Then he pressed his face back between her legs and Neh’sa felt his tongue dive deep into her pussy as he circled her aching clit with two fingers.
Oh Goddess, she thought incoherently. So good…feels so good…
It was too much…and just enough. In a warm, overwhelming rush like a tidal wave, she felt her orgasm overtake her and pull her out to sea. Crying and gasping, she pushed back against his seeking mouth, giving herself to him as she hadn’t given herself to any male in over ten years.
“Thorn,” she moaned. “Oh, Goddess, yes—I’m coming…you’re making me come so hard.”
* * * * *
Thorn was in fucking heaven and it wasn’t just his Kindred side responding to the situation. The Enfuego part of him had also awakened and with it a fierce possessiveness like nothing he’d ever known. He’d tasted her twice before this but only briefly—this was the first time he’d licked her to the peak and tasted the honey of her orgasm. Most males didn’t understand it but the special nectar a female’s pussy made at the moment she came was filled with hormones which Thorn’s Enfuego half responded to with intense possessive fire.
Mine, growled a voice in his head and he felt the fire inside him rising dangerously high. Neh’sa was his now and if any other male tried to lay a hand on her, the fire would emerge to protect the female his body claimed as a mate.
Dimly, Thorn realized this wasn’t a good thing. After all, Neh’sa was his Mistress, not his lover or his mate. He had no control over her actions—over where she went or who she saw. But it didn’t matter to the fire inside him—all it knew was that Neh’sa was his now, his to protect and his to claim. No other male had better come within touching distance of her or they would pay the price.
Neh’sa continued to writhe and moan against him and Thorn licked her to orgasm several more times, savoring her sweet juices as they flowed with each one. He loved the feeling of her velvety pussy clenching around his tongue and fingers, loved the hot, helpless sounds she made and the way she begged so brokenly for him to make her come.
The last orgasm he forced from her.
She was moaning by that time and twitching her hips, whispering in a broken voice that she couldn’t take anymore. Thorn couldn’t help remembering his own, similar words—his pleas that she would stop whatever sexual torture she was performing on him because he couldn’t bear another moment. And when Neh’sa started saying the same, he treated her as she had treated him.
“Be quiet, sweetheart,” he growled, still lapping her spread pussy idly, teasing her quivering little clit with the tip of his tongue. “You’re not done coming until I say you are. Now be a good girl and ride my tongue again. I want to taste your sweet nectar gushing for me and hear you moaning one more time and then I’ll let you go.”
“Thorn, I’m your Mistress—” she started to protest but he sucked her clit between his lips and lashed the tender little bud with his tongue, making her gasp and buck against his face.
“Not right now, you’re not,” he growled, releasing her. “Most of the time you might be my owner but right now your little pussy belongs to me. And I’m going to make it gush honey for me one more time before I stop.”
After that, Neh’sa seemed to give up the idea of taking charge of the situation. With a soft little moan of resignation, she pressed back against him, spreading her tender pussy once more for his lapping tongue, submitting to his mouth on her.
This time, Thorn couldn’t help himself. He unwrapped one of his arms from around her thighs and reached down to twitch the black loincloth to one side. From the time she’d brought him to her domicile, Neh’sa had taken charge of his orgasms, deciding when and where he should come.
Part of him liked that, in a way—liked giving her control of his body to tease and torment sexually—he had to admit it. But tasting his Mistress had caused the fire inside him to go into overdrive. He could feel his eyes heating as the sparks dancing in them turned to flames. It was an unsafe situation—he needed a release.
He still couldn’t touch himself because of the non-contact bracelets. But the mattress of the bed was firm and the sheets covering it were silky. As Neh’sa cried and gasped her pleasure and pressed her wet, open folds to his seeking tongue, Thorn pressed his long, achingly hard shaft against the bed and began to thrust. When she came again, her pussy spasming around his tongue, he felt his cock begin to jerk. As she moaned his name he pressed hard against the mattess and, short, hard spurts of come jetted from the tip of his shaft—a release almost painful in its pleasure.
It was intense—so intense that Thorn was fucking glad he was kneeling on the floor. If not, his legs might have given way. He felt surrounded by Neh’sa—by the sight of her, the scent of her, the sweet feminine taste of her pussy and the soft, broken sound of her moans.
Mine, he thought again, almost deliriously. She’s mine and I’ll never let her go.
It was unlike anything he’d ever felt with a female and he never wanted it to end.
It did end at last, though. Neh’sa sagged in his arms and he remembered how terribly exhausted she’d been when he brought her home. Had he pushed her too far?
Anxiously, he rose from his knees and got on the bed with her, gathering her small form into his arms.
“Neh’sa sweetheart? You all right?” he asked, looking down into her lovely face.
“I…I think so,” she said faintly. “Goddess, I lost track of how many times you made me come.”
“Five or six.” Thorn licked his lips. “Last one was the best.”
“Definitely the most intense.” She sighed, her eyelids fluttering closed. “We should…should talk about this. But I can’t right now. So…tired.”
“Sleep then, Mistress,” Thorn murmured, reverting to her formal title. “Sleep in my arms tonight.”
“Shouldn’t,” she murmured and yawned. “Told you…I don’t…we can’t…”
“Yes, we can,” he said firmly. Lifting the covers, he slid them both beneath the sheets and curled her small body into the curve of his much larger one.
Tomorrow they could deal with how Neh’sa felt about what he’d done. Tonight he just wanted to sleep with her in his arms, to feel her close and know she was safe and they were together.
Together, whispered a little voice in his brain. But for how much longer? The ceremony at the Library of All Knowledge is coming up soon. And then you’ll have to betray her—betray your beloved “Mistress” and leave her high and dry, not even knowing where you went.
Thorn pushed the troubling voice away. He couldn’t think about that now. He needed to sleep and to hold Neh’sa in his arms, feeling her small, soft body with its lush curves pressed against him.
Neh’sa seemed to need the same thing. With a soft, contented sigh, she settled back against him and they drifted off together.
Chapter Sixteen
Goddess, I did it again—only this time it’s so much worse! was Neh’sa’s first thought on waking in the big Kindred’s arms.
Yet, despite the shame she felt at submitting to him and the knowledge that she had done the exact wrong thing, there was a part of her that wanted to stay where she was, safe and secure, held snugly in the curve of his big body. That traitorous little part whispered that it wasn’t so bad what she’d done—it had felt good, felt right to let Thorn take control for once. And his arms felt so deliciously warm around her. Why couldn’t she just close her eyes again, snuggle closer to his broad chest, and go back to sleep?
Because you’ll lose the upper hand completely if you do, Neh’sa told herself sternly. Because you’ve already done enough damage last night when you cried in his arms and allowed him to comfort you. Not to mention afterwards when you let him to take the upper hand. No Mistress should ever behave so with her body-slave and you know it!
Her mind drifted back to Heroth…but no. Thorn wasn’t Heroth and she was older and wiser now than she had been during that first relationship. Old enough and wise enough to know that allowi
ng a male body-slave—especially one she’d had for less than a full solar week—to take control sexually was a bad idea.
Forcing herself wider awake, Neh’sa shrugged off his heavy bicep and sat up, putting some distance between herself and the big Kindred.
Thorn was instantly awake.
“Neh-sa?” he murmured, looking up at her with a questioning expression in his mismatched eyes.
“I have told you before, Thorn, you are to call me Mistress at all times.” Neh’sa made her voice crack like a whip in the stillness of the bedchamber. “And you ought to be sleeping in your own assigned space—not invading mine.”
His eyes opened wider and a look she couldn’t interpret passed over his face. Anger maybe? Irritation?
Now he’s going to argue and complain and point out that I didn’t object to our sleeping arrangements last night after he held me down and pleasured me with his mouth, Neh’sa thought, dreading the inevitable debate.
It was beneath her as a Mistress to argue with a body-slave. She would have to discipline him or possibly even use the stunner on him to bring him back into line and she really, really didn’t want to do that. It represented a fundamental loss of control on her part if she had to resort to physical intimidation to compel his submission. If she had to use the stunner on Thorn, she’d be no better than Mistresses like Lady Wraith’neck who used a pain collar or an agony-prod
Goddess, this was all her fault! She had ruined his training herself and there might be no way to get it back on track. Why hadn’t she stuck to the proper protocol? Why had she been so weak and needy and allowed him to take the upper hand?
But then, as suddenly as the anger crossed his face, it was gone again. Without a word of protest, he slid from the bed and knelt beside it, his head bowed.
“Forgive me, Mistress,” he rumbled. “For taking liberties.”
Neh’sa stared at him in surprise. Was he really being compliant even after last night? And if so, why?
“Well…” she said, uncertain how to proceed since his actions were so different from what she’d anticipated. “I, um…think it’s time for First Meal. We have much to do today—it’s time we got moving.”
“I’ll instruct the food prep droids to begin your First Meal at once,” Thorn murmured. “Do you know what you’ll be wearing to the banquet at Club Carnivorous tonight?”
To be honest, Neh’sa hadn’t even thought about the banquet. Now it occurred to her she’d promised Thorn he could come with her but only if he earned his collar through obedience.
Goddess, what was she going to do? She couldn’t appear at the most prestigious social club in town without a proper body-slave but how could she reward Thorn’s actions of the night before with a collar? He’d snuck out of her domicile to follow her to the clinic, had carried her back home, then taken control sexually and refused to stop, even when she begged him, until he made her come over and over again.
Yes and you loved every minute of it, the accusing little voice in her head pointed out.
Neh’sa tried unsuccessfully to push it away as she answered Thorn’s question.
“I…have a dress which I specially ordered for the banquet,” she said.
“Very good, Mistress,” he rumbled. “And what will I be wearing?”
“I haven’t said if you’re coming with me,” Neh’sa said sharply. “I…I haven’t decided yet if you’ve earned your collar.”
She expected Thorn to argue with her about that but he only arched an eyebrow at her.
“Where is Club Carnivorous located anyway?” he asked.
“Downtown,” Neh’sa said, frowning. “Actually only a few blocks over from the clinic where you followed me last night.”
“Then I’m going.” The sparks in his blue and green eyes were whirling like tiny specks of fire. “There’s no way in the Seven Hells I’m letting you go down there again without protection.”
“You’ll go if I say you can go,” Neh’sa said, glaring at him.
“I’ll follow you if you try to leave me here.” There was fire in his eyes but he spoke in a quiet tone that went strangely with his rebellious words.
Neh’sa realized with some dismay that he wasn’t actually rebelling—he was simply stating a fact. He absolutely would not allow her to go alone into a place he felt was dangerous without him.
“Thorn—” she began but he cut her off.
“You’re mine now, Mistress. After last night, you belong to me as much as I belong to you. And if you know as much about Kindred nature as you claim to, you’ll understand that I cannot let you go into a dangerous situation if I’m not there to protect you.”
He rose from his knees—he had been kneeling all this time—and Neh’sa couldn’t help thinking all over again how very huge and muscular he was.
“I’ll submit to you, Mistress,” he told her, opening his palms in a gesture of supplication. “I’m yours to command in all things. But don’t ask me to leave your side when there might be danger anywhere you go. I’ve seen the way repressed and owned males look at females here and I’ve heard about the resistance gangs that roam the streets, looking to cause trouble. Besides, don’t you think Lady Wraith’neck is going to be there tonight? What if she brings another Clopsian with her?”
“Thorn…” she began and then trailed off. Everything he’d said was true. Of course, it was also true that she’d been going to the clinic by herself for years now and nothing bad had ever befallen her. Not because she didn’t want it to, though.
I’ve been tempting fate for ages, Neh’sa suddenly realized. Wishing I might be killed in some quick, violent way—anything to take away the pain of Heroth’s loss.
And now, suddenly, she found she no longer wanted to take that risk.
“Thorn,” she began again, but was uncertain how to continue. She licked her lips, which were suddenly dry.
“Please, Mistress—don’t ask me to leave you in danger. Don’t ask me to choose between obedience and my protective instincts because my instincts will win every time.” He came over to her—she was still sitting on the edge of the bed—and bent to take her small hands in his. “I have to come with you tonight,” he murmured, searching her eyes with his own. “I fucking have to.”
“I…I suppose you’ve earned your collar,” Neh’sa heard herself saying. “You did submit very well when…when I used the silver rod on you.” She didn’t add that she had submitted to him as well—to his tongue in her pussy—and Thorn didn’t bring it up either.
Instead, he turned her hands over and laid soft kisses in each of her palms. Then he looked at her again and said simply, “Thank you, Mistress.”
“You’re welcome, Thorn.” Neh’sa wished her voice didn’t sound so breathless but she couldn’t seem to help it.
For a long moment their gazes locked and she felt something hot and needy unfolding in her lower belly, like some kind of neglected flower unfurling its petals. Then the big Kindred nodded and released her hands.
“I’ll go see to your First Meal, Mistress,” he said and left her bedchamber.
Neh’sa watched him go, wondering what she was going to do.
Chapter Seventeen
Club Carnivorous was in an even more dangerous part of the city than Neh’sa’s Mercy Clinic. More dangerous because it was crowded with a substrata of the entire Opulex population, both high and low, and all of them seemed to be milling around the club.
Bonded body-slaves fitted with pain collars hurried down the packed streets, their eyes downcast, clearly out on errands for exacting and impatient Mistresses. There were also free males who belonged to no Mistress. They wore ragged clothing and scowling, resentful looks on their haggard faces. Most of them were homeless, Thorn recalled, from his research into Yonnie Six, and none of them had any hope of moving up in a society where males were considered less than dirt beneath a wealthy Mistress’s feet.
Mingled among the males both owned and free were street urchins—also all males, Thorn noted—who
dodged in and out of the press of adults.
In front of the club itself were six or seven huge, heavily muscled armed guards which looked to have been cybernetically enhanced. Bouncers to keep the male riff-raff away from the well-heeled Mistresses. The high society females were emerging one by one from their luxurious floating hover-cars leading one or two or sometimes even three body-slaves on long leashes attached to collars.
Thorn reached up reflexively to feel for the collar which encircled his own neck. Of course, it wasn’t a pain collar like most of those poor bastards were wearing. His was plain black leather without even a clip for a leash—Neh’sa believed that a proper body-slave should follow his Mistress of his own free will and be where she needed him at all times. The collar was unremarkable to look at with just a tiny square in the center with Neh’sa’s family crest stamped on it in pale blue and gold.
But the Spartan appearance of the collar belied its true value. It was made of vadin hide—a rare predator which lived in the northern mountains of Jarvel, an ice world in a different solar system from Yonnie Six. The hide had to be aged for no less than twelve cycles and then tanned in a process that took another twelve cycles. It was then dyed with an expensive indelible pigment made from black pembla-flower blossoms. A thousand flowers had to be plucked, winnowed, and crushed in order to make enough of the pigment for one collar and their cost was extraordinarily high.
The result of all this labor, time, and effort was a butter-soft leather which was as pliable as silk and as strong as plasti-steel. It was so thin Thorn felt he ought to be able to rip it off his neck like it was made of paper. But after tugging on it—Neh’sa had invited him to do so—he realized that his head would come off sooner than the collar would.
“This collar will remain around your neck for as long as I own you,” she told Thorn, sealing the black leather around his neck with a heated laser key which she then hung on a chain around her own neck. “No blade or flame can cut it from you—only by my hand will you be freed.”
“Yes, Mistress.” Thorn had been kneeling to allow her to place the black collar around his neck. It gave him a strange sensation to feel it close around his throat—the strongest feeling yet of being owned by her.