Wicked Empress: The Onic Empire, Book 4 (3 page)

Chapter Two

One swift kick would make splinters of the door. He stood there for a long time, considering what that action would lead to, then decided against destruction. Clearly, his chosen was not a normal female. Everything about her was different from the women of his tribe. He’d never seen breasts so big, hair so short, or a woman so tall. And her eyes… As soon as he’d seen her, he’d been attracted to her differentness. Everything went wrong once they’d come to these elaborate rooms.

From what he’d been told, women did not move when a man gave. They took. This one moved her insides without moving her outsides, which had felt very good. So good, in fact, that he knew such pleasure must be wrong. When he told her to stop, she’d smiled up at him, mocking him with the cast of her face and her unusual eyes.

She wanted to give, but he knew that was not how things worked. A man gave and a woman took. That was the way of mating. Even though here in this alien place they would not make him suffer the penalty for not following the true way, he still did not wish to displease the elders. Already he’d been punished enough by having to come here and mate with a woman who was as wrong as he was. May those who had gone before bless the children that would come from their union.

Sitting before the closed door, he waited for her to emerge. Simple logic told him that eventually she would have to come out. When she did, they would…talk. He shook his head, causing long black strands to tumble around his shoulders. He had difficulty speaking her language even after intensive study. He knew what he wanted to say, but when he was anxious, everything tumbled out in a messy jumble. Viltori, the man who had been teaching him Diolan, could barely speak Oughunian, his native tongue. Viltori softened the clicks to mush and accented syllables that should roll smoothly off the tongue.

Even with that, the man was a gifted teacher. Viltori found creative ways to convey meaning and he never let frustration darken his light features. His teacher was another filled with differentness: pale of hair and eyes, but curiously strong. Muscles rippled below his white robe, and more than once he’d seen Viltori become aroused, his cock hard against silken fabric as he tried to teach the names of body parts. He knew Viltori had to touch to convey meaning, but he’d not liked the feelings inside, so he’d lashed out. He was stunned when Viltori caught his fist and pushed him to the floor. After that, they came to a truce. Viltori touched him with a stick, not his hands, because he taught Viltori that one man does not touch another man in such a way.

All during their training, Viltori had been consumed with knowing his name. He stood without words and without a way to convey he did not have a name. The tribe shunned one such as he. He had earned a name as a child, but the elders stripped him of his title during adolescence when they put the mark of shame on his face. One mistake cost him his identity. Afterward, his tribe called him nothing. So low was he that he had no name. Clicking the same words for “no” and “name” over and again made Viltori call him no name. In Diolan, this translated to Drahka. He ran the words together as if they made a whole. In his shame, he who could not be named became Drahka. Since it was the only name he had, he’d taken to thinking of himself that way.

Within the closed room, Drahka heard water running. He’d been most impressed with their command of the elements. Diolans could channel wind, water, earth and fire within a dwelling for their convenience. His tribe did not have such power. However, he thought Diolans spent too much time grooming themselves. Moreover, even though they were scrupulously clean, they still covered themselves in a plethora of scents. His first step into the palace had sent his senses reeling. Eyes watering and nose running, he’d spent the first few days trying desperately to breathe. He was used to it now, but still, why would his chosen need to wash when she’d been cleaned thoroughly just like he was for their rites?

The answer hit him in a sudden, painful rush. She did not wish to have his scent on her. As he’d worked his hips between her legs, he’d watched her breasts bounce with entrancing motions. When he’d looked up at her face, he did not understand what he read there: displeasure, boredom, irritation. He was mating correctly. She was the one who did not know how to take. He had given to her hard and fast as he’d been instructed to do. And he’d given twice. What more could a woman want? If he gave to her this way twice each night, then she would soon be with child.

When she’d reached down to fill herself with her own hand, he’d been furious that he wasn’t enough for her. He would give again, but he was exhausted. Besides, he needed to find release, not her. It did not matter if a woman reached the peak of pleasure for the creation of children. He frowned. Maybe she did not know that. Perhaps his chosen was uneducated about such matters. He’d assumed that, as the leader of her people, someone would have told her how mating worked. Obviously, she did not understand, as she’d motioned for him to put his mouth to her breast, something only a child would do. That she wished to put her mouth to his was beyond bizarre. He needed Viltori’s help to teach her the right way of things, or whatever children they created would echo their wrongness.

He heard the door open and lifted smoothly to his feet, startling her back into the room. Stepping forward caused her eyes to widen. She stumbled back, lifting one hand to the crimson cloth around her body and the other to him, telling him to stop. He frowned. Did she think he would hurt her? What kind of man did she think he was?

Calming himself first, he found the words he wished to say then uttered them in a slow, clear manner. “I would not hurt you.”

“You got that right.” She stood tall, puffing herself up to intimidate him, even though such was folly. “Get out of my way.”

“We talk.” He refused to move away from the door because if he did, she was going to run through it and get as far from him as she could. If he couldn’t make this work, he would have to return to his tribe with such shame on his head they would surely kill him. His spirit would be so worthless they would not even bother to consume him as they did with most who died.

“I have nothing to say to you.” Up her chin went as she turned to her own reflection. “I will have this bonding dissolved or abolished or whatever they call it. I am not going to take any more of what you have to give.” She ran her fingers through her wet hair, fluffing the strands around her face, softening the harshness of her expression.

He didn’t understand every word she used, but he got her meaning: She didn’t like how he gave. Whatever she was expecting, he didn’t provide it. He hung his head in shame. At the time, he’d been very proud of how hard and fast he’d given to her. He might have corrected his mistakes had he been watching her face and not her enormous breasts.

“I gave hard I could. I couldn’t give again.” Perhaps if he had, she would not be so angry now. How many times was he expected to give in a session? He thought only once, but that had not been nearly enough for her.

“You
peckard
,” she snarled over her shoulder, “I can’t believe you think your cock—” She stopped abruptly when she turned and faced him.

He was so deeply humiliated he couldn’t even meet her gaze. Keeping his attention on her feet, he waited for her diatribe to continue. When it didn’t, he lifted his gaze to her without lifting his head.

Confusion drew her brows together. “You really don’t understand.”

That
he actually understood. He nodded miserably. He barely comprehended the most basic customs of this strange new land. Apparently, his rudimentary grasp of mating in his own tribe was no help to him here. “I never gave to a woman before.”

Her mouth fell open. “You’re a virgin? I mean you—I was your first?”

Why would this surprise her so? Then he realized she did not know that none of the women in his tribe would touch him, not after his shame as a young boy. The mark on his face told everyone what he was. His curiosity had stripped him of his name and made him an outcast. The elders were very wise not to tell the sky people of his disgrace for they would not want him had they known. Now he realized he could not tell her or she would not want him either.

Haltingly, he said, “I wait for you.” That wasn’t quite right, but he didn’t know how to say he’d deliberately waited to mate with her, even though that wasn’t the full truth. He’d wanted to mate desperately with a woman of his tribe, but of the two he’d approached, one laughed and the other screamed. Still, his words seemed to touch her for her face softened further.

“That explains so much.” Turning to him, she cupped her hand to his face. He met her gaze but was perplexed when he discovered both her eyes were now the same translucent blue. Before, one had been blue and the other green. During the rite he’d been mesmerized by her odd eyes. For a moment, he considered this was not his chosen, but another sent to trick him, but he knew this was Bithia. Already he knew her scent. If ever she ran from him, he could hunt her down no matter what perfumes she slathered upon herself.

She slid her hand from his face to his chest, teasing her fingertips through his hair, finally resting her palm above the beating place in his body.

“You will kill me?” To touch one there was to imply such a threat.

“No!” She shook her head. “It’s not your fault.” She sighed while smoothing both her hands across his chest to his shoulders.

Fearing she sought to mate again, he captured her hands. “No go again.”

Tilting her head to the side, she considered him, then followed his gaze down to his cock. “A touch doesn’t always mean a desire to mate. I just wanted to feel you.”

He didn’t know why anyone would do such a thing. He thought any touch meant a desire to mate. Everything he thought he knew might be wrong, as he wasn’t properly instructed. He’d learned what he could by listening to the others and watching what they did.

“We have to find a teacher to help us.” She stepped back, considering him from face to feet. “Because with some training, you’d be a magnificent lover.”

He got about half of what she said, but his spirit lifted when she mentioned a teacher. “Have Viltori.”

One brow lifted. “He’s your language teacher?”

He nodded. If anyone could help them solve this dilemma, that man was Viltori.

“Well, then, come morning, we will both be taking lessons from Viltori.” Smiling, she removed her crimson cloth and let it fall to the floor.

Despite his best efforts, his gaze riveted to her breasts.

“You really are fascinated with them, aren’t you?” She put her hands under them, lifting them, forcing them to go round and high against her chest. Nipples as dark as deep-day shadows peeked over the edges of her palms, almost as if her breasts looked back at him with as much interest as he gave them. Immediately he wanted to tell her to stop touching herself, but then realized such an action was clearly not taboo in her tribe as it was in his. To his shock, she lifted one breast as she lowered her face, then licked her own nipple!

His cock, which he thought utterly drained, came slowly back to life. Each caress of her tongue hardened her nipple and his shaft. He couldn’t help but imagine her working her tongue on him down there, no matter how perverse such a thought was.

She noticed that he hardened. After another quick swipe, she smiled up at him. “Why don’t you try?” She stepped close, offering her breast to him.

Pushing away the wrongness that swept over him, just as he’d done during their rite when he’d had to kneel and kiss her down there, he lowered his head and ran his tongue over her nipple. He tasted something sweet and marveled at the different textures. Her breast was so soft, but her nipple so hard. She cupped his chin, curling her fingers around his mouth to open it and take the entire nipple within. When he did, she moaned. When he sucked softly, she arched her back and plunged her fingers into his hair, holding his head to her breast.

Now he understood this was not like what a woman did with a child. She wasn’t feeding him—he was giving her pleasure, and she was greedily taking all he could give. Satisfied they’d come to this understanding, he switched to the other nipple, and then went back and forth, then managed to squeeze them together to take both into his mouth at once. Somehow, the idea that the elders thought this a great wrongness only thrilled him more.

Bithia murmured encouragement with words he didn’t understand but didn’t need to fully grasp. When he looked up at her face, all he saw was satisfaction. Confidence surged another flow of pleasure across his cock. That was the word she and Viltori both used. Drahka liked the power in the sound of it. Cock sounded strong and hard, just like he was.

When he leaned away from her breasts, Bithia slipped her hand around the heavy weight of his cock. He opened his mouth to admonish her and then forcefully shut it. She wasn’t going to give to him. She was going to take from him. Telling himself that helped him relax and let her explore.

Strong fingers traced around the blunt tip, then pulled his foreskin down, exposing the sensitive skin below. Slowly she sank to her knees until her face was close to him, exciting him with her proximity and the heat of her breath.

“Lovely uncut male.”

He didn’t understand anything of what she said other than the word “male”, but he didn’t care as she stroked the loose skin up and down, making him so hard he strained as if to leap inside her. Holding himself back was difficult, but he sensed she did not wish to rush. Perhaps before, they’d gone too fast and that was what had displeased her. Even if she drove him mad with her touch, he would wait until she was ready for him to give.

She continued her journey along the length until she cupped his sac in her palm. Carefully she felt the weight of him, rolling his balls back and forth, her fingertips tracing up and back to a spot of skin that was so sensitive he groaned.

“You like?” Her whispered question caressed the swollen tip of his cock, sending fire along his flesh.

Unable to speak, he nodded and grunted, causing her to glance up at him and smile. Parting her lips, she took the very tip of him into her mouth. Shocked, he simply stood and watched as the length of his cock disappeared into her face. He knew what she did was wrong, but her mouth felt so good. Simultaneously, he wanted to step back and stop her, but he also wanted to step forward and thrust into her. Such duality held him immobile.