"No, I have given them to you," he said graciously.
"I will not take them back."
"That's very sweet of you, Dragus! You're not such a slut, really—now, are you?"
He shrugged. "I would have liked to be as fortunate as the slaves, but—"
"Stop right there, Dragus," I warned. "I don't think I want to hear any more."
"But I have studied Terran culture," he protested.
"Your species... turns me on."
"I wouldn't have thought that," I commented. "After all, we're quite a bit different, and the tigers aren't the slightest bit interested in Darconians." I chose not to mention the fact that I considered Dragus to be rather handsome for a Darconian, since he didn't seem to need any further encouragement.
"Perhaps not," he conceded. "But I find your soft skin very... stimulating."
"Stimulating, huh?" I echoed. Then something else occurred to me "And just
how
do you know my skin is soft?" I inquired. "I can't recall ever having been touched by you."
Since we had arrived at The Shrine, he didn't reply, but his appreciative glance was enough to assure me that he'd at least thought about trying. The guard posted at the door opened it without comment, and I wondered if he knew why we were there. If he did, I could only assume that
someone
—probably Hartak—had been talking—which wouldn't be too surprising, given the nature of palace gossip.
As usual, the abrupt change in the humidity level upon entering The Shrine hit me like a wet blanket. Thus far, I'd never done much in the way of physical activity while I was in there, and while I would have preferred the drier heat in my quarters, with Nindala visiting, my rooms were now off-limits to the slaves. Scalia was taking no chances with her slave boys.
The tigers met us just inside, and one whiff of me had their dicks stiff almost immediately. Dragus made no move to leave, but, instead, turned and leaned against the door.
"I have missed you," Tychar purred as he took me in his arms. "It has been two entire days since I last saw you."
"What? No visions?" I teased.
"Now that I have had the real thing," he said with a smile, "visions are not nearly as satisfying as they once were."
"I wouldn't take a vision over you, either," Trag said, though his compliment sounded a little forced. He backed away slightly, with the air of one who was admitting defeat.
"I don't know," I said, scrutinizing him carefully.
"Seems like you must be doing just that."
"How do you mean?"
"It's just that after that first time, I figured you'd be more... demanding, but you haven't been."
Trag looked acutely uncomfortable, and it was several moments before he spoke. "It isn't that I don't like you—because I do, Kyra, it's just that... well, you and Ty..." Throwing up his hands in a gesture of futility, he said: "Do you love me?"
"A little," I admitted. "But it's not the same as what I feel for Tychar, and to be perfectly honest, I don't think you love me at all."
Trag took a breath as if he was about to say something, and then looked away.
"You don't, do you?" I persisted.
He was having a very hard time admitting it, but finally, he did.
"No, I don't love you," he said. "—though I probably should—I loved the sex, and you still smell fabulous, but—"
"You want a girl just like the girl that married dear old dad?"
He'd never heard that old song, of course, but he did understand the sentiment. "I risked going back to Zetith to find a mate," he said. "I didn't get one."
"And now that you've had a little nooky, you're good for another twenty years?"
"Probably not," he admitted, "But you and Ty—I know you love him, not me. It makes a difference."
"Planning to hold out for a Zetithian?" If he did, I had an idea he'd probably be waiting until the day he died.
"I'd sure like to," he said, letting out a pent-up breath. "But I could go the rest of my life and not find one—even if I wasn't stuck here playing slave boy for Scalia."
"Well, you never know what might happen," I said.
"Things can change just like that," I added with a snap of my fingers.
"I sure wish they would," Trag said wistfully.
As Tychar began purring again, I got the idea that he hadn't sent Dragus after me to listen to me comfort his brother. "So, now that you've got me here, what did you have in mind?"
The answer to that was fairly obvious, because it
had been
two days since I'd seen him, and before that, Tychar had been with me almost constantly. I ought to have been suffering from withdrawal, but it was also possible that I'd needed the rest. Still, the sight of him fully aroused and purring was having its effect on me: my clitoris was tingling as it became engorged, and I was probably pumping out just as much juice as he was.
Tychar moved in close behind me and ran his fingers under the straps of my gown. "Why are you wearing a dress?"
"We have visitors to the palace," I replied, "so I thought I should."
"It is odd that you would feel that way," Dragus piped up, "for even they do not wear clothing."
"But I feel, well... naked," I said, trying to explain.
"You know, vulnerable?"
"Let me tell you something, Kyra," Tychar murmured in my ear. "Seeing you naked makes
me
vulnerable, not you. It makes me want to mate," he purred. As his hot tongue slid across my neck, my resolve began to weaken along with my knees. "And when I wish to mate, I become your slave. You are free to do anything with me, and I will do whatever you ask."
I glanced over at Dragus. "I'm not so sure I can feel 'free' with Dragus lurking in the corner," I said. "Think we could get rid of him?"
"That was not part of our agreement," Dragus said. "I was told I could watch."
I looked up at Tychar in frank disbelief. "You devil!"
I exclaimed. "You told him that?"
Tychar shrugged. "I was desperate."
"Yes, but—"
"You did
not have
to come, and you don't have to do anything you don't want to do," Tychar reminded me.
"You aren't a slave, Kyra."
"Oh, yeah, right!" I grumbled. "But tell me something: have
you
ever said no to a Darconian—one of the big ones who could knock you over with one swing of his tail?" I heard Dragus chuckling and turned to glare at him. "And don't you go getting any funny ideas, Dragus!"
Still laughing, Dragus shook his head. "But Kyra, I can think of nothing I would like more than to watch, if I cannot have you myself."
The thought of Dragus being anywhere other than the other side of the door when I was making love with Tychar creeped me out completely. "Forget it, big guy!
It's not gonna happen!" Eyeing him with suspicion, I added, "Is this your way of getting your necklace back?
Do I have to bribe you with it?"
Dragus shook his head, but it was Tychar who spoke.
"Just forget about him," he suggested, which was a bit ridiculous, since Dragus was entirely too big to miss, "and come over by the fountain. I have a bed all ready for you."
Against my better judgment—which was rapidly evaporating—I was just about to comply when I spotted Refdeck. "Oh, come on! Not all the other slave boys, too!"
"Well, they
are
locked in with us," Tychar said reasonably. "And they promised to be quiet."
"But they aren't invisible, and they aren't blind!" I protested. "I don't think I can—"
Tychar silenced me with a bone-melting kiss. "Just close your eyes, my love," he whispered against my lips. "And I will give you joy unlike any you have ever known."
My eyes were already closed—I could no more have kept them open than I could have kept from responding to his soft, wet kiss. Sighing as his hands caressed my back, I felt his fingers as they combed the braid from my hair. Knowing that all was lost, I wrapped my arms around his neck and returned his kiss, forgetting everything else as his tongue teased my own, sending tendrils of fire curling through my body. Oh, yes, focused on him, I could forget just about anything—until I felt my dress begin to slip away.
"Leave it on!" a shrill voice squeaked. "It's better that way!"
Opening one eye, I could see the guy with the octopus fingers jumping up and down at the head of the pack of slaves who were all gathered around to watch.
"You are supposed to keep quiet, Sladnil!" Tychar said severely. "One more word, and I'll throw you over the wall!"
"So, he
doeshave
a name," I murmured. "I was wondering what it was." Chuckling softly, I added, "Imagine that! One of you who actually
likes
my dresses!"
"He likes a lot of weird things," Tychar said.
"Such as?"
Tychar cleared his throat uncomfortably. "You really don't want to know."
I tried to imagine what weird things a skinny little guy with bulbous eyes, fish lips, and octopus fingers might enjoy and decided that Tychar was absolutely right. "No, I probably don't."
I did my best, even kissing Tychar again, but having Sladnil standing there watching was creeping me out even more. "Come on, you guys," I protested. "I just can't do this with you around."
"I'll get rid of them," Trag offered. "Seeing as how I'm not getting any, I'd just as soon not watch, either."
Motioning for the others to follow, he said, "Come on, guys, let's go outside and... pound sand or something."
The slaves all trooped morosely to the door to the portico. It was hot as hell out there at that hour, even in the shade of the dome, but I hoped they were used to it. Dragus, however, didn't move a muscle. "You, too, Dragus," I said severely. "I'm not doing another thing until you're out of here."
Dragus laughed. "I will leave," he said, capitulating at last, "but you must admit, it was worth a try."
"You can listen," I conceded, since I was fairly certain all of the guards did just that. "Though how you could hear anything through those doors is beyond me."
Dragus shrugged. "There are other ways," he said casually. "And you may keep the necklace," he added.
I had no idea what he meant by "other ways," but didn't care as long as he left.
As the door closed behind Dragus, Tychar began purring again, making me forget everything but him.
He'd gone to a lot of trouble to get me there, and I wasn't about to disappoint him. After all, I'd missed him, too.
"You handsome devil," I whispered, running my fingers through his hair. "You know I can't resist you."
He smiled knowingly. "You haven't forgotten me, have you?"
"Impossible," I vowed. "I couldn't forget you in a million years—well, I might, if Dragus conked me on the head—but I wouldn't forget you only because Nindala was here! It's just that I've been really busy getting ready for the recital, and you guys have been locked up more than usual. That's got to be hard for you."
Tychar smiled, and his purr deepened. "It gives me more time to think of ways to please you," he said. Picking up where he left off, my dress was on the floor in moments.
The only sound was the splashing of the fountain. We were alone and naked in the Garden of Eden—and I felt like Eve with the apple.
"I've been thinking of ways to give you pleasure, too," I said mysteriously.
"Such as?"
Using his hair to pull him closer, I licked his lips and then bit him lightly. Hearing his low growl, I took it further and wrapped my fingers around his cock, giving it a hard squeeze. "You'll see," I whispered. "Lie down."
I was treated to the vision of my shockingly handsome, blue-eyed tiger as he lay back on the pallet, his hair fanned out behind him and his jeweled cock waiting for me to gorge myself upon. Down on my hands and knees, I crawled up between his legs and licked him, but avoided his hot, dripping cock, fully intending to tease him mercilessly and make him
beg...
Running my tongue up his inner thigh, I felt pure delight as his cock pulsed, sending a river of fluid cascading from the head. The mere sight of it nearly sent me over the edge, but I controlled myself—somehow managing not to succumb to temptation and suck him. Hooking a finger under his jeweled cock ring, I pulled it up so that the skin of his scrotum was drawn tightly over his balls.
I'd never known how much I would like such things until I met Tychar, but I was certainly hooked on it now.
The fact that he was naked all the time probably helped, but just knowing that I could grab his balls anytime I liked was empowering for me. I wasn't timid anymore; I liked looking at my sexy tiger and didn't bother to hide that fact.
"You like it when I've got you by the balls, don't you?" I teased.
"I like everything you do," he said. "You could beat me, and I would enjoy it."
"Ooo, kinky," I commented approvingly—which was odd, because until I met him, half of what we did together would have seemed kinky. "Better not give me any ideas. I just might try it someday."
Thrusting his hips up, he spread his legs further apart.
"I'd rather have you eat me."
"Not yet, slave boy," I growled. "I'm gonna make you suffer."
His cock seemed to quiver with anticipation as he pointed it toward my mouth. "Kyra,
pleaseV
I shook my head. "No, not yet."
Groaning, he reached down to take my head in his hands and force me down on him.
"Nooo," I said, backing away. "No hands! You're my slave, remember? I get to do whatever I want with you, and if that includes tormenting you, then I will."
"You have tormented me for years," he said. "I have seen your face in the stars, laughing at me, telling me to wait—and I have waited."
"Then you can wait a little longer," I said. "Right now, I'm not touching your dick. I want to enjoy you without the orgasms interfering."
"How?" he whispered hoarsely.
"I'm going to suck your balls, and then, when I can't stand it anymore, I'm going to 'mate' with you every way I can think of."
Coronal fluid erupted from his cock, and his eyes glazed over. I was
definitely
getting to him! As his testicles slid up higher in his scrotum, I pulled harder on the cock ring, making the skin over his balls so tight, it was as shiny as his dick. Leaning down, I licked him and watched him squirm.