“Do sit down, my dear Ambassadress,” the Empress said, and the pleasantry in her voice was gone, replaced by the steel of a command.
Flustered, Kaitlyn’s eyes darted around the hall, searching for guidance—for any way out. That’s when she noticed the details she’d missed in her initial sweep of the Dining Hall.
The women who were seated in their husbands’ laps had their skirts arranged differently. They were hiked up, or spread wide open. In the gap, Kaitlyn could see what was really going on. This seating arrangement wasn't just casual ownership—it was a raw, open display of possession.
The husbands’ shafts, thick and hard, rose from between their thighs to press insistently against their wives’ exposed pussies—some glistening with arousal. In some cases, the women weren’t just resting against them—they were fully and openly impaled—taking their husband's length deep inside their pussy as casually as if it were an extension of the chair itself.
Against her will, her gaze snagged on a pair a few tables away. The wife—a woman with silver-streaked hair—had one hand braced on the table while the other was holding a crystal flute. As Kaitlyn watched, she shifted slightly—a slow, subtle undulation of her hips that seemed to be less about comfort and more about pleasure.
Kaitlyn saw the powerful muscles in her husband’s bare thigh beneath her flex and tighten in response. The woman’s lips parted on a silent sigh—a faint wince of intense sensation that quickly melted into a secret, knowing smile as she took a sip from her glass and wiggled again. The subtle movement caused the man beneath her to grit his teeth—his hands gripping the arms of his chair until his knuckles turned white.
At another table, a younger wife leaned forward to reach for a platter of jewel-bright fruit. She got a bunch of shiny red grape-like fruits and sat back down suddenly. The motion made her sink deeper onto the shaft impaling her and forced a soft gasp from her lips and a groan from her husband. Her eyes fluttered shut for a second before she regained her composure, plucking a glistening grape with trembling fingers. As she leaned back, Kaitlyn saw the slick, wet evidence of her connection with her husband glistening on his shaft before the wife’s body hid it once more.
Further down, a bolder wife wasn't even pretending to eat. She was facing her husband and had her hands planted on his broad shoulders. Her hips were moving in a lazy, continuous roll—riding him with a slow, grinding rhythm as she conversed with the woman beside her, who was doing the same thing. The husband’s head was thrown back, a look of exquisite agony on his face and his hands clamped on her waist, not to guide her, but to simply hold on.
Oh my God—they’re all just going for it!
The whole banquet hall was a symphony of casual, public copulation, Kaitlyn realized. The wet, slick sounds were masked by music and chatter, but the visuals were undeniable—the clench of a woman’s inner muscles visible in the tense line of her spine…the desperate bulge of a man’s shaft straining against the confining cock ring as he penetrated her over and over without being able to come… and the shared, shuddering breaths as a wife paused her conversation to simply feel her husband seated to the hilt inside her.
This wasn't just passion, Kaitlyn understood in a flash—it was policy. A relentless, carnal reminder of who was in charge, performed on the most public stage imaginable. No one was in a hurry—they were taking their time and taking their pleasure with their husbands, who had to give pleasure without coming themselves. It was a level of female domination she’d never imagined before, despite her interest in that particular kink.
The sights around her sent a conflicting torrent through Kaitlyn—a hot rush of shame at witnessing such vulnerability and exposure, immediately chased by a bolt of pure, liquid desire so potent it made her inner muscles clench with need.
The idea of trying this public fucking herself—of lowering herself onto Braze’s thick shaft, of sheathing him inside her body and then just sitting there, making conversation and eating while he filled her—stretched her—was almost too much. She pictured riding him, all the while knowing the unyielding ring at the base of his cock denied him any relief—possibly even coming with him inside her—massaging his thick shaft with her inner walls while he was helpless to come himself as he groaned her name.
It was a dark, dominant fantasy that unfolded in her mind with vivid, breathtaking clarity. She imagined the delicously full feeling…the way his cock would pulse helplessly within her…the way every tiny shift of her weight would be a sweet torment for them both. It would be the ultimate control—the sweetest agony imaginable.
But it was impossible—unthinkable. It crossed a line in their professional partnership they could never come back from.
“Are you having trouble deciding whether to let him penetrate you or not?” the Empress demanded, her voice cutting through Kaitlyn’s mental turmoil like a lash. The ruler’s patience had clearly evaporated. “Let me help you—no penetration for tonight. He hasn’t earned it yet. Now do sit down.”
The final four words were uttered with such imperious force that Kaitlyn’s body complied before her mind could form any kind of protest. Heart hammering against her ribs, she gathered the heavy, starry skirts of her gown in her hands, bunching the fabric behind her and pulled the front panels apart to clear her legs. Holding her breath, she turned her back to Braze and carefully, slowly, lowered herself onto the big Kindred.
Her bottom settled not on his thighs, but higher up, on the hard, ridged plane of his lower abdomen. The heat of his body seared through the thin lace of her panties. And between her spread thighs, rising from the valley formed by their bodies, was his cock.
The swollen, plum-shaped head, slick with pre-cum, brushed against the damp lace covering her pussy—a shock of silk against skin contact that made them both draw a sharp, simultaneous breath.
Can’t believe I’m doing this! Can’t believe I’m actually sitting on him wearing nothing but this tiny little pair of barely-there panties! Kaitlyn thought.
But having a panic attack over breaking protocol wasn’t going to help her get through this feast. She tried to settle herself and relax a little as she calmed her mind.
Yes, she was sitting on her Protector—his shaft trapped upright in the narrow, heated space between her thighs. And yes, the broad crown of his cock was nestled firmly against her panty-clad pussy—a persistent, throbbing pressure against her most sensitive area. And yes again, it was the most intimate non-penetration imaginable, but she’d had no choice. This was the way they did things here on Salimba Prime and she had to abide by Court etiquette, or they were never going to get a deal for the Love Vine.
So get over it, she lectured herself. You’ll do whatever you have to do in order to complete the mission.
At least now that she was seated, the Empress didn’t look so irritated. She gave Kaitlyn a small, satisfied nod and returned her attention to the concubine servicing her.
Kaitlyn sat perfectly still, every nerve in her body screamingly aware of the hard, hot club of flesh pressed against her. The feast hadn’t even begun, and she was already balanced on a razor's edge of unbearable need and dark desire.
How was she going to get through this?
12
BRAZE
Agony.
It was the only word for what he was feeling, but it was an agony so exquisite—so perfectly pitched between torment and ecstasy—that Braze felt he might shatter from the sheer intensity of it.
