At the King's Pleasure (Epic Fantasy BDSM Romance) Read online

  Oblivious to my distress, he moved to my chest, dipping the paint brush in the pot and dabbing Daliki glyphs on my skin. After my chest, came my arms, then my legs including the flesh closest to my core. I craned my neck to see what he had drawn and found a horse racing on my abdomen. The rest of it was unrecognizable to me, a mish-mash of ancient glyphs that no one but the barbarians used anymore. My tutors had tried to show me the outdated language, but it had not held my interest. Now I wished I had paid better attention.

  With every inch of me covered in glyphs, the Koti took a deep breath and blew his hot breath across my skin to dry the ink. When he was satisfied it was dry, he untied me and nudged me to roll over.

  I made to protest, but he held up the ink pot.

  “Oh, fine. Paint me then.” I lay on my stomach and shivered as the ink hit my warm skin.

  The Koti followed the same general path as he had on my front. Starting with the small of my back, moving up along my spine to my neck and down my arms. For my ass, he first massaged my flesh before applying the ink. He did my legs last, painting a trail down to my ankles.

  Again, he blew on me to dry the ink and then rolled me back over, securing my hands and feet as before.

  “Wait, you don’t have to tie me up.” I tugged my hand out of his only to have him recapture it a second later. “I’ll lay still, I promise.”

  He only shook his head and continued to fasten my limbs to the bed. I understood his reasoning when, instead of applying more ink like I had anticipated, he leaned down and suckled my breasts into stiff points. He lashed me with his tongue until my breathing came fast and my back arched up to meet his mouth.

  He smiled in approval and reached for the gold chain he’d had earlier. My eyes widened when I saw the clips on the end.

  “No.” I kicked my legs hoping by some miracle to break loose, but the rope held.

  Ignoring my protest, he advanced on me, warm palms smacking my breasts lightly. I recoiled, afraid, but the strikes did not hurt, rather they made my nipples ache in a most pleasant manner. A wet craving moistened my core, threatening to flood the banks of my innermost lips.

  “Oh,” I sighed. “That feels good.”

  He then fastened a clip to one nipple and then the other. They bit into me with a sting, tearing a high-pitched squeal from my throat.

  “Please, oh please, take them off, Your Grace.” I writhed on the bed, gasping as pain replaced pleasure.

  He watched me with a solemn expression. Then he tugged on the chain linking the clips and I hissed as sharp pin-pricks assaulted my breasts, filling them with a swollen heaviness. With a satisfied nod, he moved down my body, laying the chain along my midline to my pubic mound. Dark eyes boring into mine, he parted my folds, peeling back to reveal my innermost layer. His fingers plucked at my core, caressing me with a rough touch.

  In the beginning, I was so shocked at the intrusion, I felt nothing, but he kept stroking me with an even rhythm and my body finally responded with a squirm of the hips.

  I didn’t understand the sensations he evoked. I burned with desire that left me feeling empty. I needed him, like a flame needs a wick. Needed him to mate me, to thrust into me, before the tenterhooks of pain twisted into pleasure became unbearable.

  He seemed to know when the realization struck me, as he gave a curt nod, his gaze never wavering from my face. Bending down, he brought his mouth to my folds and kissed me with a touch so light, a feather would have had more force. His tongue then wiggled its way into my core.

  I gasped, and, despite wanting to keep still so he wouldn’t stop, my body convulsed under his touch. He lapped me with his tongue, working the small nub between my legs until I could think of nothing other than releasing the sweet tension he had stoked within me.

  My hands twisted in their bonds, grabbing the rope in an effort to brace myself against shattering sensation. My breath came in shallow pants and my hips bucked like a wild animal, reaching for him, wanting more.

  He stopped and when I looked down to see why, he showed me a third clip attached to the same chain.

  “Oh, no. Not there.” I couldn’t keep myself from begging.

  He raised his eyebrows at me, unmoved by my distress.

  “Please, my Koti.” I used the Dalik word for king, doing my best to get the accent right.

  He gave me an impatient look and fastened the clip in a place meant for pleasure. To my surprise it didn’t hurt, rather it intensified my arousal, rubbing against my nub, teasing me so that I missed his tongue. When he pulled on the chain once again, that all changed. I arched up off the bed, moaning. Pain tinged with pleasure took over my senses. For a brief moment, I ceased to exist, to even know myself, there was no room for anything except the knowledge of his touch.

  He untied me then, massaging my wrists and ankles, helping me sit and holding me back from standing too soon. Blood rushed to my head and pounded my temples in time with the throbbing at my breasts and between my legs.

  My hand trembling in his, I pushed myself to my feet, wobbling a bit but otherwise steady. The Koti picked up the dress the Daliki women had presented to me upon my arrival and put it on me, fluffing it around my body and arranging the drape.

  Leading me with the chain, he walked me to the other side of the room to stand in front of the mirror. A strange foreigner stared back at me in the glass. Black spirals adorned my cheeks and my eyes had been highlighted with thick lines that extended up and out in a cat-eye slant. My hair was the only thing I recognized. The dress did nothing to hide the designs the barbarian had painted on my skin and the chain dangled over the collar within easy reach of the Koti.

  “You are ready,” he said. With a firm pull on the chain, he led me away from the mirror.

  He threw the doors open and we walked into the drawing room where a throng of Daliki turned to look at us. On some unseen cue, a drum beat sounded a slow, heavy rhythm. The crowd swayed in time with the drum.

  “What is happening?” I cast a bewildered look at the Daliki surrounding us, watching us with impassive eyes.

  Picking up on my confusion, he said, “The Daliki believe women must be prepared to become wives. This ceremony is to ready you for the marriage bed and child bearing. Tonight we will open the gate of life.”

  I frowned at him, not understanding.“The what?”

  “The Daliki say the pleasure of victory takes pain. Always pain with pleasure.” As he spoke a Daliki woman came forward and the Koti handed her the gold chain connected to my most private places. She gave a sharp tug and I jumped at the unpleasant sensation that shot through me, biting back a shrill moan.

  Another woman stepped forward and took the chain from her to do the same; pulling on me until it hurt.

  “Do not show weakness, princess,” he warned me. “And do not trust the ones who go gently with you. The harder they pull, the more respect they give you.”

  “How will I know what’s a hard pull?” I gasped out. They all felt hard to my senses.

  But he didn’t understand me and my question went unanswered. There were at least thirty Daliki and they all came forward in turn to yank on me. By the end, I had bitten my lip bloody to keep from crying out. Tears burned at my eyes, but I blinked them back. My body throbbed in time with the drum. Pain rolled through my breasts in waves, and the slick heat between my legs wept.

  After what seemed an eternity, they were done. The Koti raised a hand and the drum beat stopped. “May the Horse God give the Kota stallions. May the mounting be fruitful.”

  The Daliki fell to their knees and began to chant.“We pray now. May the Kota know the pain of victory. The pain of love. May she serve the Horse God. May the rains come.”

  The drum started up again and the Daliki began a slow dance, their steps ponderous and measured. As the drumbeat gained speed, they whirled, spinning in place so fast their faces were a blur. The drum went even faster and so did the Daliki creating the illusion that their feet did not touch the floor.

  Koti
Kafele spoke to me, “Now it is time to complete the awakening of the Gate of Life.”

  I froze. “We are not married. We cannot consummate a marriage that has not yet happened.” Even as I spoke, my body yearned for my words to be untrue, for him to spread me on the bed and take me to completion. His touch and the ceremony had ignited a burning desire, something I had never felt before. Its heat surged through my veins and pulsated at the nexus of my legs.

  The Koti pulled on the chain, forcing me to follow him back into his room. Even through the closed door I could hear the drum as he led me back to the bed, taking off my dress, tossing it to the floor and pressing me down into the mattress once more, fastening my hands over my head. This time, I did not fight, eager for him to touch me again.

  First he removed the clip from between my legs. This did not hurt at all and there was no sensation to speak off. I looked at him, disappointed and he laughed as he dove between my legs, tongue seeking out my nub once again.

  That at least felt good and I sighed, my hips undulating up and down under the ministrations of his masterful tongue. Pleasure climbed to a peak within me and I trembled at its force, beginning to feel as if I would fall to pieces. It washed through me, making me gasp and wish my hands were not tied so I could reach down to clutch the Koti’s head.

  As I quivered, he reached up and removed a clip from one breast. I bucked as pain tore into me, eating up the pleasure until it was all gone. He sat up and crawled up my body to kiss me. I tasted the salt of my desire on his lips, and the scent of my musk filled my nose. He nuzzled my neck, and a hand stroked the skin between my breasts. This made the pain more bearable and he continued until it had faded enough for me to fully relax my weight back into the mattress.

  He kissed his way down my body, swirling his tongue in my belly button and then caressing my inner thighs, which were more sensitive than I had ever imagined. Returning to where he started, he increased the speed of his tongue on my center, lashing the pleasure before him like a slave master.

  When I reached the peak once again, he removed the clip from the other breast. Only this time he kept his tongue on me, pinning my hips with his large hands and mumbling something as he did so. The vibration of his words shivered through my core in a burst of pleasure.

  I could no longer discern where pleasure started or where pain ended. It all merged into a fireball of sensation. As much as his hands would allow, I thrust my pelvis up against his mouth, my hands fisted around my bonds, back arching off the bed, my breasts achingly sore but in a way that added to my release rather than detracting from it. I cried out, heels drumming the bed, hitting the wooden frame.

  Outside, thunder rumbled, growling like a caged beast. Rain poured down, plinking on the roof sharp as the tap of shoes on a stone floor. The room grew dark as the storm cast its veil over the sun. The Koti left me to stand by the window and watch the rain. From the drawing room, a faint chorus of howls sounded. The Daliki were rejoicing.

  The Koti released me from my bonds and helped me dress in my gown as I was too limp to properly care for myself. With a gentle strength he lifted me and moved me to a chair.

  “Every time you move you will feel me on your skin, remember my touch. Now the gate of life is open. You are ready for your wedding night and the union is sure to be blessed.” He pointed out the window and continued, “The Horse Gods trample the heavens with their approval and rain life down on us.”

  Unsure of the proper response, I simply nodded. His words were true, my body tingled with his touch.

  “You did well, princess. The Koti is pleased.”

  “Thank you, Your Grace.” I bowed my head. “I am at your pleasure.”

  ***

  The wedding was a strange mix of Siana formality and Daliki wildness. I rode a white mare down the aisle of the temple as was the custom among the desert tribes. The High Priestess officiated our union according to Sianan tradition, using the same texts that had joined my parents. My gown was another piece of gauze fluff in pale blue, displaying the painted glyphs on my skin for all to see. The Koti wore nothing but his breeches. The only acknowledgement of the occasion was that his broad chest had been oiled until it gleamed in the dim temple light.

  The crowd that had gathered to see us wed was joyous. The storm from the other night had given everyone hope. It had also made it easier for me to face my fate. As the Koti had promised, his touch lingered on my skin. My breasts were tight with need and my core clenched every time I thought of that night, which was often as my body constantly reminded me. I was wet all the time as well, feeling the slick moisture between my legs with every movement.

  I still feared the loss of my innocence, but now I also craved it. The Koti had filled me with passion and it swelled within me, wanting to burst through the confines of my skin.

  The ceremony concluded and we broke our bridal fast over a large meal, following his custom of feeding each other. Then there was dancing and finally, we were escorted back to his chambers and shut inside his room.

  The sudden quiet roared in my ears. All day I had heard the cheering of the crowds, the loud conversation at the banquet and then the dancing music. Now nothing.

  “Stand in the center of the room.” The Koti’s voice was loud in the silence. He motioned for me to move.

  When I was in place, he said, “Lift your arms up.”

  He removed the dress and I shivered as the fabric caressed my skin. Then he grabbed my wrists and bound them over my head. Surprised, I looked up to see a chain suspended from the ceiling.

  The Koti went to his trunk and pulled out an implement I didn’t recognize. Standing he showed it to me, running his hand along the wood handle. On the end were straps of what appeared to be leather. “The rain comes with you, princess. You must weep. Not from here,” he touched his eye. “But from here.” He stepped forward and cupped my core in his hands. As hot as I was, he was hotter and his touch burned. “And when my seed plants inside you, as you swell so will the waters of the world.”

  With a flick of his wrist, he ran the straps over my skin. Their touch was light, almost a caress. The leather was soft and pliable, wrapping around my body as he struck me.

  “This is a flogger. It can kiss or sting, depending on how I use it.” He moved behind me and I heard the snap of the flogger in the air before it hit my backside.

  I yelped at the sensation which was akin to a sharp slap.

  “The Sianan way is all kisses.” He stroked me with the flogger, bringing it down gently on my shoulders and letting it fall down my spine. “But now you belong to the Daliki and we sting.” He punctuated his statement with a series of hard hits to my backside.

  I danced with the pain. Swaying and wiggling as I tried to evade it, but his aim was true. My body throbbed, pulsing with heat.

  The Koti laid his palm on my backside, squeezing each cheek in turn and then rubbing. It eased the sting somewhat and I stilled under his touch.

  “You are like a wild mare. You know your stallion is near and ready to mount you.” He wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me back until I felt his hardness between my cheeks. Nuzzling my neck, he whispered in my ear, “You want to be taken, yet you fear it.” His hand moved up across my stomach to caress a breast, fingers teasing the nipple into a hard point.

  I gasped, leaning back into him as the sensation made my knees weak. He played with my nipples until my breasts were heavy with desire. Compelled by an instinct I didn’t understand, I pushed into his pelvis, rubbing against his hardness.

  “Yes, princess. Feel what you do to me.” His hands swirled over my body and a finger dipped into my core, pushing aside the lips to touch the wetness underneath. “Feel what I do to you.” He rubbed the sensitive nub there until my hips circled.

  The Koti did not bring me to satisfaction. He toyed with me, building peaks of pleasure within me and then he stepped away. I whimpered at the loss of his touch.

  He laughed. “I own your pleasure and your pain, princes
s.”

  The flogger snapped across my backside again and I yelped at its harsh touch. I grunted with each hit, but did not try to move away like I had before. Slowly the pain transformed into burning heat, a flame that licked over my body.

  The Koti stepped in front of me, the flogger held nonchalantly in his large hand. “Spread your legs.”

  “Please, Your Grace. Not there.” I clamped my legs tightly together. The idea of the flogger striking my most tender place terrified me.

  He raised his eyebrows at me, not knowing my Sianan words but understanding the tone of my voice and the plea in my eyes. “And how will you birth my sons if you cannot withstand the flogger?”

  I shrugged. “I-I-I don’t know, Your Highness.”

  “You will spread your legs for me, princess, or I will do it for you.” His voice was dark, vibrating with authority that strummed over my skin, causing me to tremble. This was the tone of voice a king and our marriage had made me his to command.

  I hung my head, tears hot in the corners of my eyes. “Please, Koti, please do not do this.”

  In answer, the flogger slapped across each of my thighs in turn. I hissed in pain. The strikes had been harder than any of the others, clearly meant to punish me.

  “Open your legs.”

  “No,” I said, trembling yet defiant.

  He slashed my thighs again with the flogger, but I didn’t move. “Would you deny the people water?” The flogger smacked me once more. “Would you let them die of thirst?”

  I shook my head.

  “Deny me and you deny them, princess.” He raised the flogger, but this time he caressed me with it. Sweeping it across my breasts and over my stomach. The contrast in sensation from hard to soft was startling. His voice rumbled low in his throat, “Do not shirk your duty. Open your legs for me.”

  I bit my lip and looked at him with wide eyes.

  “This is the sacrifice the prophecy demands.”