Hers to Command

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Hers to Command Page 19

by Patricia A. Knight


  “I’m not worried,” she whispered. She looked at Ari and purred, “I will be disappointed if you can’t manage at least ten strokes, my husband.” Her voice turned husky. “For Verdantia.”

  “Three, I could manage three,” Ari gasped.

  “Eight,” she countered.

  “Five, he will do five. Won’t you, my Primo?” Doral promised in a thick voice, pushing Ari down toward Fleur’s open warmth, his broad hand guiding Ari’s cock toward her glistening wetness.

  “Five,” Ari grunted. “Five, yeah, five.” He braced himself on his hands, then elbows on either side of Fleur’s shoulders. All she saw was muscle. Doral followed Ari down until Ari’s cock seated fully in her hot wetness, filling her, stretching her. They could not blame her for her whimpers of, “Good, so good, more, Ari, more.”

  “One—doesn’t that—count—as one?” Ari choked out.

  “No,” Fleur and Doral groaned in unison.

  Ari panted through clenched teeth. Doral slid his cock back a few inches.

  His thighs trembled, threatening to give out at the pleasure multiplying upon itself as Doral’s thickness slid past the sensitive nerves of his sphincter muscles and the ball of Doral’s piercing rubbed a spot insanely sensitive.

  “By the seven hells, man!” Ari choked.

  Doral held himself at his very entrance for a heartbeat then pulled Ari’s hips back with a grunted command of “Move.” As Ari withdrew from Fleur, the tight walls of her pussy stroking his overwrought erection, Ari impaled himself on Doral’s cock. The heavy grip of Doral’s hands on his hips forced Ari to sink back into Fleur, Doral’s heavy shaft sliding outward again. Ari didn’t care how it sounded. He whimpered.

  “That’s one.” Doral choked heavily.

  “Ari can’t answer you,” Fleur purred, her voice coming from somewhere underneath him. “You count for him.”

  Ari stroked out and in again.

  “Two,” Doral said.

  Ari moved again, unable to maintain his coordination, his arms trembling, his motions jerky. Small animal sounds escaped his mouth.

  “Three,” Doral said on a tortured groan.

  Ari’s hips retreated and thrust. “End this. By the gods… I’m begging.”

  “Four.” Doral’s voice struggled to be anything other than a grunt. “I am going to come next time you pull back, Ari.”

  With a feral snarl of “Five,” Ari slid his hips back then forcefully slammed forward into Fleur. The booming, rumbling bass notes of the diamantorre obscured his scream of climax.

  Doral followed him down, his shaft pumping shallowly, filling Ari’s back passage with warmth. With every pass of Doral’s cock, Ari shuddered violently. The dual sensations of Fleur’s slippery warmth and Doral’s gentle surges prolonged and intensified his climax into an endless loop. The erotic pressure built until Ari could not stop his roar of mindless release as Doral’s own filled his ears.

  Ari collapsed, insensate.

  He floated in the timeless, amorphous, dark mass he knew as Verdantia’s sentience. Ari was not alone. Another intellect shared his blackness, shared his awareness of Her. A gossamer thread of brilliant white floated through his senses, linking him to—Doral! He could feel the other man’s wonder. Then all was obliterated by Her voice.

  My children. Approval.

  Echoes of thought trailed through his mind. Then She faded, leaving behind the pulsing white thread connecting them and a trailing streak of fragile paleness he not been aware of immediately.

  Satisfaction. Female child.

  Radiance suffused the shapeless blackness. Three glowing orbs in the shape of a triangle, circled slowly linked by gossamer threads of white brilliance.

  My children. United.

  “The Tetriarch,” whispered through his senses. A sensation of euphoric enlightenment inundated his mind. Then—nothing.

  He surfaced to awareness when he heard Fleur’s muffled squeak, “I need air, air,” accompanied by the small assault of her hands.

  “Doral, we are suffocating Fleur, roll over,” Ari groaned.

  He hissed as Doral pulled out of him and slid to the side. “By the Seven Hells, my ass is going to hurt,” Ari growled as he pushed off Fleur, wincing.

  “I have heard that complaint before. I keep a supply of herbal balm you can use. It will relieve much of your soreness.”

  “With that horse cock of yours, I’ll need a life-time supply.” Ari groaned, shifting in discomfort.

  Doral opened one eyelid and eyed him. “Regrets?” he murmured hesitantly.

  “None. As soon as my sore ass recovers, we can do it again.” Ari grinned. “Maybe we can last longer than five strokes,” he teased. “This was not our proudest hour.”

  “No,” Doral chuckled, sharing his amusement. “Not even close.”

  “I would like to see you take Doral, my husband.”

  Fleur’s murmur had both of them turning to look at her. She lay flat on her back, eyes closed, a blissful expression stamped on her face. Opening her eyes, she propped herself up on her elbows and smiled sweetly. “It arouses me.”

  “We noticed,” Doral said dryly. “I think.”

  They looked at each other and started to laugh.

  “So much for leaving you behind,” Doral snorted.

  Fleur shrugged her shoulders and smiled more broadly. “Lucky me.”

  Ari sobered and lay back thinking of how to describe what he had experienced. Propping up on an elbow, he caught Doral looking at him with a peculiar expression.

  “At the end… did you?” Doral murmured.

  “Yes. I did.” Ari gathered Fleur into his arms.

  Doral appeared stunned. “What was it?”

  “It was Her, Verdantia,” Ari answered.

  Doral shook his head, his heavy blond hair flowing around his shoulders. “I thought that was just legend. She is real?”

  “Oh, yes.” He looked at Fleur’s questioning face then back to Doral. “The L’anziano were right. Our mother planet has joined us irreversibly. We are the second Tetriarch. ”

  Chapter Eight

  The triumvirate’s afternoons became an exploration of the different ways they could love each other. Thanks in no small part to Fleur, Ari and Doral acknowledged it was love making, not sex. Verdantia’s Senzienza never repeated the experience of earlier in the week. While he and Doral once again bathed in her amorphous intelligence, she never “spoke”. Ari couldn’t say he was disappointed. It was vastly unsettling. Doral did not want to discuss it at all and Fleur had not shared their experience. But knowledge of what happened lay like a silent bond between the three of them. Now they knew why each touch felt like a starburst of energy. It was.

  They explored every way to love each other but one.

  “No, you are not ready for that.” Ari kissed Fleur and spooned her closer to his front.

  Running his knuckle across her cheek, Doral concurred. “If you want to experience a little taste, I have a small anal plug you can experiment with.”

  Fleur huffed, disappointed. Untangling herself from Ari, she pushed up into a sitting position and crossed her arms. It was the third time she had asked and the third time they had refused. “I don’t understand why you think I am not ready,” she complained. “I have watched the two of you for three days, and, and—I want to try it,” she grumbled. “The ecstatic look on your faces is not pain. Is this some sort of ‘for men only’ thing?”

  Ari and Doral looked at each other and winced.

  “It is your turn to handle the uncomfortable questions, Doral.” Ari rolled on his back and closed his eyes. He congratulated himself for not laughing aloud at the dismay on Doral’s face. He had seen the man face a battle line of fully armed mercenaries with more composure.

  “The truth, kitten, is no matter how well we prepared you, with our size, initially it would hurt, perhaps more than you realize. At your first whimper of true pain, pain I caused you, it would unman me,” Doral declared awkwardly.

>   Fleur frowned. “What do you mean ‘unman’ you?”

  “I would lose my erection. Is that plain enough for you?” Doral muttered. “No—no—no. Don’t look at me like that, Fleur. Don’t you dare!” He groaned and flopped back, pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes. “Tears are unfair. You know I would hurt you. You are tiny and I am not. You could tear six different ways.” He shuddered and rolled back to his side. “I have watched it happen.”

  Holding Fleur in a desperate gaze, he continued, emphatically shaking his head. “Just, no—never. No. Never. Never. Never.”

  She sniffed dramatically and took a breath to speak. “Ari…”

  “No,” he replied, cutting her off before she truly began. “And you are fighting dirty. Doral doesn’t know your tears are theatric.”

  Her tear flow stopped immediately, replaced by a scowl. “But why? Give me a good reason.” She flung out her arms in irritation.

  “What he said.” Ari’s relaxed hand rose, a finger pointing in Doral’s general direction.

  Fleur scowled at Doral. “Wuss,” she huffed in frustration, crossing her arms across her chest. “I don’t believe you actually kill people.”

  “Good,” Doral growled in an undertone. “It is better if my targets are surprised.”

  Fleur rolled her eyes at the menace in his voice. “As if.”

  Ari lay with his eyes closed, valiantly trying to contain his amusement. He had always imagined Doral a lethal hunting cat, stealthy and deadly. Not only had Doral’s “kitten” jerked his whiskers, she had tied a knot in his tail and then whacked him with it.

  She expelled a disgruntled snort and flopped to her back. “Visconte, you are such a disappointment to me,” she snipped in annoyance.

  Silence settled over the trio for a few moments.

  “Fleur, I can’t stand the thought of causing you pain during sex, of causing any woman pain during sex. Do not ever ask me to.”

  Alerted by the tone of his voice she sat up and petted his chest, her fingers playing in the swirls of golden hair. “Doral, I am sorry I said that. You could never disappoint me. Please, Doral, you are a wonderful, gentle lover.”

  His own concern aroused, Ari propped himself up on one arm, watching their interaction.

  “No,” Doral whispered. “No. I am not.” He lay on his back with his arm flung over his eyes. He sat up abruptly, swinging his legs onto the floor and sat with his back to her. “You need to understand something about me, Fleur. I try to control it, but I am broken inside, unnatural, twisted. There is a part of me barely more than a savage animal.”

  He shook his head and covered his face with his hands. “Goddess, I never wanted to speak of this but you need to know. There are certain places I cannot go with you or Ari.”

  Ari sat up and slid back to lean against the headboard. “Does this have to do with House Contradina?”

  Doral nodded. Obviously struggling to master himself, he began.

  “My childhood was idyllic. My sister and I were precocious children exploring a bright world, protected and sheltered by our mother and father and their warm, generous love. I was a prince of a noble house with all its attendant privileges. I could not imagine any other life.”

  “I had just turned eighteen. I was called to the High Enclave to study advanced magicks. I was ridiculously proud to study in Sylvan Mintoth and could not go fast enough. At first, my short visits home were joyful celebrations and I returned to the High Enclave with a light heart.”

  “Midway through my fifth-levels, life changed. My beloved father died of lung consumption.” Doral’s voice became strained. “I stayed in Sylvan Mintoth and lost myself in my studies. Mother remarried. Her new husband was Hugo Sylvester Contradina. I rarely visited home. I did not like the man.”

  Fleur cast a worried, questioning look toward Ari. He shook his head and shrugged gently.

  “I first noticed a change in my mother and sister when I finally returned home between terms the spring of my seventh-level year. I was twenty-two. I was appalled at how thin and worn mother had become. She was still stunningly beautiful. She had always been, but now she looked transparent, insubstantial. My sister, equally lovely, was hollow-eyed and nervous, flinching away at any physical touch, even mine.”

  “When I left to return to Sylvan Mintoth a few days later, I got, perhaps, four hours down the road before I turned around and rode back. I entered my mother’s chambers to tell her I had returned. Contradina had her tied to the bed, nude. He was brutalizing her. He kept screaming at her to grovel, to beg. Mother saw me and remained silent. I lost the contents of my stomach.” Doral stood and walked to a window, looking out sightlessly.”

  “Hugo never hid that he enjoyed young men. I offered myself as long as he stayed away from my mother and my sister. I remember thinking my physical appearance was finally worth something.”

  “I never returned to the High Enclave. I barely survived the next year.” His lips quirked up in a humorless smile. “I was relatively innocent. I had not acquired the skill set I possess now.” Looking at the ceiling, he reflected tonelessly, “Pride is so stupid. He kept demanding I beg. I remained mute, remembering my mother’s silence. How could I do less?” Doral shrugged. “Of course, ultimately, I begged. Ultimately, I did many things I told him I would never do.”

  Doral cleared his throat and continued matter-of-factly. “It took him fourteen long months to renege on our agreement.”

  “One night I entered the small cottage some distance from the main house where he regularly took his “pleasure” of me to find my mother, again, tied to the bed. Hugo held Sophillia at knifepoint. He told me I had my choice of how I used my mother. He didn’t care as long as I made it painful, with my sister’s life forfeit if I refused.” Doral drew circles with his finger on the windowsill. “Had I realized how easy it was, I would have killed him much sooner.”

  “I left our holdings that night, certain I would be arrested for murder. My timing was wretched. The Haarb overran our estates the next day. I was a hundred miles away.”

  “Everyone assumed Hugo died defending my mother and sister.” Doral stood quietly for a few moments, introspective.

  “When I returned to our estates, the dead were unidentifiable. I don’t know whom I buried in the family crypt. But I could not bury the fact I was not there when those I loved most in the world needed me. I was running away.”

  A bitterly ironic smile tipped his lips. “I joined our counter-intelligence.” He laughed grimly. “More wretched timing. My unit was ultimately assigned to Lady Allegra Contradina, Hugo’s sister. My cursed looks drew me to her attention and then she learned my name.”

  “She was a far worse monster than her brother. I thought about deserting—but she had knowledge I wanted so I stayed. I learned. Never again would I be helpless.” His dispassionate voice was at odds with the stunning content of his words.

  “It seems I have a unique aptitude for killing people—though I could never do it slowly or painfully enough to suit Allegra.”

  “My body displays the results of three years of her sexual sadism.” Doral shrugged slightly. “I was her creature, her abomination.”

  An empty silence filled the room.

  “I could endure what she did to me.” His voice was a thread of a whisper. “But what I did to others at her order I can neither forget nor forgive myself for.”

  Fleur silently crawled into Ari’s lap and wrapped her arms around his waist. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Ari enfolded her in his arms and laid his cheek on the crown of her head.

  “The day I rode out of our unit’s headquarters, reassigned to our Verdantian High Lord and Supreme Joint Commander, Conte Camliel Aristos DeTano, I don’t really think I could be called human. It had been years since I had allowed myself the luxury of feelings.”

  Doral crossed back to the bed and sat on its edge. He looked at Ari and Fleur over his shoulder. “I entered your campaign tent that first day, Ari, and you turned and smi
led at me, told me your name…” The visconte swallowed audibly. “My heart lurched in my chest. I wasn’t totally dead, after all. I knew fear the like of which, well…” He smiled faintly.

  “And you, kitten. You.” Doral shook his head. “Gentle, fearfully delicate. So intensely desirable.”

  “I wanted you so fiercely. I was afraid to touch you. Afraid I would lose control and unleash this bestial fiend inside me. Our first time, I came terribly close to doing that. I will never forget the look fear that I put on your face.” He clenched his jaw rigidly, his eyes tightly closed. He stood again. His arms hung loose at his sides. “I am an abhorrent animal, Fleur. I have done unspeakable things.” He choked slightly. “It is a given I will disappoint you.”

  Ari made to rise. Fleur left his lap hastily. She flew to Doral, wrapping herself around him tightly. Tears streamed freely down her face. “I am sorry, Doral. I am so very, very sorry. I could cut out my tongue. I didn’t mean it. Please, Doral!” She caressed his cheek. “My sweet man, don’t ever doubt I love you. I do. By the Goddess, I do.”

  Doral stood motionless and allowed her to pet him.

  Ari enveloped both of them in a tight embrace. “Doral, I know who you are. There is no action you could take that would drive me away or change what I feel for you.” Doral shuddered slightly and returned Ari’s hold. “You are my lethal blade. Yet, in the entire length of your service to me, I have never seen you act with intentional cruelty to anyone or anything. I cannot imagine the abuse you endured to have so altered your basic nature.”

  Doral rested his forehead against Ari’s neck. “Until you, sex has never been about soft touches of gentle regard, of pleasure, of, gods help me, love. Don’t ever ask me to hurt you, kitten. Don’t ever ask me to hurt you.”

  Ari and Fleur stood holding Doral for a long time as the man the outside world knew as a fearsome assassin silently came undone in their arms.

  * * * * *

  Fleur paced rigidly in the soft light of the library, her fists clenched at her sides. A cold rage burned inside her with an acid fury.

 

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