Shara

I had a feeling that we were headed for another bloody orgy. Not that I minded in the least. But I had to admit, I wasn’t too excited about having a hundred or so strangers watching while I fucked my Blood one by one.

I adjusted my grip on the obsidian blade until it felt right in my hand. It was longer than my familiar pocket knife, and much sharper. The glassy edge was so fine that I could easily cut him much deeper than I intended.

Rik touched my bond. :You’ll cut him? Why not bite him?:

My lips quirked at the heat shimmering in his bond, from all of the Blood. Of course, he’d want me to bite the Blood he trusted the least, over and over, like I’d done to Mehen that first night. :I’m not so cruel that I’d make a virgin come like that over and over again.:

He huffed out a low laugh. :It’d be fucking amusing to watch.:

Mehen grunted sourly. :If anyone’s going to be bitten over and over, let it be me, not the virgins.:

:My queen.: Itztli’s bond vibrated with tension. :Please, put me out of my misery. Make this quick.:

Guillaume snorted. :He doesn’t know our queen very well yet, does he?:

:Enough,: I told them all firmly as I stepped closer to Itztli, bound and waiting for his death.

I ran my eyes over him, drinking in the long, muscled lines of his body. He wasn’t as heavily built as Rik, but he was stockier than Tlacel, who definitely had a leaner musculature like Xin and Nevarre. I trailed my fingers up past his knee to his thigh. His leg quivered beneath my touch. His cock jerked, begging for my attention.

I skipped over his groin and swirled my fingertips over his stomach, enjoying the twitch and quiver of his muscles as I advanced. He didn’t have any chest hair. I touched one of his nipples, and he sucked in a hard breath of surprise.

Naturally, I had to touch him again, rubbing the small nub with my thumb until he let out a low growl that made my lips quirk. I switched to his other nipple, ignoring the dark glare he shot at me. I leaned down to press my face against his chest, breathing in his scent. Smoky chocolate with a kick. Like a rich, delicious hot cocoa spiked with cayenne. I scratched his other nipple with my fang and he jerked his arms against the vines holding him down.

Concerned, I started to lift my head to check his reaction. I was all for teasing and torturing a man with lust, but if he wasn’t into it…

:Don’t stop, my queen. Please. Unless you’re ready to bury my blade in my heart.:

:Not even close,: I assured him. :Will it bother you if I bite you again? Or if I fuck you in front of your people?:

:Not in the slightest. Bite me at will, my queen.:

Before I could ask, Rik stepped closer and lifted me up onto the tree. As I settled on Itztli’s lower stomach, he arched up beneath me, straining against his bonds hard enough his wrists started to bleed.

Once I caught the scent of his blood, I couldn’t wait any longer. I bent down and sank my fangs deeply into his pectoral with my tongue on his nipple.

Roaring, he bucked beneath me with release. I felt a bit of guilt that he still wasn’t inside me, and I’d made him come twice now, but not guilty enough to wriggle lower and take him inside me yet.

The tree needed blood. A great deal of blood.

With that thought I lifted my head, letting his blood trickle down his ribcage and splatter the tree beneath him, while I shifted to his other nipple and sank my fangs again. Another wave of release rocked through his body. His blood tasted as good as he smelled, like dark sweet chocolate that blazed down my throat, but the flow wasn’t strong since I didn’t hit a vein. Just a delicious appetizer to stir my hunger.

I sat upright and licked my lips. Itztli stared up at me, his lips parted slightly, showing his fangs. His nostrils flared, and he worked his hips beneath me. I’d forgotten my left hand was still bleeding. I smoothed my bleeding palm over his chest, painting him with my blood. He hissed and squirmed like my blood was acid that burned through his flesh to the bone. The tree liked it too, jerking up taller with our offering.

Holding his gaze, I lifted the razor-sharp blade to my own throat and dragged the tip of the knife down my neck and across both breasts, leaving a thin red line in its wake.

Then I did the same to him, cutting thin, beautiful lines in his chest. Blood welled on his skin, mixing with mine. His tattoos came alive, standing up more solidly against his skin, like they were chiseled out of rock. Green, gold, red, and blue sparkled like jewels in his flesh, the shapes moving and swelling before my eyes.

Like before, in Isis’s pyramid, I could suddenly read the marks, even though I had never seen glyphs like these before.

Flay me, Great One, and I will be your loyal dog for all eternity. My heart is yours.

Oh fuck.

I could only hope She didn’t mean flay literally, as in strip off his skin.

He tipped his head back, baring his throat to me, his body straining up against me. His bond thudded with a heavy thrum of need that made my own desire ratchet higher. Everything else faded. The watching crowd. His sister. His brother, who still knelt where he’d begged me to kill him, too. My own Blood. Though I was always aware of them, they stilled and softened in my mind.

This was for Itztli alone, and our goddesses.

Who very much wanted his blood.

And mine.

And most especially, our pleasure.