Authors: Patricia A. Knight
Ari blew out a long, slow breath. “I hate cockrings.”
“You will hate them worse tomorrow. Just remember,” his visconte taunted. “For Verdantia.”
Swearing quietly,
Ari gingerly rolled onto his stomach.
* * * * *
When Fleur had recovered enough to demand more, Doral handed his
Primo
Gabriella’s nasty cockrings. Ari could only shrug in good-natured resignation.
“I hope you enjoy watching me writhe, Visconte. Someone should get some pleasure from it.” Shuddering,
he slipped on the gold rings.
Doral did not
enjoy watching Ari writhe. He did not possess the disposition for extended torment. While some might not make the distinction, Doral thought of himself as a clean assassin—not a torturer. He never played with his targets. If he could arrange it, they never knew death was coming.
Understanding what Ari endured
, once was enough for him. In the aftermath of their second encounter, he rolled over to Ari’s straining cock and gently, carefully, removed the devilish rings from the conte’s body.
“By the seven hells of Jurossa, Doral, thank you.” A
pained grunt accompanied Ari’s thanks. “I’m in too much pain to move.”
“I understand.” The two men exchanged wincing glances.
Fleur was not as kind. Muttering something Doral didn't understand about “pig-headed and mule-headed,” she stared coolly at Ari. “No, my Lord, by my command, put those back on.”
His
Primo
had nodded his head curtly and silently relaxed against the headboard. From the expression on Ari’s face as he again closed the rings around his staff and balls, Fleur would do well to tread carefully. In the past year and a half, those on the receiving end of that particular look never fared very well.
She cast appraising glances
at Ari as the trio pleasured each other. “You enjoy pulling your partner to the vicious edge of release, then torturing them with denial. I think a little of your own back might make you more sympathetic, warlord.”
“I
did nothing that is not required by the rites.” Ari grunted as her warm sheath slid up and down slowly on his insanely aroused shaft.
“It is your
enjoyment
of my suffering, of Doral’s suffering, that chafes. Perhaps you need to have a more intimate acquaintance with what it is you do to us.” Sliding off him, she rolled to Doral, mounting his cock with a controlled swirl of her hips.
As they crescendoed, Ari writhed in helpless arousal, held viciously at the moment of orgasm by the gold cockrings
frustrating his release. His outrageously hard shaft slapped his stomach in dry, erratic jerks and pulses that another time would result in the blessed relief of ejaculation. Choked animal grunts escaped his clenched jaw as he was reduced to watching, agonized, while his
Segundo
and his
Prima
climaxed ecstatically.
As Fleur and
Doral lay boneless in the aftermath of their orgasm, Ari panted heavily and eyed them with a wildly feral glint in his eyes. Fleur’s eyes, half-lidded in gratification, languid with a pleasure hangover, slid over his tortured body. She smiled in satisfaction. “Now you know how your partners feel.”
A
primal and unrestrained snarl echoed above the rumbling vibrations, as if a demon-wolf stalked the chamber. Ari tore off the gold cockrings. Gold gleamed, flying through the air, bouncing off the farthest wall with a melodic chime, then rolling into the center of the chamber, coming to rest on their sides. “Damn those torturous devices to the seven hells!”
He
turned on Fleur with breathtaking savagery. Initially, his violence alarmed Doral. Barely restraining himself, ready to physically intervene, Doral quickly realized first, that, while she might be left with some tender spots, Ari was not hurting Fleur; and second, she was quite intentionally goading him. The little hell-cat was deliberately spurring him on with her physical resistance and verbal provocation, inciting him to lose his much-vaunted self-control.
* * * * *
“Not wonderful to be on the receiving end, is it, Conte?” Fleur spat, struggling fiercely to free her hands from Ari’s grasp. “How does it feel to be tortured with arousal and helpless?”
She was hopelessly outmatched.
Ari swung his leg over her writhing hips, pinning her underneath him. As insanely aroused and furious as he was, he had to admire her. She never stopped fighting him although the outcome was certain. He would win.
“You little witch, you have no idea
who you play with,” he snarled back. Working his hips between her thrashing thighs, he plunged into her with a heavy surge.
“Keep struggling, Your Majesty, it makes it
better.” Ari grunted, hilting himself repeatedly.
“
Brute!” she screamed, inches from his snarling face. “Conceited, lumbering ass!”
It took one more stroke of his engorged shaft capped by her plunging body to
finish him. “By the seven hells!” He groaned. Still holding her hands trapped above her head, he collapsed, mindless.
“Get off me, Ari. You hulking
bully.”
H
e lay there for a few moments, ignoring her squirms. “Not enough.” Raising himself onto his elbows, feeling her heavy pants on his face, he smiled. “I. Have. Not. Had. Nearly—enough.”
Her eyes widened and she choked off
the insult hovering on her lips.
“
Ohhh, yesss, Your Majesty, be scared.” Ari leaned down and nipped up her neck to her lips, jerking away as she tried to bite him. A low rumble of satisfied laugher vibrated in his chest.
“Oh no, you are done fighting
. Now, you do a little suffering of your own.”
“What do you mean?” Though breathy, her voice filled with suspicion. “What are you going to do?”
He gripped both her wrists in one of his large hands, a hand that was capable of beheading an enemy with one swipe of a blade. Still sunk deeply into her, his lower body effectively pinned her.
“I’m going do a little bit of my own torturing.” His free hand descended in a caressing swipe to her breast, holding its weight in his palm and grazing her nipple with his thumb.
“Ari,” she gasped, “please, no more!”
“When I get through, you will be
begging
for more.” His pubic bone surged slow circles up and down her wet mound. “You will beg me to let you come.”
He was right.
In the aftermath, through slumberous eyes, he captured Doral with a feral gaze and whispered, “You are next.” Pure exhaustion interceded before he made good on that threat.
* * * * *
A few hours before daylight, the trio left the ritual chamber in the sigil tower to seek their beds. With a depth of yearning that surprised him, Doral watched Ari lovingly support Fleur as they staggered through their apartment doors without a backward glance.
Doral
didn’t presume the
Tetriarch
assured his presence in their marriage bed. In fact, outside of his position as
Segundo
, the uncertainty of his exact standing with either of them nagged at him. He dismissed Fleur’s declarations of love for him. The darling girl had been “under the influence” as it were. And Ari? He knew Ari wanted him physically, had some warmly possessive feelings about him. He didn’t dare hope Ari desired the more substantial relationship his heart yearned to have.
Our genetics brought us together, no other reason
. Doral crawled into the cool sheets, alone.
What I have now is enough
. It was far more than he ever had before.
He savagely ridiculed himself for the hope that they could come to love
him
.
No one could love ‘Contradina’s Abomination’. They will find out about me eventually. What little humanity remains in my soul will die if Ari and Fleur look on me with the revulsion and fear I see in others but it is only a matter of time; too many people know.
He closed his eyes against the brutal, clawing pain of that thought and willed himself into nothingness, divorcing himself from any feeling, physical or emotional. His mind sped
down that well-traveled road. In moments, he floated in a black void of non-existence—his one certain, refuge.
* * * * *
Far too early the next morning, the High Enclave Council called Ari, Fleur and Doral to the Council Chambers. He and Fleur sat, blearily waiting for the session to come to order. Doral, far more alert, surreptitiously took in every detail of the chamber. Ari followed his gaze. The only oddity he could determine was a very large map, held by an easel, sitting to the side.
Doral is hovering over us like a worried nursemaid.
Poor man. Now there are two of us to fret over. By all the gods, every part of me hurts.
He’d paid heavily for his enjoyment of Doral's torment last night.
The present reclaimed
his attention when Elder Patricio rose and called the Enclave to order. Facing the triumvirate, the elder began. “Your Lordships, Your Majesty, we would like to report to you on some of the results from last night.”
“
As we had hoped, during sexual arousal and orgasm the three of you create a harmonic pattern that generates astounding amounts of energy. That energy, in the presence of Verdantian crystal, is transmitted in a 360-degree radius to be absorbed by other crystals. When fully saturated, one crystal spills energy over to the next crystal and so forth in a cascading flow of power.” The elder tried, unsuccessfully, to contain a broad smile. “This morning, we had reports from as far away as Spatioso Mintoth on activity in
diamantorre
dead for over three years. The potential you three possess to empower all the
diamantorre
on Verdantia, while never leaving Sylvan Mintoth, is without comparison in the recorded history of Verdantia.”
“
Primo
, it is crucial we send patrols to our
diamantorre
in these eight areas.” Elder Patricio crossed to the map and indicated areas already colored. “We need reports on the status of the dais crystals and we no longer have population in these places.” The elder paused for a few moments. “While status reports continue to filter in through various sources, we know we have an intact energy shield for a radius of five thousand, seven hundred and fifty-two miles surrounding Sylvan Mintoth.”
He
heard an unfamiliar squawking honk. As he scanned the chamber to identify the sound, he realized it was Patricio laughing. The elder recovered quickly from his unprecedented show of humor. “I don't know what you did last night, but it blew the sigil power grids. You could hear and feel the vibrations in the lower city, and see the blazing light from Sylvan Mintoth's tower in the streets below for miles. In my lifetime, I don't know of this happening. You weren't even in the dais chamber. I am totally confounded.” The elder almost levitated in his excitement.
“
Elder.”
“
Yes,
Segundo
.”
“
What is the best way to complete the regeneration of the sigil towers? Is it prolonged arousal or climax?”
“
Um, well, actual orgasm produces large amounts in a short burst, but a lengthy time period of extreme arousal can actually create many times more. It is why
cinnagin
is used in the
Great Rite
.” Patricio paused. “In your case, your three genetic structures interact to produce many times the harmonic energies a normal ritual would create, so you are ahead of the norm whatever you do.”
Patricio looked at
Ari and asked matter-of-factly, “Was your arousal last night comparable to what you experienced during the
Great Rite
?”
Ari
lifted an eyebrow and through narrowed eyes, shot a pointedly accusatory glance at Fleur. “Vastly more intense.”
Fleur chewed on her lower lip
, perilously close to smiling, and then murmured a half-hearted and patently insincere, “Sorry.”
Doral choked and covered his mouth, coughing to disguise an unwilling laugh at
Ari’s
sotto voce,
“Pig-headed she-devil.” The pleasant expression on Ari’s face and the caress in his voice failed to disguise the softly spoken insult.
Fleur found her shoes intensely fascinating.
The rustle and amused whispers of the elders filled the chamber. Patricio turned and eyed them coldly. Silence settled over the room.
Fleur's gentle voice filled the momentary pause.
“Elder Patricio, can you estimate – with the energy absorbed by the outlying sigil towers – how long will these shield walls hold?”
“
Your Majesty, we cannot so estimate. We must get a comprehensive tabulation of what towers are active and monitor how long they stay that way.”