“Ahem.” He cleared his throat and shifted uneasily. “How many times did you do this last night?”
“Four.” The only description for Doral's slow, slight smile was evil.
Shit.
Ari blew out a long, slow breath. “I hate cockrings.”
“You will hate them worse tomorrow. Just remember,” his visconte taunted. “For Verdantia.”
Swearing quietly, Ari gingerly rolled onto his stomach.
* * * * *
When Fleur had recovered enough to demand more, Doral handed his Primo Gabriella’s nasty cockrings. Ari could only shrug in good-natured resignation.
“I hope you enjoy watching me writhe, Visconte. Someone should get some pleasure from it.” Shuddering, he slipped on the gold rings.
Doral did not enjoy watching Ari writhe. He did not possess the disposition for extended torment. While some might not make the distinction, Doral thought of himself as a clean assassin—not a torturer. He never played with his targets. If he could arrange it, they never knew death was coming.
Understanding what Ari endured, once was enough for him. In the aftermath of their second encounter, he rolled over to Ari’s straining cock and gently, carefully, removed the devilish rings from the conte’s body.
“By the seven hells of Jurossa, Doral, thank you.” A pained grunt accompanied Ari’s thanks. “I’m in too much pain to move.”
“I understand.” The two men exchanged wincing glances.
Fleur was not as kind. Muttering something Doral didn't understand about “pig-headed and mule-headed,” she stared coolly at Ari. “No, my Lord, by my command, put those back on.”
His Primo had nodded his head curtly and silently relaxed against the headboard. From the expression on Ari’s face as he again closed the rings around his staff and balls, Fleur would do well to tread carefully. In the past year and a half, those on the receiving end of that particular look never fared very well.
She cast appraising glances at Ari as the trio pleasured each other. “You enjoy pulling your partner to the vicious edge of release, then torturing them with denial. I think a little of your own back might make you more sympathetic, warlord.”
“I did nothing that is not required by the rites.” Ari grunted as her warm sheath slid up and down slowly on his insanely aroused shaft.
“It is your enjoyment of my suffering, of Doral’s suffering, that chafes. Perhaps you need to have a more intimate acquaintance with what it is you do to us.” Sliding off him, she rolled to Doral, mounting his cock with a controlled swirl of her hips.
As they crescendoed, Ari writhed in helpless arousal, held viciously at the moment of orgasm by the gold cockrings frustrating his release. His outrageously hard shaft slapped his stomach in dry, erratic jerks and pulses that another time would result in the blessed relief of ejaculation. Choked animal grunts escaped his clenched jaw as he was reduced to watching, agonized, while his Segundo and his Prima climaxed ecstatically.
As Fleur and Doral lay boneless in the aftermath of their orgasm, Ari panted heavily and eyed them with a wildly feral glint in his eyes. Fleur’s eyes, half-lidded in gratification, languid with a pleasure hangover, slid over his tortured body. She smiled in satisfaction. “Now you know how your partners feel.”
A primal and unrestrained snarl echoed above the rumbling vibrations, as if a demon-wolf stalked the chamber. Ari tore off the gold cockrings. Gold gleamed, flying through the air, bouncing off the farthest wall with a melodic chime, then rolling into the center of the chamber, coming to rest on their sides. “Damn those torturous devices to the seven hells!”
He turned on Fleur with breathtaking savagery. Initially, his violence alarmed Doral. Barely restraining himself, ready to physically intervene, Doral quickly realized first, that, while she might be left with some tender spots, Ari was not hurting Fleur; and second, she was quite intentionally goading him. The little hell-cat was deliberately spurring him on with her physical resistance and verbal provocation, inciting him to lose his much-vaunted self-control.
* * * * *
“Not wonderful to be on the receiving end, is it, Conte?” Fleur spat, struggling fiercely to free her hands from Ari’s grasp. “How does it feel to be tortured with arousal and helpless?”
She was hopelessly outmatched. Ari swung his leg over her writhing hips, pinning her underneath him. As insanely aroused and furious as he was, he had to admire her. She never stopped fighting him although the outcome was certain. He would win.
“You little witch, you have no idea who you play with,” he snarled back. Working his hips between her thrashing thighs, he plunged into her with a heavy surge.
“Keep struggling, Your Majesty, it makes it better.” Ari grunted, hilting himself repeatedly.
“Brute!” she screamed, inches from his snarling face. “Conceited, lumbering ass!”
It took one more stroke of his engorged shaft capped by her plunging body to finish him. “By the seven hells!” He groaned. Still holding her hands trapped above her head, he collapsed, mindless.
“Get off me, Ari. You hulking bully.”
He lay there for a few moments, ignoring her squirms. “Not enough.” Raising himself onto his elbows, feeling her heavy pants on his face, he smiled. “I. Have. Not. Had. Nearly—enough.”
Her eyes widened and she choked off the insult hovering on her lips.
“Ohhh, yesss, Your Majesty, be scared.” Ari leaned down and nipped up her neck to her lips, jerking away as she tried to bite him. A low rumble of satisfied laugher vibrated in his chest.
“Oh no, you are done fighting. Now, you do a little suffering of your own.”
“What do you mean?” Though breathy, her voice filled with suspicion. “What are you going to do?”
He gripped both her wrists in one of his large hands, a hand that was capable of beheading an enemy with one swipe of a blade. Still sunk deeply into her, his lower body effectively pinned her.
“I’m going do a little bit of my own torturing.” His free hand descended in a caressing swipe to her breast, holding its weight in his palm and grazing her nipple with his thumb.
“Ari,” she gasped, “please, no more!”
“When I get through, you will be begging for more.” His pubic bone surged slow circles up and down her wet mound. “You will beg me to let you come.”
He was right.
In the aftermath, through slumberous eyes, he captured Doral with a feral gaze and whispered, “You are next.” Pure exhaustion interceded before he made good on that threat.
* * * * *
A few hours before daylight, the trio left the ritual chamber in the sigil tower to seek their beds. With a depth of yearning that surprised him, Doral watched Ari lovingly support Fleur as they staggered through their apartment doors without a backward glance.
Doral didn’t presume the Tetriarch assured his presence in their marriage bed. In fact, outside of his position as Segundo, the uncertainty of his exact standing with either of them nagged at him. He dismissed Fleur’s declarations of love for him. The darling girl had been “under the influence” as it were. And Ari? He knew Ari wanted him physically, had some warmly possessive feelings about him. He didn’t dare hope Ari desired the more substantial relationship his heart yearned to have.
Our genetics brought us together, no other reason. Doral crawled into the cool sheets, alone. What I have now is enough. It was far more than he ever had before.
He savagely ridiculed himself for the hope that they could come to love him. No one could love ‘Contradina’s Abomination’. They will find out about me eventually. What little humanity remains in my soul will die if Ari and Fleur look on me with the revulsion and fear I see in others but it is only a matter of time; too many people know.
He closed his eyes against the brutal, clawing pain of that thought and willed himself into nothingness, divorcing himself from any feeling, physical or emotional. His mind sped down that well-traveled road. In moments, he floated in a black void of
non-existence—his one certain, refuge.
* * * * *
Far too early the next morning, the High Enclave Council called Ari, Fleur and Doral to the Council Chambers. He and Fleur sat, blearily waiting for the session to come to order. Doral, far more alert, surreptitiously took in every detail of the chamber. Ari followed his gaze. The only oddity he could determine was a very large map, held by an easel, sitting to the side. Doral is hovering over us like a worried nursemaid. Poor man. Now there are two of us to fret over. By all the gods, every part of me hurts. He’d paid heavily for his enjoyment of Doral's torment last night.
The present reclaimed his attention when Elder Patricio rose and called the Enclave to order. Facing the triumvirate, the elder began. “Your Lordships, Your Majesty, we would like to report to you on some of the results from last night.”
“As we had hoped, during sexual arousal and orgasm the three of you create a harmonic pattern that generates astounding amounts of energy. That energy, in the presence of Verdantian crystal, is transmitted in a 360-degree radius to be absorbed by other crystals. When fully saturated, one crystal spills energy over to the next crystal and so forth in a cascading flow of power.” The elder tried, unsuccessfully, to contain a broad smile. “This morning, we had reports from as far away as Spatioso Mintoth on activity in diamantorre dead for over three years. The potential you three possess to empower all the diamantorre on Verdantia, while never leaving Sylvan Mintoth, is without comparison in the recorded history of Verdantia.”
“Primo, it is crucial we send patrols to our diamantorre in these eight areas.” Elder Patricio crossed to the map and indicated areas already colored. “We need reports on the status of the dais crystals and we no longer have population in these places.” The elder paused for a few moments. “While status reports continue to filter in through various sources, we know we have an intact energy shield for a radius of five thousand, seven hundred and fifty-two miles surrounding Sylvan Mintoth.”
He heard an unfamiliar squawking honk. As he scanned the chamber to identify the sound, he realized it was Patricio laughing. The elder recovered quickly from his unprecedented show of humor. “I don't know what you did last night, but it blew the sigil power grids. You could hear and feel the vibrations in the lower city, and see the blazing light from Sylvan Mintoth's tower in the streets below for miles. In my lifetime, I don't know of this happening. You weren't even in the dais chamber. I am totally confounded.” The elder almost levitated in his excitement.
“Elder.”
“Yes, Segundo.”
“What is the best way to complete the regeneration of the sigil towers? Is it prolonged arousal or climax?”
“Um, well, actual orgasm produces large amounts in a short burst, but a lengthy time period of extreme arousal can actually create many times more. It is why cinnagin is used in the Great Rite.” Patricio paused. “In your case, your three genetic structures interact to produce many times the harmonic energies a normal ritual would create, so you are ahead of the norm whatever you do.”
Patricio looked at Ari and asked matter-of-factly, “Was your arousal last night comparable to what you experienced during the Great Rite?”
Ari lifted an eyebrow and through narrowed eyes, shot a pointedly accusatory glance at Fleur. “Vastly more intense.”
Fleur chewed on her lower lip, perilously close to smiling, and then murmured a half-hearted and patently insincere, “Sorry.”
Doral choked and covered his mouth, coughing to disguise an unwilling laugh at Ari’s sotto voce, “Pig-headed she-devil.” The pleasant expression on Ari’s face and the caress in his voice failed to disguise the softly spoken insult.
Fleur found her shoes intensely fascinating.
The rustle and amused whispers of the elders filled the chamber. Patricio turned and eyed them coldly. Silence settled over the room.
Fleur's gentle voice filled the momentary pause. “Elder Patricio, can you estimate – with the energy absorbed by the outlying sigil towers – how long will these shield walls hold?”
“Your Majesty, we cannot so estimate. We must get a comprehensive tabulation of what towers are active and monitor how long they stay that way.”
Doral broke out of his reverie. Picking up one of Fleur's hands and kissing it gently, he leaned across her to speak in an undertone with Ari. “Primo, if active towers span as great a distance as Elder Patricio says, and I see no reason to doubt him, we must re-establish interior gateways immediately. We isolate our cavalry on opposite sides of the energy walls if we don't. However, after what we learned on Raegill II and from the Haarb, it would be wise to erect something other than a free-pass gate. We cannot use the same construct as before.”
Ari nodded his head in agreement. “I think I am still half asleep. That should have occurred to me.” At Fleur's expression of inquiry, Ari murmured, “It’s that Augoust business.”
She sobered.
Ari stood and addressed the entire Council of Elders. “Elders, as your Primo, and with the support of my Prima and my Segundo, I need to make you aware of the imminent threat to our planet from an unlikely source.”
The babble of over forty anxious voices bounced off the chamber walls until Patricio barked, “Silence!” In the ensuing vacuum of sound, he nodded at Ari.
“To control what we believe is an attempt to occupy Verdantia by portions of the LFP”—a scattering of alarmed voices filled the background—“I ask that this council meet and designate eight magisters of level four or higher to accompany eight rides of Verdantian cavalry.”
Comments of “The LFP are allies. They betray us?” filled the chamber, rising in volume behind Ari’s attempt to speak.
Ari spoke louder. “They will be dispatched to list operational towers and their energy levels and then to strategic points to create gateways between our diamantorre now fully powered.”
The noise rose continually. Ari ceased speaking and cast an angry glance toward Patricio. Once again, Patricio’s voice pierced through the cacophony of sound. “Silence! You will be silent while our Primo speaks.”
“Excuse me, Elder Patricio, but we have a right to be heard.” Elder Eirdale’s voice came from the back of the room, then he stood. “DeTano has made some bold accusations. We have a right to see supporting proof, otherwise, how do we know what is true and what is not?”
Ari nodded curtly at Patricio. “I will be happy to satisfy all your questions, Eirdale, but first things first, shall we? Whatever happens, we need gates and reports.”
“Yes, I suppose you have a point.” Eirdale resumed his seat.
“To continue then,” Ari scanned the chamber. “As we learned tragically, our gateways between the interior energy walls created by our diamantorre can no longer be 'free passage', open to anyone who approaches.
“I ask this council to determine the best way to construct a gateway allowing us to filter who is admitted and instruct your eight magisters in its implementation.”
“Sixth-level magisters operated the importation gates that surrounded the spaceport in our city of Arkodaenia. These gateways allowed us to screen goods and persons entering Verdantia. They were among the first elements of our defense system disabled by the Haarb. Built to withstand exterior attack, the Haarb destroyed them immediately by attacking from within.”
“We must be able to prevent ingress through these new gates in either direction; and we must be able to operate them with lower level magisters or commoners. With one or two exceptions, all magisters over fourth level are dead.”
At the audible murmurs of, “impossible,” “it cannot be done,” and “he cannot be serious,” Ari scanned the assembly with a jaundiced eye. “Perhaps one of you would like to volunteer to leave your protected walls and venture out into the battlefields? Speak up, elders, magisters. I welcome any volunteer.”
Once again, Ari spoke into silence. “As I thought.” Several elders seated in front shrank from his biting contempt.
“Elders, it
is imperative we dispatch our rides no later than noon tomorrow. Timing is critical to our survival as a self-governing planet and we have little time. I cannot disclose my sources or any further details to the general body at this time. Believe me when I tell you my sources are impeccable. Our peril is real and imminent.” Ari sat.
“What were you thinking?” Fleur hissed.
Ari shrugged. “I wanted to get their attention.”
“Well, you have it.”
Voices exploded in a babble of hysteria. Elder Patricio stood again and faced the assembly, pounding his fist fiercely on the lectern. “You will come to order! Silence!” Sound slowly died to a sibilant whisper then, finally, to silence.
“The heads of the three divisions of the High Enclave, Elder Kittredge, Elder Eirdale and Docenti Fourisone, remain. The rest of you are free to leave for the moment. Do not go far. Each of you will compile recommendations for persons to accompany our cavalry. We will reconvene this afternoon to determine our best candidates and course of action. The ringing of the central tower bells will call you back. Thank you, elders.”
The council chamber was filled with the chaotic jumble of voices, chairs scraping, and footsteps descending the steps to the exits.
* * * * *
“… and those are the critical points, according to Admiral Lockwood, and from the information we were able to gather ourselves.” Ari watched as Doral's gaze swept a concerned group of eyes. Doral had been speaking for two hours. Something of a record for him. If nothing else, that should indicate the seriousness of our situation.
“Our last information from Raegill II indicated only two of the League Council Chairs and the Secretary General remained uncommitted until after the reception planned for…” Doral paged through an events schedule. “Three weeks from yesterday. The remainder will vote to classify Verdantia a protectorate under Augoust Herrimon’s control. We must move with haste to re-establish our energy shields and isolate the questionable LFP marine squadrons in areas outside it. It is imperative this occur quickly and quietly. At the same time, we must move our cavalry units that are isolated outside the new energy walls inside them.”
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