Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
The polished wooden frame stood like a gallows in the center of the room. The stares of the Noblewomen and their leashed and caged husbands were physical weights on her skin. She could feel the cold, slick weight of the onyx toy in her hand, its purpose both alien and terrifyingly clear.
She didn’t know how they would get through it. She’d had fantasies of doing something like this with Braze—dark, secret little thoughts in the dead of night about power and control, sparked by his obvious devotion. But those were private…safe. This was a grotesque parody—a public spectacle orchestrated by a cruel Empress who cared for nothing but her own power and pleasure.
A public humiliation for the proud, strong warrior who had protected her so faithfully…and she, Kaitlyn was going to be the one humiliating him.
But looking at Braze—at the tense set of his jaw, and the widened pupils that spoke of the fire of need raging inside him—she knew there was no other path. She couldn’t let him fight—he’d tear the palace apart, and they’d kill him. Better he should hate her for violating him in public than for her Protector to die because of her unwillingness to rise to the occasion.
If Braze had to go through this, she was going to do it with him—even if it changed everything between them forever.
“How do we do this?” she whispered, hoping he would know.
Braze’s eyes softened for a fraction of a second.
“First, we need to get you ready.”
He took her hand, his grip warm and firm, and led her not to the dreaded frame, but to a shallow alcove in the wall where a tapestry depicting some celestial battle hung. It offered only a sliver of privacy, but he positioned himself between her and the bulk of the room, his broad back blocking the worst of the staring eyes.
Then he knelt.
The sight of him on his knees before her, in this den of vipers, sent a jolt through Kaitlyn’s system. He looked up, his golden eyes holding hers with an intensity that shut out the rest of the world.
“Let me get you ready to fuck me, Mistress,” he rumbled.
His words—so blunt and raw—shouldn’t have made heat pool in her belly…but they did. It was a dark, thrilling current under the river of her fear.
He reached for the slit in the front of her gown, parting the liquid-silver fabric with his hands. He spread the fabric slowly, revealing her legs…her thighs…and the scrap of silver lace that was her panties. His knuckles brushed her skin, leaving trails of fire that made Kaitlyn shiver.
“Have to take these off now, Mistress,” he growled softly, stroking her panties.
“Yes…all right,” she whispered, willing her voice not to tremble.
Braze nodded. He hooked his fingers in the sides of her panties and drew them down. The cool air of the chamber kissed her exposed flesh, making her shiver.
Then he leaned forward.
“Oh…what are you doing?” Kaitlyn asked breathlessly.
“Getting you ready,” he said simply. “This fucking thing…I can’t put it in you dry.” He nodded at the double-sided shaft. “Need to get you wet enough to slide it in.” He raised his eyebrows. “Can you part your thighs for me and let me get you wet, Mistress? Can you do that for me?”
The current of heat in her belly increased, coiling like a live wire deep inside. Slowly, Kaitlyn nodded.
“Yes, I think so.”
“Good.”
He leaned forward again but the first touch was not his mouth, but his breath—a warm wash over her curls that made her bite back a gasp. Then Braze parted her outer lips with his thumbs, and she felt the flat, slow stroke of his tongue— a long, deliberate lick from her entrance all the way up to her clit.
Kaitlyn moaned, her hands flying to his shoulders to steady herself. She was tense—wound tight with anxiety and dread—but his mouth on her pussy made her want to melt.
“Shhh,” he murmured against her, his voice a vibration she felt deep inside. “Just feel, sweetheart. Just let me taste you…let me make you wet for me.”
He began to work her with a focused, devastating expertise. This wasn’t like the hungry, worshipful feast of the night before, Kaitlyn realized—this was a mission. He knew her body now—knew that a firm, circling pressure right here made her toes curl…that a soft suck there would draw a broken moan from her throat… knew that dipping his tongue inside her would make her hips jerk.
Her Protector used that knowledge ruthlessly—expertly dismantling her tension and replacing it with a rising, shameful tide of pleasure.
“Oh, God…Braze…” she moand, her fingers tangling in his long black hair. The audience, the frame, the Empress—it all blurred into a distant buzz. There was only the heat of his mouth…the skilled dance of his tongue…the aching need he was stoking in her own body—a counterpoint to the desperate need she knew was clawing at him even as he worked to get her ready.