Unleashed by the Defender (Brides of the Kindred #25) - Evangeline Anderson Page 0,59

willpower to hold it back, J’are thought grimly. It was a contest of wills—one he had better not lose.

If he did, it would cost him his life.

Thirty

“Welcome, Mistress Williams—your name is on the list.” The servant dressed in lemon yellow livery nodded at Imani graciously. “If you’d like to step to the back of the line and wait your turn to be announced, please?”

He ushered her and J’are to the end of a short line of five or six other Mistresses who were waiting with their bodyslaves to be called up and announced to the party.

“Oh, thank you.” Imani nodded at him and smiled. “Um, if you’ll forgive me, I haven’t been to one of Lady Bittlebum’s parties before. What exactly do we do when we’re announced?” she asked before the servant could turn away.

“Oh, it’s the usual routine, Mistress,” the servant said casually. “Just step up on the stage, allow your bodyslave to kiss your panties, and then you can descend and mingle with the other guests.” He smiled at her. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I see more guests arriving.” And he hurried away.

“Let my bodyslave…” Imani trailed off, feeling her cheeks get hot.

“That’s standard here on Yonnie Six when you’re being introduced at a party,” J’are told her. He was standing beside her, in his crotchless black leather trousers and the pain collar and leash Imani had to make him wear in public, though she hated to. “Don’t let it bother you,” he added.

“Bother me? I was more worried about it, um, bothering you.” Imani’s cheeks got even hotter. “I mean…will you be okay with this?”

“Will my feral side be all right, do you mean?” he growled softly. In the dimly lighted hallway, his pale green eyes seemed to glow with a wild, animal light.

“Well, yes.” Imani cleared her throat. “I mean after what happened at the spa—”

“Don’t worry, Mistress,” he growled. “I have more self-control than to go down on you in public in front of a crowd. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay, all right.” Imani nodded quickly as the line moved forward. “Then I’ll be fine too.”

“Good.” J’are took a deep breath and tugged at his pain collar with one finger, like a man tugging on a tight shirt collar. “Then we’ll both be fine,” he said, but his voice came out more than half growl.

Oh dear…Imani bit her lip. Though he wouldn’t admit it, holding back his feral side was really taking a toll on the big Nightwalker—she could tell. They needed to get in and out of this party as soon as possible. Imani just hoped Judge Thoughtgood was already here so they could make a good impression and then leave.

At last she heard her name being called.

“Mistress Williams,” another servant, also dressed in lemon-yellow livery announced.

Quickly, Imani took her place on the small stage overlooking a grand ballroom. It was filled with other Mistresses, all with one or more bodyslaves, laughing, talking and mingling as they drank expensive-looking drinks that fizzed and smoked and came in every conceivable color.

“Mistress Williams,” the servant said again, loudly, and J’are dropped to his knees before her, as though on cue. Looking up at her, he placed his hands on her hips and murmured,

“Mistress, I make my obeisance to you.”

Then he pressed his lips to her panties and performed a deep, hot kiss that sent helpless shivers all the way down Imani’s spine. She couldn’t help remembering the way he had tasted her so gently and so thoroughly at the spa…the way he had spread her legs wide and pressed his tongue deep inside her and then lapped her sensitive aching clit…

And then the moment was over and J’are was pulling away.

“Mistress,” he growled, looking up at her again and Imani saw that his eyes were definitely glowing. “I need to taste you again.”

“J’are,” she whispered, her heart thumping as she ran a hand over his short, spiky hair. “You know we can’t—especially not here.”

“Later then,” he growled. “Just once more before we part. Let me lap your sweet pussy and feel you coming all over my face—please.”

“All…all right,” Imani agreed breathlessly, though she knew she shouldn’t agree to any such thing. “But for now, let’s go down to the party.”

“All right.” He rose smoothly and followed her down the short flight of steps into the crowd of drunk, laughing Mistresses.

“Let’s mingle for a minute,” Imani whispered to him. “But if you see Judge Thoughtgood, let me know.”

“She’s right over there.” With his superior height, J’are could, of