The Soul Refiner Bk. 01 Ch. 25-27

"Then I will support you master, and we will tear apart their plans." She pressed her neck into my hand, and I felt her swallow.

"Good. I will need your support, and your judgment. I meant what I said to Tarun. I will not throw away our lives, but we will bleed them. I'm sure of it."

Chapter 27

My fingers slid around Myta's neck, and I drew her in for a fierce kiss. Our talk of vengeance had stirred my blood, or perhaps it was my revitalized ambition. I hadn't felt this much excitement in many years, and the energy it brought me was euphoric. My vas, for her part, returned my kiss with something akin to desperation. She had been afraid for my life, then afraid of my disapproval, and now she shook with reaction. The release of that fear, that tension unwinding, left her far more vulnerable than the fear itself had.

Whimpering, Myta opened her mouth to me, her lips soft and yielding to mine. She pressed her throat harder into my hand again, and I tightened my grip, feeling the vibration of her appreciative moan. My tongue plunged into her mouth, as much to claim her as to pursue our joint pleasure. I could feel that she wanted, needed, the release that feeling helpless brought her. I siphoned her mana away, letting her strength ebb, and pushed her back against the corridor wall by her neck. Then, in a flash of inspiration, I visualized her collar, as it appeared in her inner world, tightening around her neck.

The marking on my flame's throat lit up with silver light, shining even through my hand. Myta let out another hoarse moan, almost a squeal, as she felt the collar tighten. Her breath was as restricted as if I were cinching a strap around her neck. I let go of her throat, and stroked her cheek with the back of my fingers, while keeping her pinned against the wall by nothing but that spiritual restraint. She met my gaze, with trust and pleading in her eyes, even as her moans were replaced by desperate gasps.

The sound of shattering pottery broke the moment. I loosened the collar, allowing Myta to gasp in deep breaths as I looked over at the servant standing there. He was staring at the two of us with wide eyes, trembling in fear, with a jug of wine laying broken at his feet. I could only imagine what he thought of the tableau before him, but in that moment I didn't particularly care. Even so, I wanted privacy with my flame.

I set off toward our bedroom, Myta trailing behind me as though on an invisible leash. The marking on her neck was still glowing, and it bore golden sigils that had not shown there before. I would need to investigate that more deeply, and soon, but for now it was enough that this sorcery would serve my desires, as well as Myta's needs.

As we entered our room, I used the collar to pull my vas to the center of the floor, watching her movements carefully. It was quickly apparent that the force I exerted was entirely in her mind, made real by her body's responses. I could cut off her breathing, drag her around, probably even injure her if I were so inclined. But I would never be able to lift her off the ground by it, for example. It was still more than enough control for what I had in mind.

"Strip." I said. It was a command that Myta was well accustomed to hearing from me by now, and her body flushed in reaction. A trained response to the short, simple word. Her body was tingling with anticipation, and arousal and I enjoyed this additional little bit of power I had over her. Knowing that her body was preparing for my attentions at only a word. She hastened to do as I'd instructed, shucking her clothing in short order. Naked, she stood still, shivering under my gaze.

I paced around her, stalked, really. I was feeling aggressive, almost predatory. Stepping in close behind her, I brushed the hair from the back of her neck, watching the colors, from copper to crimson, ripple through the strands. Pressing my face to her neck, I took a deep breath, groaning softly in visceral pleasure at the scent of her skin. She whimpered, just a little, weight shifting as her thighs rubbed together.

"My flame. Tell me where you belong." My voice sounded like a growl in my own ears

"I belong to you, master! I belong with you." Myta's voice stumbled a little as she tried to work out the phrasing I wanted. It didn't matter to me though, what I wanted from her was the sentiment, and the enthusiasm. Even so, it warmed me that she cared enough to worry over the words,

"You already decided, you'd rather die with me than have your bond taken by another. Didn't you?" I slid my hand around her, to rub her pearl. I wouldn't have asked her such a serious question in these conditions if I wasn't already certain of the answer. Her emotions, when speaking of potential risk and death, had already betrayed it.

"Yes, master! I would rather die than leave you! You make me feel..." she trailed off, and her shoulders tried to curl forward. As though to recapture that half-completed sentence.

"Tell me, Myta. How do I make you feel?" I nipped the back of her neck.

"Loved! Safe! Valued, master. You make me feel like I belong." Her shoulders jerked with almost sobs, and her fear burned bright. Fear of my rejection, despite what we had been through together, despite the rapport we'd built.

"You do belong with me. I've told you already, you are mine for as long as that is what you desire. Your heart is safe with me, my love." My skin prickled, and I felt a moment of vertigo, as my mind caught up to the words I had spoken. Those last two words had been unintentional, previously unvoiced even within my own mind, but they resonated with truth to my very core. Not wanting to face that just now, I pressed Myta down to the ground using her collar, guiding her onto her back.

My vas was crying, tears streaming down her cheeks, and then back into her hair as I laid her down. But her shoulders no longer shook, and her emotions spoke of joy and release. I tightened the collar again, not enough to cut off her breathing or blood flow, just enough to restrict both. Her eyes stared up into mine, completely unafraid as she panted, growing steadily more lightheaded. I brushed the pad of my thumb across her lips, then leaned over to kiss her, stealing what breath she had. My lips sealed hers, my tongue plunging deep between them, and I could feel the hot moisture of her panting breaths on my cheek. Her nostrils flared as she struggled for air.

With a groan of reluctance, I pulled my lips from hers, and kissed my way down across her chin and throat. Short pecks, interspersed with light nips of her pale gray skin. When I reached her breasts, I gave the collar some slack, allowing her to take in deep, heaving breaths. The sudden rush of oxygen nearly caused her to lose consciousness, but I bit her left breast hard, to keep her grounded and aware.

I let her catch her breath for a count of ten, before tightening the collar again. I bit her right breast as I did so, to even her out. The indentations left by my teeth bruised quickly, and I stopped to admire them as my flame's control began to falter. Her hands came up, fingers stroking, then scraping at her neck. Trying to grasp at a restraint that didn't physically exist.

I kissed my way down her belly, and then down her mound. My hands pinning her hips down as her body writhed in increasing desperation. An instinctive response to my torment. I spread her knees roughly, forcing her thighs open as her heels kicked at the woven mat beneath us, exposing her soaked flower. Myta was always generous with her juices, but now they literally dripped to the floor, filling the room with her sweet and spicy scent. I pushed two fingers roughly inside her, then added a third when I felt no resistance. That got me what I wanted, stretching her channel as I shoved them deep inside her.

I was neither slow, nor gentle, as I began to work my fingers in and out. Myta was gasping, her hips bucking with motions so uncoordinated that I couldn't tell if she was trying to assist or escape. Either way, I refused to relent, my hand ramping up in force and speed, until my palm was slapping against her mound hard enough to stimulate her pearl. It took longer than it needed to, far longer than if I had attended to her body with skill rather than force. My rough thrusting was more of a tease than anything, building Myta's pleasure slowly. But then, that was the point. This was far more about control than physical release.

When her climax finally hit, it did so with the force of an earthquake, and I tightened the collar yet again, cutting off her breathing entirely for a long count of three. Her legs snapped out to their full extension, quivering, heels drumming at the floor. And then I released her breath, all at once. It took another two seconds for her to realize that she could breathe, and then she drew in a ragged gulp of air. I thought she would scream, but the noise she finally produced was cracked and broken.

Blindly her hands grasped at me, and I lay down atop her. Releasing her collar from the floor, I rolled the both of us over so that she was laid atop me instead. I had never undressed, and she struggled to strip my clothes from me with shaking, clumsy fingers. I helped and we awkwardly dispensed with my garments. Awkwardly, because she refused to stop touching me, with as much of her body as she could manage.

"Inside, please?" She begged me, somewhat incoherently. I knew what she wanted however, and obliged. Slipping my painfully erect shaft between her thighs and into her sodden core. We didn't move, didn't speak further, just recovering from the intensity of the moment. Enjoying the closeness.

When Myta finally regained her strength, she raised herself up on her arms, and began to ride me slowly. Undulating her body, she milked with her channel to a gentle, but incredibly productive climax. She didn't peak again, or if she did it was so gentle as to be indistinguishable from her continuing aftershocks. Nevertheless she groaned as I finished inside her, my voluminous seed overflowing from her where we were joined.

Falling back down to my chest, Myta seemed unwilling, or unable, to move again. Despite the mess and awkwardness, I couldn't bring myself to move either. She was a warm, comforting weight atop me, murmuring vaguely into my ear as she drifted into a nap. There was an unfamiliar warmth in my chest as I thought about the words I had unwittingly spoken earlier. A comfort in simply resting with my vas, my precious flame.

My love.