Wicked Empress: The Onic Empire, Book 4 (38 page)

“Not all sacrifices are about pain and agony. In my tribe, there are those who devote their lives to those who came before. We do not leave them huddled in the cold without food. We provided everything for them so that they can learn our history and retell each glorious moment in detail. We cherish them. To give a child unto those who came before is a great honor.” Drahka paused, considering. “I imagine the same is true here. You were an acolyte. Did they subject you to cruel punishments and fill your life with painful torment?”

“No.” Viltori’s answer was soft and hesitant. “Some of the restrictions were unpleasant, but I wasn’t abused.

“Then what makes you think they would do that to a child?”

After a very long silence, where by feeling his breath start and stop against his chest Drahka knew Viltori kept opening his mouth to say something only to close it quickly, Viltori finally said, “If I didn’t know better I’d swear you’d been talking to Rown.” Viltori stopped trying to pull away. Defeated, he sighed. “And you Bithia, could you give a child over to the gods?”

“I’ve never thought about it.” She offered comfort to Viltori with a touch to his arm. “But why must everything be decided now? Perhaps in time another solution will present itself. We can’t live in fear of what might come about.”

“Now you sound like Drahka.” Viltori sounded alternately relived and yet angry that they’d taken away the sting of his problem.

“I am pleased to be compared so favorably.” She kissed Drahka’s chest, then lifted up and kissed Viltori too, despite his slight show of resistance. “So far, of the three of us, he’s the only one to act and not simply react.”

Drahka squeezed his arms, drawing them both tightly against him. “Now, my chosen, may we sleep?” Slumber pulled at his eyelids, settling them down above his cheeks. His eyes flew open when both Bithia and Viltori grasped his cock.

Chapter Thirty

Viltori stood in a white
astle
robe, enshrouded in a curtain of crimson fabric. Below his feet was a raised dais. Beyond the fabric that shielded him, he heard a great group of people, some talking in whispers, others grumbling without care as to who heard them. Clearly, this bonding did not please many, but he couldn’t see them, so he could not hold resentment. He waited and wondered what would come next. When a servant removed his robe, he stood nude, and far more anxious. Drahka, that sneaky
cratifan
, had refused to tell him the details of the bonding ritual. All he would say was that Viltori would know what to do when the time came. From his teachings, Viltori knew some parts, but not all. The suspense was maddening.

A night of longing, gentle slumber and lingering morning kisses had erased Viltori’s fears. Come what may, the three of them would stand together. If the gods wanted a child, there was nothing to be done about that until that moment. Viltori knew he owed Rown an apology. Even then, all he’d really thought about was himself: his feelings and his reactions. Viltori said it was the child that concerned him, but it really wasn’t. He was afraid of what he would look like to others if he gave a child in his stead. Drahka—annoyingly wise and knowledgeable Drahka—had pointed out perhaps that was the path the child was meant to take all along. One could not know the minds of the gods. Letting go of his fears and shame had been difficult, mainly because Viltori had been using them as an excuse not to live his life to the fullest. Now that he’d come to terms, he had no more excuses.

Beyond the curtains, Drahka and Bithia waited just as he did. He assumed they were nude. They damn well better be. Anxiety rose in him, causing his pulsing erection to pound so hard he almost shook. Without warning, the curtains fell, pooling in three distinct piles on the dais, exposing the three of them to each other and the audience.

Silence filled the room with a palpable presence.

To his right stood Drahka, glistening and hard and looking more massive than Viltori remembered. His cock jutted forth from his hips, pointing into the center of the circle. Viltori had a sudden urge to fall to his knees and take him in his mouth, just as he’d tried to do last night. But Drahka had insisted they would not find satisfaction until their bonding. No matter how diligently he and Bithia tried to sway him, he held fast, even going so far as to turn over to his belly, denying them access to his cock. Eventually, bored of teasing his bottom, they’d given up and gone to sleep.

To his left, only a few steps away, stood Bithia, her hair in charming disarray, her heavy breasts pointed with taut nipples. Oil clung to the short ebony hairs that protected her sex. Even from this distance, he swore he could smell her. Involuntarily his hips jerked, his cock pointing toward her as if it knew today he could have her without repercussions, without regrets. In her eyes, he saw a welcoming hunger. She longed for him as much as he did for her. Only calm and centered Drahka stood there without a bit of anxiety or need. Viltori’s cock throbbed, but it was with knowing that satisfaction was soon at hand.

The new magistrate, Menon Levotch, approached the edge of the dais, an enormous white fur hat almost toppling off his head. Viltori would have laughed, but his lust tamped down any sense of mirth. Menon recited an invocation in the ancient tongue, but Viltori was too distracted by his soon-to-be bondmates to hear exactly what he said. Something about their rebirth in each other’s arms, and their souls binding for eternity, even through death and into the land of
Jarasine
. Viltori wanted to tell him to get on with it, but he didn’t dare speak, not when Drahka had ruined everything the first time by breaking the rules. However, had Drahka followed the exacting nature of the ritual, Viltori would not be standing here today. What Drahka said was proven again—just because something seemed bad at first, didn’t always mean it was. Things happened for a reason. The more Viltori accepted that, the happier he would probably be.

As he stood listening and looking at his chosen, he wanted to be inside Bithia. His body ached for her. He felt he’d waited a lifetime for that one singular moment of joining with her and giving to her everything he had. To have Drahka be a part of that moment just made something wonderful extraordinary.

Menon stopped speaking and pointed to a spot before Bithia. Drahka stepped forward, then knelt. Viltori did the same. On his knees, he looked up the length of Bithia’s glistening ebony body. Closer now, he could smell the musky sweetness of her sex. Forcibly he held himself back from grasping her thighs, shoving them apart and sliding his tongue deep inside.

Lips softly parted as she gazed down at them, Bithia stepped forward. Placing her hands atop Drahka’s head, she guided him toward her until his face was near her sex. Reverently he kissed her mound. Bithia released him and brought him to his feet with a cup of her hand to his chin.

Turning, she now rested her hands upon Viltori’s head. Moist heat transferred from her palms, through his hair, to his skin. He let her direct his face close. Unlike Drahka, he couldn’t resist temptation. As he placed a kiss upon her mound, he swiped out his tongue, snagging a taste of her sex, causing her to gasp slightly and dig her fingertips into his hair.

When he looked up, she flashed her eyes in warning, but one edge of her lips twisted almost imperceptibly into a smirk of satisfaction. Sliding his tongue across his teeth released her essence. Viltori’s already tense body only tightened further. He had to have more of her sublime and utterly wonderful taste. His body demanded to possess all of her. He wanted to toss her down and have Drahka hold her open for his detailed exploration between her luscious thighs.

Bithia cupped her hand to his chin and drew him to his feet.

“Can’t you ever behave?” she whispered as she leaned near.

Drilling his gaze into hers, he flashed a quick grin and shook his head.

Viltori and Drahka stood facing Bithia as Menon recited another speech, this one about their sacred essence, and should they combine to form blessed children. At those words, Viltori’s gut tightened, but he deliberately took a deep breath to release his tension. Chanting in his mind, he reminded himself that fate was what it was and no matter what he did, he could not change what was destined. The sooner he grasped that concept, the happier he would be.

When Menon finished, he held out a small green vial to Bithia. The gem-covered glass looked old, ancient, really, with overly large teeth to hold the smoothly polished, irregularly shaped stones in place. Removing the stopper, Bithia poured an oily liquid into her palm, capped the bottle, handed it back to Menon and then gently rubbed her hands together.

Bithia spoke in the ancient tongue, and he had to bite his lower lip not to chuckle. Her pronunciation was horrible. Whatever the liquid was, it glittered more brightly when she rubbed her palms together. What she didn’t realize was that her speech was actually an ancient spell designed to bind them to her for eternity. Not their souls, but their cocks. As she spoke words she clearly didn’t understand, she was attempting to make their cocks flaccid for anyone but her. Viltori considered that Farjika the Dark was not only a lusty woman, but also a jealous one. Imposing impotence on any consort who cheated on her was rather cruel. Viltori doubted the spell would work, not when Bithia mangled the words so hopelessly, but, magically bound or not, there was no question of his fidelity. Forever after this moment, he would know no other but his chosen bondmates. If any two could keep him sexually bound for a lifetime, Bithia and Drahka would. Endlessly inventive, wildly free and utterly welcoming, his partners would be more than enough to please his lustful body. Viltori had no qualms at all about the commitment he made here today.

When Bithia finished her garbled speech, she cupped their cocks simultaneously, Viltori in her right and Drahka in her left. Viltori wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but not exploding heat from her hand. He unlocked his knees for fear he would topple forward with the sudden weight of his cock. His prick felt enormous, far bigger than her hand, the room, even the planet. Never had he been so all-consumed by his prick. Each tiny cell that made up his blood, he felt, and all the blood in his body rushed to his cock, desperate to feed the beast, to fill him so full he could take what was rightfully his. When he licked his teeth and tasted Bithia, her flavor was so intense, so commanding, he knew if he did not have her he would die.

Drahka must be feeling the same, but he controlled himself well. A flare of his nostrils and a narrowing of his eyes were all the outward signs of torment he displayed. Now Viltori knew why Drahka didn’t tell him what to expect. He wouldn’t have believed him. Nothing in his experiences had prepared him for this.

Once Bithia had coated their cocks, she turned and bent at the waist, presenting herself. Drahka stepped forward before Viltori could react. With one smooth motion, Drahka speared her with his cock. A collective groan rose from not only the three of them, but also the entire audience. Massive hands gripped her hips as Drahka rammed into her. Not lightly, not gently, no, Drahka fucked her brutally hard and fast, his glittering cock a blur between her legs. Each plunge made her breasts jostle as she held her arms out for balance. Unable to get deep enough, Drahka wrapped one arm around her chest, the other across her hips, pulling her back and up, yanking her off her feet, holding her against his body as he bounced her on his prick. Snarling, lost to pure sensation, Drahka rocked his hips, forcing his cock into her as Bithia dangled loosely in his grasp. Quietly at first, Drahka was murmuring something into Bithia’s ear. As each ruthless thrust jolted her, his voice grew louder, more demanding. “Come for me. Come for me.”

When she did, Drahka tossed back his head as he pumped everything he’d held back into her. His butt cheeks clenched tightly as he gave the last. Viltori could almost feel the power of his release and the gasping acceptance of Bithia.

Standing there, panting, nothing left inside him but an animal, Viltori stepped forward, ready to rip Drahka from her so he could take his turn with her. Without missing a beat, Drahka withdrew his still-hard prick with a wince. He turned with her held in his arms. Leaning back, Drahka grasped the still standing and stunned Bithia behind her knees, and spread her wide, holding her ready for him. Viltori didn’t think it was possible, but he became even more aroused. Just as he’d held her spread for Drahka’s hungry mouth, he now returned the favor, stretching her wide for his rampaging cock.

In a daze, Bithia blinked slowly, her focus returning just as Viltori stepped forward and rubbed his cock down the slick wet of her cunt. When the ridge of his prick bumped along her clit, she squirmed and tried to pull her legs together, but Drahka held her firmly.

“Please, Viltori. Fill me.”

He wanted to obey. Everything inside him told him to do what she said. Primal and animal, his hindbrain ordered him to possess her, to fuck her, but his rational brain took control. He would not rush. He’d waited forever, it seemed, and a few more moments were not going to kill him, despite the screaming need in his body. He glanced up at Drahka’s face and saw his answering nod. Drahka wasn’t straining a bit holding her up and open for him.

“How badly do you want my cock, my lady?” Slowly he teased his length up and down her slick lips, loving the heat and the combined slickness of her and Drahka’s orgasm. “After his massive prick, you crave another?”

Viltori’s focus was so intent on Bithia he scarce noticed those around him. The audience had fallen into gasping stillness, each holding their breath, waiting for Bithia’s answer. He wasn’t sure if talking violated the ritual, but he didn’t think so, not when Menon waited patiently by the side of the dais, his gaze just as riveted as everyone else’s.

“I crave your cock.” Bithia would have reached for him, but her hands were clasped to Drahka’s shoulders, helping to hold herself up and open. Frustration filled her gaze and, as he continued to rub against her, she shivered each time he nudged her throbbing little clit.

No longer able to take a steady breath, Viltori drew air through his nose and his mouth, taking in her scent, driving his body further into lustful madness. Each time he smeared his cock along her, he spread the glittering gel until his entire shaft and balls, and the whole delicious length of her sex, glowed. Each pass created sparks. The faster he went, the more the tiny jolts of electricity increased until their bodies jerked in response.