"How will you know I'm not working against you?" she asked, looking at him coolly. All traces of tears were gone now.
"Because 25,000 of your Guild sisters will be counting on you to bring some kind of meaning to their deaths," he said. "Even if you betrayed me, I know you wouldn't betray them. Do we have a deal?"
"Yes," she replied. "We have a deal."
"Good," he said. He pressed a small button against the wall, and spoke with a commanding voice,
"Please send us a tray of fruits, cheeses and wines."
"Yes, Your Grace," a disembodied voice replied. Drake turned back to her.
"In order for us to speak privately, I had to arrange for a 'random' power failure that cut off Imperial surveillance of this room. Ordering the food was the signal to restore the power, so they won't get suspicious and realize I know about their bugs. We have about three minutes until the power disruption ends," he added. "I'd like for them to think we've been doing things other than talking this entire time."
He gestured toward the bed, and she nodded, walking toward it quickly while shrugging out of her gown. She jumped up the three steps surrounding the high, canopied platform seemingly without a thought for her nudity, but Drake was struck silent by the sight of her. She was exquisite, perfect. Her soft, round butt swayed as she walked away from him. Her long, blonde hair hung to her waist in perfect ringlets. How did she do that, keep it so perfect even after all they'd done earlier?
"Drake, are you coming?" she asked, looking back to him with concern on her face. "We don't have much time."
He couldn't help it, he burst out laughing. The most beautiful woman he'd ever met was on his bed, demanding that he join her, and there wasn't even a hint of sexuality in her movements. It was just too funny.
She stared at him, confused. "What?" she asked.
"Nothing," he replied, shaking his head. "It's not important."
He walked slowly toward her. She had turned around on the bed, and he could just see her pink nipples peeking out through the curtain of her hair. He could feel himself hardening as he moved closer, his erect cock swaying and his balls tightening up in anticipation.
She was smiling now, leaning back on her elbows and her legs spread out wide before her. Her cunt was open and waiting for him.
"Come here," she whispered. "You know, before I never even got the chance to touch you, Drake, but if you're going to be taking me on as your mistress than I think you should probably get a taste of what I bring to the table. I may be retired, but I was very good at my job."
He climbed up onto the bed, looming over her. She reached down with one hand and firmly grabbed his erection, holding it just a little too tightly for comfort.
"I'm in this now," she whispered, her face all innocence. "But don't forget that you're in it with me.
Screw me or my Guild over and I'll take you with me." She twisted him ever so lightly, for emphasis.
He froze, startled.
"I won't," he whispered, his mouth coming down over hers in a gentle kiss. She kept her hold on him, but loosened her fingers, sliding them up and down his hard length. He shuddered, sensation running from his center up his spine. She pulled her mouth away from his, and looked up at him.
"We're out of time," he said. "We've got to make this look good."
"That won't be a hardship," she replied softly. "Now, get on your back. I plan to charge you a great deal of money to be your mistress. I'd better start earning it."
He rolled onto his back, watching her as she moved to straddle him. She slowly lowered herself until he could feel her hot, moist cunt brush against him. His hips pushed up against her, trying to get in, but she pulled away.
"Oh, no," she said. "That's far too easy, Drake. Like I said, I want to earn my money."
She leaned over him, rubbing her breasts against his chest sensuously. Her nipples were tight, hard pebbles against him, and he groaned in pleasure. Then she kissed him, her lips light and moist against his.
She teased him, nipping and lapping at him, then dropping little kisses along his jaw and neck. Her mouth worked its way lower, trailing fire along his chest. Lower and lower she moved, and then one hand was gripping the length of his cock. Her lips were almost there, and she felt his stomach muscles clench in anticipation.
She looked up at him through her veil of hair, her eyes filled with a look of power that said he might be ruler of the world, but for that moment she was his ruler. He closed his eyes and let his head fall back, content to be under her control for now.
Her tongue slipped out, tracing the little ridge that ringed the head of his cock. He shivered, quivering at her touch. She grasped him firmly in her hand, then pulled down on his skin. He felt sensitive, exposed. Then her tongue touched him again, this time right above her hand. She trailed it up along the underside of his erection and wiggled it against him as she reached the little notch below the head. His hips thrust up at her once, involuntarily. She laughed throatily, then her mouth engulfed him fully, sucking him into its warms depths.
She slipped down on him, sucking him in hard and then pulling back, her lips trailing over him. Her head moved down again, hot against him. She moaned, unable to control herself. Up and down she went, moving faster and faster.
The sensations built in him. He was so sensitive that the motions of her lips and tongue against him were almost painful. He was getting closer, his breath came faster and his heart pounded in his chest.
Her mouth pulled away from him, and she was sitting up, giving him that smile again. Then she was scooting up his body, her hair sending shivers through him as it trailed along his skin. She raised her hips and slid down over him; he grunted in reaction to her movement. She was a hot, tight glove enclosing him, squeezing him. Her hands were braced against his chest as she twisted her body against his, massaging him with her interior muscles. Then she froze, and he heard an embarrassed cough. She sat up, still impaled on his length.
Drake leaned up on his elbows and looked to see who had entered.
His spymaster was standing there, wearing the uniform of a servant and holding a heavily laden tray.
The man looked up and down her body with interest.
"You requested food, Your Grace," the man said in dulcet tones. "Shall I put the tray on the table?"
"Yes," Drake said, his voice harsh. The witch had started squeezing him again as she sat their, her movements completely invisible to their audience. "On the table, that will be all," he gasped out.
The man gave him a sardonic look, then turned to set down the tray. He gave them a curt bow, then turned to leave the room. Drake let himself fall back down on the bed, straining as she continued working him deep inside. The door closed with a click, and she gave a tinkling laugh.
"What's the matter, Drake?" she asked, grinning down at him.
"I'll show you," he grunted, trying not to grin back at her. Moving quickly, he rolled her under him, thrusting deeply into her. She moaned, twisting against him as she brought her legs up and around to powerfully clasp his hips. Her hands reached down to his butt, digging into each cheek as she pulled him down into her. He drove down into her again and again, pushing as deeply as he could. He wanted to bury himself in her, to push so deeply into her body that the feel of him was imbedded in her. He realized he was trying to brand her, that he felt possessive of her.
She was whimpering now, and she bucked against him as he pressed her harder down into the bed.
Her fingers dug deeply into him, raking up his back, leaving a trail of fire in his skin. She was marking him, he realized. The pain of her touch only made him more excited, more eager to possess her. She was wild, and she was his. But she wouldn't give in easily.