexive moan of bliss escaped him into Iszak’s kiss. The other man’s hand still worked his cock slowly and Nikhil let his hands drift, his body charged with awareness of their presence on either side of him.
While bound before, he’d been forced to feel their arousal, but now that he was in control of his body again, he deliberately sought them both out, determined to master them in some way now that he could.
The breath exchange continued, with both men alternating, though their mantra came in only half-articulate, hitching syllables once he wrapped each hand around their cocks and began to stroke.
When Iszak released his mouth and Lukas took over again, Iszak let out a low growl.
“That’s so fucking good,” he said, his hips tilting up, meeting Nikhil’s strokes.
The feel of them was both alien and familiar, and the hand on his own cock helped it feel almost commonplace that he’d be so intimate with them. The power flooding his limbs now made it even less unusual, and as he squeezed their cocks, he felt them both give in.
“By the Winds, we are made one,” Iszak said, his gaze meeting Nikhil’s for a second to finish the mantra before his lids fluttered shut and his lips parted in an incoherent curse. His head fell back, water droplets trickling down over his shoulders.
Belah tilted her head to Iszak’s arched neck and kissed him, flicking her forked tongue across the pulse point while Nikhil watched.
“Make them come for me,” she murmured, glancing at him. “Own their pleasure and give it to me.”
“They must say it,” Nikhil growled. “I am master here.” He gripped their cocks, tugging roughly under the water, then releasing them. Both men moaned in protest. They knew the power of withholding pleasure as much as they knew the power in giving it.
“Jesus, fuck,” Lukas cursed. “That was never up for debate, man. We’re not stupid. You’re the fucking master. You’ve always been the master, to hear her tell it.”
“But he isn’t just the master,” Iszak said, lifting his head to look at them. “He’s our master. We were never in control. He was. He had all the power, even though he was tied up.”
Nikhil returned his hand to Iszak’s cock, his own hips involuntarily tilting up into Iszak’s fist as he began to stroke again.
“Yeah, I …” Lukas moaned as Nikhil began to please him again. “I get that now.”
“Good,” Nikhil said. “After today, though, we are not taking pleasure with each other unless it’s giving pleasure to her to do so, got it?”
“Fine,” Iszak agreed, almost absently as his hips pushed rhythmically into his stroking fist. He gently moved Iszak’s fist away from his own cock, hoping to save his orgasm for her, if they’d just say the words.
“You too shy to admit you liked the way I fucked you?” Lukas asked, pulling Nikhil’s hand back to his cock and wrapping his fingers around it. “You and I could have a lot of fun together. Belah would get pleasure from it no matter what.”
Belah’s lilting laugh hit his ears and her hands slipped down his belly to grip his erection. “My pleasure? Did you two forget I need your permission to gain any pleasure from Nikhil?”
Then both her hands moved to join Nikhil’s on each man’s cocks, her fingers teasing where his weren’t, around their tips and down to cup their balls until they both grunted and tensed. Iszak slapped his hand down onto the flat stone edge of the tub, bucking into Nikhil’s hand as he came. Lukas’s orgasm soon followed.
Nikhil laughed. “I could have finished them, but I guess that just goes to show who the real master is here,” he said, turning his head to look into her eyes.
Belah’s irises flashed with blue light, a smile playing at her lips. “Is it my turn to be mastered yet, now that you three are finally getting along?”
“I don’t know,” Nikhil said, giving each man a look. “Am I allowed?”
“Maybe …” Lukas said. The brothers shared a glance.
Iszak shook his head. “You can give it to her only after you let her take her pleasure from you first. She’s allowed to use you while we watch, to enjoy you right here where we sit.”
Nikhil frowned. “You know what she is, and what I am … you’re like me, after all.”
“I do, but one thing I’ve always wanted to see, besides you being tied up and taking my brother’s dick in your ass—which was pretty much the best thing ever—is getting to actually see her top you. We’ll let your ass have a break, and I think she’s too impatient right now to let us tie you up again for her, so for now just let her have you right here … however she wants.”
“And after, I have free rein?” Nikhil asked, needing to be sure that there was no question to the allowances they were giving him.
“You are our commander, our general from here on out,” Lukas said, making a fist and pressing it over his heart. Iszak confirmed, mirroring his brother’s gesture with a nod.
“Good, because my orders are going to extend far beyond Belah’s pleasure after tonight.”
Her body shifted behind him, a little sound of displeasure escaping her lips. Iszak shif
ted backward out of the way as her slender body slipped around and she straddled Nikhil’s hips.
“If I’m still in charge, I have one rule,” she said. “No talking about ‘after tonight’ until after tonight. Got it? I believe I have something pretty important to take care of now.”
Nikhil’ slid his hands up her back and she responded with a gasp. She closed her eyes as though the simple caress was close to orgasmic. This was what he’d missed the last time they were together, when she’d been under that cursed vow that she wouldn’t take pleasure from any other man but her mates. That he could still give her pleasure so easily made everything suddenly worthwhile.
He wanted to take the time to do this right, but Iszak and Lukas had made one final request, and he intended to follow through so they couldn’t come back and say they weren’t square. His ass couldn’t handle another round of atonement.
“I am yours, little beast, as I always was. Take your pleasure however you wish.”
“Do you want them to leave?” she asked, sliding her hands down over his chest as she shifted her hips distractingly on top of his. The movement only served to press her hot core more solidly against the base of his aching cock, and he dug his fingers into her hips to maintain control. He’d dreamed of this moment for three thousand years … the moment when she’d finally be his again, body and soul.
“I want whatever will please you most, ‘Iilahatan.”
She smiled and glanced at both her mates. “Then they will witness so there’s no doubt. We were wed once, and made love witnessed by the entire population of Egypt while we were carried through the streets after the ceremony. It was like this, if I recall,” she said, slipping her hand between them to slide her palm up along his hard length. She lifted her hips, gripping one of his shoulders to raise up and gazing down into his eyes, her wet, black tendrils framing her face.
Nikhil turned his gaze up to her, as reverent as he was that day all those years ago. The day his queen—his goddess—had become his wife.
When she sank down onto him, her hot sheath squeezing his thickness and taking him to the hilt, he said a prayer to Isis, even as the goddess herself gazed raptly down into his eyes.
“Mark me so that I never forget who my mistress truly is,” he said. “While I may master you for the rest of my life, and you will wear my collar, I want a mark that shows that my heart and my soul are yours to command, always.”
Belah whimpered as she began to move on his cock, so he couldn’t be sure if she was surprised by his request or was overcome with pleasure at the penetration. He kept his hands on her hips but didn’t force her movements, letting her set the pace. He was aware of Iszak and Lukas relaxing beside them, their gazes fixed on her.
She was at the center, after all, and would always be the core of their quartet.
“Yes,” she whispered, her voice shaky. “This will hurt, but it will be the last time I ever hurt you. After today, I am yours. My body and soul are yours.”
She gripped his wrists and lifted his hands, twining her fingers with his. Starting at his left wrist, she flicked her tongue out, the double points lashing with stinging precision and drawing a searing line of magic in a band around his flesh. She moved to the other wrist and repeated the process, her hips moving swifter now atop his cock.
Nikhil’s focus sharpened when she completed the second wrist and he realized what she’d done. Magic flared from the twin marks she’d given him … shackles that bound him to her. It flooded his mind and his head fell back against the side of the tub.
Power the likes of which he’d never felt rocketed through his body, agony taking up residence in every cell like she’d filled him with pure fire.
But still she fucked him, her tight, wet heat drawing his focus back to where they were joined, reminding him that she was his too with the way her body responded to the pleasure his cock gave her.
Just when the fire that seared his cells seemed to cool to a warm glow, she pressed her body against his, breasts sliding along his chest and hips surging atop him. She let out a long moan that signaled her impending climax, one he couldn’t wait to feel. His hands went back to her hips, the shining bands of blue magic distracting him with their glow for a moment.
Her lips went to his throat, her voice rough as she murmured, “I’m not finished yet, my love.”
No, but she would be soon, and it would be glorious when the magic of her climax flooded him the way it used to, and all the power of her pleasure would be for him.
Then her tongue flicked out, and a knife blade of pain sliced across his throat. He opened his mouth in a soundless cry and arched his entire body into her. His eyes flew open and he dug his fingers hard into her hips, but it was only her lips on his neck, so why had it hurt so much?
The pain came again as she moved to the other side of his throat, a hot line of fire extending across his Adam’s apple. It felt like she’d slit his throat, even though he knew better. His cock only grew harder, hotter, and though he’d lost focus and the ability to move, she kept fucking him, the pleasure of her core tight around him, drawing him ever closer to climax.
A hot coil wrapped around his neck, his eyes streamed with tears. She’d said it would hurt, and this must be a part of it, a part of the warning and her worry all along—why she’d never marked him to start with. As impervious as he’d become to pain and physical damage since their wedding night, she could still drive agony deep into his soul if she tried.
The talon claws of her mates were nothing compared to this … this soul-rending torment her tongue gave him. A part of her body that had pleasured him so perfectly so many times. Had he only known … what? That to become hers completely he would have to endure such torture? He would have done it then, and he could stand it now too.
But the pain, oh goddess, the pain. It pierced his mind, flayed his consciousness, tore his soul into pieces. If it weren’t for the sweet pleasure of her pussy to act as counterpoint, he’d have been lost completely.
“Come,” she said, and he was too lost to argue. His body was hers now, all hers, and his cock responded instantly, his orgasm surging from him as though she’d simply pulled a chain and let the floodgates loose.
Nikhil’s last sense of self rushed from him when his seed shot through his cock and into her. Belah bucked and shuddered and her power filled him completely, obliterating everything that was him before. Nothing was left but the bright awareness of her thrall over him, and that he lived to serve her and only her.
Chapter Seventeen
Nikhil
“Nikhil, no,” Belah commanded.
“Yes, ‘Iilahatan. I’m yours,” he said, and it was the truth, though he didn’t understand why his mistress stared at him with such sadness.
“I have made you cry. I am sorry, mistress. You may punish me for displeasing you. Let your mates tie me up again. They enjoy giving punishment.”
The pair of his mistress’s mates both cursed, and he didn’t understand their displeasure either, but he was willing to endure their punishment if it made his mistress happy.
His mistress kept saying “no” and crying. So he tried to comfort her. When she slid off his lap, he climbed out of the tub and got to his knees, pressed his head to the floor and begged for her forgiveness for whatever it was he had done.
“I have to take it back!” she said. “I shouldn’t have marked him. Sweet Mother, what have I done? Please, Nikhil. Please be in there. Give me some sign that you remember what we really are to each other. I’m your little beast. I’m yours to command, to own, not the other way around.”
I’m your little beast. The words sparked in his mind as her hands grabbed at his shoulders, urging him to sit up, to look at her. She cupped his face in both her palms, her red-rimmed eyes staring at him.
His mistress was sad because of him, but he lived at her whim. Perhaps he should kill himself.
/> “Should I die for you? Is that what you wish? If you wish it, I will do it.”
“No! Oh, Nikhil, that’s the last thing I want. I want you to choose what you do for me.”
Her mates came to her sides and comforted her. Nikhil relaxed, glad that she had two strong males who were worthy of her. Perhaps he would learn how to be worthy of her again.
The dark-eyed one with the grim face hauled him to his feet.
“Tell me how to please her, and I will do it,” Nikhil said, turning a pleading gaze to the man who led him down a hallway into another room. He remembered this room. This was where he could be made worthy. He pointed at the ropes that dangled from the ceiling. “Tie me again. Make me worthy of her.”
His mistress’s mate shook his head. “Brother, you already succeeded in doing that in spades. It’s your turn to be the master again. That’s what she needs from you. Snap the fuck out of it.”
“Tie me up,” his mistress said, rushing into the room behind them, naked and frantic. “Show him. Maybe that will spark his memory. Bring him back.”
Her long-haired mate followed her to the center of the room and grimly wrapped her wrists and ankles in the ropes. It looked wrong to Nikhil to see her this way. She was the mistress, not the slave to be bound and whipped. She was supposed to inflict the punishment on him because he’d displeased her.
“Sit,” the short-haired mate said.
Nikhil knew he should remember their names, but all he knew was hers. His mistress. His Belah. Nothing else mattered but giving himself to her, fulfilling her every wish, pleasing her through servitude.
“This had better work,” the short-haired one said. He picked up a wicked-looking whip from a chest and went to the other side of his mistress, pulled his arm back, and with a fluid strike, the whip cracked.
His mistress cried out, her nipples hardened, and the mate behind her also grew erect. He struck again and Nikhil’s brow twitched. Something wasn’t right—he should be the one tied, being punished, shouldn’t he?