At the Mercy of Her Pleasure

by Kayelle Allen

  “Deal?”

  “He made me swear I wouldn't have sex.”

  “What? He pumped you full of Shackle and made you promise?”

  “Like either one did me any good around you!”

  Speechless, NarrAy moved back a bit. I guess I did come on pretty strong.

  “He said if I obeyed, he'd buy Khyff and free him. What was I supposed to do? I had to put my brother first. Besides, I didn't even know you then.”

  “But Khyff's free now.”

  “Well, I'm not.” Senth threw the note aside and pushed to his feet. “And when my master finds out what I've done, he will punish me.”

  She climbed to her feet. “Senth, I…”

  “He threatened once to apprentice me to another master. Or sell me.”

  “I don't want to lose you, Senth. I'm sure we can work something out.”

  “Work something out?” He laughed ruefully. “With him? Are you crazy! You don't work things out with that man. You obey him. Or else.”

  “But, Senth, he'll listen to reason. We…”

  “Reason?” A muscle in his jaw flexed. His lips tightened. “Do you know what happens to people who defy him?”

  NarrAy thought back to the dossier Broxus had given her. No one speaks up against him—never tied to murder—police can't get a snitch close.

  Senth leaned toward her. “There are reasons no one talks, NarrAy. Most of the time, they don't even say his ffffftting name!”

  What have I done? If that man so much as touches Senth…

  “He can't take you from me, Senth. I won't let him.”

  “No one stops him from doing anything he wants to do.” He turned away, shoulders hunched, defeated.

  “I won't abandon you, I swear it! No matter what Saint-Cyr does.” She reached for his hand.

  He stepped back, angling away from her touch. “You don't understand. You don't know what he's capable of. Your glimpse of him was all business and propriety. He was in a good mood because he got what he wanted.”

  “It doesn't matter. I swear we'll be together. We'll get through this. I love you, Senth. Saint-Cyr can't do anything about that.”

  “I shouldn't have complained, NarrAy.” His eyes were wide, the fear in them real. “It always gets back to him if I do anything wrong or say something I shouldn't have. I don't know why I thought I could get away with it this time.”

  “I'll never say a word, Senth, trust me. I won't tell him.”

  “No, it's all right.” His pupils had dilated to fully open. A false smile crossed his weary face. “I have to tell him myself. I have to tell him when I've disobeyed.”

  NarrAy shivered at the sound of Senth's flat voice, repeating words he'd memorized. Brox's warning came back to her: the effects of Shackle and Senth's overdose combined with the possibility of mind control.

  “I don't want to displease my master. I know what happens when I displease him.”

  His glassy-eyed expression made her flinch inside. “Senth, sit down, and let's talk about this.”

  “No, I want to obey him, NarrAy. I know what his rules are and I feel good when I comply. This job has to be a success. I don't want to anger him.”

  The chill running up her spine had nothing to do with room temperature. “What does that monster do to you, Senth?”

  “I'm his slave. He has every right to discipline me.”

  “I won't let him hurt you, Senth. He's not going to hurt you. I promise.”

  He shook his head, backing away from her. He opened the door and paused. “I need to think, NarrAy. I'm going for a walk.”

  “I'll come with you.”

  “No, I need to think.”

  “But, I…”

  The door shut in her face.

  * * * *

  Tarth, Tarth City

  Imperial Palace, Stable—Sample Level

  Pleasure Room Three

  Destoiya pushed Khyff's shirt aside, kissing each spot of bared chest. They'd kissed for the last hour, tasting each other's mouths in every way possible. She never hurried with the new ones.

  Anticipation made even straight sex a feast.

  Khyff shivered beneath her touch.

  “I know what you are, love.” She pressed her lips against a tiny white scar. “What you've been trained to do.”

  She kissed another scar revealed when she peeled back his shirt farther.

  “This time, it's all for you. I want to give you pleasure.”

  She moved so that he could look into her eyes when he lay back. A pillow cradled his head.

  “I love seeing a man writhe beneath me. Watching him give up his will when passion overtakes him.”

  Khyff squirmed, but obeyed her previous command not to touch her.

  “You're doing so well, Khyff. I love making you act docile when I know you'd rather tear off my clothes and thrust into me.”

  His heated whimper agreed.

  “In time, love. You'll love having that long, thick cock of yours inside me.” She stroked a finger down his jaw. “Into my heat. And I am going to milk you so dry, your balls will ache for days.”

  Destoiya took his mouth in a hot kiss.

  Khyff relaxed his tongue, accepting her dominion over his mouth.

  His submission jolted heat down to her toes. She dragged her tongue down Khyff's chin, licked along his arched throat, across his chest and down the hard ridges of his belly.

  You're quivering from my touch, aren't you, my fine jade? Mmm, all this luscious skin, mine to taste. I'm going to lap you up the way a cat laps up cream.

  Circling his navel, she dipped her tongue into it, then licked her way back up to his broad shoulders. She stroked his blond chest hair, slid her fingers through it.

  When she set her lips over one of his nipples and sucked it into her mouth, he gave a strangled cry and clutched the bedsheets on either side of him.

  Oh, yes, my beautiful jade. Show me your strength. Show me how much you ache to get inside me.

  His labored breathing and clenched fists spoke eloquently of denied passion. Most of her jades would have spurted their seed by now. This one mastered himself despite the torture of her hands on him or her mouth's demands.

  You'll soon be begging to thrust that hard rod inside me. She smiled down at him. I always make my jades beg. It reminds them who's in charge.

  If she but touched his quivering shaft, he'd come in her hand. Jades always did after being teased this long. Destoiya pressed her mouth against his and held her cupped fingers above his rigid sex, close enough to feel his heat through his clothes.

  He whimpered into her open mouth, his cry a wordless plea for release. When she drew back, Khyff begged with his eyes.

  “Get them off.” The Conqueror made a laconic gesture, indicating her soaked bikini panties, and lay back against the bed pillows. “No hands.”

  He rose on his knees, braced his hands on either side of her waist and stroked his tongue up under the side of her panties.

  “And, Khyff.”

  He looked up at her with expectant eyes, the bikinis held between his teeth.

  She smiled. “No rush, love. I'm far from done with you.”

  * * * *

  Khyff groaned. Demon! You hot, cock-teasing … his throat ached with pent up frustration. His balls drew up hard against him, shaft throbbing. “Yes, Majesty.”

  He clenched his teeth over the elastic band of her white panties and tugged. The scent of her arousal, a woman's carnality, shot through him. He wanted to bury his face against her curls. Inhale her womanly fragrance and lick up the taste of her with his tongue.

  With a taunting smile, she gestured him to continue.

  Think I'm tame, do you? He dragged her panties down one hip, moved to clasp the other side with his teeth. Wait till you get my cock in you. You won't want me docile then.

  Khyff inched the panties down her shapely legs, then dropped them over the side of the bed.

  Destoiya sat up cross-legged, and made a circling motion
with one hand. “Turn around. Sit with your back to me.”

  He obeyed, his head halfway turned toward her.

  “I know you don't like being forced.” The heat of her fingers on his shoulders sent shivers over him. “I could restrain you, Khyff, bend you to my will.”

  Before he could respond, she pulled his shirt down his arms and back, capturing his hands behind him.

  “But I'd rather you submit on your own.”

  She held him there, imprisoning his hands with no more than a piece of cloth and the knowledge that Senth's life might lay in his ability to please.

  He knew she was looking at his scars. The fresh marks of Stalkos' rage.

  Would she send him away? Or mark him more herself? He'd seen the manacles and chain in the bathroom. No illusions about her desires.

  She'd already chained and used him against his will in the cell.

  Please, don't touch me where he hit me. Please, don't—He jerked as if burnt when her fingers slid across the fresh stripes.

  “You enjoy this.” A long pause. “It's all right to admit it, Khyff. I can already tell.”

  His clients always wanted him to say it. Wanted him to declare his recoil meant lust instead of anger.

  “Tell me how it makes you feel, Khyff.” The tip of her tongue teased his sensitive flesh. “Talk me through your pleasure.”

  He ground his teeth together. Come on, slake. Put on your street face and let her use you.

  “Your touch is hot, Majesty. It scorches me.”

  “Good. That's an excellent start.” She gripped his crossed hands, still bound with his shirt. “Tell me more. Tell me what your body's experiencing right now.”

  Destoiya's cool lips slid across the diagonal stripes on his back.

  Khyff sucked in a harsh breath, fighting fury. “Fire.” He gasped. “Erotic fire.”

  She blew on his damp skin.

  He whimpered, unable to speak. Please, please stop.

  He knew she wouldn't. No one paid money to use him and then stopped just because he didn't want it. No client had ever stopped, no matter how much he fought. No matter how much he'd begged.

  He'd long since stopped fighting. They hurt him less when he just let them use him.

  “You like this, don't you?”

  Khyff jerked and shuddered under the relentless, gentle wet strokes of her tongue. He kept his eyes squeezed shut, lips bitten together.

  “Talk to me, love. What do you feel? I want your voice.”

  “My cock.” He forced the words out. “Pulsing. Throbbing.”

  “Good, Khyff. Tell me more.” While he talked to her, she handled him less.

  “Everything feels tight. My balls. My ass. My skin's on fire, everywhere. Everywhere you touch me, it burns.”

  “More.”

  “You want me to talk to you?” Was this his way out? A way to keep her from fondling him? “You want to know everything I would do to you?” Khyff turned his head toward her, waiting.

  “Everything.” She placed both hands on his shoulders.

  “It pleases you to have a man describe how he'll satisfy you.”

  “Yes.”

  “You want to hear every delicious way he'll tease your body.”

  “Oh, yes, Khyff. That's exactly what I want.”

  He turned to the front, his back fully to her. Her body radiated heat. “I'd start by surrendering my mouth.”

  “How?”

  “Your tongue would be my master. My lips would be your slave.”

  She mmmed against his skin, her tongue laving his back.

  He jerked forward. “I'd submit to your kisses as if they were wine and I wanted to drink them.”

  Destoiya's breath came fast, wet, and hot.

  “Your body would become my temple. I would worship you with my mouth, and my tongue, and my hands.”

  She slid the tip of her tongue up his neck, a wet lick of heat.

  “And every bit of my long, hard cock.”

  Destoiya pressed her lips against his nape and drew in air, cooling his skin.

  Khyff gasped. “Free my hands, Majesty. Let me take you in my arms.”

  “What would you do?” Destoiya held his wrists together, her mouth pressed against his shoulder. “Tell me.”

  “Bury my cock inside you. Deep.”

  “I like that. How deep, Khyff?”

  “All the way to your heart. So deep, you will never get me out.”

  The vibration of her moan tickled. “I like that. Go on.”

  “I would thrust into you until you begged me to let you come. And then I would make you come until you begged me to stop.”

  Her arms wrapped around him from behind, hugging his neck. “Tell me, Khyff,” she said, her voice feather soft against his ear, “can you outlast me?”

  He turned his head toward her. “I will try, my fallen angel.”

  She laughed with delight. “Fallen, am I?”

  “If you were an innocent, you wouldn't want the things I'll do to you.”

  She played with his hair. “But you did call me an angel.”

  “That was wrong of me.” He lowered his head. “You are a goddess, Majesty.”

  Her lips pressed against his cheek, mouth open. “And you're magnificent, Khyff.” Destoiya's fingers trailed across his back. “Your last master … did he give you these scars?”

  “Most of them.”

  “Who else then?”

  “Clients.”

  “I'm so sorry, Khyff.”

  Brutality, he could handle. Her gentleness unnerved him.

  “Some of them paid him extra so they could mark me.”

  The bed moved when she knelt behind him. She slid her arms around his neck, set her mouth near his ear. “What a small-minded idiot he was.”

  He was unable to speak with her so close to him.

  Destoiya combed her fingers through his hair, pulling his head back against her shoulder. One of her hands slid down his chest, fingers raking the hair there.

  “You're priceless, Khyff. A rare, valuable, sumptuous beauty of a man.”

  He closed his eyes, soaking up the words, even if she didn't mean them.

  She leaned over his shoulder and covered his mouth with hers, and he pressed his lips up against hers, surrendering himself.

  She released his mouth, pulled away the shirt binding his hands, and scooted back on the bed. “I want you inside me.”

  Khyff stood long enough to drop his pants, then turned around.

  Destoiya leaned back on her elbows, legs apart. “Now.”

  He wedged himself between her willing thighs.

  Pearly liquid coated her labia, drenched her curls. He angled his shaft against her, and slid inside the fist-tight heat of her dripping sheath.

  Destoiya lay back, taking him in with body and eyes. “You may touch me.”

  He set her knees across the inside of his elbows and pistoned into her, rocking his pelvis hard as he slammed against her.

  He reached around her legs and pulled her labia wide apart, exposing her clitoris to his gaze. It peeked from its hood, glistening and erect.

  She gasped when he withdrew his cock. He read the surprise in her eyes when he knelt between her outstretched legs and lowered his mouth to her. She'd thought he'd come the moment he got inside her.

  She knew what he could do, all right, but not what he could keep from doing.

  Khyff lowered his lips over her labia and pressed a soft kiss on her steaming skin.

  Destoiya wriggled toward him, opening her legs wider, knees drawing back.

  He set both hands under the small of her back and lifted her toward him. He stroked his tongue across her clit's hood, teasing her. She flinched up against him. A pleasure sound escaped her.

  Khyff set his pursed lips over her clit and sipped. He laughed to himself when her back bowed as she arched up into his mouth. Her legs trembled.

  “You are delicious, Majesty. Salty. Sweet.”

  He settled onto his stomac
h, his erection an agony of sensation against the sheets. Bringing both hands back to her labia, he held her lips between forefingers and thumbs, alternately pulling them apart and pressing them together.

  She clutched the pillow beneath her head.

  He let the tip of his tongue dart up under her clit while he stretched her labia. He wagged the flat of his tongue across her lips, spreading her open, and stroked upward, coming up under her clit and flicking it with the tip of his tongue as he completed the movement.

  Destoiya moaned. “Khyff.”

  He pressed up against her, tilted his head, opened his mouth over her—and hummed.

  She clasped both hands in his hair to hold him in place. He stayed there, humming, while she climaxed.

  Khyff slid a finger inside her, moved it out, then pushed in two.

  The tip of his tongue lightly tapped her clit, then forced it up, sliding under its hood. She arched against him, shoving herself against his mouth. His tongue lifted her swollen clit, let it fall, and then lifted it again. And again.

  She thrashed on the bed.

  He grinned. Added a third finger.

  Khyff hooked those three fingers inside her and pressed up, dragged them toward her opening. She convulsed around his fingers, head thrown back. He did it again. Flexed them while she came some more.

  A fourth finger stretched her.

  Destoiya grabbed the headboard and levered herself harder against his hand, her quivering slit milking his fingers. Her clit twitched against his tongue. He sucked the jerking nub into his mouth.

  She screamed. “Khyff,” she demanded hoarsely. “Khyff! Put it in me. I want your cock in me. Now!”

  He withdrew his fingers and rose over her, sliding his shaft into her open slit. Gripping her buttocks, he tilted her body and rode into her hard, fast.

  The quake of her vagina clutched him. Milked him. Slick. Burning. Raw. He pounded her. Rocked her. Jarred her body. Her breasts bounced.

  He rubbed a palm against one of her nipples and she exploded around him, screaming.

  Frantic panting. His, hers. Release. Relief. Rest.

  Khyff remained inside her while he rolled over and drew her on top of him, into his arms. He dragged in a breath. He was still hard.