Page 22 of Ruled By Magic

I shook my head, unable to force out more on the topic.

“That’s okay. I’m sure you’ll be wonderful. Now, on your knees.”

Absolute authority wrapped in gentle words. Something inside me latched onto the praise and wanted to hear more of it. Why? Any thought of disobeying seemed far away, ridiculous. An impossibility. I sank down to the soft carpet and looked up at him, eyes wide. Unsure how to begin.

He reached out his hand and ran his thumb over my lips. “So obedient.” The words brought forth a faint curl of pleasure, mixed with guilt at the truth of them. I was obedient. His obedient little consort, just as he portrayed me to the public gaze.

He unbuckled his belt and trousers to allow me access. I steeled myself and shuffled between his legs. He brushed my hair back behind my ears and pulled his cock free. “You can use your hands as well, this time. Open wide and use your tongue. Take me as deep as you can.”

Instructions on how to pleasure him. As if it was a job I had to do, a responsibility to fulfill. In a way, it was. I shied away from the implication. From the ugly word the thought brought along with it.

I placed my hands on his shaft. He was well endowed—long and thick. What would he feel like later on, inside me? Would it hurt? I pushed the thought aside. He drew a sharp breath as my fingers touched the sensitive skin, and an unexpected tendril of excitement made its way through the haze in my brain. With a slow, uncertain movement, I reached out my tongue and swirled it over the head. He tasted clean and salty. His scent filled my nose, and I stretched up higher on my knees to take him in my mouth.

A gasp escaped him as I slid my lips and tongue down the shaft. The noise drew my gaze up against my will. He leaned back in his seat, eyes half closed but locked on me. The lazy sensuality of the position stirred something in me, and desire pooled in my core. It shouldn’t. I should hate it. On my knees, servicing the man who loved to torment me. I should despise every second.

But I didn’t.

“Again. Deeper this time.” I slid down him again, firmer, pushing myself to take a little more. He tangled his hand in my hair. “Yes. Like that. You’re doing well.”

His words came out short and clipped, as if speaking was an effort. He applied gentle pressure and I let him set the pace. With each stroke he urged me deeper, and I stretched up further to avoid my gag reflex. He moaned, and a thrill ran through me.

An ache settled into my jaw as he worked my head up and down. I shifted position to ease the pressure on my knees. The disparity of it, of him receiving pleasure in comfort while I worked hard to provide it, tugged at me. Irritation mingled with a strange satisfaction.

He tightened his grip on my hair, and his movements became rougher, more insistent. “That’s it. Don’t you dare stop.”

I gagged as his cock hit the back of my throat but fought through it. The Lord Commander was close now, I could tell. He pushed my head down three more times, his cock spasmed, and warm, salty liquid filled my mouth. His hand still gripped me, keeping me pressed down on him for a few moments longer before he let me go. He stroked my hair, a soothing gesture, as if petting a well-behaved house cat. My mind recoiled from the image. I slid up his shaft and swallowed.

As I licked my lips clean, I took in the Lord Commander. He leaned against the seat back, eyes closed. He raised his head and gave me an appraising look, all satisfaction. “You’re a quick learner. I’ll make sure you get lots of practice, to really perfect the skill.”

My stomach twisted at the words. The certainty that my mouth would be available to him whenever he wanted it.

Blue light flashed. I cried out as magic swirled and lifted me. The room lurched, and I squeezed my eyes shut. My body settled, and I risked opening them a crack. Fear spun through me as I raised my head—the little I could—and made sense of my position.

I lay on the Lord Commander’s desk, arms at my sides, legs spread wide apart. Blue ropes of magic restrained me at wrist, ankle, and across my stomach. They glowed with a soft light but failed to yield as I pushed against them. Cool air caressed my skin, and I let out a cry.

I was naked.

The bright sunshine streaming in through the window highlighted my exposure. I associated sex with darkness, or at least dim lighting. Fumbling under bedsheets. Now, spread out for examination like a specimen, my face flushed hot, and I turned my head to find him.

He stood to one side, gaze intense as he studied my body. I drew in a shaky breath. “Lord Commander, I—”

He leaned over and placed a finger to my lips, cutting me off. “Be quiet. I want to enjoy this.”

I fell silent.

His eyes skimmed my form. Every instinct screamed at me to cover myself. To snap my legs closed, place my hands over my breasts. I strained against the magic, unable to stop despite knowing how futile it was.

Helpless. For the first time since I arrived, the true extent of his power sunk in. With it, he could take control of me any way he saw fit. I could do nothing, not one thing, but hope he treated me kindly. Primal fear mixed with something darker, a desperate need.

He leaned down to whisper in my ear. “I’m going to touch you now, wherever I want. It’s all mine to play with. You understand that now, don’t you? Really understand it?”

Words failed me and I let out a whimper. It seemed to satisfy him, as he turned his attention to my body. He began at my shoulders. Featherlight touches traced down my arms and skimmed the tops of my breasts. I moaned as he toyed with my nipples, teased them to hardness, and ran his thumbs over the sensitive points again and again. Need burned in my center as the pleasure built, tantalizing but nowhere close to release. I squirmed against the bonds and he laughed.

“If I had time, I’d do this for hours. Can you imagine the frustration?” His voice held a darker quality, almost menacing, and I shook my head.

He moved lower, exploring the contours of my stomach and hips. By the time he reached my inner thighs my breath came in deep pants, all my being focused on the one spot he hadn’t touched yet—the throbbing ache.

“Are you wet, Livet? Do you want me to slide my fingers into you? To make you climax, like I did last night?”

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