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)
Later, he promised himself. Hopefully later she’ll let me taste her.
Above him, Kaitlyn sighed—a soft, shuddering sound—and her fingers slid restlessly through his hair. When he finally looked up, her eyes were half-lidded and dark with a desire that mirrored his own.
“Thank you, Braze—that was very sweet,” she murmured, her voice husky. “But now we’d better work on getting you dressed. I’d hate to show up late to the feast.”
“Of course,” he growled, and rose reluctantly to his feet, every movement a protest. The most difficult part of the night was yet to come and he knew it.
The silence in the bedroom felt thick—charged with everything they weren’t saying—but Braze tried to ignore it. He toed off his heavy boots—the thud of each one hitting the dark marble floor sounding unnaturally loud. Then he reached for the tie at his waist holding up the ridiculous silk panel, but the moment his fingers dipped near his groin, a sharp, biting zap shot from the manacles. A jolt of pain lanced up his arms.
“Fuck!” he snarled under his breath, jerking his hands back. The energy field hummed menacingly around his wrists, warning him that he’d gone too far, though he hadn’t even come close to touching his shaft.
“Oh, I never should have let the Mistress of the Wardrobe make me put those on you! Let me try to take them off,” Kaitlyn exclaimed.
She reached for his wrists, but Braze drew back.
“And what are we going to tell the Empress if she asks why I’m the only male not wearing non-con manacles?” he asked. “Believe me, Mistress, I want them off as much as you do—more, even. But I don’t want to risk the mission.”
Kaitlyn froze for a moment, nibbling her bottom lip uncertainly. At last, she nodded.
“You’re right. They have to stay on. Which means I’ll have to do most of this for you—do you mind?”
Braze shook his head.
“I’m yours, Mistress,” he told her, his voice coming out low and gravely. “Do what you want with me.”
Kaitlyn looked up and met his eyes…what she saw there must have shaken her.
“You know, you don’t have to talk like that,” she said softly. “The Mistress of the Wardrobe said there weren’t any listening devices in here. It’s enough to just act the parts, don’t you think?”
“Better safe than sorry,” Braze pointed out. “Who knows what kind of tech they have in here. Besides…it helps me to play the part if I play it all the way, you know?”
She nodded.
“Yes, I can see where that would be true. All right then, you’re mine—to do with as I choose.”
As she spoke, she reached up to cup his cheek in one soft, small hand. Braze wanted to fucking melt for her, but he contented himself with holding her eyes with his own and leaning into her palm—offering his surrender without saying a word this time.
The moment might have lasted forever…or even ended in a kiss—but there was a timid rapping at the suite door and the servant called,
“The Feast of the New Moon begins soon, my Lady!”
They both sighed at the same time, and it felt to Braze like some kind of spell had been broken.
“Here—let me get you out of this thing,” Kaitlyn said briskly. She stepped closer, her scent teasing him, and reached down. Her fingers, deft and sure, found the simple knot at his waist and loosened it. The long panels of fabric—the only thing that had offered even a whisper of modesty—fell away, pooling around his feet on the cold stone.
Braze stood before her, completely naked and it was Kaitlyn’s turn to look.
The air felt cool on his feverish skin, but it did nothing to quell the heat radiating from his rigid cock, which jutted out from his body, flushed and leaking with need. He was proud of his body…but he couldn’t help remembering being sold at the Flesh Auction—being put on display just like this for all the Yonnie Six buyers to see and admire.
He could feel Kaitlyn’s gaze like a physical touch, sliding away from his groin, then darting back again. He didn’t need his Kindred senses to know her breath had caught in her throat—he could hear the soft, quick puff of air. But his sensitive hearing could also detect the rapid, frantic flutter of her heartbeat like a drumbeat in the quiet room, syncing with the pounding pulse in his own ears.
This wasn’t right, Braze told himself. He was too attuned to her—a dangerous level of awareness for a Protector—but he couldn’t seem to dial it back. Not now…not ever.
After a long moment, Kaitlyn seemed to unfreeze.
“Well now, let’s get these on you,” she said, her voice striving for a businesslike tone and failing miserably. It came out breathy and a little unsteady instead.
She bent to pick up the crotchless leather trousers—the material supple and black as sin—and held them out to him.