The Breaker's Concubine (7 page)

At last she released him with a long suck that had him bucking against her. Unable to fully

support his weight, he sagged in his shackles and watched her as she remained on her knees,

panting and shivering with soft groans. Why she didn’t give herself the orgasm she so obviously

needed was beyond him.

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“Bitch,” he said in a pleasure-slurred voice. “You enjoyed eating my cum, didn’t you?”

She stood on unsteady feet and avoided his gaze. Her voice was rough with desire, and the

waves of need coming off her sent a rush of blood to his cock. “Someone will be back to unchain

you and feed you. I want you well rested for tomorrow.”

The way she shifted her stance, keeping her legs tightly pressed together, confirmed his

suspicion. She wanted him badly, but for some reason couldn’t have him. Maybe the breakers

were forbidden from having their release with him. If that was true, he could use that to torment

her until she made a mistake.

34

Ann Mayburn

Chapter Four

The dim, early-morning sun burned off the last of the artificial dew from the soft green

grass of Melania’s private garden. High, dark stone walls decorated with flowering vines

enclosed the garden, while a clear dome above kept it secure. A synthetic breeze blew through

the manicured trees and stirred the loose strands of hair against her cheek. Normally she

delighted in coaxing a shy pleasure slave into a screaming orgasm in the broad daylight of her

gardens. Now she hesitated and steeled herself for the mental battle ahead.

Each flower and plant was carefully pruned and bred for perfection, making the contrast of

Devnar’s scarred body suspended between two smooth magnetic stone pillars all the more

startling. She knew he was aware of her presence. His big shoulders tensed as she approached,

and the hem of her black leather gown dragged across the grass with a hiss.

She closed her eyes and fought for self-control. She had to break him, had to make him

into a concubine fit for an empress. Becoming addicted to his orgasm was not an option. He had

filled her dreams, tormenting her body until she woke burning on the edge of release a dozen

times. Beyond that, he intrigued her. A good breaker knew the mind and soul of their novice, but

his life and personality were a mystery to her. Truth be told, she was afraid to know anything

more about him. Afraid she would become further ensnared by her growing obsession.

He was the key to having a concubine. She kept repeating that mantra, picturing a dark-

haired man who looked disturbingly like Devnar waiting in bed for her. With her resolve

strengthened, she hurried toward him before she even made the conscious decision to move.

“Good morning, pet.” She ran her hand over his lower back, admiring the play in his

muscles as he struggled not to flinch. The sun brought out the tattoo across his thigh that dipped

over the curved muscle of his butt. She longed to run her tongue over each intricate swirl.

“Bitch.”

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35

With a soft laugh, she continued to touch him as she ducked beneath his spread arms and

around to his front. Heat rushed through her blood and tightened her core as she noted he was

already fully erect. Instead of looking at her, he kept his eyes focused on the fountain behind her.

“What do these markings mean?” She traced the tips of her nails over his muscled flank,

following the sweep of the tattoo as it wrapped around his thigh.

He pressed his lips together in a firm line that would have looked petulant if his face

wasn’t so rugged. As it was, it looked like he had eaten a lemon.

She bit her lower lip to suppress a giggle and gently toyed with his nipple ring. His

erection bobbed with each tug of the ring, and she had to resist the urge to sink to her knees and

take its delicious length in her mouth. “If you tell me, I won’t have your cock pierced without

your permission.”

He coughed and stared at her while the pulse in the side of his neck throbbed. “It’s the

mark of my royal heritage. The circles show who my ancestors were, and the curves represent

my accomplishments on the battlefield.”

A warrior, of course. The warriors of her world came only from the working class. She

never had any interaction with them other than the occasional merchant. The classes were

forbidden from mingling, and the regulators enforced the rule with no mercy.

He watched her trace a curving pattern on his thigh and said in a low voice, “The swirls are

the mark of favor from my Goddess.”

Another small piece to his personality fell into place. She stroked the twisting whirls of

black and white with a gentle touch. His muscles jumped beneath her hand like a skittish animal.

What would it be like to know where you came from? To be able to name your family and share

in their love?

“Now get your peasant hands off of me. If we were on my planet, I would kill you for

touching me.”

The bitterness in his voice jerked her back to the present. Deliberately, she rested her palm

above the jutting length of his erection. The hard muscles of his lower abdomen tightened, and

she stroked the ridges. He refused to meet her look and stared at the fountain again. For all his

protests, his body wanted to serve.

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Ann Mayburn

Wanted her.

After a lifetime of being considered ugly, she thrilled at the knowledge that he found her

attractive…desirable. The way he looked at her, even when he was angry, made her heart beat

faster.

Irritated at the possessive turn of her thoughts, her words held more anger than she’d

intended. “I don’t know what kind of primitive rutting your people do on your planet, but today

I’m going to teach you how to pleasure a woman.”

Now he met her look, and he wasn’t happy. So much fire in that gaze, so much strength

bound for her pleasure. She gave herself a mental shake and tried to distance her mind from her

body’s desires. She was a breaker; it was not her place to find pleasure in this. She lived to serve

and for the pleasures of others. Her only hope of ever having a mate and family of her own rested

in making this male fit for the empress.

She had no other choice.

Repeating this mantra, she attempted to focus on his body with an objective eye. Despite

his anger, he was still so hard the veins of his cock stood out in sharp relief. That was good, but

if he displayed this temper to the empress, she would have him killed. The thought stung her

heart more than it should, and she moved so the shiny black leather of her dress brushed his legs.

“Don’t touch me,” he growled, and her body shivered in response.

“Pet, I can do anything I want. You are mine.” She emphasized her words by stroking the

line of his jaw and over to his lips. A little scar marred the full lower one, and she mused that it

would have to be removed before he was presented to the empress. Too bad, because that small

flaw accented the curve of his mouth.

Distracted by her admiration, she didn’t notice his jaw tensing until it was too late and he

had her finger trapped between his teeth. Her breath caught in her throat as he bit down, and she

cursed herself for letting her mind wander. Every moment of her life would be unending pain if

she failed at her task. With a slow, gentle movement of her hand, she stroked against his chest.

She could use the sting of the shock collar, but that wouldn’t teach him anything. He needed to

respond to her, to bend to her will and want to please.

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37

“Very nice,” she purred and pressed herself closer. The pressure of his bite increased, and

she relaxed into it. Pain could be pleasure, and if she was reading him right, he wouldn’t go any

further than this. The more she showed she enjoyed it, the more confused and uncertain he

became.

The hesitant tip of his tongue flicked over her trapped finger, and heat raced through the

nerves of her body to her clit. She had spent half the night masturbating to the memory of his

body, and it hadn’t been enough. She stood on her tiptoes and wiggled her hips so the slit in the

front of her skirt parted; then the head of his cock touched the curls of her pussy. Desire surged

through her, and she wanted with all her heart to wrap her legs around his waist and ride his

magnificent erection.

With a grunt, he let go of her finger and shuddered in his bonds. “Get away from me.”

“No.” She traced her lips over his jaw. A faint hint of stubble rasped along her mouth. The

tip of his cock pressed into the curve of her hip as he thrust forward. Fire, she was playing with

fire.

She licked the seam of his lips, then sighed. He tasted wonderful, masculine and rich with

passion. The chemical rush of his desire made her lean into his mouth, eager to tease more of a

delicious reaction from him. All her nerves blazed to life, and her skin became extra sensitive.

“I don’t want you,” he whispered against her lips. The motion of his words turned into a

kiss, each sound slow and thick with need. “Stop.”

So tempting. She wanted to lose herself in his mouth. Her delicate arms wrapped around

his neck, and she pulled back with a sigh. “Why do you fight it? I can feel your desire, your need

wrapping like an iron fist around your cock.”

“I don’t want you,” he repeated and tried to pull his hips away. Shame, desire, and anger

battled in his gaze before he looked over her head and back to the fountain.

Lifting the edges of her skirts, she fastened them back behind her so her body was framed

by the black leather. The top still hid her breasts, but the breeze cooled the moisture coating her

inner thighs. His nostrils twitched, and his big hands fisted above the shiny silver metal of his

cuffs.

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Ann Mayburn

She was glad they were alone. Evidence of her desire would have been enough to have him

reassigned to a different breaker and her sold to a worker class brothel where anyone could buy

her body. Her own need was a distraction she couldn’t afford. She must be solely focused on him

instead of giving in to her own fierce cravings. The thought of her failure should have filled her

with shame; instead she felt an unfamiliar sensation of defiance. Heady and frightening, it sped

her pulse. The mixture of her body’s response to her desire and the almost drugging effect of his

need made her reckless.

As she struggled to regain the upper hand, she strolled over to the fountain and sat on the

edge. His gaze followed her, and she parted her legs, displaying herself to him. The tip of his

tongue licked his lips as he tried to look away while she traced one finger down the seam of soft

skin where her inner thigh met her pussy. Her mind clamored at her to stop before it was too late,

but her body urged her onward. Just this little bit of relief. It wasn’t like she was actually going

to be coming with him.

She tried to convince herself she was only doing this to arouse him as she cupped her

mound and arched into her hand. So swollen and hot, her body ached to be filled. But she didn’t

dare, not as aroused as she was. If he mounted her right now, she would do the forbidden and

orgasm in an instant.

She licked her lips and watched him. Even bound and hanging there for her pleasure, he

seemed to be the one in command of the situation. “Touch yourself,” he growled in a low voice.

“Show me that pretty cunt.”

He thought the body she had always dismissed as scrawny and unfeminine was pretty. The

thought brought a warm wave of satisfaction that mixed with her desire. After she licked one of

her fingers, she slowly slid it between her smooth nether lips, parting them to reveal her clit.

Hard and stiff, it poked out like a little cock. What would it feel like to have his lips wrapped

around it? Would he know how to please her?

She had never been so turned on in her life.

Without preamble, she shoved her finger into her hungry pussy, gasping at the intrusion.

He unconsciously rocked his hips in time with her hand, reinforcing the mental image of his cock

replacing her fingers. Greedy for her orgasm, she rubbed against her clit and arched into her

touch, wanting to come.

The Breaker’s Concubine

39

She sank her teeth into her lower lip as she tensed and added a second finger. A poor

substitute for his shaft but all she could allow herself. A wave of his arousal washed through her

and pushed her over the edge, her body clenching around her fingers as she hunched and cried

out. Still panting and shivering, she made a low noise of frustration. The need was still there, still

burning bright. Her release had taken a bit of the edge off, but she still wanted more.

Wanted
him
.

Knowing she was being stupid but unable to help herself, she pressed the release button on