Gargoyle's Embrace Page 6

  Chapter 5

  Alarm flared, hitching her breath. Petra crept closer to Octavius, her hand reaching to clutch his tightly.

  The lord’s dark gaze dropped to their clasped hands, and his lips curved. “Since she takes comfort from your presence, you can keep her a while longer. I am finished here. Join me in my chambers. We’ll celebrate.”

  Octavius cleared his throat. “The occasion?”

  “Must we have a reason?”

  “There’s always a purpose.”

  Hades sank the blade into the hot coals. “The council presides. And they’re curious. They’ve missed you, it seems. Some more than others.”

  He strode to a large cauldron filled with water and bent to duck his head into it. Straightening and shaking his head, he sent a spray of water that spattered against Petra and Octavius.

  Petra found it impossible not to watch his body as he moved, so impressive was his physique. Octavius squeezed her hand, and Petra darted a glance his way, her cheeks heating.

  Hades walked to one wall, glanced back once, then strode through the rock, seeming to melt into it.

  Octavius pulled her hand, making to follow, but Petra tugged against him. “Can’t we run? Can’t you try to escape?”

  “There’s nowhere they won’t find us. There’s a game to be played. Keep your wits about you.”

  The harsh tension in his face softened, and he lifted her chin. “You will come to no harm. But living humans rarely cross. Many would approach you. Perhaps it’s a blessing Hades has taken a personal interest in you.”

  “What about his woman? I read that he has one.”

  “Persephone doesn’t return until Fall. Hades is as much a whoremaster as his brother, Zeus. If he desires you, he will have you.” His thumb caressed her lower lip then his head bent.

  Petra rose on tiptoe and met him for the kiss. Soft, gentle…just what she needed to bolster her newfound courage. How had he known she needed it?

  Octavius broke the kiss. “Ready?” He pulled her toward the rock wall where Hades had disappeared. She closed her eyes and followed, not meeting hard stone but stepping through another velvet gate.

  When she opened her eyes, she stood inside a hall with divans lining an open, golden marble floor. Hades waited, one dark brow lifting as though asking why they’d taken so long.

  Petra blushed; Octavius swaggered forward. Then she got a good look at the creatures filling the seats, supping from large round trays of roasted meat, cheese, and fresh fruit. Most appeared human but beautiful beyond belief. A few were halflings—men and women crossed with goats, wolves, and bulls. A satyr drew her stare, his long brown-furred legs and sharp hooves blending to a human torso and genitalia. His sex was engorged, openly aroused. His arm was draped around a woman who didn’t seem to mind that her companion was part animal.

  Dancers filled the center of the floor, their glistening bodies undulating. They were adorned in jewels that sparkled from their necks and nipples and glinted among pubic hair.

  The scent of the fruity wine served in golden chalices reminded Petra how long it had been since she’d had a drink—the water fountain at the airport—another world away.

  As they stepped deeper into the room, heads turned their way, females eyeing Octavius with open lust, while she received calculated glances from the males. She slipped beneath his arm and cuddled against his side.

  Hades chuckled, the smile not reaching his eyes. “Baths, first.” He snapped his fingers and two naked servants, both female, trotted into the room and knelt in front of him, their foreheads pressed against the floor. “See to their needs then bring them to me.”

  Grateful to leave the crowded room, Petra followed in the wake of the eager women, who led them down a long corridor that grew more damp and humid as they neared the end.

  A doorway opened onto a large, white-tiled pool. The water glowed, lit from beneath the surface. Steam rose, dampening her skin.

  Her clothes were drawn from her body. The women’s hands lingered over her, smoothing over her skin, their eyes widening, their breaths quickening.

  Octavius watched, amused by the arousal growing inside the women. He was all but ignored in their excitement, but he didn’t seem to mind. Ripping away the fabric covering his hips, he strode down the steps into the water then turned to watch as the women led her to the water, their hands tight around hers.

  They pushed her down on the second submerged step and reached for pots of sweet-smelling soap which they rubbed over their own breasts, then leaned forward to stroke against hers. Nipples swirled over her skin.

  “Gargoyle?” Petra said, her voice rising in alarm as the women swarmed over her, low throaty moans erupting from them.

  His answering laughter was wicked and warm. “Revenge is sweet.”

  “Bastard,” she said, her view cut off when one woman straddled her waist, her knees on the step. A breast lowered toward her mouth.

  The soap was gone, but the nipple was inescapable. And Petra knew he watched, so she opened her mouth and suckled. The woman’s breasts were more generous in size than her own and soft.

  So soft. She rubbed her lips around the areola and worked the tip with the flat of her tongue, enjoying the shivering gasps from the woman whose sex rubbed against her hip.

  Below, where she couldn’t see, fingers traced her folds, stroking inward, swirling inside her. But the fingers moved away, trailing down her leg. Her foot was lifted, the instep kissed, and then her toes were pushed between slender thighs and shoved up against a wet pussy that ground around and around.

  As the women’s voices rose, Petra grew restless and increasingly alarmed. They clung to her like leeches, rubbing every part of themselves they could against her. The water lapped higher as they churned against her, splashing her face.

  Petra drew back from the breast pressed hard against her mouth. “I can’t breathe. Get off.”

  But the women dragged her down, rubbing their bodies on her, their heads thrown back.

  A shadow passed above her. Octavius’s glance swept over them then came back to lock with hers. “So, this is how it is for you?”

  “Make them stop,” she said, her breaths jagged with growing alarm. “It’s too much.”

  “And you can’t find your own pleasure? That’s the bigger problem, isn’t it?”

  “Help me,” she pleaded, her body growing chilled despite the heat of the water surrounding them.

  Octavius reached down and pulled up both women by their hair. Their fingers scratched wildly at him. Moving quickly, he grabbed arms and shook them hard until their heads lolled, and their expressions cleared.

  Fear drained the blood from their faces. “We did not know,” one of them said. “How can we make amends?”

  Octavius’s head swiveled toward her. “What would please you, Petra?”

  The sharpness of his gaze and jaw excited her. She scanned downward and noted the fullness of his cock. “They won’t be able to control themselves,” she said slowly.

  “Their passion can be directed.”

  “How?”

  “Would you care how you achieve your pleasure? Would you care what I might do?”

  Images of Octavius stroking into a pussy, not hers, sent a rush of heat to spike her nipples. She shook her head, her own body so suffused by desire, she couldn’t speak.

  Octavius pointed the women toward a chaise lounge beside the pool then bent to lift Petra into his arms.

  The tension in his body as he held her transferred to her. She turned and rubbed a breast against his chest and tongued the side of his neck, eager to get closer.

  His chuckle, low and wicked, told her everything she needed to know. This time wouldn’t be all about her.

  Octavius sat her on the end of the lounger and pushed her down among the cushions. Her legs splayed open toward the end. Then he thrust his hand into the hair of one of the women and pushed her face toward Petra’s sex. The other’s mouth he shoved toward her breasts. “I will s
top you from finding your pleasure if you forget hers.”

  Then he lifted the bottom of the one whose mouth was even now rubbing over Petra’s inflamed folds. He grasped his cock, squeezing up and down his shaft. His gaze dropped to the woman’s upturned bottom.

  Petra could only stare. Thick and veined, the tan shaft glistened with moisture. The blunt head was red. A prominent flange surrounded it. Her body remembered the snug fit, and moisture washed down her channel.

  A wet tongue lapped up her arousal. A low moan vibrated against her. The woman sucking at her nipple caught fire and rooted vigorously, her hands gliding over her other breast to fondle and squeeze.

  Octavius watched it all, slowly stroking himself. Then he pointed the tip downward, letting Petra watch as he traced the woman’s crease, clutched her buttocks hard, then drove into the servant’s pussy.

  She was a petite woman, and Petra knew the moment she felt the pinch of his shaft cramming inward. She screamed against her. Her face pressed closer, rubbing into her folds as her orgasm left her mindless.

  Octavius didn’t relent. His gaze bored into hers as he pounded against the woman’s bottom, causing it to jiggle, forcing her face forward and back, her lax mouth continuing to rub over Petra’s folds—but torturing her with glides that didn’t give her the friction she craved.

  Petra tried to lift her hips, but the women’s weight held her down. She thrashed her head and rolled her shoulders to slip her breast from the other woman’s mouth.

  The woman latched harder around the nipple, her teeth clamping down.

  “Gargoyle!” Petra shouted, not recognizing her own ragged voice. Her body was strung so tightly, so inflamed, she began to weep.

  Petra’s body vibrated, watching the cock disappear, watching the thick muscles of his lower abdomen ripple as he stroked forward and back into the other woman. He reached down when the woman paused, her lips opening, just touching Petra’s sex. “See to her pleasure,” he growled and pushed her face hard against Petra.

  The woman’s lips latched around her hooded clit and suckled; a muffled moan of pleasure vibrated against her.

  His hand lifted and slid around the bottom of the woman whose lips were fastened on her breast. The woman shivered, and wet succulent sounds from where his hand disappeared told Petra all she needed to know. He would take his pleasure from the women while he watched the servants devour her sex and breasts.

  They labored, their breaths shortening, their bodies writhing, and she lay there, closing her eyes to the sights, endeavoring to concentrate only on the sensations they provoked. Lips and tongues slid wet and slippery over her most intimate parts. Fingers glided deep, swirling in the liquid oozing down her passage.

  As pleasurable as the soft skin pressing closer was, she wanted the women gone, wanted a cock thrusting deep, wanted what Octavius had given her before—free of her magic, driven only by his lust for her.

  Still the mouth torturing her clit was circling, tightening her womb like a spring as it swirled, tighter, harder, until her hips lifted against the mouth, and her back arched to press her pussy deeper against the small, feminine mouth.

  But the women were already reaching their own peaks, their lips growing slack, their cries loud and keening.

  Octavius withdrew from the one in front of him and pushed her toward the water. Then he lifted the one lying across Petra’s breast. “Cool off in the pool.”

  The woman’s dreamy eyes blinked, and she nodded absently, sending Petra another longing gaze, before she followed his instructions, leaving Petra alone with Octavius.

  His glance fell to her open legs, and he fisted his cock. “What would end your torture, Petra?”

  “You,” she moaned, sliding her hands over her belly, slipping fingers into the dampness between her legs. “You. Deep inside me.”

  He let go of himself and reached for her ankles, dragging her bottom to the end of the lounge. “I found myself thirsty watching her lick your cunt.”

  “It’s very wet,” she said, strumming her fingers over her folds, teasing him and wondering where she found the courage. Had it only been a few hours since she’d mounted him shyly in the garden?

  He knelt between her legs, his fingers sliding hers away to resume the rhythmic stroking.

  Her sex clasped noisily.

  “Hungry, are you?” he whispered.

  She smiled. “Starving. Gargoyle, I need more.”

  “You try to command me, even now. Where does your courage come from?”

  Petra let her eyelids droop. “From you. You make me dare things I never dreamed.”

  Octavius placed one knee on the lounge and lowered his hips. She draped one leg over his hip and lifted her sex toward his cock. He glided inside her in one powerful thrust, and her back arched.

  That’s all it took. She exploded, pleasure radiating outward from her channel, rippling along his length as he shafted her over and over.

  The pleasure didn’t wane, only grew, and she screamed. Hands, small feminine fingers, plucked her nipples, smoothed over her belly, tucking into the top of her folds to rub her clit, extending her orgasm as once again a breast landed on her lips and another filled her palm. She suckled and squeezed, latched her thigh around a hard hip, and ground groin to groin with Octavius as bodies writhed—liquid, arching, fragrant with arousals interweaving.

  When at last her body calmed, she found Octavius pressed to her chest and the women lying half on the chaise beside her, their hands petting her, stroking over him.

  Octavius saw her expression, and she knew she must have looked amazed, confused, because his head jerked back, and he laughed.

  More pleased than she could say, she smiled back, happy in the moment, fulfilled beyond any imaginings. Free as she’d never felt before. And suddenly, she wasn’t so eager to find her way home. She never wanted to leave this man, her gargoyle.

  Octavius watched along with the rest of the council and hangers-on as Petra was brought back into the hall. He hadn’t seen her since their attendants had swept her away to dress her.

  Watching her now, he held himself still, suppressing the urge to growl and gnash his teeth, but just barely.

  Dressed completely in gold, she looked like a goddess among the gods and halflings attending the celebration.

  Gold coins, joined to form a headdress, covered her hair and framed her face. However, her pale hair falling midway down her back shone brighter than the gold.

  More joined coins, loosely draped across her chest, barely hid the swell of her small breasts. A swag of gold chains encircled her strong hips, cinched at one side to bare the side of one hip, and if one watched closely, her bottom and sex were revealed as the chains swung.

  She didn’t seem to mind that every glance watched for those fleeting reveals, but then again, her gaze never left his.

  His frustration tempered only slightly, he sat back against the cushions of his divan and watched as she was brought in front of Hades.

  The master hadn’t bothered to wear a robe. A short swath of plain linen covered his loins. As plain and modest as his attire was, there was no mistaking who held the power. All gazes were trained on the man whose powerful body sat seemingly relaxed. But they’d all seen him unleash his anger and his desire and knew well to be wary.

  Servants pressed on Petra’s shoulders, pushing her to her knees, but this time, the servants wore linen gloves, having been informed of Petra’s special gift.

  Hades’ dark gaze raked her body greedily. And Octavius knew the ruler wouldn’t deny his curiosity this night. As lusty as his brother, Hades would never think to deny his own pleasure, and he’d cast covetous glances her way as soon as they’d stepped inside his forge.

  This moment was inevitable. Octavius wondered whether the newly awakened sensuality that burned inside Petra would be hot enough not to be smothered by the dark god.

  “Sit beside me,” Hades said softly, patting a velvet cushion.

  Everyone listened. The music had s
topped as soon as she entered the room.

  Petra’s wild gaze sought Octavius’s. He forced himself to keep his face free of emotion but nodded.

  “She needs your permission?” Hades said, his voice wryly incredulous.

  “She is her own master.”

  “And yet she seeks your approval.” Hades held out his hand, indicating she should take her seat, one brow challenging her as she settled beside him. “How has he earned your trust?”

  A swallow worked the muscles of her neck, but Petra lifted her chin. “Since we met, he’s seen to my safety and my pleasure.”

  Hades arched a thick brow. “So, he’s been unselfish?”

  “I didn’t say that. Our pleasure has been mutual.”

  “And yet your association is sadly at an end.”

  Petra’s lips pressed together, and her gaze sought Octavius again. “But he is the only one who can keep me safe.”

  “You are under my protection now.”

  Petra’s face tightened. “I don’t mean you any disrespect…milord, but you won’t protect me. Not once you’ve touched me.”

  Hades’ gaze studied her. “This gift you possess… Tell me about it.”

  Petra swallowed hard. “My touch inflames, causing uncontrollable arousal in everyone…except Octavius. That’s why I need him, to keep others’ lust from overwhelming me.”

  Hades lifted his hand, and Petra drew back from it, but he only touched her hair, lifting a tangle from her breast and rubbing it between his fingers. “I would experience this mindless arousal for myself.”

  “But I’m afraid,” she whispered. “You’re strong. You won’t be able to rein in your passion. It’s unrelenting.”

  “I have servants who can intervene.”

  “You would strike out at them if they tried to pull you away from me,” she said, her voice growing stronger. “Are any of them brave enough to face your anger? Would you hold back killing them if you were enraged?”