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The Empress' New Clothes

Page 22

by Jaid Black


  Jera flushed, clearly realizing she had gone beyond too far. And yet she continued to make demands. Kyra couldn’t get over the woman’s nerve. She was either brazen as all hell or stupider than Kyra didn’t know what. She guessed it was a combination of both.

  “You can’t possibly expect me to stay to my rooms during the whole of our stay!” she wailed. “I needs must come out sometime!”

  “Make certain I see you not,” Zor replied in a low rumble, and then he emphasized, “at all.”

  Jera scowled, but nodded her consent, then made to leave the great hall.

  “And Jera,” Zor called out, his tone cool and remote. “If you speak of my nee’ka or panis again in such treasonous terms you will be sentenced as any betrayer would.” At her gasp, he said simply, “remember who holds all power over life and death in this world, indeed in the whole of the galaxy, before any more words next leak from your black-hearted lips.”

  Rem watched as his wife stomped off to their suite, then turned to Zor and blew out a breath. “I apologize, brother, for Jera’s words. She is not a kind soul, as you must have surmised.”

  “Zor does not hold you responsible for Jera’s tongue,” Kil gently informed their youngest brother.

  Zor grunted his agreement. “If I did that, both of you would have been sent down to the gulch pits many moon-risings ago.” He shook his head sadly. “The goddess knows I have bit my tongue on more than one occasion, telling myself to leave it be out of respect for the fact that she is your nee’ka. Leastways, I did before learning of how she came to be your nee’ka.”

  Rem’s eyes strayed toward Kyra. His gaze flicked over her form, lingering at her engorged breasts. “’Twas my own fool-headedness and for that I needs pay.”

  “No warrior needs pay for a lifetime, Rem,” Kil argued. “I vow, why have you not sent the she-bitch to a different palace, that you need not look upon her wily face?”

  Rem sighed, his eyes shuffling from Kyra’s breasts to Kil’s face. “The main palace on Sypar is huge. I rarely see her. She keeps to her rooms with her lovers and I keep to mine with my bound servants and Kefas.”

  Zor shook his head and sighed. “’Tis sad, that.”

  Rem shrugged absently. “’Tis life.” And then he added with a sarcastic grin. “’Tis my life leastways.”

  As the great hall grew silent while the men finished their meal, Kyra gnawed at her bottom lip and thought about Rem’s situation from every angle. Sighing, and praying her husband didn’t try to throttle her for what she was about to say without asking his permission first, she did as she thought was best and plowed onward. “Rem?”

  “Aye?” He looked up from his meal.

  “Would you like to meet Zora and Zara?”

  Kil stopped chewing mid-bite, his eyes widening. And yes, Zor definitely looked like he wanted to throttle her. Kyra’s belly clenched. Perhaps she had misread Rem. Maybe he didn’t want to get to know any children, even those of his own brother. She really should have spoken to Zor first.

  “Nee’ka,” Zor began in a chastising tone, “I think—”

  “Aye.”

  Jaws agape, Zor and Kil turned to Rem. “You—you do?” Zor asked hesitantly.

  “Aye.” Rem inclined his head, offering Kyra a grin. “I was beginning to wonder if ever you would ask.”

  Kyra expelled a breath of air she suspected she’d been holding in for a while. “Would you escort me to my apartments, then?” She smiled, trying to lessen the intensity of the moment. “Perhaps you can visit with the girls while I take care of a few things. I want to get ready for Geris’s arrival tomorrow so she can have a more comfortable hatching than I did.” She shot a look over to Zor that clearly said she still held him responsible for her own horrific hatching experience.

  Zor grimaced, not caring to argue with his nee’ka when he had but a few hours more before he could sample of her charms.

  “I would be honored to escort you,” Rem answered her in gallant tones as he rose to his feet. “I am given to understand by servant talk that my nieces possess your rare mane of hair, but are of Q’an Tal eyes and bronzed coloring.”

  “A light bronze, but yeah.” Kyra grinned. “They’re gorgeous.”

  “I’ll go see the babes as well,” Kil announced, rising to stand. “Wee Zara gets a temper with me if I stay from her sights o’er long.”

  Zor chuckled. “’Tis true, she does.” He inclined his head in a lordly gesture. “Although both of my hatchlings prefer their papa’s handsome face above all others,”—Kyra rolled her eyes at his arrogant claim, the truth or not—“’tis for a certainty wee Zara sees something in the dunce none other is able to glean.”

  Kil grunted.

  Kyra giggled. “You’re just jealous because, unlike Zora, you have competition where Zara is concerned.”

  Zor scoffed at the notion. “From this lackwit? Harrumph.”

  Twenty minutes later, Zor was crossing his arms over his chest and scowling formidably at his turncoat hatchlings. Both of them. Where Zara had taken an affectation toward Kil, Zora had also found a favored uncle in Rem. “Ingrates,” he muttered, though he was grinning when he said it.

  Zor knew his panis preferred him above all others, so there was naught but goodness that could come of sharing their love with two hardened warriors who desperately needed it.

  Chapter 28

  When the final countdown was over and a full fortnight had passed, Zor was more than a little disgruntled not to find his nee’ka on the royal bed, naked and waiting for him, her legs spread wide open, and her channel eager to accept his thrusts. Every muscle in his body was clenched in anticipation, his jaw was rigid, his erection painful. And Kyra and her wicked breasts were not in the one place they should be.

  Zor sighed, groaning as he fell onto the bed. He had made it to the final moments of the tortuous two weeks, only to be lured by the sand muse to his death. He clapped a hand to his forehead and moaned. He was dying for a certainty.

  “All that moaning sounds like you’re starting without me.”

  Zor’s eyes shot open to the delicious sight of his nee’ka climbing up onto the raised bed, settling her and her two jiggling moosoos astride him. “Ah, wee one,” he sighed, “how I have dreamed of this moon-rising.”

  Kyra smiled coyly down to him, feeling utterly feminine and carnal. She loved this new erotic power that she held over Zor. It never failed to amaze her that so powerful a warrior would want her…plain old Kyra the tax accountant. Plain old Kyra with, uh, the big bazooms.

  Rubbing her wet labia back and forth over the erection bulging from her husband’s leather pants, she felt her belly knot with arousal at the sound of his deep growl. “Do you like that?” she whispered thickly.

  “Oh—pani, aye.”

  She smiled. “I’ve missed you calling me that.”

  Zor sucked in his breath when Kyra rotated her hips, grinding her pelvis deeper into his. “You don’t like mani, my hearts?”

  “Yes, but not in bed.” Kyra ground harder, while simultaneously rubbing her hands over her engorged breasts. She closed her eyes and massaged them all over, secreting away a smile when she heard his breathing grow choppier. “In bed,” she admitted breathlessly, “I like for you to make me feel dirty and wicked, submissive and dominated.”

  “Play with your nipples,” Zor commanded her in a low murmur.

  “Mmm. You like that?” Kyra took each nipple between her thumbs and forefingers, expertly massaging them as she continued to grind her hips into Zor’s stiff arousal. He sucked in his breath and ground back. “You’re always so quick to summon away my clothes, husband. Why don’t you summon away yours?”

  As quick as a flash, their positions were reversed, with Kyra flat on her back and Zor’s fully clothed form settled between her splayed thighs. He returned the torture Kyra had dealt him in spades, grinding his erection against her drenched labia, offering her enough friction on her clit to become aroused, but not enough for release. Kyra threw
her head back and moaned in delicious agony.

  “You are greedy for my cock, wench?” Zor asked the question in a dark, commanding rumble. Rotating his hips, he ground them enough to deepen the friction against her clit. She gasped. “Answer me.”

  “Yes. Oh god—please.”

  “Are you begging me to sample of your charms?”

  “Yes.”

  Zor ground his hips into her again, the leather of his pants getting drenched from her arousal. “I am not convinced. Beg me again.”

  “Please.” She clutched at his forearms as she writhed in need underneath him, her nails digging into his skin. “Please. Please. Please.”

  Zor used but one massive hand to hold both of Kyra’s smaller ones captive over her head. She tried to break free, desperate to tear at his clothing.

  Zor smiled with a predator’s satisfaction as his wee nee’ka tried to loosen his grip on her hands. ‘Twas like the hands of a babe trying to dislodge him. He rotated his hips again and reveled in her pleading moans. “Do you deserve to feel my rod thrusting into your tight little channel?” he asked arrogantly. “Have all of your thoughts this day been of how to please me?”

  “Yes! Zor please—I can’t take it!” Kyra moaned in agony.

  Zor bent his head to lick away a stray tear, summoning his clothes away in the process. He positioned his stiff erection at the juncture of her channel, still holding her hands prisoner above her head. “Is this what you want, nee’ka?” he asked thickly.

  “Yes.” Kyra groaned when Zor bent his head again, this time to swipe his tongue across her jutting nipples. “Please.”

  “Then ‘tis yours.” Clenching his jaw, Zor embedded himself into Kyra’s cunt in one long thrust. She climaxed instantly. “Mmm. Aye, pani. Milk my cock with your woman’s tremors.” Offering her body a series of hard, deep thrusts, his breathing grew labored at the exquisite tightness. “Kyra.”

  Kyra thrust her hips up, eager for more. “Oh yes—oh god, yes.” Needing to feel him embedded deeper within her, Kyra wrapped her legs around his waist and settled in for a hard ride.

  “Is this what you want?” Zor growled, thrusting into her pussy faster and faster, pounding into her channel possessively. He craned his neck and took one plumped up nipple into his mouth to draw from. Groaning, he gorged of it.

  “Oh god—YES!” Kyra peaked violently, moaning loud enough to be heard throughout the palace corridors. She rotated her hips, meeting every stroke he gave her with a primitive need. “I need more,” she gasped. “Do it. You know what I want.”

  Zor pounded into her flooded channel faster, harder, mercilessly. His strokes were primal and territorial, branding her of him. The sound of perspiration-soaked skin slapping against perspiration-soaked skin sounded throughout the bedchamber. “Do you beg for my seed, nee’ka? Do you want the High King who owns this lusty channel to give you another of his hatchlings?”

  “Yes. Oh please. Give it to me!”

  Gritting his teeth, Zor thrust into Kyra like an animal. He took her ruthlessly, binding her flesh to his as the bridal necklace had bound their emotions and lives together. “Your pleasure is mine, nee’ka.” Lowering his head to gorge of her breasts, Zor spurt his life-force deep within her womb, inducing the stones in the necklace to pulse.

  Kyra threw her head back and screamed, convulsing with the ceaseless climaxes that her husband’s gorging made even more ferocious than usual. Zor roared low in his throat, his body peaking violently while he continued to gorge.

  As the intensity of the joining wound down, Zor grunted with the satisfaction of a male maki beast that had caught his prey and feasted well. He kept himself firmly embedded within his Sacred Mate as he rolled onto his back and bade Kyra to rest on top of him.

  “Mmm.” Kyra grinned, propping herself up on her elbows to gaze down at him. “That was wonderful.” Zor kneaded her sekta pearl buttocks as he studied Kyra’s face with an intensity that almost frightened her. His nostrils were flaring, the muscles in his neck tightly corded. “Zor? What is it? What’s wrong?”

  “Do not ever think to leave me, nee’ka. I will not allow it. I would hunt you down and return you to my bed always. Tell me you would not ever make me do this.”

  Kyra was startled by his fiercely impassioned plea. Although it had been issued in Zor’s typically autocratic fashion, she recognized it for what it was…insecurity. Why he would feel this way, she hadn’t any notion, but she refused to allow him to worry over something that would never come to pass. “Zor,” she whispered, running a hand over his jaw, “I would never, ever leave you. Never.”

  He grunted, somewhat appeased. “Tell me then that you love me.”

  “I love you. Very, very much.” Kyra scowled when his only reply was another egotistical grunt. “And?” she wailed.

  Zor found his first grin. “You’ll do.”

  “I’ll do?” Kyra punched him in the arm, huffing.

  Laughing, Zor grabbed her fist, clutching it in his massive one. Growing serious, he whispered very meaningfully, “I love you, nee’ka. Now and forever, there is only you.”

  “Oh, Zor.” Kyra craned her neck, bending down to kiss him full on the mouth. Sighing her content, she thrust her tongue between his lips and kissed him languidly. They tasted of each other for long minutes, then Zor began to use his powers to move her up and down the length of his shaft. “Mmm. On earth we have an expression for this, you know.”

  “Aye?”

  Kyra nodded. “Uh huh.”

  “What is it?”

  “’A hard man is good to find.’”

  Zor grinned. “’Tis lucky for you then that I shall be availing myself of your lusty channel every day and every moon-rising for the next three weeks.”

  Kyra’s brow wrinkled. “Only for the next three weeks?”

  He sighed like a martyr. “Aye.” Zor resumed his kneading of her buttocks as a thoughtful look permeated his features. “After you hatch this time, though, I want to wait mayhap another six months or so before getting you with another pani.”

  “W-What?” Kyra shot up. Still impaled, she sat fully astride him. “You gave me another baby?” she shrieked.

  “Aye.” Zor nodded arrogantly. “What think you of ten or eleven more?”

  “Ten or elev—Zor! I just gave birth two weeks ago!”

  “’Twas bliss, aye?”

  “No!” she screeched. “It hurt like hell!” Kyra huffed, her arms crossing under her breasts. “Good grief. Why didn’t you ask me?”

  “I did!” Zor bellowed, hurt by what he perceived as a rejection of his hatchling. “I asked you did you want another, you said aye, and so I gorged whilst I gave to you my life-force.”

  “I thought it was a rhetorical question to get me hot!” Kyra clapped a hand to her forehead. She was getting a headache. “Wait a minute. Are you saying that you got me pregnant by gorging while you came inside of me?”

  “Aye.”

  “Then how did you get me pregnant the first time?”

  Zor sighed. ‘Twas the only time he resented his nee’ka’s primitive upbringing, when forced to answer such lackwitted questions. “We coupled, pani.”

  “I know that!” Kyra fumed, huffing her disgruntlement. She held up a palm like a talisman for sanity. “What I mean is, how did I get pregnant if you need to gorge to do it?”

  “Ah, that.” Zor waved a hand dismissively. “There is no controlling the first time, leastways none that I know of. You simply get with a pani sac when you do, much like on your earth I would imagine.” At Kyra’s nod, he continued. “‘Tis after you’ve hatched and are gorged that we can control how many more panis you hatch and when you hatch them.”

  Kyra was curious despite herself. Her brow furrowed curiously. “How so?”

  Zor shrugged absently. “’Tis simple, really. If I gorge whilst giving you my life-force, you will get with another pani sac. If I don’t, you won’t.”

  “Fascinating,” she murmured.

  “And w
hen we decide we want no more hatchlings”—Zor slashed his hand tersely through the air—“which will not happen for many, many pani sacs yet to come”—He ignored Kyra’s frown—“then I simply cease gorging whilst mating altogether until the time comes when your sweet juice has dried up.”

  Kyra was so astounded that she forgot to be angry. “That’s amazing! That’s incred—hey wait!” Her hand flew to her throat as a horrific thought occurred to her. “Does that mean I’ll have these humungous breasts until we quit making babies altogether?”

  A lecherous purring sound emitted from Zor’s throat. “Mmm…aye, mani.”

  “Oh god.” Kyra’s hand flew back to her forehead. She really was getting a headache. “Zor! We have to quit after I have the next one. I can’t stand these breasts much longer!”

  He grunted. “On Tryston, we have an expression for this, nee’ka.”

  “Really, Zor? What is it?”

  “’Too bad.’”

  * * * * *

  The strutting Dak, who had been swaggering around Ti Q’won ever since Geris’s belly flutters first began, arrived with his queen the following morning.

  After escorting his nee’ka to Kyra’s apartments, Dak settled in at the raised table in the great hall with his brothers, bringing with him news that a few of his most trusted warriors had recently gleaned from a Tron insurrectionist they had captured within Trek Mi Q’an airspace. “They seek to kidnap the High Queen.”

  Dak pulled out a communicator, a small device that projected holographic images, and set it to replay a stored memory. “Here is the message the leader of the rebels has been passing amongst his followers.”

  Zor, Kil, and Rem watched in fury as the holographic message of the leader of the insurrectionists known only as Ty played back for them. He was a large man, though not so large as the average warrior. He was of a stocky build, sinewy in his strength and musculature. The hair had been shaved from his head and he sported only a closely cropped beard.

 

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