Happy Release Day to Me!
REIGN OF PLEASURE
Deposed queen Rhiannon's sexual proclivities have finally gotten her into trouble. After Rhiannon took a pleasure slave who didn't belong to her, the courtesan's master is asking the ultimate price for the trespass—not Rhiannon's life, but her body…and complete submission for three days. Rhiannon is determined to submit only her body, but Lord Ignius Sebastian, her new master, will settle for nothing less than her soul.
Author's Note:This book is for readers 18 years and older and contains graphic girl/girl, and BDSM scenes.
Chapter One:
As a deposed queen used to the treachery that lay around every corner at court, you'd think I'd be a little more vigilant, a little more apt to look a gift whore in the mouth. But when I walked into my chambers to find a petite blonde in my sitting room, the last thing I thought about was intrigue.
If I had a type, she would be it. Since I was taller than most males at court, I'd always secretly envied diminutive ladies their statures. Small wasn't a word that could describe any part of me. Growing up, it was often said I had the hips, ass and tits of common stock. Of course, since I was heir apparent and could lop off the head of any who offended me, it was never said in my presence.
At court, however, nothing was secret, not even the covert whisperings of my detractors. As long as I could remember, I had cursed my ample hips and bosom. Not only because they were just one more reason I was different, but because it was damned difficult to wear the formal dress the ladies of court had favored for the past several hundred years. Though our kind tended not to emulate most modern human customs, the peerage did prefer the manner of dress mortals had worn during their eighteenth and nineteenth centuries—long, flowing dresses, corsets, petticoats and luxurious fabrics.
My uninvited guest had the perfect body for court fashion. Where I was plump and round, she was coltish and lissome. Everything about her was small, from her angular facial features and fragile fingers clasped in her lap to her breasts that my mouth could easily engulf.
I didn't need to know her name and, though I knew I should ask who sent her and why, I walked farther into my chamber and went directly to my toy chest. There would be time for idle chitchat later.
She was dressed in a gown so sheer it would probably melt in one's mouth. I knew she was sent for my use, and use her I would. I needed something to break the tension that had been riding me harder than a two-dollar harlot at a poor man's convention.
And this lovely piece would do just fine.
A present one of my many unwanted suitors had sent me last week was the first thing that caught my eye when I opened the closet. My little treasure chest held all the paraphernalia that a pleasure junkie like me would need. Dildos and vibes of every imaginable color and shape, along with kinkier accoutrement like nipple clamps, Wartenberg wheels and riding crops.
All manner of beings have vices, things that make them do things they would not normally do. Sell their bodies, rob, kill, and I was no different. To feed my addiction, I did kill. But in a subtler, more exquisite, less permanent way, secretly draining my lover of her life force as she writhed and cried out against me.
La petite mort.
The tiny death was my addiction and I knew this porcelain doll had been sent here to feed it. I'd never ended a donor's life, merely taken a little taste to satisfy my sometimes ceaseless hunger.
I picked up the box that originally caught my eye, closed the closet door and went to sit next to my visitor. Perched on the edge of the settee, she watched me open the sealed package and unwrap a pink jelly vibrator. For the first time since I entered the room, her head lifted and our eyes met. Her eyes grew wide, her pupils dilating and nearly drowning out the silver-blue of her irises. A look of apprehension covered her face as she looked down at the device I held in my hands.
From the way her body tensed, if I didn't know any better, I'd think my little courtesan was nervous. I caressed the shaft of the toy, running my hand over its bulbous tip and imposing length to the faux testicles that hid the electronic device that would make the apparatus pulse and rotate.
A smile curved my lips as she swallowed audibly, the middle of the device with its bulging beads no doubt making her anxious.
"You have to make sure you have it on the right setting and then work your way up, or the pleasure will be too much too fast. We don't want that, now, do we?"
Worrying her lip between her teeth, she began to nod but stopped herself.
I couldn't help but laugh. The scent of her arousal perfumed the room even though I had yet to touch her. Her eyes were still wide and her back tense, but from the heat radiating from her body and the slight nod of her head, I knew she was ready.
"Come here," I whispered, encouraging her to straddle my lap. She shivered as she leaned over me, a knee braced on either side of my thighs. I reached down and pushed aside the tiny sliver of fabric that covered her hairless sex. "We're gonna start off slow.
Okay?"
She nodded again and bit back a moan as the toy buzzed to life. I pressed it against her clit and the floodgates opened. As her pleasure echoed through me, I was barely able to stop the cry that almost escaped my lips.
My people, the Clarsensus, were telepaths, could read the thoughts and feelings of others. My gift though was most powerful during sexual encounters. When I touched my partners sexually, their thoughts and feelings slid effortlessly into my mind and this time was no different. I couldn't read her them word for word, but I could see the shape of them as they filtered through. Her pleasure, on the other hand, was as intense as if it were my own. When she came, so would I.
"Mmm." She moaned as the toy vibrated against her clit. She held her chest stiff against mine, as if she was afraid to lean against me. Or as if she was trying to stop the natural movements of her hips but couldn't. That would never do. The high I got from pleasure was always sharper if the unwitting donor surrendered fully, so I worked the vibrator harder against her.
Sighing, she slumped against me, grinding against my hand as her cries filled the room.
She was on the verge. The first wave of her orgasm blossomed over me, charging through my veins like a hit of heroin, raising the hair on my arms, heating my blood as the pleasure built immense and deep in my belly.
"Ah, ah, ah. Not quite yet," I chided. The pleasure was good, but I knew of a way to make it better.
The feel her stroking my back and shoulders made my hips rise against hers, and for a mere fraction of a second I wished to be the one to submit instead of dominate. That the body I arched into was hard instead of soft.
I concentrated on the pleasure of her writhing against me and all my other thoughts dissipated like a wisp of smoke. Ecstasy more insidious and drugging than the finest purple kush rolled me under, taking me deeper into the sensations that pulsed through her.
She leaned down, hesitating before pressing her lips against mine. I licked the seam before pressing my tongue between them. Her mouth opened under mine, her sweet breath shuddering out as I ran the bulbous tip of the toy back and forth over her drenched slit, shivering as the sound of her wetness pushed me harder.
Her thighs tightened against my hand as I pressed the tip of the toy up and inside her. It didn't penetrate easily, her cunt tighter than any concubine's had the right to be. She bore down, gasping as she slid over the jelly cock. I tore my mouth from hers, panting as the sensation of it stretching her splintered through me and more concrete fragments of her thoughts filled my mind.
Surprise.
Ecstasy.
Triumph.
The ecstasy and surprise I understood easily, because every pulse of her pleasure reverberated through me, taunting my own empty sex, but the feeling of triumph puzzled me.
Not enough, however, to stop what I was doing.
"That's it," I encouraged, desperately craving more as she ground against my hand. "Help me fuck your juicy little pussy." Her hips rocked faster and her breath feathered against the crease of my neck. She ran her tongue over my collarbone, over my breasts, until she reached my nipples poking against the fabric of my dress.
The movements of my hand sped up until I was ramming the cock into her flooded cunt, fucking her hard and fast. The climax that had gathered in her belly earlier returned, deeper, intense. It burst over us both as she bit my nipple and then sucked it into her mouth through the fabric.
We held each other as we shuddered, the toy lodged deep inside her as she whispered,
"Got you."
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