[The Onic Empire 03] - Sinful Harvest (19 page)

Bithia reached beside her throne for another drink. She eyed the one in Kerrick’s hand. He’d hardly touched the sparkly wine, but she offered him another, anyway. Kerrick tossed back the one he had, set the glass beside Ariss’ throne, then took another.

Again, Bithia stroked her finger along the back of his hand. A wicked gleam came to her eye as she leaned close to Ariss, and asked, “How is he?” She kept her voice confidential, but loud enough that Kerrick could clearly hear her over the cacophony.

Confused, Ariss dropped her eyes to her belly, then followed Bithia’s gaze to Kerrick. “He is a fine protector.” She smiled up at him.

He nodded his head subserviently to her.

Ariss frowned slightly, clearly displeased that he wasn’t more enamored of her praise.

“No,” Bithia said, swirling her drink. “How is he with sex?” Before Ariss could sputter out an answer, Bithia said, “Some still talk of your encounters in the mating room. It is said he put on quite a show.” Deliberately, Bithia let her gaze linger on his crotch. “Do you ever share him?”

Kerrick thought Ariss’ eyes were going to pop from her head. Mainly because she didn’t know the elite had observed them as they mated, but more so by Bithia’s forwardness. Ariss blinked rapidly, as if trying to assimilate everything.

For once, he was pleased that his servant status prevented
him from speaking. He was going to relish watching Ariss squirm. However, before he could thoroughly enjoy her discomfort, he suddenly began to fidget himself. Without any lusty thoughts whatsoever, his cock hardened, pushing against his loose-fitting trousers in a prominent display since he didn’t wear undergarments. He glanced down at the drink he’d so cavalierly tossed off and realized what caused Bithia’s smirk; he’d just willingly consumed an entire glass of
illias.
Bithia had deliberately handed him the powerful, sparkling aphrodisiac; and he’d not only taken it, but quaffed it quickly. She must have taken his actions as an indication of his willingness.

Lowering her voice, Bithia said, “I would pay well to borrow him.” Darting her gaze between him and Ariss, she added, “I promise I will not hurt him; however, I would like to use him with another, if that is permitted. Is he accustomed to that?”

Another?
Kerrick considered what that might mean. Him, Bithia, and another man or another woman? Judging by the way her gaze lingered on anything and everything male, he was guessing two men. Or more. She might be young, but she clearly wasn’t naive.

“You want to …”Ariss trailed off, unable to even speak of what Bithia suggested.

“You can join us if you’d like. I just thought that in your condition you would refrain from such vigorous encounters.”

Ariss’ mouth hung open but absolutely nothing came out.

Frowning, Bithia asked, “Isn’t that done on this world?” She jumped her gaze from him to Ariss. “I thought it was proper to ask the owner of the slave.”

“He is bound to me by temple rites as my protector, not my, my sex slave.” Ariss glanced over at him as if seeking support, and that’s when she noticed the bulge in his trousers. Her gaze flew to his face as an expression of disgust twisted her features.
Obviously, she thought he was intrigued by Bithia’s suggestion. He wasn’t, but he wasn’t about to correct Ariss’ erroneous assessment, either.

“You don’t have sex with him?” Now it was Bithia’s turn to be shocked. Her gaze traveled over him with the power of a caress. “But he was the Harvester, wasn’t he?”

She knew he was. He saw the gleam of recognition in her eyes and wondered what game she was playing.

“He was, but …”Ariss trailed off, then lowered her hand to her belly. “I’m sorry, my lady, but I fear I must return to my rooms.” Ariss stood. Her clutch of servants rushed toward her, but she stopped them with a lifted hand.

Kerrick grabbed her decorative robe, but rather than placing the heavy thing on her shoulders, he folded the fabric over his arm, using the massive thing to hide his bulge.

By the time they reached the bottom of the platform, their contingent of guards surrounded them with expert ease. As they left the great hall, Kerrick glanced over his shoulder. Bithia raised her glass to him, drank, and then tossed the empty behind her. A wide smile graced her face as she dropped her gaze to his fanny and lifted one brow.

“Will you stop staring at that audacious child?” Ariss whisper-hissed.

Chuckling, Kerrick turned his gaze forward. “Bithia isn’t a child; she’s a young woman. A very lusty young woman.” They were out in the hallway, but Kerrick looked back just to irritate Ariss. “Someday we’re going to have to visit Beserrah.”

“If you look back again, I’ll—”

“What? Have me beaten?” Leaning near enough that his breath caressed her neck, he asked, “Or will you beat me yourself? Perhaps with both hands. Maybe in a slow-up-and-down motion?”

Her face flamed red. They continued in silence. When they
reached her suite of rooms, Ariss dismissed her servants and slammed the door in the guards’ faces.

Kerrick set her robe aside. Deliberately, he cocked his hip, causing the material of his trousers to stretch tight across his erection.

Striding forward, Ariss grasped his cock accusingly. “How can you be attracted to her?”

His erection had nothing to do with Bithia; however, Ariss’ hand was only compounding his problem. Grasping her wrist, he snarled, “Why shouldn’t I submit to the empress while you find your pleasure with some man who uses you so brutally he leaves marks?” He hadn’t realized how angry he was about her betrayal until he flung the accusation at her. Here he was, trapped for a lifetime as her subservient slave, and she was finding satisfaction with another!

Ariss winced and tried to pull away.

Yanking her close, he dropped his lips a breath from hers, and asked, “Who is he?” He had no problem using his role as her protector to hunt the man down and beat the lust right out of him. How dare any man use her to the point he injured her, in her condition, no less? Just the thought of another with Ariss infuriated him beyond comprehension. Twice he’d fallen to his knees to give her his tribute in the temple, while she sated her needs with some brute.

Pressing her lips together, as if to prevent herself from speaking the truth, she tried again to elude his grasp, but he tightened his grip. Not hard enough to hurt, just tight enough to make it clear who was in charge. Her refusal to give the name made Chur and Sterlave flash instantly to his mind. Kerrick wondered if they had to grovel in the temple and give her their tribute. Chur was a demigod himself, so probably not. Sterlave, as the consort to the prior empress, probably got some special dispensation. But that wouldn’t stop either man from sneaking trysts with her.

“Do you like it when he forces you down, then uses you so ruthlessly he burns the palms of your hands and the skin of your knees?” He twisted his grip, exposing her palms. Even now, the marks still lingered. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice? Or perhaps that I was too stupid to realize what caused these marks?” Something about her allowing a man to maltreat her infuriated him. Such brutality wasn’t about passion; it was about subjugation and violence. “How could you let any man abuse you?”

Breathless, she tried to pull away, but then, closing her eyes, she lowered her voice to a fragile whisper. “I didn’t have a choice.”

Stunned, Kerrick released her at once. Who would dare to rape the consort of a god? For that matter, when could such an event have occurred? He was by her side almost every moment of the day. The only time he left her was when he went to the
tishiary.
When he went there, a palace guard took his place. So when could any man have gotten near enough to harm her? As soon as he asked himself the question, he knew the answer.

“Tavarus.”

Ariss winced at the name, closing her eyes tightly, as if she tried to block the images from her mind.

Kerrick stepped back, lifting his hands as if to ward off the truth. “Through me.” His gaze dropped to the floor as a trickle of a memory took form in his brain. “I did that to you. Right here.” In a hazy, jumbled vision, he saw himself tormenting Ariss, then forcing her down, forcing himself inside. Through his hands he felt her hips giving way below his fingertips, felt her body rock forward from his thrusts. If not for that damn drink, revulsion would have deflated his erection in a snap.

“You tried to fight him off.” Ariss crossed her arms over her chest, hugging herself, holding herself. “But your refusal only angered him more.” She couldn’t meet his gaze. “I begged you to just let him do what he wanted.” Her eyes darted to his, then
quickly away. “I knew he wouldn’t really hurt me. Tavarus wouldn’t do anything to hurt his child.”

Closing his eyes against the horrible truth, Kerrick sat down hard on a puffy couch. He dropped his head into his hands. His cock ached with a relentless need for climax, which he forcefully ignored. Right now, he’d rather suffer the torments of the ages than have Ariss assuage his lust.

“How many times?” he asked, hoping against hope that it had only happened once.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Ariss sat beside him, taking his hand into hers.

Her hand felt so small in his, so delicate and fragile. He opened his mouth to ask the question again, but closed it without saying a word. He really didn’t want to know. One time was one time too many. Turning her hand over, he lifted her arm and kissed the center of her palm. No words would ever change what had happened.

“Do you hate me?”

“No.” Ariss leaned into him, forcing his arm around her shoulders so she could press her head against his chest. “You were possessed by a god, Kerrick. There wasn’t anything either of us could do.”

Kerrick was overwhelmed by the feelings welling up inside. To be a tool for a god was bad enough, but for that same god to use him to hurt Ariss was more than he could handle.

“How can you even bear to let me touch you?” Her shoulders felt frighteningly fragile below his massive arm. Without any compassion or restraint to guide him, he could hurt her. A god such as Tavarus didn’t care about mere mortals. He took what he wanted when he wanted it and damned the consequences. Terrified, because in a moment of god-fueled lust, Tavarus could make Kerrick kill her without meaning to, Ker-rick suddenly wanted to get as far from Ariss as he could. How could he truly protect her when he couldn’t stop a god from
possessing him? He didn’t know if he could trust Ariss’ assessment that Tavarus would never really hurt her because of the child. If he was used to getting what he wanted when he wanted it, what would prevent Tavarus from lashing out, especially if using force gave him satisfaction?

Ariss snuggled closer, and whispered, “It wasn’t you. I knew it wasn’t you. When he fills you, your eyes swell black, eating up all the color, turning your eyes into fathomless pits.” She shuddered, compelling him to pull her closer to his warmth. He kissed the top of her head, smelling that lovely
valasta
that seemed as much a part of her as anything. No matter what perfumes her servants placed on her, he could always smell that sweet scent.

“When was the last time he came?” Kerrick blanched at his own question. He’d meant the last time Tavarus had been here, not the last time he’d gotten off. Although, technically, they were the same thing.

“I think he has grown bored with me,” Ariss said, trailing her hand along the opening of his simple brown shirt. “Right after the temple ceremony, he came several times a day, but it has been more than a quarter cycle since he’s been here.” Relief filled her voice. “Hopefully he has found another way to occupy his time.”

Kerrick nodded, rubbing his chin against her silky hair. He hoped with everything in him that Tavarus would never bother either of them again. Gnawing at the inside of his cheek, Ker-rick wondered if there was any way he could stop Tavarus from possessing him. Clearly, he couldn’t creep into just anyone or the gods would be taking over mortals all the time. There had to be something that happened during the temple ceremony to allow Tavarus access to Kerrick’s body.

When Kerrick glanced down, Ariss had undone every button on his shirt and pushed the edges open. She stroked her hand directly against his chest, teasing the smooth side of her
polished nails along the rise and fall of his muscles. The contrast of her creamy skin against the fading bronze of his riveted his attention. Idly, she traced a circle around his nipple, causing the flesh to contract. His tormented cock twitched.

He took a deep breath. Mixed in with sweet
valasta
was the scent of her need. Gods be damned that he could smell her arousal. Worse, he could see her nipples pressed hard against the gauzy fabric of her dress. Twin outlines of caramel brown made his mouth water to taste and his fingers tremble to touch. Two cycles had passed since he’d felt the heat of her snug sex wrapped around his cock. For a moment, he let himself wallow in everything they’d done together in the mating room. As he turned to kiss her, the collar dug into his neck.

“Ariss, don’t.” Capturing her hand, he gently removed his arm from her shoulders and placed her hand in her lap. By the very vestiges of self-control he was able to stop her when everything in him wanted to beg her to continue.

Smoky gray eyes met his with genuine surprise and the smallest hint of hurt. “But I want you.”

Kerrick resisted the urge to wrap her up in his arms and kiss that look of pain off her face. “I am only to give you tribute in the temple.” He forced the words out even though he didn’t truly feel them. If he had his way, Ariss would already be halfway out of her dress with her legs wrapped around his hips.

Her scoff was a light exhale of breath. “Since when do you follow the rules?”

Through lightly clenched teeth, he returned, “Since the last time I broke them I ended up a slave.” Kerrick stood and took two steps away from her, desperate to put some distance between them before he lost his resolve. Damn Bithia and himself for stupidly consuming the aphrodisiac. His cock and balls ached almost as badly as they had after the Harvest. Every breath he took brought more of Ariss’ unique scent into his mouth and lungs, but the weight of the collar reminded him
what had happened the last time he broke the rules. Kerrick had a feeling that breaking this one would end in his execution.