Embrace the Wind (8 page)

“A dungeon cell,” she replied, sweeping a hand to offer him the bare stone walls

and floor. “I am a no-frills woman and I like stark things. It is where I am comfortable.”

Comfort was not something he would have equated with this dank, dismal and

dark room, but if this was where she was happy, he could bide his time here as needed.

Although the room reminded him vividly of a prison where he’d spent too many weeks

cooling his heels until Morrigunia rescued him.

“Argent says you are worried that you will not satisfy our needs,” she said as he

moved his fingers to her other nipple.

“I want to make all three of you happy,” he said.

“You are doing that already,” she said then swept a pretty little tongue over her

upper lip. “Now untie me and take me into the punishment chamber.”

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Eanan’s brows drew together. “And where might that be?”

“Through there,” she said, nudging her chin toward the foot of the bed, and when

he looked, he saw a door he could have sworn had not been there the moment before.

He realized he should learn to simply go with the flow and take things as they were

presented to him so he began untying her wrists.

“It has always been my dream to have a master,” she said. “One dressed all in

black. One with a heavy hand, a powerful body and a thick cock to stretch me.”

Eanan’s cock stirred at her words. He could have sworn he heard the treacherous

little muscle shouting, “
Come on, Reaper! Come on, come on, come
on
! Hurry it up! Time’s

wasting! Hop to! Get a move on! Don’t keep the wench waiting
!”

Mentally shaking his head, he made quick work of untying her ankles.

“Now command me to crawl to yon chamber, Master,” she said as she sat up, and

looked at him with adoring eyes.

“Ah, wench, I don’t think…” he began, but she was off the bed and on all fours as

she crawled slowly across the cold stone floor.

“Right away, Master! I’ll do whatever you say, Master!” she said as though he had

ordered her. “Please be merciful, Master!”

The door to what she had labeled the punishment chamber opened of its own

accord and a freezing cold wind blew into the bedchamber. Eanan was buffeted by the

force of the air current and as she disappeared into the dark room beyond, he drew in a

long, steadying breath then followed her, as unsure of what he’d find and his own

reactions to it as he’d ever been in his three hundred some odd years.

“Mother of the goddess!” he whispered as he took in the replica of an ancient

torture chamber complete with dripping walls, rats scurrying around on the dirty rushstrewn floor and smoky exposed ceiling beams. There was a rack, an iron maiden,

shackles hanging from the ceiling, a low table holding a variety of instruments—most of

which he had absolutely no intention of touching much less applying to her lovely

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body. There was even a glowing brazier with a branding iron thrusting out of its

yellow-red interior.

“
That
will have to go!” he snapped, pointing at the dangerous thing.

“It’s just there for effect,” she assured him.

“Just as long as you remember that,” he grumbled.

“What is your pleasure, Master?” he heard Corallin say, and tore his gaze from a

pair of iron boots. “Would you like to tie me to the rack and have your wicked way

with me?” Her eyes were eager, alive with desire. “Or would you prefer to bind me in

leather and make me suckle you?”

That sent a stab of pure heat through his cock! He had to clear his throat in order to

speak. This was way over his head and not something he’d ever entertained even in his

adolescent wet dreams. Pain and torture were as foreign to him when it came to sex as

lying with another man would be, and he’d experienced enough pain and torture in real

life not to want it in his sex life.

“Wench, this is…”

“Grab me and lash me to the whipping frame,” she said, cutting him off. “Take the

quirt to me for daring to sample the wares of your best friend, your sergeant major!”

“You sampled the wares of my…?” He stopped, understanding the need on her

lovely face and then nodded slowly, knowingly. “Ahhh,” he drawled. “You dared

spread your thighs for him, did you?”

Corallin trembled. “Aye, forgive me, Master. I could not help myself. I fear I am a

shameless whore.”

He walked to her, bent down and took her arm, dragging her carefully to her feet.

With his hands circling her upper arms, he shook her lightly. “You dare admit it,

wench?”

She lowered her eyes. “Forgive me.”

“Since you lay with Cornelius, you will suffer the consequences!”

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“Cornelius?” she questioned, and her eyes danced with laughter.

“Was it Maximus then?” he inquired with a thunderous brow, backing her toward

the X-shaped frame. “Or was it Flavius?”

She lifted her chin. “It was with all three.”

Eanan widened his eyes. “Well, then you’ll suffer three times as greatly, you

deceitful bawd!”

He spun her around and shoved her gently against the frame, jerking one arm up

and holding her there with his body as he locked the shackle around her wrist. As he

manacled the other, he slid his thigh between her legs to spread them apart and put his

lips to her ear.

“You will pay for all your transgressions, my sweet one.”

Once more Corallin shivered, and by the time he had her ankles locked into place,

she was trembling constantly. The moment he ran his hand between her legs to cup her

sex, she all but came on his fingers.

“Wet but not wet enough,” he said. He thrust into her and pried her roughly apart

to finger her clit. “By the time I am through with you, you’ll let no other man touch

you!”

Despite his every instinct screaming against it, he found her silken quirt with the

tiny leather balls attached to the ends and used it sparingly on her luscious little ass,

standing to one side as he applied the punishment until her cheeks were rosy and she’d

had two violent climaxes. He trailed the handle between her legs and impaled her with

it then lightly flogged her shoulders until she was writhing with another climax. Then

he took her brutally from behind as her fingers dug into the wood of the whipping

frame with her cries goading him to rougher treatment.

By the time he left her chambers the next morning, Eanan Tohre was as satiated as

his lady and yawning wildly.

* * * * *

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Charlotte Boyett-Compo

“What is this called again?” Aureolin inquired.

“Sixty-nine,” Eanan said as he adjusted the hold he had on her hips. His ass was in

her face and the warmth of her breath when she spoke hit him right where it sent

tremors of delight racing through his balls.

“Oh aye. I remember now,” she said, and swiped her tongue over his right cheek,

laughing when he flinched, dragging his swollen cock along her chin.

“Wench,” he warned, “do that again and I’ll come all over your face!”

Aureolin was the fun one, he thought. Her room was girlishly done in gingham and

lace and stuffed animals dominated. The furniture was painted white and the bed was a

large canopy style with ruffles. The color scheme was pale blue with drawings of all the

Reapers in myriad poses adorning the walls. She was a talented artist with an eye for

the quirky so many of the drawings were caricatures. The ones of Owen had made him

double over with laughter.

To go along with her sense of whimsy, she had a wicked sense of humor and

thought nothing of goosing him when he was near his climax. The first three times

they’d made love had been the ordinary ways—him on top, her on top, against the

wall—but she had wanted something more.

“Something only you and I will do together,” she had announced. “Something

unique to us.”

At first he thought he detected a hint of jealousy or resentment toward his

relationship with her sisters but then he realized that wasn’t the situation at all.

“We don’t mind sharing you, Eanan,” she said as though she’d read his mind. “You

belong to us.”

“Are you sure, Blondie?” he inquired.

“Very sure,” she said with a nod. “We each have just what we want. Why ever

would we be jealous?”

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She’d simply wanted to share something with him that marked their partnership to

make it special for her.

Oral sex was just the ticket. She enjoyed blowing him as no woman he’d ever

known and she thought nothing of swallowing his cum and smacking her lips as

though it were a treat.

She liked it with him straddling her face as she lay on her back upon the bed, her

hands on his balls.

She liked it with him standing and her kneeling at his feet.

She liked it as she lay with her head dangling over the side of the mattress and his

cock pistoning in and out of her open mouth as he stood by the bed.

Once more she blew her breath across his ass and the muscle contracted at the same

time his cock leapt in anticipation. Before he could warn her again, she stuck a finger

high inside him and it was all he could do not to shoot all over her.

“Damn it, wench! Don’t!” he cried out then sucked in a harsh breath as she

swallowed his straining cock and he came like a fucking race horse.

The woman liked oral sex way too much but he was going to make gods-bedamned sure she
loved
it when he reciprocated and did her at the same time she did

him.

Utilizing some of the playacting he’d learned with her redheaded sister, he ordered

her to get him hard again and she set about to do just that. He was determined the next

time he would be in full charge of the situation, taking it in hand.

“Oh no you don’t!” he protested as she started to suckle him and ran his tongue

along the folds of her sex.

“Reaper!” she hissed, clamping her thighs to his head.

For the next hour and a half, he suckled her clit mercilessly until she groaned, thrust

his tongue in and out of her cunt until she was writhing and twisting like an eel, licked

and lapped and nibbled even as she took him as far into her mouth as her relaxed throat

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would allow, drawing tautly on his flesh. He fingered her for added benefit and she

kneaded his balls in exchange. They rolled onto their sides—first the right then the

left—and did it again and again. The sounds coming from the bed were wet and loud

and thoroughly enjoyable to them both.

This time when he trudged slowly to his own chambers, Eanan was bone-tired and

weaving, barely able to drag himself to bed.

* * * * *

“You poor baby,” Argent said as she cradled him to her.

His head was on her shoulder as she smoothed the hair from his forehead. They

were both damp from lovemaking and he’d fallen asleep atop her with his lower body

between her legs.

“They wore me out,
lheelh,”
he complained. “I could barely walk this afternoon

when I woke and now look at me. I’m drained.”

“You’ve another round or two in you, Reaper,” she assured him.

Eanan groaned. “Oh hell no I don’t. We’ve only made love once since I came

through your door and although my spirit is willing, my body ain’t. All my body wants

to do is go back to sleep and that’s just not right.”

She smiled. “Then let’s talk,” she said.

“About what?”

“The thing that is bothering you still,” she said.

He shifted his body from hers and turned to his back, closing his eyes. “I just can’t

get my head around this sharing thing,” he said.

“I know,” she said softly. “We’ll help you through it, dearling.”

“Owen says I’m fucked.”

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“What would Owen know? Owen is a stick in the mud,” she said. “Always has

been, always will be. Rachel is doing all she can to pry him out of the sludge but he is

resistant to change.”

“The little ones will help,” Eanan said, and tried to hide a yawn.

“Aye, they will. Having children can give a man a sense of his own youth and I

think that’s what Owen Tohre needs.”

Eanan nodded, too tired to even agree.

“What you need is the three of us reminding you that you are loved—well and

truly—and that you will always have us at your back.”

He opened one eye and turned his head to look at her. “Even with the

Shadowlords?”

“Especially with the Shadowlords.”

He smiled wearily. “That’s good to know because I tend to be a fuck-up,
lheelh
.
Ask

Morri. She’ll tell you.”

There was a hard silence and Eanan pried the other eye open to look at the woman

he was already considering to be his wife. “What?”

“As was ordained long ago, She gave you to us and we have great respect for Her

but She had best leave you alone from here onward. She may be a goddess but we

answer to a higher power than She.”

Eanan blinked. “There is a higher power?”

“Indeed there is,” Argent replied. “Much higher.”

“Huh,” he said, surprised, but she didn’t give him a chance to ask further about it.

“Turn over and I’ll give you a rubdown,” she ordered. “Your muscles are as tight as

a new drum head.”