“Do it,” Lucian said. He lounged back into his black, ornate throne. His dark eyes glinted with anticipated pleasure. 

“No,” Marina answered. “I’m too tired. You’ve worn me out.” She stood, chained at her ankles, in front of him.  

Lucian let out an inhuman growl. “You will. I own you. You are mine.” 

“What if I refuse this time?” she asked.  

He tugged on the chain connected to her shackles and jerked her closer to his throne. 

“You understand what it signifies for me. You understand what I want,” he said with a commanding tone steeped in possession. 

Knowing he liked the challenge, Marina huffed. “What happens if I don’t?”   

Lucian laughed deep as his eyes glinted in the candlelight. He smirked, “Then you’ll be disciplined.” 

Marina recognized his cue to stop challenging him and obey. She got into position and settled into her role. “Like this?” Her voice was as smooth as velvet. 

“Yes. Just like that. Oooh, more.” Lucian stretched out, and his fingers curled in excitement. 

“Does this feel good?” Marina asked. 

“Exactly. Yes. Right there.” 

“What if I move my hands like this?” she asked. 

Lucian made a half-moan, half-growl noise. His fingers curled, holding on to the edge of the armrest of his throne. “Venus’s ass.” 

“What about this way? Or do you want it faster?” Her hands moved faster. 

“Yes. You’re mine,” he growled, his voice laced with pleasure. 

“What if I move like this?” her honey-smooth voice prodded. 

“Virgin tits!” Lucian exclaimed. 

“Oh? Do you like it being so wet?” she asked tenderly. The subtle jingle of the chains on her ankles shifted as she moved. 

“Minerva’s glorious hole!” Lucian moaned again, his toes curling unseen in his boots. “Do more, please,” he almost begged. Which was saying something, because Marina knew Lord Lucian Diaboli did not beg. Ever. 

“Look at the way it pulses. So huge; so powerful.”  

Drool leaked from the corners of his mouth. His feet danced as he tried to stay still. His breath hitched. “Give me more. Juno’s breasts, twist it,” he murmured, lost in the sea of pleasure. “No, make it dance.” 

“How about now?” she asked, her tone like silk. Lucian managed only noises. “Or what if I do this?” Encouraged by his state, Marina continued to play. “Do you like it if I move it this way? Or how big the pulse gets when I do this?”  Metal scraped the wooden floor as her movements flowed into a dance. 

“Yes. More. I want more,” he said. “I want to see it throb under your touch. Look how you move it.” 

“What if I stop?” She bobbed in a faint rhythm. A pulsing hum filled the air. 

“No! Whatever you do, don’t stop. I need more. I live for this.” His voice grew hoarse with want. 

“Yes, my Lord. I’ll keep it moving.” She shifted positions, causing the chains to whip against the wooden planks of the flooring. 

He moaned as he sank into his throne, kicked off his boots, and sat spread-eagle. “I am blessed with the pleasure.” His face flushed with passion. He slung his overcoat to the ground and untied the laces of his shirt, then lifted it off, leaving him bare-chested. “Please, by the grace of Juno’s ass, give me more. I need more. Faster, and harder.” 

“Are you sure, my Lord? You’re out of breath.” 

“I need to watch you.” He relaxed in his seat, his breath coming in deep, slow pants.  

“Can you feel it jump when my hands twitch?” she said. 

“Venus’s glory!” His hips jerked with the wave of sensation. 

“More? Tell me what you want,” she teased. She knew he had yet to reach his peak. She could sense it crackle in the air. 

“By Minerva’s mouth, more,” he pleaded. 

“As my Master wishes.” She got to her knees. Lucian moved his hips and his spread legs wide. 

*** 

Cassian and Darius fumbled through the passageway behind the guarded door. Frescos featured terrible scenes of fire and tortured people, with Lucian at the center, orchestrating the chaos beneath the epithets “King of All Beings” and “Lord of Orcus.” 

“Remind me not to hire his decorator,” Cassian whispered. 

“Aye.” Darius sounded disturbed but not surprised. 

Both men kept wary of guards as the ground sloped upwards. Armor echoed ahead. 

“Over there!” Cassian pointed to a corridor jutting off the main passageway. Darius nodded and headed to the opening. They ducked out of sight as the guards moved through the underpass, towards the wooden door at the end. 

 “Lord Lucian will double our share if we catch the rats,” the captain of the guards said. 

“May Lord Lucian’s glory reign!” the rest of the men grunted in agreement, marching after their captain. As they raced down the passageway, the sounds of metal armor and heavy boots faded.  

Cassian poked his head out to check the area. “Come on. Let’s go.” He motioned for Darius to follow.  

They followed the pathway the men had come from, and soon, the floor turned from dirt to stone. Roasted chicken, bread, and sulfur teased their noses. The sounds of kitchen wenches and serving maids shouting orders as pots and pans banged during the busy time. 

“We should disguise ourselves,” Darius suggested. Cassian nodded, and they both searched the shadows. Cassian found a laundry basket. It looked to him like kitchen linens, but Darius dug out two outfits and threw one at Cassian. 

“A serving wench dress?” Cassian hissed.  

Darius shrugged. “It’s what was there. Now put it on and hide your weapons. We’ve got to be convincing if we’re going to find Marina.” He shrugged into his own servant outfit, which was entirely male. The way his gun sat enlarged his groin area, but his sword hid expertly at his side. 

Cassian, however, struggled. He climbed into the clothes backwards and had his weapons sticking out.  

Darius sighed. “This isn’t something you’ve done before, is it?” It was a rhetorical question. He straightened the dress and tied the bonnet over Cassian’s head, covering his hair. Then he shifted Cassian’s weapons, but the gun left a noticeable bump in the form–fitting dress. 

“Orcus’s beasts, you need tits!” Darius hissed.  

Cassian looked at Darius with wide eyes. “What? This is enough, mate.”  

Darius shook his head. “We’ve got to be convincing.” He snatched two melons from a nearby basket and stuffed them down the bodice.  

Just as he was adjusting them, another servant passed by. “Oy! Keep that in the rooms or Lord Lucian’ll punish you both,” he warned them.  

“Oh!” Cassian blushed deep red and put on a falsetto that was completely unconvincing.  

Darius just gave a cocky grin. “Will do, mate. Thanks for the advice, but me girl here is completely insatiable. You know how women get, eh?”  

Cassian was ready to murder him, but the servant replied with a knowing wink before shuffling off to his duties. 

Darius glared at him. “If you don’t at least try to pretend to be a girl, we’ll be captured and quartered!” Cassian just scowled. 

They followed a few of the maids through parts of the fortress, careful to stay in the shadows so as not to draw attention. Occasionally, they ran into other servants and had to pretend to know what they were doing. A few looked at the strange lump on Cassian’s side and gave them a look of pity like she’d been cursed or worse. Darius led them toward the throne room. 

Soon enough, they came to a heavy wooden door, decorated with a golden coat of arms and painted crests, guarded on either side by a sentry. 

“Excuse us. Our Lord wanted us to clean the throne room,” Cassian said, attempting femininity but unable to shed his deeper, male register.  

The guard raised an eyebrow.  

Darius swooped in. “Forgive her, good sir. She has a cold.” 

“I don’t remember seeing you two here. Are you new?” the other guard asked suspiciously. 

“Oh yes. I’m Darian, and this is my wife, Cassie,” Darius lied through his teeth.  

Cassian stiffened at the mention of wife, but luckily the guards looked at each other and shrugged. 

Sounds came through the door, interrupting them. 

“My Lord, almost there,” Marina’s purring voice drifted through the door. “Tell me what you need from me.” 

Cassian saw red.  

Darius put a hand on Cassian’s shoulder, like a loving husband calming his wife, but it was meant to hold him in place. “Maybe we should come back after his Lordship is done?” he said pointedly. 

Editor: Shannon Hensley