Page 81 of Eternal Craving

Remaining still now seemed like the next best option, until I had time at least to think. I may very well need to talk my way out of this. Surprisingly, the only part of me that seemed not to understand this threat was between my legs and, interestingly, it continued to find pleasure in all of this.

And as Sunaria settled back on top of me, sitting astride, I had no choice but to relent. When I entered her, I let out a cry, cursing my inability to obey, scared that my outburst might cease this mind-blowing pleasure.

Too late, she froze.

Taking small breaths, I cursed myself for such weakness. But as she resumed, taking me all the way in, rising and falling, I felt gratitude that she’d forgiven my indiscretion. She unbuttoned her shirt and revealed her full breasts. She tweaked and rubbed her dark, perfect buds, and they responded.

I dug my nails into the palm of my other hand. It helped, along with how the metal chafed my wrists.

This was the very image that I’d seen the day she’d turned me. When I’d followed that pathway, the choice that led to what I was now, she’d taken me this way, eased my transformation and I’d welcomed it, as I welcomed her now.

Seeing her like this, as she ignored me, used me, it heightened my desire. She reached between her legs, her fingers shiny from stroking herself into a luscious, sensuous trance.

All I desired for her in this moment was her utter enjoyment, and when Sunaria’s eyes met mine, I knew that my lesson had been realized. Despite being bound, I drew on my stomach muscles, shifting my weight, slamming against her, hearing her gasps turn into screams as my thrusts met hers. I wanted nothing more than to take her to the edge and beyond, blinding her, surrendering her to time and place.

Her mouth went slack as she let out a long groan, her body tightening, her breasts quivering as I pumped her, knowing that I’d taken her to the edge. Despite these chains, she’d elicited her sensual excitement from me.

Quickened with the thought that my obsession with her would find its way back to me, my own explosion caught my breath, and my hips pumped higher as I chased after my blissful release.

With a deep sigh, I realized that she’d again placed me in bondage, erotically confined me with her domineering presence. And as the last ripples made their way through my body, I felt beholden to her.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

As I strolled along one of the darker corridors within the senatorial residence, I wondered if Felipe had developed his sea legs yet. Although only a day had passed since he’d set sail, I imagined he regretted ever getting on that boat.

I rubbed my wrists. The stark memory of the chains that Sunaria had used caused my hardness to swell.

But I had work to do.

Felipe’s desk remained the same as when he’d left it. Papers were strewn across the table, and a half-written letter lay abandoned. Remembering what the architect had conveyed through his blood when I’d taken his life, I shoved the bookcase back and found the secret doorway, eager to discover what lay on the other side.

Standing within the dark chamber, I reached into my coat pocket and withdrew the forged waxed stamp, with King Ferdinand’s royal seal engraved in the silver base. I placed it upon a worn tabletop. Beside it I lay a parchment covered with the same signature practiced over and over again, proof that someone had studied the flick of the wrist of the flamboyant F of Ferdinand.

I examined several of the wooden boxes stacked high against the far wall. Inside one of them was a collection of coins, an embellished cross, and a Catholic communion chalice. Shoved in with them was a warrant stating that failure to pay taxes would result in even more items being confiscated.

In another of the boxes was a collection of tatty documents. Felipe had not only taken possessions from the Church, but also local residents’ legal rights to their property. Those who’d struggled to pay tariffs to the Crown had been evicted from their homes. The victims would know better than to complain.

Even the local bishop had not escaped Felipe’s greed. A ledger written in scratchy ink indicated that Felipe had taken fifty percent of the Church’s donations.

I withdrew and pushed the bookcase back.

Then I froze.

The door handle turned, and a young soldier entered. With my hands and feet firmly wedged in between the ceiling’s ornate molding, I held my breath.

Amused, I watched him stroll around the room checking for an intruder.

He never looked up.

Using the night for cover, I flew out of the room leaving him with a story to tell that no one would believe.

Making my way with blinding speed toward Sunaria, I felt reassured that this time she’d chosen a homey estate for us.

“But I’ve become rather accustomed to mausoleums,” I said to her later, giving her a wry smile.

“Those places are for emergencies only.” She flicked a stray hair away from her face.

Inside the modest house, I felt relaxed for the first time in weeks. This home, built on the outskirts of town, provided an austere air, the dark furniture and simple décor extraordinarily formal. No feminine touch here. I strolled through the lowerrooms getting my bearings, enjoying the opportunity to spy on another’s life. So much was revealed by the extreme tidiness. On the maple desk, the feather pen had been aligned perfectly with the paper, proving the owner’s penchant for orderliness, even the way the logs had been stacked neatly in the fireplace bordered on obsessive.