That hollow feeling that was with her all the time now swelled until it almost swallowed her.
She had allowed her anger and humiliation to reshape her into someone she abhorred. Okay, so maybe her behavior at first had been justified. The only way Darias was ever going to truly learn Nexar needed to change was to experience life as a slave himself, but it was inexcusable to continue to look for reasons to treat him thus. This, though… This had gone far beyond dominance and submission between a woman and a man. For all her silent assurances to herself to the contrary, she had tried to compel Darias into total submission, both in and out of the bedchamber. Look at the way she had made him present himself to her in the office.
She swallowed a bitter taste.
That had been about humiliation and control, not about mutual pleasure.
Truth was she had used it to punish him for not backing off the battle between them. For playing the game just that bit better than she had. Gall burned the back of her throat as she admitted the rest of the truth. It was about hurting him as he had hurt her by—after all they’d done together—still refusing to acknowledge her skills and strengths as worthy of his respect.
It was a hell of a time to realize she didn’t want to subjugate Darias. At least not outside of sex, she qualified with a spurt of honesty. In that, his submission suited her just fine. As it did Darias, if only he was willing to admit it. Outside of their private relationship, however, she wanted them to be partners. Equal partners.
The admission filled the hollow in her chest, making her whole and free for the first time in a very long time. Free of rage, free of bitterness…just free.
A small smile lifted one corner of her lips. She knew the perfect place to start initiating the changes.
His skin heated the sheer spidersilk of his tunic. Riana trailed the tips of her fingers down lower, lower.
Darias’ breath caught.
She felt an answering flutter of desire in the pit of her stomach as she unbuckled the leather harness, taking a moment to trace and admire the way it defined the muscles in his chest.
“What…” His throat worked strongly and his voice was hoarse. He cleared his throat and started over. “What are you doing?”
“What does it look like?” A sensual amusement spilled over inside Riana and warmed her the way nothing had in a very long time. Even as a slave, Darias was almost always in control of himself, of his emotions. Only during punishment did that immense control slip.
And during sex.
He’d obviously been braced for punishment, so her actions now caught him off guard. He wasn’t sure what to make of her. Of her actions.
Punishment or play.
She could see the question swirling in the tarnished gold of his eyes. Good. The confused desire she saw in his eyes was exactly what she wanted. She needed to keep him guessing if she ever hoped to succeed in her new plan.
The leather harness dropped to the rug. Working her fingers between the fastenings of his tunic, she began stroking the warm flesh of his chest. He shuddered and caught her fingers, stilling them.
“You plan to punish me outside our quarters?” he sounded strained.
“No.”
“This is some new way to torment me, isn’t it? You’re going to make me think you aren’t angry at my actions and then punish me,” he grated. Beneath her touch, fine shivers coursed through his strong form.
“Does it feel like punishment?” she murmured.
“No. Yes. I don’t know.” He closed his eyes and arched his head back as she slipped her hand free of his and traced featherlight circles down to his abdomen.
Riana slowly unfastened the toggles of his tunic, placing a small kiss on each new bit of skin revealed. A breath shuddered out of him as she reached the waist of his breeches.
Hard hands bit into her shoulders.
Riana couldn’t tell if he was trying to stop her progress or urge her on. She had the strong suspicion he wasn’t sure either. She lifted her head.
“Do you want me to stop?” Her heart beating furiously in her chest, she waited for his answer.
One hand tangled in her hair, Darias pulled her head back until he could look down into her eyes. His gaze searched hers. “I should. This is wrong. I shouldn’t allow you to touch me like this, not outside our chamber. Not if you’re not punishing me.”
“Are you going to tell me to stop?” Riana pressed harder. She had to hear him admit he wanted her to continue. Later, she didn’t want accusations that she’d forced him.
The gold eyes blazed with a molten desire. “No. Krel, no. I just hope for both our sakes you aren’t toying with me, Riana,” he groaned before drawing her mouth back to his stomach.
Triumph soared in her. Her dragon, whether he realized it or not, had just willingly relinquished a part of his precious self-control to her. Without coercion.
Her favorite love scene from The Damsel and the Dragon popped into her mind.
Oh yes. If that didn’t make him forget his own name, nothing would.
Her tongue darted out, tasting him. Riana relished his mutters of encouragement. The clean, masculine scent that was Darias’ alone rose to envelop her. She stepped back and unfastened her blouse, one button at a time. Her hands then went to her snug-fitting trousers. Kicking off her boots, she shimmied out of the pants, leaving herself clad only in a pair of sheer lace panties and a shirt that barely covered her hips.
Closing the small distance that separated them, she knelt before him, aware that each movement caused her blouse to alternately conceal and reveal her unbound breasts. She unlaced first one of his soft boots and then the other, tossing them aside as she removed them. Her hands on the outsides of his calves, she slowly stood, trailing her hands up his legs as she rose. Her hands cupping his hips, she just stood there for a moment.
The evidence of his arousal was unmistakable. The spidersilk breeches and thong shaped him so lovingly that she could even see a tracing of the veins beneath the velvet-soft skin of his erection. Slipping her fingers beneath the waistband of his breeches, she slid them, one centimeter at a time, down over his hips. He stepped out of them as they fell to the floor.
Darias was left standing, magnificently male and in his prime, clothed in that bit of an excuse for an undergarment.
Riana licked her lips, unable to take her eyes off his maleness. She was ruefully aware of the tremor in her hands as she reached for the scrap of gold cloth.
He was so aroused that the material covering the tip of his cock was practically transparent from the moisture leaking from the small slit.
His cock tumbled into her waiting hands as she eased the thong down his hips. She closed her hands about him gently. Air hissed from his lungs as she reverently traced one finger along the underside of his cock, from the base to the head. A drop of milky fluid pearled on the tip. His hands became fists at his sides when she lowered her head to lick it off.
Not quite sure whether it was her idea or his, they fell to the floor. She pushed him flat. Hands entwined with his, she straddled Darias, a knee on each side of his hips.
“Let me show you the way we make love where I come from.”
“Have you fucked many other men?”
At the dark note of jealousy in his voice, she smiled. “None like you.” She lowered her head and covered his mouth with hers before he could inquire further. Any other man who had gone before in her life no longer mattered. The only man who mattered now was Darias. With a jolt of surprise, she realized Darias was the only man she could ever envision mattering. Somehow, someway, despite his treatment of her and her fury at him, feelings for him had crept up on her. She refused to put a more precise name than that to the emotions.
Her tongue slid along the seam of his lips, asking permission to enter.
Cautiously, he opened his mouth. His tongue tried to tangle with hers.
She evaded it, instead stroking the roof of his mouth with short, heated licks.
His hands tighte
ned around hers, his big hands swallowing hers.
Encouraged, she explored the dark recesses thoroughly until they were both panting, unable to get enough oxygen into their lungs. She broke the kiss to suck on the lobe of his ear. Fine chill bumps chased down the exposed flesh of his chest. She felt his muscles gather, preparing to roll over and take control.
“No, don’t,” she said, stopping him with a gentle touch. “Let me. Let me show you what it’s supposed to be like. Pleasure.” She placed a light kiss under his jaw, a shiver of her own working its way down her spine at the feel of the beard-roughened skin beneath her lips. “Mind-blowing.” She placed another in the hollow of his throat. “Breath-stealing.” She dipped her tongue into his navel. “Pleasure.”
For a moment he didn’t move.
She almost sighed aloud, wondering if after the last several weeks, Darias couldn’t bring himself to trust her enough to give himself over into her keeping.
Then he shifted, opening his legs.
Tension she hadn’t been aware of seeped out of her body. She couldn’t help the brilliant smile of relief she flashed in his direction.
“Leave everything to me.”
A wry smile tugged at his lips. “Have I done anything else lately?” But there was no heat in the statement, rather a sardonic amusement that seemed directed toward himself.
She ruffled the hair on the inside of his thigh with her palm and all amusement vanished, replaced by desire.
His eyes darkened and he shifted his legs, urging her hand higher.
She moved a fraction of a millimeter and was rewarded by heated words of encouragement. She leaned over him. Her hair slipped off her shoulders and brushed his shaft.
His sudden intake of breath slid down her spine and heated the pit of her stomach. Riana was acutely aware of her own arousal, the wetness and growing ache between her legs. Her hair tangled in the thick thatch at his groin, like strands of fire against the midnight sky.
The differences in their bodies fascinated her. Where she was smooth, he was lightly ruffled with dark hair, where she was soft, he was hard. So hard, she marveled, taking his length in her hands, testing its strength.
“Take me into your mouth,” he rasped, moving restlessly on the deep burgundy carpet.
“Are you sure?” It went against his custom, she knew. She had teased him into demanding her mouth, driving him out of his mind with need until he didn’t care whether it was forbidden or not several times, but she wanted more than that now. And, she found she couldn’t bear the thought he might regret his actions later.
Sudden doubts about her tactics rose. While she’d wanted him to lose his self-control, she didn’t want it at the cost of his pride.
He cupped the back of her head, urging her down. “I’m sure I’ll burn up if you don’t.”
It was all she needed to hear.
She closed her mouth on the tip of his cock, running her tongue beneath the extremely sensitive flared cap.
He arched, his hand clenching in her hair.
She cupped his balls, gently squeezing the hair-roughened sac.
“Krel, Riana!”
She ran her other hand up and down his length, slowly…gently. Her mouth followed, never in the same pattern, never with the same pressure. Tiny beads of moisture appeared on the tip of his cock, and Riana licked them off. She turned her head to nip his thigh.
He yelped and lifted her up, over his body, his mouth seeking and finding hers.
Riana took his lower lip in her teeth and tugged.
His groan vibrated through her.
She slid down his body, conscious that she was leaving a trail of evidence of her desire on him. She scooted back until his heat and hardness prodded at the sensitive opening of her pussy. She stilled, savoring the sensation.
His fingers closed on her hips in an almost painful hold, easing her slowly onto his erection.
Breathing hard, her head pounding with the force of her desire, she grabbed his hands and put them on her breasts, silently urging him to explore.
It wasn’t her head pounding but the door.
Riana collapsed on Darias, uncertain whether to keelhaul someone or laugh to keep from crying. Her forehead against his chest, she muttered, “If it isn’t important, I will keelhaul them.”
The door handle turned. Zethra, she couldn’t remember if she had bolted the door or not. “Wait! Don’t come in!” That was all she needed, to have one of the women walk in on her and Darias. He’d never forgive her.
“Riana, I’m sorry to disturb you, but Myrta of the woodworking guild needs to speak with you.”
“Give me fifteen minutes and I’ll meet you in the Great Hall.”
“Yes, Supreme Chief.”
Riana finally recognized the voice. It was Jayna and she sounded harried, but not upset. Riana could well understand that. Since the destruction of the contracts on the computer and then the disappearance of the hard copies, the select group of woman she had picked to recoup from the loss had been running their asses off. Somehow, they were managing to stem the damage from the rumors of favoritism while piecing together new contracts. Of course, if she could recover the original contracts, a tremendous amount of pressure would be off all of them.
And now one of the shrewdest women in the guild wanted to talk to her personally. Myrta must have been born with the blood of a merchant in her veins. If the woman hadn’t been causing her so many headaches, she would have admired her skill and tenacity in negotiating. She silenced a sigh as visions of spending the afternoon making love to Darias dimmed. Ah, well. The demands of power. A wicked grin curved the corners of her mouth. There was still that fifteen minutes. She got up, motioning Darias to stay as he was and walked to the desk and rummaged in a drawer.
The thing about being a successful trader or Supreme Chief was the ability to go with the flow and change plans when the original was no longer feasible.
She had been a very good trader.
“Close your eyes.”
Subtle tension rippled through that magnificent length of his body, but he did as commanded.
It was a good thing his eyes were closed. Somehow she didn’t think it was dignified for the Supreme Chief to be caught drooling over a naked body. Not even if that body sported eight-pack abs and an erection that could bring an entire pleasure planet to its knees.
Said erection quivered then jerked when she moved closer.
Oh yeah, she had plans for that later. Long, slow, hard plans.
“Turn over but keep your eyes closed.”
He rolled over, grimaced, lifted and adjusted himself before lying facedown again.
Umm. The back view was just as luscious as the front.
She knelt beside him. “You’ve been a very bad boy.”
His shoulders tightened.
“You broke all three rules. Not only were we private and you made no move to disrobe, but you spoke without permission and did not assume the stance.” She trailed a nail down the line of his spine to the dip just above the swell of his buttocks. “Now what should I do about your transgressions?” Her tone was light, but with a note of sternness threading through it. She was his Mistress and in this arena she would command his obedience.
To both their satisfactions.
She heard him swallow. “Permission to speak, Mistress?”
“When I ask you a question, you may answer without first asking permission.”
“Yes, Mistress. Spanking. I deserve a spanking.” Heat and embarrassment laced the deep, rich voice, roughening it and sending it spiking straight to her clit.
She squeezed her thighs together.
“Hmm.” She cupped one cheek of his ass, the tips of her nails digging into the crease. A silent threat of punishment if he didn’t please her. “I think you are right. A spanking to warm your butt and to remind you to remember the rules in the future.” She landed a solid blow with an open hand.
He grunted, and the smell of hot, male musk swirled and mingled
with the scent of the garden in the warm, heavy air. Not until his ass was a pleasing shade of vermilion did she stop.
His heavy breathing resounded in the room.
Riana licked her lips, struggling to get her own arousal under control. Blood thrummed in her veins, hot, heavy and filled with life. “Spread your legs,” she commanded, her voice deeper than normal.
He swallowed audibly then slowly moved his legs apart.
“Present yourself.”
His breath hitched. “Mistress?”
“Do it, Darias.”
His hands shook as he slowly moved them to the cheeks of ass and spread them. His face stayed turned toward the window, his hair hiding his expression. The back of his neck turned bright red, a shade almost deep and hot enough to match his ass.
She traced the flush with a touch meant to both soothe and arouse. Leaning down, she pressed a kiss to the small of his spine then to the tender spot where buttock and thigh met. Her lips felt the heat from her spanking.
Sitting upright, she poured the oil she’d retrieved from the desk into the palm of one hand. The heady scent filled the air. Tilting her hand over the start of the crease separating the heavy muscle, she let it trickle and run down to his tight ring of muscle.
The muscles of his ass clenched and his fingers dug into the well-spanked cheeks. “That’s it,” she praised, her voice husky with desire. “Don’t move. You are so beautiful. You shouldn’t be embarrassed.” She dipped her fingers in the oil and swirled one around that forbidden hole. “You belong to me. Everything. Here.” She kissed his neck, all the while rimming the tender ring with the tip of her finger. “And here.” She nipped the heated swell of his haunch. “And most definitely here.” She pressed an intimate kiss to that dark, hidden spot, allowing the tip of her tongue to stray out and stroke him.
He jumped.
“Riana!”
SurrendersMischief Page 17