The torture wasn’t feeling her hair wrapping around my limbs, or even the ache in my muscles as she tugged my arms behind my back, binding them tightly together. No. The torture was feeling all this magic stroking my flesh—and not being able to act upon it.
Sweat already beaded my brow, my breathing coming harder. My cock as rock hard as the sphinx statue that had first entered her nest.
“G,” she moaned.
So focused on the sensation rippling through me, I’d lost track of what was happening on the main stage. Rik had moved aside, making room for both Itztli and Guillaume on the bed. She straddled Itztli’s hips, her hands braced flat on his chest and stomach, as the knight slowly thrust into her from behind.
In her bond, I felt the impossible stretching of her inner walls as he breached her. Slowly. Methodically. The kind of diabolical precision I would expect from a talented Templar Knight and queen’s Blood with centuries of experience. His considerable size did most of the sensual labor for him, making her writhe against the other Blood. But a heavy broadsword took talent and strength to wield effectively. He worked his cock deeper, making her twitch and moan—and most importantly, for this challenge, at least—dig her nails into Itztli’s flesh.
Not to feed. Not yet. But her long silver nails pierced his skin. Tearing at his chest as she squirmed against his erection trapped beneath her.
The knight settled to the hilt with a low, heavy grunt ofsatisfaction. He leaned harder against Shara, adding his weight on top of the Blood beneath her. “Still alive, Itztli?”
“Yes,” he hissed out, his breathing loud.
“Very good,” Guillaume said lightly. “Now the siege begins in earnest.”
He pulled back with agonizing slowness, withdrawing every impressive inch to the very tip. Then he shoved deep in one inexorable lunge to thud inside her. She let out a guttural groan, shifting to a higher pitch as he pulled back again. Again. Unhurried, he set a deliberate pace of heavy thrusts meant to rock the foundations of even a fellow Blood’s control.
Because our queen writhed and gasped and quivered with every thrust. She rubbed her face in Itztli’s blood, lifting her hips up for Guillaume’s devastation. Without the other Blood helping hold her in place with a fierce grip on her thighs, G would’ve scooted her clear across the bed to smash up against the headboard or wall.
Her hot silken flesh pressed against Itztli. Her pleasure a tangible wet heat. Leaving him to fight his own release each time our queen came, while she tore him up and feasted on him. I dare say even Rik would be hard pressed to endure the temptation of coming with her.
I wasn’t even touching her, and my thighs were wet from my dripping cock. I knew exactly how wet she must be. Her hunger rose, weighing heavy in the air. Making it harder to breathe. The scent of blood only stirred her lust for more. But if she sank fangs into Itztli, he’d be done. She wouldn’t want to finish him before he’d had enough pain to satisfy his darker side. For the same reason, she didn’t dare feed too much using her nails, for fear she’d drain him and end the challenge in unconsciousness.
Though how much pain could he reasonably endure? I didn’t know him well enough yet to judge how close he might be.
Guillaume wrapped his forearm around her neck and pulled them both upright. I wasn’t sure why until I smelled Rik’s blood.He pressed a bleeding bite to her mouth, deep enough to allow his blood to spill down her chin and splatter her breasts. Our queen loved to be coated in blood. Especially while we fucked.
Fucking hell. My own erection passed from rock hard to agonized. Just from watching.
“Don’t forget about your hair, my queen.” Guillaume tossed a knowing wink in our direction. “I believe there’s more you could be doing to torment them.”
A thick tendril of hair wrapped around my cock. My breath hissed out. So did Tlacel’s. “Fuck you, knight.”
Guillaume laughed. “Any time, general.”
It might be my imagination, but her hair seemed to be feeding on the droplets of pre-cum dotting my skin. In fact, the coils tightened on my cock, deliberately squeezing out more essence for her hair to absorb. She wanted my release. So she could feed on it. Which made it even more difficult to control myself.
Which any Blood knew full well, but especially the crafty knight.
Her desire crested in a crushing, flaming wave, rising higher, pulling us all with her. Itztli scooted back from her slightly, releasing his cock from beneath her. I thought he meant to gain some small quarter from the torment, but then he said, “Please, my queen. Bite me when you come. Take me with you.”
Brave, brave words for a Blood with such a delicate part of his body exposed for his queen. Especially when she’d just bitten a hunk out of the dragon. She could heal anything she did to us, but still.
“Are you saying you wouldn’t volunteer as tribute?” Tlacel’s voice was as tight and strangled as I felt.
“I would be the first to volunteer for anything she wanted to do. Merely admiring your brother’s resolve.” My entire body quivered with strain. Sweat poured down the front of my body. I reeked of lion. The sphinx swelled inside me as if it could forceits way out of my body and give us relief. Though I was no king. I could control the shift.
Except that first time Shara coated us both in her blood and bit me over and over…
A sound escaped my lips. I hoped it was a mean snarl worthy of the dragon but I feared it came out more like a whimper.
Tlacel huffed out a fucking laugh, low and soft but unmistakable. I turned my head to glare at him. “You’re doing well in this challenge.”
“Surrender is easy for me.”
Ah. Yes. The root of this challenge. My blood-starved brain barely remembered. “Count yourself lucky. Being able to fully surrender. Another’s will… Difficult. Almost impossible. For me. Especially… to her.”
