SurrendersMischief

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by Alvania Scarborough


  Still, he had not punished her as severely as he should have. Instead of taking her into the garden, he’d settled for cuffing her to his bed. And stopped after a mere four hours. Yeah, he could see why his men thought he was going soft.

  The mutters from his warriors were fast turning to rumbles. He was going to have to quell the unrest and quick or there would be revolt.

  A hard rap on the door jerked him from his thoughts. “Enter.”

  Gaith, his first-in-command, strode in, shutting the door behind him.

  Darias sighed. From the look on Gaith’s face, Darias was certain the other man was about to confront him regarding Riana.

  “You’ve got to do something about her,” Gaith said bluntly.

  He hated when he was right. “Not you too.” Darias stifled a groan and leaned back in his chair, regarding his friend.

  “She’s inciting Bryta to rebellion. I had to punish Bryta in the garden last night.” Gaith stalked across the room and came to a halt next to Darias’ desk. He ran his hand through his short brown hair. “Bryta is an obedient woman. She’d never think of defying me if it wasn’t for your slave.”

  His brow rose. “What did Bryta do?” The garden? As far as he knew, Gaith’s punishments had always been rather mild. The other warriors occasionally teased his friend about his partiality toward his woman.

  Gaith looked away, a deep flush creeping up his cheeks. “She informed me in the Great Hall, in a loud and clear voice no less, that I was wrong not to listen to her advice. She went on to say my opinions on a woman’s proper place were backward and asinine.”

  “And how is this my slave’s fault?” But Darias already knew. He’d been given the same pithy lecture several times. Last night only the latest. He could practically hear her instructing Bryta in her offworlder ways.

  “None of this discord between me and Bryta occurred until after you brought her here. And I’ve heard several of the other warriors make similar complaints. She’s disruptive, Darias.” Gaith thrust his jaw out. “You’ve got to bring her in line before she causes serious problems. You’ve got to control her.”

  The door to the office burst open. Riana stormed in, looking as if she wanted to kill someone. Her target became clear when her furious gaze settled on Gaith.

  “How dare you do that to Bryta?” She planted her hands on her hips, her eyes snapping with green fire.

  Darias received the distinct impression it was so she wouldn’t strangle his first-in-command.

  “You humiliated her. Have you no feelings?”

  Gaith stood there, his face dark with anger.

  Darias placed a restraining hand on Gaith’s arm before his friend did something that would require his vengeance. “Be quiet, Riana.”

  Riana turned on Darias at his quiet command. Even the tips of her hair quivered with her outrage. “As for you, how can you allow this? I knew you were a barbarian that first night, but I didn’t realize you could be this cruel.”

  “Leave us,” he directed to Gaith.

  The warrior gave one short nod and turned on his heel and left.

  “Well?” she demanded.

  “I’ve been too lenient with you.”

  “Hah! You call forcing me to wear these too lenient?” She swept her hand down, indicating the open leather brassiere, worn over a spidersilk blouse that lifted and separated her breasts. “And these?” She tugged at her belled trousers, the open girdle riding low on her hips, cupping her intimately before trailing between her legs, accentuating the rounded curves of her buttocks.

  He frowned as he couldn’t help but notice the defined outline of her nipples beneath the spidersilk.

  She glowered at him. “If that wasn’t bad enough, you expect me to have no opinion.”

  “You have no opinion. You are a slave.”

  Her eyes sparked with rage.

  A rage that threatened to burn him. Darias shifted his legs under the desk as desire made his breeches too tight.

  “A woman’s place is not to say anything but to accept and learn from her transgressions,” she quoted, her voice tight. “I know, I know. You’ve tried to get me to accept that drivel before.”

  Darias shoved to his feet. He planted his hands on the desk.

  She tossed her head, jolting her hair free of its confining tie.

  For a moment, he was distracted by the sight of her burnished copper hair. He ached to bury his hands in the waterfall of curls, letting it slide over his body. He’d bet his contract with the builders’ guild it was softer than the finest spidersilk.

  And that he wanted to so much was exactly why he hadn’t touched it—or her—outside of punishment. He shoved aside that insane momentary lapse in the cell.

  Darias fought the aching need with anger. “Take care, Riana, not to push me too far. Until now, I’ve tolerated many of your infractions.”

  “‘Tolerated many of my infractions’? Is that what you tell yourself, my lord? Is that how you appease your conscience? The truth is you punish me for the slightest reason and then disappear. Do you do that so you don’t have to face me? Do you fear having to look into my eyes and admit you wronged me?” She jutted her chin out and waited. When he didn’t say anything, she circled the desk and jabbed him in the chest with one finger.

  I do it so I’m not tempted to take you to my bed and make love to you until we both forget our positions.

  The admission was like a shock of icy water over Darias. Instinctively, he sought to deny it, to make excuses, but he couldn’t lie to himself. He never had before, and he wouldn’t start now.

  The truth was he made himself stay from her because he was afraid she’d make him throw tradition to the wind and make love to her in ways that were forbidden. The only safe way to feel her soft skin against his was during punishment. It was also the reason he left afterward, he was weakest then. Riana was bright. Once she figured it out, she’d seize the chance to use his desire against him.

  He grabbed her wrist and moved her hand away from his chest. His men were right. She had too much power over him. If he let her, she would make him, in fact, soft. These were perilous times, even a perceived weakness could be dangerous.

  To him…and to Nexar.

  “Go to our garden and await me there.”

  Pure fury flashed in her eyes before she shuttered her gaze. “I thought you were many things, my lord, but I never took you for a coward.” Her spine straight, her head held high, she turned and left the office, slamming the door behind her with a force that made the solid planks shudder on their hinges.

  His resolve hardened. It was time Riana accepted her place in Nexar society.

  * * * * *

  The sky filled with a last blaze of glory before darkness, softening the garden with lengthening shadows. Riana rubbed her arms and paced the graveled walk leading to the garden. She was under no delusions about what was to come. Only this afternoon she’d learned about the Punishment Stone. Punishment in the garden was reserved for serious offenses. Bryta had refused to talk about all the details, but the strain in her friend’s eyes and her obvious discomfort, even several hours later, spoke volumes.

  She’d been outraged on Bryta’s behalf and tracked Gaith down in Darias’ office. She gave an indelicate snort. Fat lot of good that had done. Had she really expected the warrior to apologize to Bryta? To admit he’d wronged his mate?

  A wry smile twisted Riana’s lips. The sun circling Nexar would go nova long before either of those things happened.

  No, her anger had overruled her good sense.

  Time and time again, she’d told Bryta and her other new friends not to outright defy the system. That working quietly was much more effective. So why couldn’t she heed her own advice and hold her tongue when needed? She wiped her palms against her thighs.

  Because she couldn’t resist the urge to make the thick-skulled warriors, especially Darias, see that many aspects of Nexarian society were archaic, not to mention downright barbarous.

  Like
their concept of punishment.

  After listening to the women speak of trying to please their mates and masters, seeing the resignation on their faces at their inability to do so, the men’s refusal to even consider the possibility of change became even more infuriating.

  So she’d encouraged the woman to quiet resistance.

  Now she had to live with the fact that her meddling directly caused Bryta’s punishment.

  And the fact that Bryta did not hold her actions against her only deepened her sense of guilt.

  Riana scowled. Somehow, someway, she had to gain access to her ship. Once inside the ship, recapture no longer became a concern—Bryta had told her of Gaith’s complaints at how his warriors had been rendered unconscious when they attempted to open the craft. Obviously, at least some of the ship’s systems were starting to recover from both the ion storm and the crash. Unlike the night Darias had taken her. So, even if the ship was too damaged to be space worthy, she could still hold off the whole of Darias’ army for the length of time it would take to contact Sharri and wait for rescue.

  If Zethra were with her. And if damage to Mischief’s life support systems was minimal or something she could fix herself.

  The sun dropped below the horizon. A chill that had nothing at all to do with cold slid down Riana’s back. Think, you have to think. There had to be a way to get past the guards and aboard her ship. Even more importantly, she had to find a way to divert Darias’ attention.

  He would leave as soon as he finished punishing her.

  This time she would find a way to evade notice.

  She had to.

  Riana’s stomach tightened as tendrils of panic crawled through her. The sheer humiliation of not being able to control her responses filled her with repugnance. She’d always prided herself on her control. Yet tonight’s punishment promised to be so much worse than the others. She couldn’t get Bryta’s strained expression out of her mind.

  She inhaled a deep, shuddering breath. So be it. She hadn’t planned it this way, but she’d be a fool not to take advantage of the opportunity being presented. Maybe her only opportunity.

  All she had to do was endure tonight.

  She scrubbed her palms against her trousers again. Once off this benighted planet, she’d find some way to help Bryta and the other women—and make Darias rue his decision to take her captive.

  Riana inhaled again, hoping to calm her nerves. Myriad sweet, spicy fragrances swirled around her, but they didn’t have their usual calming effect. Tiny flutters of disquiet continued to play havoc with her stomach.

  Zethra, she hated waiting.

  She heard the quiet snick of a latch closing and then footsteps crunched on the gravel until they were directly behind her. She tensed, knowing to whom they belonged. Steeling herself, she turned and faced the royal chambers.

  Darias took her by the arm, leading her deeper into the garden. He turned into an alcove that Riana had thought a dead end. Now she saw that a small path wound around the tall, shrub wall.

  Disquiet became outright dread when what Bryta called the Punishment Stone loomed into view. Hewn of a smooth, pure-white stone, it was carved into the curved shape of a reclining bench. Her gaze landed on the sight of thin leg supports, complete with stirrups and cuffs, sending her nerves fluttering into hyper speed.

  “Privacy shield.” An electronic crackle and a muted shower of sparkles caused the fine hairs on her arms to stand up. Darias continued walking until he was a meter in front of her. The crisp, controlled movements of his lithe, muscular body spoke volumes about his determination to punish her for her infractions.

  “I thought the whole point of this exercise was to shame me before all?” Riana cursed her quick tongue. Striking out when scared was a bad habit of hers. Another thing that Sharri had warned her was going to get her into trouble.

  He waited a long heartbeat before answering. “It is against custom for punishment to be observed by outsiders.” He paused again. “They will hear you.”

  A glint of light from around his neck caught and held her gaze. Suspended on a leather thong, the carved fireice gemstone—his badge of rank—caught the diluted light of the moon and gleamed like the eyes of a panthra cat. She shivered, that small wink of light nestled in the hollow of his throat somehow ominous.

  “Like Zethra they will,” Riana shot back, hoping it wasn’t an idle boast. Nexarian punishment was all-too effective, she’d learned.

  “Fight me and I will take your punishment into the daylight hours.”

  Pure panic unfurled and rose in her throat. His tone brooked no argument. Her plans to use Darias’ absence after punishment flew to the four winds. She had to escape now. “Shield down.” Nothing happened. Riana backed up one step then another. “Shield down.” She hated the slight note of hysteria creeping into her voice.

  “It is keyed to me alone. Try to go through it and it will render you unconscious. Lights on.” Inside the dome formed by the shield, darkness gave way to a diffuse glow.

  Darias removed his heavy black cloak and slung the garment over a bush.

  Riana backed up a pace but was only too aware she had no place to run.

  He turned to her with a look of determination. “Remove your clothes.”

  Chapter Five

  She stood there, panic in her ice-green eyes. Her hands clenched and unclenched by her sides as if she wasn’t quite sure whether to flee or lash out in a futile attempt to stop him.

  Good. Finally she understood the enormity of her error. Mayhap, his life could get back to normal.

  Her gently rounded chin came up and determination filled her eyes, replacing the fear.

  Admiration for her strength of will caught Darias by surprise.

  He didn’t want to admire her willfulness. She disrupted the lives of his men with her offworlder ways.

  She disrupted his life.

  All he could think about when he was around her was the softness of her skin, her quick mind, the way she always smelled faintly of flowers. He could not control his reaction to her. When he was away from her, all he could think of was burying his face in her hair while he buried his cock in her warm body.

  The woman was dangerous. She had to learn to accept the ways of Nexar. She had to learn to accept her place in his life. It was regretful that meant subduing her fiery spirit, but temper it he would…for her own sake.

  “Remove your clothes.”

  Her fingers went to the clasp of the brassiere nestled between her breasts.

  An image of those long, slender fingers wrapping around his cock stilled the breath in his chest. He banished the thought with enormous effort.

  “I didn’t take you for a coward or a weakling, Darias, but I guess I was wrong on both counts.” Slowly, as if she were undressing for a long-awaited lover instead of for a master intent on punishing her, she pushed first one strap and then the other one off her shoulders. The provocative garment slid down her arms and onto the ground.

  “You fear what your warriors will think of you if you allow a woman the freedom to express her opinion. You’re afraid they will believe you weak. Worse, you believe it makes you weak. How is it that such strong warriors…” Her fingers moved to her blouse and, one by one, she slipped each tiny button free. “Such obviously superior warriors as the men of Nexar have reason to fear the influence of such an obviously inferior species as woman?”

  Darias caught tantalizing glimpses of her breasts from her open blouse. His mouth went dry and he had to pry his gaze from the pale flesh.

  “The men of Nexar treat women as if they possess no feelings, no thoughts other than those of their masters.”

  For a moment, the blouse caught on her elbows then it hit the ground, a soft, silken puddle on top of the brassiere. His breath lodged in his chest as the muted light of the Punishment Stone revealed her breasts in all their glory—full, heavy, the tips darkly flushed. His lungs burned until he finally remembered to breathe.

  “Now, why do you suppo
se that is?”

  He couldn’t even remember the question as she toed off the soft leather sandals while one hand toyed with the tie at her waist. Against all logic, his cock stirred. It was a moment before it sank in that she was still speaking.

  “Could it be because they are afraid of facing the fact that women are every bit as intelligent as men?”

  Darias couldn’t take his gaze from her hands as she slowly tugged on the ends of the tie.

  “Or maybe they don’t want to have to face the fact that they’ve been abusing the entire opposite half of their race just so they can get their jollies by dominating them? Just think of all those rules you men make up on the spur of the moment. What chance does a woman stand of not running afoul of them?”

  The blood in his veins heated with a mixture of anger and lust. How could she do this to him? And during punishment? “Mind your tongue.”

  She gave him a patently fake innocent look. “Oh sorry. Did I express an opinion? I forgot. Women have no thoughts of their own.” She shimmied her hips and the silky material of her trousers slithered to the ground, pooling around her feet. Riana stepped out of them, moving to stand beside the inner-lit stone with an elegance not at all affected by her nakedness. “I guess you are just going to have to punish me. Oh wait. You were already going to punish me because I questioned the fairness of Nexar’s ways.”

  “You never know when to quit, do you, slave?” He had to regain control. Somehow, someway, Riana had wrested it from him, became the one who teased the other past endurance. His back teeth clenched at her unmistakable disdain. Fury rushed through his veins. In the back of his mind, he knew that he shouldn’t be feeling fury. He shouldn’t be feeling anything.

  He was past caring. One way or the other, she needed to learn her lesson. He allowed a grim smile to curve his lips as he closed the distance between them. He didn’t stop until the rough weave of his tunic brushed the tips of her breasts.

  “But you will.” His voice was a barely audible growl.

  He gripped her waist and lifted her effortlessly onto the curved seat of the stone. He pushed against her shoulders, the careful, gentle touch not hiding his relentless intent, until she was in a reclining position. The malleable stone allowed him to position her arms and legs into any position he desired.

 

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