by L A Warren
Elise took a step back. Gregor pulled her against him, sheltering her from the High Tender.
“I have achieved results.” Gregor’s voice remained calm and soft, but Elise detected an edge to it.
“Bah!” The High Tender scoffed. “What results would those be? To be the laughing stock of the empire? An Emperor with a WOR out of control? A WOR who beat you!”
“You mean of course, this WOR who is with me, in my quarters, prepared for the Binding Rite? My WOR who is willing to complete the rite? I’m not dragging her in here kicking and screaming. I won’t have to tie her down like some of the other vlor’lords will need to do. She accepts the Binding. Is this the WOR we are talking about? Or are you speaking of another?” Gregor’s tone made Elise wince.
It never occurred to her to kick and scream.
“That’s irrelevant! I’ll show her what it means to serve her masters,” The High Tender moved forward and grabbed Elise’s arm.
She yelped as he crushed her flesh.
“Let go, Lord vlor’Vardhal.” The icy calmness of Gregor’s tone made Elise flinch. She couldn’t see his face, but knew what she would find there. His eyes would flash silver and be as sharp as daggers.
High Tender Marcus yanked on her arm and she cried out again in pain. He ripped her from Gregor and pulled her to him. In a smooth practiced move, he pressed the braklav to her chin.
Her head exploded in a firestorm of light and agony. Alex struggled to maintain her grip on the fragile link, but then the pain vanished between one moment and the next as her world spun.
Gregor wrapped his hands around the High Tender’s neck.
She found herself on the floor, gasping for breath.
The veins on the High Tender’s neck bulged and his face turned several shades of red and purple.
Elise put her hands to her head as a sharp pain thrust through her head. It wasn’t the braklav. Alex had forced her into the link. The circle was now complete.
Malice roared in triumph as the High Tender gurgled.
Gregor enunciated each of his words. “Lord vlor’Vardhal, do not touch my property again unless I have given permission.” He shook the High Tender. “I am her master, not you. Understood?”
Rage tumbled in the High Tender’s expression. On his normally cool and dispassionate face, that emotion seemed entirely foreign and terrifying. He clutched at Gregor’s strong fingers wrapped around his throat. Gregor stared the man down, but did not release his grip. He pushed the High Tender back a step.
High Tender Marcus croaked out his words. “She is my responsibility, Sire. Mine! I will have her punished.”
“No, Lord vlor’Vardhal. She is yours no longer.”
“She has flaunted her defiance for the last time,” the High Tender said with a roar. “I must administer correction. She has made a laughing stock of you, of the vlor’, of the Tender Conclave and all of Vendel.” High Tender Marcus turned a threatening eye to Elise. “S’Lissa, you will tell me how you managed this charade and who helped.” His face turned scarlet. “To stand on the podium at the jump-jet presentations and see the Emperor’s s’vlor mocking him in front of the people . . .” His words trailed off and the braklav became a blur as it spun in the air. “I can only imagine what was going through his mind.”
Gregor sniffed. “I was proud, High Tender.”
Elise glanced up in surprise.
The High Tender glared back and sputtered, lost for words.
“I knew what she was up to. I’ve known for quite some time, and I allowed it to proceed.”
The High Tender’s jaw dropped and he sputtered some more. He finally found his words. “You knew! You let this behavior continue?”
“Yes.” Gregor glanced down and smiled. “I, Emperor Gregor Ulysses vlor’Malita, made that decision all on my own. I found it fascinating to see what she would be capable of accomplishing.”
Elise recovered from her fright. A cool detached calm returned. He had only wanted to see what his pet could do when given the lead? It was always about ownership and property rights with Vendel males. She had been a fool to think otherwise.
Let them fight all night if that’s what it took. She was filthy and had spent one hour too many in her flightsuit. She stood on steady legs and headed off to Gregor’s bedchamber.
The High Tender growled. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”
Elise unzipped the flightsuit. Both men’s eyes followed the path of the zipper as it revealed the soft flesh beneath. “I’m going to take a shower. After you’re done fighting over me, the winner can come collect me.” She glanced between the two men. Her eyes flicked to the silver rod. “Either to apply the braklav or . . . for other more pleasurable pursuits.” Her gaze lifted and captured Gregor’s shocked expression. His lips parted in surprise.
“You dare speak to me in that tone?” the High Tender took a step toward her.
Gregor reached out and gripped the High Tender’s bicep. He shook his head. The message was clear.
Elise felt for the link formed by Alex. It was solid and complete, and to Alex’s credit had been completely tied off.
Nice, Alex.
Let’s hope it works. Alex crossed their fingers. The others held their breath.
Elise turned her back to Gregor and the High Tender and walked away. At the door to Gregor’s bedchamber she said, “I believe that sim you were interested in involved a massage and a waterfall. I also remember a promise you made about our next shower together. Perhaps you should finish your tug-o-war with the High Tender before I finish the shower.”
His jaw gaped as his eyes widened in surprise. Elise dropped the flightsuit near the door of his bedroom. She walked naked into his private chambers while both men looked on. Certain of the completely disparate thoughts going on in their minds, she felt freer than she had in a very long time.
She didn’t hear what words the two men shared. She didn’t care. One of them would win. Either way—she or Shriek—would do their part.
Chapter Thirteen
Elise turned on the hot water and gave a sigh as she stepped beneath the steady stream. Dirt and sweat washed away as the water sluiced over her body. Steam billowed everywhere, blanketing the bathroom in a fog of possibility. Her muscles relaxed and her stomach returned to its proper place in her belly.
Alex showed her the fully formed link. Do you think it will work, sister?
You pulled in some of the imaginary dimensions, Elise said with surprise. What made you think of that?
I don’t know what to expect from the Binding, so I figured I had to tie this thing off. When you sleep, we all sleep, and I didn’t want the link to fail.
Elise tilted her head back and wet her hair. Do you honestly believe I’ll be getting any sleep tonight?
Just being cautious. Besides, when you have a chance, you need to take a look at what I’ve done, or rather, what the link has done for us.
What do you mean? Elise paused.
Only that these Vendel have no idea what they’ve created. Alex retreated.
Elise opened her eyes, feeling the loss of her silent sister. It didn’t take long to figure out why Alex had left. Gregor stood in the doorway of the bathroom, his figure shrouded in the thickening steam.
“Did you settle things with the High Tender then?”
He laughed. “Yes, luv.”
“Ah,” she said.
He unzipped his flightsuit. “You made him mad.”
“Well, he’ll have his turn soon enough.”
“No, he won’t.” Gregor stepped close and peeled back the sleeves of the suit.
Her brows lifted and she bit her lower lip. She was reminded of The Spot and that silly competition back on Earth when she and Alice had been judges. Back then, they’d had no worries and a bright future ahead of them. How easily things changed.
As Gregor pulled the suit to his waist, there was no doubt in her mind that had he been in that nightclub she would have picked him as the winner
to the chest and buns competitions.
“I seem to remember you do a remarkable job washing hair,” she said.
“You remember that, do you?”
“Not fully, I was a little out of my mind at the time, but pieces of the memory survive. You’re invited to remind me.”
His flightsuit dropped to the floor in a puddle of red fabric.
Dear God, what have I gotten myself into?
She gazed at the masculine perfection that was Gregor. He had no idea what he was in stepping into, and was a fool if he thought he would be in control. She intended to take what pleasure she could.
“Your mood has changed, opés.”
“Anger has no place in this. I should thank you, I suppose, for making this easier to bear. I’ve decided to put aside my feelings toward you in private. If this is my future, and we are to be together, it might be easier not to fight in here.”
“This should be a pleasurable experience, Elise, not a chore.” He traced the angle of her jaw. The gesture seemed tender, almost genuine.
For a moment, she almost believed him.
A deep sigh escaped his lips and she watched as he closed his lids. His arm dropped and he stepped away from her. “I don’t want to force you.”
Her brows furrowed, not understanding, as he moved even further away. “What?”
“I can force the Binding and make you mine, but that’s not what I want. It’s not what I feel.” His gaze cast downward as he brought a hand over his heart. “You see me as a monster, a man full of evil, but I’m merely a man forced to make impossible choices. I wish you could understand and accept that.” His gaze skittered away.
She didn’t understand what had happened to her arrogant and calculating v’lor lord.
“You killed my family, Gregor. My friends, and billions of my people, are dead because of you. What do you expect? And the women brought on board? You forced us into obedience with the WOR-guards and their horrible whipsticks. When that failed, the Tenders had their braklavs.” She shrugged. “I feel what I feel.”
“I know you think you must hate me, but there’s a part of you that feels otherwise.” His head shot up. “I know you feel it.”
“What I feel is some twisted combination of Vendel biotech brought on by that stupid perfume you gave me at the Banquet. I’ve come to accept that I don’t control my body’s reactions around you.”
“There’s more to this than the callidor.” He rushed toward her. Desperation thrummed through his body and transferred into hers. Like a bolt of lightning they connected as power surged between them. Lust and desire stirred in her belly, making her gasp.
“I won’t apologize for what happened, because it was necessary.”
She flinched at his words, because they stung and trivialized the deaths of everyone she had ever loved.
He continued, his grip on her hands tightening. “That is my burden to bear. Those deaths are on my shoulders. My oath is to protect and serve—all of humanity. Certain decisions are required of me which are difficult. No one should have been forced to make them, but I did. I had to if we’re to survive. I had no choice in the matter. I believe you understand what that means. You know the choices forced upon me. Given an alternative, I would have wished we met under different circumstances.”
She wanted to pull away from him, but found herself drawn to the pain laced in his words. He spoke of the deaths of billions as if they were mere tallies in a ledger book, but his voice . . . oh his voice told a different story. He grieved. It was the first time she heard him express remorse about what he had done.
He pulled her close. Their bodies touched. His chest brushed her nipples. His voice dropped to a whisper. “That you lost so much was unavoidable, but it was necessary. Deep down you must understand. You know why it was required.”
He held her while closing the distance between them. His head dropped until his cheek rested beside hers and his mouth lay beside her ear. “And you also know I wouldn’t hesitate to make the same decision again. If that makes me a monster, then so be it. That it was your planet is irrelevant. It was the price of survival. You know this, and you will forgive me given time. You just haven’t accepted it yet.”
His lips brushed the corner of her earlobe, sending a sharp thrill of pleasure shooting down her neck. A moan escaped her and she arched her neck, opening herself for him. He was impossible to resist. Whether it was the callidor or not, she wanted him.
Gregor nuzzled the soft tissues of her neck. “You must forgive me, Elise. What I have done since bringing you on board has hurt you, and for that I’m sorry. High Tender Marcus will never touch you again with the braklav.” He kissed the soft spot at the angle of her neck and shoulder. “It’s why I let you fly. It was the one thing I could give that didn’t cause you pain, and I desperately needed to give you something, because I knew what I would have to take.”
“Gregor, please.” She tried to release his grip on her hands, but he refused to let her go.
His kisses moved to the angle of her shoulder and then his head lifted and she met the full intensity of his gaze. She expected desire to be reflected in his expression, and there was certainly plenty of that. The steam billowing around them couldn’t dispel the heady scent of musk and spice emanating from the man. What caught her by surprise was the vulnerability he expressed and the raw honesty in his eyes.
In that moment, he stole her breath and took her heart. She felt herself molding her body against his, folding her softness against his strength. Like a key and a lock, she couldn’t avoid the truth, and whether she liked him or not, they shared a chemistry she couldn’t deny.
“I’m tired of fighting.” She vented a deep sigh, because it was the truth. “I just want it all to end.”
He wrapped his hands behind her back, carrying her captive hands with his. That annoying and wonderfully handsome smirk returned. With a chuckle he brushed his lips against hers, denying her the kiss she wanted. “Then, let’s speak of pleasure. Tell me how does that shower sim start?”
She couldn’t help but laugh as he diffused the tension with a simple question. “Oh, no,” she said as she took control. “Wash my hair first, then I’ll show you.”
He sighed. “My opés,” he kissed her deeply. “Must I teach you to obey?”
She returned his kiss, eagerly and a bit teasingly, then pushed him away. She turned and handed him the soap. “My hair, and then the rest can follow.”
A shocked expression flashed across his face. His eyes narrowed and then he laughed. “So be it.”
Gregor worked the lather into her hair and washed the rest of her body. For the first time, his hands explored and roamed freely. When he hesitated, she guided him with absolute assurance.
Chapter Fourteen
The rest of the night blurred as Gregor unleashed his restraint. When he let go and gave in fully to his need, she took back control. The night dissolved in an endless sea of ecstasy. A firestorm erupted between them, sweeping her up and carrying her away with his desire, but this had become her battle, and it was time to win.
As his passion cooled from a wild, heated urgency to a slow and deliberate need, Elise turned the tables on him and the victory became hers. She shaped his responses and drove his desires until he begged for release. There was nothing sedate to his lovemaking, and while he confused her actions as eagerness, Elise orchestrated a carefully devised conquest.
Perhaps Gregor had assumed too much. She was no Vendel woman whose entire experience with physical intimacy was at the end of a snarking pad. She had practical experience in seduction and took full advantage of the education she’d accumulated back on Earth.
The number of times they came together blurred as the night drew on. The integrity of her link remained throughout the night. She checked it often. Solid as steel, flexible as a whipcord, it endured the onslaught of Gregor’s DNA.
The time came when sleep finally took hold of them both, and she drifted peacefully to sleep in his arms.
/> Elise woke in the crook of his arm. The bedcovers lay at the foot of the bed, long since discarded during their intimate activities. Although asleep, Gregor held her possessively and breathed peacefully in his sleep. Her head rested on his chest and she took a moment to explore his body anew. She traced the contours of his chest and then traced a line down and around his navel. She outlined each of his hardened abdominal muscles with the tip of her finger before moving lower down.
“Are you still hungry, luv?” Gregor grabbed her hand and halted her exploration. He chuckled and kissed the top of her head.
“I thought you were asleep.” She flattened her hand on the smooth expanse of his lower abdomen.
“I was, but your touch is electric and could pull me out of a coma. Dear Elise, I’m tired.”
“You’re saying no?” She draped her leg over his hips.
He moaned and pulled her leg to the side. She took the opportunity to slip her hand lower still. He claimed to be tired, but his body responded to her touch.
“Does the word ‘no’ mean nothing to you?” He vented a throaty chuckle of surprise.
“Not when I’m . . . what did you say . . . hungry?”
“You’re kidding,” he said in shock.
Elise leaned up on her elbow and moved to sit on top of him. “Not when you’re awake and, it would seem, interested? Do you remember that second sim I showed you?”
“Absolutely.” He rewarded that comment with a low, lusty chuckle.
She arched a brow. Some while later, she left him gasping, and when she attempted to interest him in more, he begged off.
“I’m exhausted, luv. Allow a man to rest.”
“Do you mind if I take a shower?”
“When’s the last time you slept?” He pulled her to him and kissed her lightly on the lips.
“I’m not tired.” This statement, oddly, rang true.
She’d been up for close to two days straight, yet despite that, felt refreshed, well rested, and very much awake. Is this a side effect of the link?
“Gods, luv. You’ve worn me out. Go ahead, but don’t leave our apartments. No more unauthorized exploits, opés. Those days are behind you.”