Wicked Empress: The Onic Empire, Book 4 (7 page)

Drahka nodded, turning his attention to his own cock. “Mine hurts. Bithia’s servants scrubbed under the tip.”

Viltori cast a wary eye to the door, than to Drahka’s hand-held prick. “Does it hurt now?”

“Some.” Frowning, Drahka looked toward the door Bithia had exited. “She take twice, then suck once. Still I am excited thinking of her.”

Nodding, Viltori asked, “On Oughun, do men seek solo pleasure?”

Horrified, Drahka yanked his hand off his cock. “I not doing that, just showing!”

“Calm down. I’m not accusing, just asking.” However, clearly by his response, the men of Drahka’s tribe did not masturbate. In a way, such a taboo made perfect sense. His tribe was relatively infertile. Each ejaculation was sacred and necessary for the continuation of his people. Self-fulfillment would be considered the height of selfishness.

Not only had Drahka been a virgin when he’d gone to Bithia, he’d been relatively untouched. If he could have swooned, Viltori would have. Drahka was a blank slate. Anything he or Bithia taught him about their culture he would believe, accept and likely perform. Heady with the erotic possibilities, then cautioned by the ethical dilemma, Viltori reluctantly wrapped his robe around his body.

Following suit, Drahka covered himself up too. “Is looking wrong?”

“No, I’m cold. Did you want to see more?” Gods, why was he asking? He should let this matter drop.

Drahka considered for a moment, then whispered, “Do you do solo touching?”

Technically, he wasn’t supposed to, but then he realized he was teaching and letting Drahka watch him masturbate could be considered a form of education. Or maybe he was just desperately trying to justify doing what he wanted to do.

“Do you want me to show you?” Viltori caught their reflection in a mirror strategically placed across from the couch. They made a wicked contrast: he in white, Drahka in crimson, his finger-length blond hair glowing, and Drahka’s long black hair gleaming. Drahka was bigger, broader, the silk of his robe caressing massive muscles below. Viltori was muscular too, but not like Drahka. In his tribe, Drahka had been a hunter, felling great beasts to feed the entire group. He also cut trees for their fires. Such hard labor gave him a remarkable body, one the elite would pay handsomely to mimic through surgical enhancement.

Drahka nodded. “Show me solo touching.”

Parting his robe, Viltori took his cock in hand, cradling his shaft with his dominant right hand as he cupped his balls with the left. “The trick is not to rush.” Gods no, he wasn’t going to rush. He wanted to enjoy every bit of this encounter. Desperately he prayed to the god of Harvesters that Bithia would not return until he was finished with his lesson.

Drahka watched intently for a moment, then parted his robe. He gripped his cock with his right hand and stroked, fumbling.

“Use your dominant hand.” Viltori nodded to his left.

Drahka switched to his left hand. Now his motions were sleek and exact, mimicking perfectly what Viltori did.

“Slowly?” Drahka asked. “Faster would feel better.”

“Stroke too fast and it’s over too fast.” Viltori had to summon the very depth of his will to continue with his measured, even strokes. “Solo touching is a way to learn to last longer when with a woman.”

“Ah, that is good to learn. Bithia happy with longer lasting.”

“Bithia will be happier with me lasting longer,” Viltori corrected automatically.

“Bithia will be happier with me lasting longer.” Drahka repeated the words, then looked to him for confirmation that he’d spoken correctly.

Viltori nodded, knowing full well his interest at the moment was not with Bithia’s pleasure. His gaze darted between his own hand, Drahka’s, and the mirror where he could see them both. Drahka’s body was big and covered in dark hair. Muscles flexed as he tightened his form to keep his mounting passion at bay.

“Feels good,” Drahka said, squeezing his fist a bit tighter, causing his foreskin to move smoothly up and down his shaft, exposing the slick, dusky-red tip.

Viltori thought he would climax right there. Drahka kept his gaze on Viltori’s hand, mimicking each motion. He followed along so exactly that when Viltori looked into the mirror he felt he was stroking Drahka’s cock. His mouth watered, desperate for a taste of him.

Behind them, they heard a click. Their eyes met, widened, and they hastily jumped to their feet. Viltori had his robe down covering his prick in an instant, but Drahka struggled with the open ends and the tied sash. Before he could determine if the couch was high enough to shield him from Bithia’s view, she looked directly into his eyes through one of the mirrors.

“Tell me, Viltori, exactly what have you been teaching my consort?”

Chapter Seven

Bithia should have let them finish their mutual masturbation session, but she did not wish to waste two such powerful eruptions. Making them wait would make the moment of climax even more profound. She found it difficult to decide which one she would have first, with one so dark and the other so light, and both men strong in different ways. Drahka was so curious and Viltori so knowledgeable. She knew Viltori had not always been an acolyte. Ambo confirmed he was once a recruit. That explained his muscular build and his easy acceptance of sex with another man. And it seemed Drahka’s curiosity was overtaking the ingrained teachings of his tribe.

Bithia felt ready for a day of lusty pleasures. Taking care of those she’d hurt by restoring them to their rightful places, for her appetites should not affect them, had filled her with pride. After a thorough verbal bashing, Ambo would never again punish her lovers. His blubbering apologies had filled her with loathing. She did not believe Ambo was sorry for what he’d done, only sorry for getting caught. Ambo seemed to forget he was not in charge. However, she needed him. For now.

When she’d checked on her consort’s teaching, she’d been stunned then excited by the possibilities. Behind the looking glass, she’d fingered herself almost to orgasm as she’d watched them. Clearly, Viltori was attracted to Drahka. And to herself, if she wasn’t mistaken. All that held him back was his silly notion of acolyte morality. At the moment Drahka seemed merely curious, not excited at the prospect of sex with Viltori, but that was fine too. She wanted them both focused on her. Their encounters with each other could come later, well after she was satisfied.

Timing her entrance to the critical moment, she’d walked in just as Viltori had begun to lose control of his timing. Caught in the act, Viltori hastily covered himself, then hung his head, shame slumping his shoulders. But she knew deep inside he wasn’t ashamed of what he’d been doing, only wary that he’d been caught. Mimicking his teacher, Drahka struggled with his robe, then gave up. Any other man would look comical with his hard and heavy prick hanging out from between the edges of his robe, but Drahka managed to look almost commanding.

“We do wrong?” Drahka whispered to Viltori, clearly confused. She noticed his grammar worsened when he was perplexed or flustered.

“There is no wrong,” Bithia said, causing Viltori to glance up at her, his brows lifted with curiosity. Below his white robe, his guilty cock created a slowly spreading wet spot. Stepping between the two men, she cupped Drahka, then Viltori. “Nothing wrong at all.”

Drahka’s lids settled low over his intense expression as he lifted his hips just enough to give her better leverage. His groan was one of deep pleasure as he said, “This is better when you touch.”

“Please,” Viltori whispered, closing his eyes tightly, “I cannot do this.”

He was convinced if he indulged his lust, he would be sent away. “Yes, you can.” While still stroking Drahka, she let go of Viltori and untied the sash of his robe. Tossing the tie onto the couch, she pushed the fabric off his shoulders, pooling the white
astle
on the floor behind his feet. “No longer are you an acolyte.”

Dark suspicion devoured a brief burst of joy. “What am I now, my lady?”

“Mine.” Before he could question her further, she stepped close. “Now help me show Drahka how to kiss.” Turning to Drahka, she drew him closer by tugging gently on his cock until he stood near her and Viltori.

“You show me this kiss?” Drahka asked.

“He is such an eager student.” Bithia slid her hand slowly along the wonderful length of Drahka’s cock. “And you are such a devoted teacher.” She gave Viltori’s cock a knowledgeable squeeze, then released him.

Viltori puckered his lips and pressed them against Bithia’s neck. Lifting his head to Drahka, he said, “You do that, but to her lips.” Edging away, so Drahka could not see, Viltori nipped the nape of her neck and whispered, “You might find owning me is a dangerous prospect.”

Bithia shivered in response. She’d had a feeling if she pushed him in just the right way, she could bring out his aggressive side. If he taught this to Drahka, the two men could keep her thoroughly satisfied. She did not care for wimpy men and Viltori was clearly not subservient. He’d bowed and mumbled abject apologies to appease her, but she could tell he did so for show. He honestly did not feel he was beneath her. Good. Because she didn’t think he was, either.

Drahka leaned close and pressed his mouth against hers. Tentative and curious, he held his lips to hers. Bithia lifted her hand to his head, kissing his lips softly at first, with small pecking motions, until he mimicked her.

“Now, open your mouth just a bit.” Viltori moved to her side to give himself a better view for instructions.

Slowly, Drahka opened his mouth. When Bithia slipped her tongue inside, he groaned, sending a shudder through her body. He tasted masculine and pure. Knowing she was the first and only woman he’d ever kissed thrilled the huntress inside. Such a moment must have excited Drahka too, because he grabbed the back of her head, leaned into her, then stabbed his tongue between her lips as if he were fucking her mouth.

“Gently, Drahka, not too aggressive,” Viltori murmured in both languages. “Give, but give lightly.”

Apparently, Viltori understood Drahka’s obsession with giving. If she could have, she would have brought him into her rooms last night to explain to the man that he didn’t always have to give so hard and fast. Not that she was opposed to rough couplings; to the contrary, she liked them very much, but not all the time. Variation, foreplay, teasing: these were the concepts Drahka must learn.

Drahka relaxed his hold on her head and continued his exploration, but with more grace. He pulled away just a bit, then said, “You kiss too. Show more.”

Bithia cast a wanton gaze to Viltori. “Yes, my servant, show more types of kissing.”

Anger tightened his lips at the derogatory title, but he spoke not a word.

“Come, now, Viltori. You won’t be able to kiss with such fury making your mouth so tight.”

Eyes narrowed dangerously, Viltori brought his face to hers. “By your wish, my lady.” He turned her head so that she faced him and then kissed the breath out of her. In that brief, shining moment, he captured her complete attention. He kissed her as if his life depended on it. As if he would rule her with the power of his lips, and he almost did. Just as she began to fall under his spell, he pulled away, casting her a triumphant smirk. To her shock, he grabbed the back of Drahka’s head and proceeded to kiss him with the same powerful passion.

Drahka’s startled expression gave way to a curious fumbling that Viltori tried to tame. Watching them clash tongues sent her senses reeling. Each tried to give more than the other, which made their kissing a battle. Back and forth the struggle for supremacy went until Bithia separated them with one palm to each man’s chest.

“I give, you take,” Drahka said, clearly perplexed that Viltori did not understand that concept.

“Now you know what last night was like for me,” Bithia said to Viltori.

“He’s alpha,” Viltori explained. “He doesn’t understand there can be give and take without threatening his position.”

Bithia laughed and whispered, “Seems to me he wants to dominate you.” Challenging him with the tilt of her face and the subtle lift of one brow, she asked, “What will you do now, teacher?”

In that moment, she knew she’d pushed him too far. A new and dangerous light bloomed in Viltori’s dark eyes. He wouldn’t allow anyone to dominate him, especially not her.

Slipping behind her, he captured her wrists, binding her quickly with the discarded sash of his robe. “I am a teacher, as you say, and I think the one who needs to learn is you.”

Before she could protest, he said something in Drahka’s native tongue. Eagerly he responded by pushing open her robe and cupping her breasts. Twisting her nipples until her peaks stood hard, he then lowered his mouth to them at Viltori’s command.

Bithia opened her mouth to issue an order, but Viltori turned her head to the side and filled her mouth with his tongue. Again, he kissed her until she was breathless. Pulling back just a fraction, he whispered against her lips, “You will submit, Bithia, or I will refuse to teach.”

“I am the empress,” she challenged. Even though she wanted Viltori, and wanted him aggressive, she would not allow him to hold power over her. No man would ever have command of her. “What makes you think you have any authority with me?”

“You gave me the idea yourself.”

Her mouth went dry at the certainty in his gaze.

Smiling slyly, he cupped her chin. Teasing his finger along her mouth, as if speculating about all the things he could put there, he whispered, “I am the only man on all of Diola who speaks your consort’s native tongue.” Viltori glanced to Drahka, who was eagerly playing with her breasts. “That makes me just as important as your consort.”

Too late, Bithia realized she’d placed herself firmly under Viltori’s thumb.

Chapter Eight

Drahka fondled Bithia’s breasts, loving the weight they made against his palms and the texture of her nipples in his mouth. Something on her skin tasted sweet and floral, a flavor he simply could not get enough of. He heard her and Viltori whispering back and forth, their voices low and heated. He understood what they said, but mostly he concentrated on touching his chosen. Her dark skin contrasted against his lighter skin just as Viltori’s even lighter skin contrasted against hers. The shading of their flesh was visually pleasing, as if they each blended into the other, then round again.