Page 43 of Controlled
“No, sir.” Her behind still felt hot, the skin tight from his belt. She’d argued about not being able to visit Raina during breakfast, argued quite passionately. The auction had been postponed, but Raina was still in detention and Flora wanted to find out what was going on. She ignored his warning to stop and ended up bent over the table with her dress flipped up. He took off his belt and spanked her until her need for him made her squirm. Then he finished eating while she stood there holding up her dress with one hand and rubbing her clit with the other. He let her come once he’d finished his breakfast, but what she’d really wanted was his cock buried deep inside her.
“Be a good girl and I’ll give you a present,” Draven offered as his hand returned to the nape of her neck.
She looked at him in silent concern. Yesterday they had walked into the training room and found one of the triads having sex right out in the open. The other triads had gathered around to watch the spectacle. The conduit was naked, her bottom reddened, her face wet with tears. One of her mates held her arms behind her back while he fucked into her fast and hard. Flora hadn’t looked closely enough to see which hole he was punishing, but it had clearly been discipline. Her other mate enjoyed her mouth, his long cock sliding well into her throat with each demanding stroke. She was being used, humiliated, while the other triads watched.
“You can sense how much I want you, but please don’t take me here in the training room.” She lowered her gaze submissively. “I’ll do better. I promise.”
Draven squeezed her neck, prompting her to look at him again. “You are doing very well, Flora. We are thrilled with your progress. I meant it literally. Noratu and I have a surprise for you once we’ve completed our exercises.”
Noratu pulled her snugly against his side and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “There are many ways to discipline a female. We will always choose the means most suitable for you.”
“Or you can just behave appropriately for the rest of your life and we will never need to correct you,” Draven suggested with a grin. “The choice is always yours.”
They all knew the chances of that happening were infinitesimal. She was too spirited and too stubborn.
“Finesse,” she reminded. “It’s time to flex your muscles, Mr. Controller.”
Draven pressed in against her other side, but his hand dropped to her bottom. He squeezed one tender cheek and then the other. “Open and still. Let us flow through you.”
The level of control Draven needed required her to minimize her mental shields. It left her vulnerable, helpless. But Noratu protected her, protected Draven too. They were a team, three equal parts, each with a unique function. She opened her mind, yielding to her mates, trusting them to keep her safe.
Her skin prickled and her senses hummed as mystic energy flowed into her body. Noratu wove an intricate shield around all three of them. He sheltered not only their minds, but their bodies. Draven skillfully formed the molecules into a narrow, concentrated stream. He lifted her arm and rotated her wrist until her hand was palm out. The energy exited, arcing across the room to ignite the target. Rather than explode in a burst of destruction, the flames built gradually, consuming the target without harming the area around it.
“Excellent,” Draven whispered, but did not release his hold on her mind or her arm. “Flow with me, love. Sense what I’m about to do.”
She focused on Draven, trusting Noratu to keep her safe. Draven moved through her mind, channeling Noratu’s energy, shaping it into various weapons. She followed his lead, gradually learning to anticipate his moves. It took several hours, but finally all three of them flowed together as one.
They took a short break and ate a hearty lunch to refuel their bodies. “Have you ever heard of a power exchange?” Noratu asked as they finished eating.
Flora nodded. “My grandmother mentioned it when I confronted her about my Torretian energy.” He seemed surprised by her answer, so she expounded, “Iris said that Mom could transform water into fire. Apparently, it’s not a common ability.”
“That’s an understatement,” Draven stressed. “According to my research, there have only been eleven conduits capable of power exchange in the history of the Citadel. Two of the eleven were Iris’ daughters.”
“One of my aunts has this ability?”
“I sent her a comm request, but she didn’t respond,” Noratu sounded annoyed as well as disappointed.
“Nadis sent us in-depth information on the gift,” Draven told her. “It included some exercises designed to develop the ability. We would like you to try. There is no pressure. We are just curious.”
“I’m curious too. Let’s go for it.”
They returned to the training room and worked their way through the three exercises. The first involved visualization and concentration. The second added various forms of stimulation, some arousing, others painful. The third exercise was a long, involved ritual, complete with awkward poses and chanting.
“That was just stupid,” she concluded as they finished the ritual. “The only exercise that makes sense to me is the first one. Let me practice on my own. I’ll develop a more detailed visualization, maybe work with Nadis if she has time.”
Draven nodded. “Don’t get discouraged if it doesn’t happen. As I said, there is no pressure. This ability is extremely rare.”
They shifted back to triad mode and continued practicing for another two hours. Control was the name of the game. Their raw power was undeniable, so they focused on precision and building stamina.
“Can she manifest water?”
The deep voice was unfamiliar and jarred Flora out of the meld. She gasped and whipped her head around to see who had spoken. How had this male known she had Torretian blood? Her mates had warned her not to mention it to anyone.
The speaker was tall and muscular, clearly a controller. His dark hair fell in waves to well past his shoulders and his pale skin had a faint pearlescent quality in the light of the training room. Angular features were dominated by vivid gold eyes.
“We have been focused on fire, sir,” Draven told the stranger.
There was only one person Draven called ‘sir.’ This had to be Zevon Raydo, president of the Citadel.