Page 30 of What Fury Brings (Wrath and Fury #1)

S anos’s mind was running wild with possibilities.

Would she use her hands or her mouth? Would she do it on the bed or on her knees? Would she be clothed or naked?

The moment they reached the palace, she separated from him, likely to fill in the queen on the events of the day or perhaps to confront her cousin. He didn’t know, and he had a hard time thinking too much about it with Olerra’s plans for the evening.

He didn’t even protest as the eunuchs led him to the bathing chamber this time around.

He daydreamed as they washed him, even as they cleaned his foreskin and his ass.

Although, he flinched when someone came up behind him and spread his cheeks wide, holding some small contraption in his hands.

A moment later, he felt warm water shoot up his ass.

“What the fuck?”

“The princess requested a more thorough cleaning for tonight,” the man behind him said. “Just a few times more.” The water came again. It wasn’t unpleasant. He just didn’t like that these men were seeing every intimate part of him laid bare.

He needed to bargain with Olerra for private baths. She’d probably insist that he couldn’t be as thorough as the eunuchs, and she’d be right. No man washed himself this completely. Why the hell would he need to?

They took extra care with his feet, which were scraped and raw from the day’s activities. They washed them gently before covering them in ointment and soft cloths.

The same man from his first evening in the palace showed up. The one who’d stripped the hair from his chest. Sanos winced at the sight of him.

“Well met, Prince.”

He started to forget what the night promised, his mood turning sour as the eunuchs tied him down so he couldn’t fight. The waxing burned, as usual. Though he wasn’t quite as sore afterward, as if his body remembered this pain and accepted it.

They shaved the hair from his face that had already grown back since the morning, before rubbing some sort of soothing cream into his skin. It felt nice and smelled nicer. Was it a scent Olerra liked? Or something they used on everyone?

Why do I care?

Gods, but this place was getting to him.

What would another month do?

What about after the marriage?

He couldn’t think like that. Sanos would get Olerra her throne or find a different opportunity to escape.

After Olerra pleasured him.

He would take what he could from her. He was owed for all the inconveniences of being here. And then he would get out.

They put him in another short skirt that tied at the side before leading him back to Olerra’s wing of the palace.

When they entered her bedroom, she wasn’t there.

They bypassed her bed and went into his room.

He thought perhaps they’d tie him to the bed once more.

Instead, he found something new inside. There was a chain hanging from the ceiling.

One of the eunuchs brought forth a hook and attached it to the chain.

Another lowered the pulley so the hook rested between Sanos’s manacled hands.

He should have guessed what came next. They hoisted him until his wrists were high in the air and he stood on his toes.

Then the men left without a word, and he was staring at the bare wall in front of him.

Every minute of waiting seemed like a lifetime. There was nothing to do, nothing to see. He could only feel the strain in his muscles and feet, which were already sore from the barefoot excursions of the day, though the ointment was doing wonders for him.

When the door opened, his muscles went taut, and his cock started to move. Gods, he couldn’t even see her yet. How was she doing this?

“Good evening, Prince,” she said from behind him.

Her voice sent a shiver through him, and he was already half-hard. He absolutely shouldn’t be. Not trussed up like a pig hung to dry.

“Why am I chained to the ceiling?” he asked, silently applauding himself for his calm tone. She couldn’t see his cock yet. Had no idea the effect she had on him.

“It’ll be better this way.”

“For you, you mean?”

“For us both.”

“I think the bed would be much more comfortable for a cocksucking.”

“Who said anything about a cocksucking?”

So she would use her hands. The knowledge heated his skin. Yes, he wanted her hands on him. Wanted it right now.

There was a scraping against the floor as she moved something. Furniture? He managed to turn enough to see a small table. There was a pot on top, a lid hiding its contents.

“What is that?”

“Again with the questions. You still have so much for me to teach you, Prince.”

That drew a laugh from him. “Of the two of us, only I have had sexual relations. I should think you would have questions for me.”

“I would wager that I know how your body works far better than you do.”

“Unlikely,” he breathed back in response.

“We teach our people anatomy and physiology from the time they are children. My understanding is that all sexual experiences in your kingdom are only experienced firsthand, which I imagine leads to many disappointing encounters.”

“And how are these things taught?” he asked.

“During the teen years, with books, both fiction and nonfiction. With diagrams and detailed descriptions in the classroom. And women are allowed to observe at the brothels should they choose.”

His breath hiked up. “You’re voyeurs,” he said, though the thought of her watching others in the act also excited him. The fact that she knew what to do pleased him. He wouldn’t have to talk her through how to touch him.

“Call it what you like, Prince, but some people like to be watched. Now, before I begin, I need your consent. Do I have it?”

He let his head drift forward.

“I’m afraid I’m going to need verbal assent, Andrastus.”

He clenched his teeth. “Prince.”

“What?”

“While we do this. Call me Prince, rather than by my name.” It shouldn’t have mattered. He’d listened to her call him Andrastus dozens of times by now.

But right now, he didn’t want to hear his brother’s name.

There was a silence. “As you like, but I’m going to insist that you call me by my name. You’ve never said it when talking to me. Not once. Now tell me that you want this and use my name.”

His next breath released on a shudder. “I want this, Olerra.”

She hummed from behind him, much closer now. “I like the way that sounds on your lips. Will you scream it when I make you come?”

He couldn’t answer her. No, instead his hips jerked forward, seeking friction without his say-so.

A laugh rumbled out of her. “Let’s see if I can get it out of you. Now, I will check in with you as we go, but if at any time you wish me to stop, simply say so. You say the word stop , and I stop. Understood?”

“Yes,” he said.

“Yes, what?”

He closed his eyes. “Yes, Olerra.”

“Good boy.”

He heard the lid to the pot removed, and a pleasant smell wafted into the room. Something earthy with just the lightest fragrance of roses.

“What is that?”

“Oil, Prince. Special oil for bedtime activities.”

He swallowed.

“May I touch you?”

“Yes, Olerra.”

She drew away the only piece of cloth covering him. He felt overheated, despite the lack of clothing.

A single finger touched the back of his neck and trailed down his spine. It was so light he almost couldn’t feel it, and goose bumps erupted on his naked flesh. She stopped at his lower back.

Then he could feel her hot breath on his upper back as she traced the same path with her lips.

She couldn’t reach his neck from this position, which was a shame, but he reveled in the feel of her skin tracing his.

She didn’t kiss him, just let her lips skim the path.

Her tongue darted out once when she reached his lower back this time, and he jerked forward again.

Seeking contact that wasn’t there with her behind him.

Her breath teased his shoulders once more, and he braced himself for whatever torture she had in store next.

It was her teeth that trailed his spine next. They skimmed his skin, nipping occasionally. He was breathing faster once she finished.

Her hands touched his shoulders, and in the next moment, she was massaging him. Working the knots from his tense muscles. He leaned back into that touch, the padded manacles keeping him aloft. His tense muscles relaxed, but his hard cock sure didn’t.

No one had… ever touched him this way before. When he paid for companionship, the deed was usually over pretty quickly…

Because the women at the brothels wanted it over as soon as possible, he now realized.

Olerra worked her way down his back, scoring her thumbs into his muscles. Her hands went lower and lower, and he wondered when exactly she would stop.

She didn’t; she kept up her ministrations when she reached his ass, kneading, in his opinion, expertly.

“What about this?” he asked on a pant. “Have you done this to anyone else before?” He wasn’t sure why he bothered to voice the question. Maybe it felt strange to simply hang there without touching. Without looking.

“Just you, My Prince.” She made that delicious humming noise again. “Your muscles are so large everywhere. Even here.” She cupped his cheeks, one hand on either side, and he relished in the sensation. He wished he could touch her right now.

Her hands left him, and he felt empty immediately. Tension built as he waited to feel what she would do next. He waited for her to appear in front of him.

He heard her messing with the pot, the sluicing sound of her wetting her hands. The slickness would give him the perfect slide when she finally got her fingers around him.

Instead, he felt a finger in a place he never had before.

She circled his entrance, and he lunged forward with his hips once more.

He heard the smile. “Was that a good or bad retreat?”

His lips parted to tell her bad. He meant to ask her what the fuck she was doing. He wanted to know why she wasn’t on her knees yet. Why the hell—

She traced a finger up the seam of him, and the word he exhaled was “Good.”

Because it did feel good. It felt like nothing he’d ever felt before.