“I do believe you’re trying to dominate,” she said finally, tickled. “I’m a top, you know.”
“Hmm.” He spun her toward him and began to soap her breasts.
“I know what I am,” she insisted.
“You enjoyed your orgasm?”
“Well, yes.” The words were barely out of her mouth when he dumped her over the orgasmic edge again, with just a push from his mind and a soap bar slid between her legs.
She clung to him until her legs steadied. The shower water beat against her back in a staccato rhythm. She was intensely aware of her nipples pressed to his solid chest, his muscled arms supporting her.
“I…you…that…enough!” she sputtered, jabbing her finger. “Out! I’m done playing.”
“I think you are afraid.” No accusation adorned his voice, just a steady Quince-style mincing of words.
“To submit? Please!” she retorted, offended. But she found herself rising to his challenge even though she knew he was deliberately pushing her buttons.
He finished sudsing her breasts and moved down her stomach.
She struggled to maintain her ground. “We didn’t establish any safe words.” That was one of the best if not the best orgasm of her life and he hadn’t even entered her. Her body greedily demanded more.
“Have I pushed your limits?”
“Yes!”
He arched an eyebrow, then bent to mouth her clitoris.
She moaned and moved beneath his touch. “Okay, no,” she whispered.
He slid himself up her body, slick skin to slick skin. Nibbling on the lobe of her ear, he murmured, “Do you wish to negotiate?”
Her chest rose and fell as fast as his. “I want to be on top,” she whispered fiercely, which was partly true. The other part was desperately intrigued by what he was doing to her.
“I can show you an entirely new world, but you must agree to submit.” His hands had ceased their roving to give her a chance to recover her senses. He turned off the shower water and fetched them towels. Wrapping his towel around his waist, he proceeded to dry her. His touch was gentle, but it was obvious he was trying not to tease her.
It wasn’t in her nature to yield. In all of her former relationships, it was she who held the reins, she who dictated how far they would go and when. What would it be like to give that up? Quince was right. She was afraid.
Was it true alarm though or just a fear of the unknown? Or worse, the fear she might truly enjoy it? If she said no to Quince, she’d be losing a chance to find out. There was something between them, she had no doubts there. Was it enough to hold them together while she wrestled with being submissive?
Quince finished toweling her dry. He carefully wrapped her in the towel and tucked the edges between her breasts.
“What if I say no?”
“I am gambling that you will not.” His lips quirked. When she didn’t reply, he added, “I am confident I can convince you otherwise.”
“Okay, you win. In the bedroom only though.”
He tipped his head. “Let us retire to the bedroom then.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat. He scooped her up in one swoop. Such a simple gesture and yet it made her feel so fragile. She didn’t know what to expect.
Setting her on the bed gently, he left her there while he lit candles throughout the room. The candlelight softened his features. She lay still on the bed, not even trying to strike a seductive pose.
“You may remove your towel,” he suggested while he finished lighting the last candle.
She unwrapped the towel and discarded it on the floor. No, he’d dislike that. He was always picking things up and returning them to their proper place. Picking up the towel, she folded it and draped it on the end of her bed. Her hands were shaking. She balled them into fists.
“When we are in the bedroom, you will address me as Lord.” He turned to her, waiting for a reaction.
Well, that was safe. She didn’t think she had the stomach to say “Master”. “And if I do not?”
“You will be punished as you shall be now.”
She thrilled to hear that. She enjoyed a healthy spanking every now and then.
He sat in her desk chair. “Come here.”
Standing, she strutted toward him, then settled herself on his lap and wound her arms around his neck.
“Lie across my lap, facedown.”
She complied, though it killed her to submit, baring her buttocks to him. Closing her eyes, she waited for the first blow. And waited.
Finally, his hand slid between her legs and he began to finger her clitoris. This was punishment? She was going to misbehave often. Already she felt the blood pooling between her legs. She rubbed against his fingers, bringing herself to the brink.
He stopped.
She held herself still for a moment as well, then moved against him. He withdrew his fingers. She gritted her teeth. So here was her punishment, being denied the chance to orgasm.
Twice more he placed his fingers between her thighs and teased her, knowing full well how far he could go before she slipped over the edge. The last time, she squirmed in his lap, sliding far enough back to rub herself on his towel-clad thigh. It was better than nothing.
Cupping her buttocks, he scooted her back into position over his lap. She wriggled against him, teasing. She could feel his erection against her stomach. What was he waiting for? She was ready for him, had been ready for what seemed like an eternity now.
“Lie on the bed.”
It was about time, but she kept the grumbling to herself. Instead, she murmured a somewhat less than enthusiastic “Yes, Lord” and was surprised by the way his penis jumped beneath the towel. For a moment there, she thought he was going to lose control. Hmm, maybe this power exchange wasn’t so bad.
Easing off his lap, she rubbed the length of her body over the tenting towel as she did so. He groaned ever so softly. Encouraged, she took her time coming to her feet. She stood momentarily before him, illuminated only by candlelight.
“What do you think of my body, Lord?” she asked, running her fingers down both sides of her chest and waist and finally resting her hands at her hips.
“Exquisite,” he breathed, then pounced on her.
She squealed. He moved so fast, almost catlike in his grace. One moment she was standing, the next she was sprawled across her bed being savaged.
That was the only way she could describe this taking. His mouth traveled from her breasts to her earlobes to her lips, tasting, nipping, and sucking. His hands moved independently of one another, touching bits of skin along her legs and back and sides that she never thought of as erotic but were driving her insane at the moment.
She bucked her hips against him, tugging at his towel. His penis tapped her, but didn’t quite enter. Where was that calm sensible alien now? She knew he left marks and she didn’t care. If she didn’t get to fuck something this second, she’d die. As if reading her thoughts, he abruptly pinned both her hands above her head with one of his hands and entered her.
In contrast to their roughness, his entry was surprisingly gentle. He eased his length in, eyes focused on her face. His skin was flushed, lips swollen, dark violet eyes even darker, their irises like black holes. She didn’t know what he was seeing just that moment, but he still possessed enough restraint to be concerned about her.
She wanted him driven as mad as she was. Thrusting her hips upward, she drew his entire length into herself. He was both large and thick. She felt herself stretching to meet him and in that remaining thin line between sanity and orgasmic bliss she understood she was truly lost.
Body, heart and soul, she belonged to this man of the Dragoon.
Chapter Fifteen
The Dragoon would not allow Adrianne to go shopping. Even traitorous Navarre had agreed with the rest of them. Since then, she’d sulked in her bedroom. She had enough history books to keep her busy if she wanted to painfully sound out the words.
But she didn’t. She wanted to go shopping. It was
nearly Christmas and she’d yet to buy a gift for Nikki.
“Too dangerous,” she mimicked their words. Visiting with Nikki at The Beast was one thing. Quince had seen to its security. The Dragoon couldn’t protect her in a place so public. “Too bloody bad.” She picked up a tunic, bunching it in her fist.
Adonthe had made it for her. She smoothed the fabric out on the bed. It was bright ruby red, a narrow V cut in the collar to reveal just a hint of cleavage. She would have no use for it in the human world. She fingered the delicate embroidery on the edges of its wide sleeves.
She packed it in her duffel bag with her other clothes.
It was too easy to escape them. The ship was her sole ally in the Dragoon’s world. It simply opened for her. From Navarre’s flying trips, Adrianne knew the lay of the land. The snow lay in quiet furrows beneath the canopy of evergreens. It was simply a matter of hiking out to the road, and then hitchhiking to town. She knew the Dragoon would track her. A few lessons from Henley had confirmed her suspicions. They were excellent hunters. But it’d take more than a skilled tracker to find her once she climbed into a vehicle.
It’d take Navarre.
She didn’t take the time to decide whether leaving was a wise decision or not. She was through with thinking. Thinking made her worry that she’d never be enough for these men. It wasn’t her fault she couldn’t fly. She also wasn’t to be blamed for those psi talents that seemed to crop up at inopportune moments.
Navarre, despite her attempts, would not do more than kiss her chastely on the forehead or hand. She needed more. Her fingers itched to run across his body, reacquainting themselves with every sinew. But he held her at arm’s length.
The depressed attitude surrounding the men at suppertime each day she failed to fly did nothing for her flagging self-esteem. They were quietly poisoning her.
She laid her hand on the humped nose of the ship, all that remained of it above ground. “Take care of them for me,” she whispered.
Then she left.
She found Nikki in her office, glasses on, alternatingly cursing at a book and the computer. The Gods must have finally been raining favors on her. Quince was nowhere in sight.
Adrianne leaned against the door, arms crossed. “You don’t have Quince hiding beneath your desk, do you?”
Nikki flinched. “Jesus, you scared me. Adri!” She slipped from behind her desk gracefully, like a queen, Adrianne thought enviously, and hugged her tight. “What are you doing here? Where’s your harem?”
“I snuck out.” She glanced around. “Where’s your boy toy?”
“Running an errand.” She tapped a pen against her desk. “I’m itching to ask why you felt the need to escape from a brood of gorgeous men, but I won’t.” The shadows on Adrianne’s face said enough. “I take it you don’t want Quince to find you.”
“No.” She sighed and propped herself on the edge of Nikki’s desk. “They want so much. And I’m a failure.” She buried her face in her hands, then ran her fingers through her hair and lifted her head. “What am I going to do?”
She lifted her head long enough to locate a box of tissues. With a twist of her wrist, the box leaped into her hand.
“Neat trick.” Nikki took the box out of her hand. “But creepy as hell. Don’t do that, okay?”
“Navarre’s a good teacher,” she spat out the words.
“That’s all, huh? Not a good lover too?”
She shook her head. “He doesn’t want me.”
“I doubt that.”
“It’s true.”
Nikki’s arm settled around her shoulder. “For starters, I think we’re going to get you sloppy drunk tonight. I’ve got a great band lined up and it’s a semi-private party. Then you can pass out, and judging by those bags under your eyes, finally get a good night’s sleep. We’ll deal with the rest tomorrow.”
Sound advice. Adrianne gave her a guarded smile. “And Quince?”
“Screw Quince. Two brilliant women like ourselves should easily be able to hide you from one simple man.” She looked at her watch. “Hang out in my room until you hear the band start. Dress in some fetish wear.”
Adrianne rolled her eyes. “I knew it. A plot to get me into more fancy underwear.”
Nikki gave her a sidelong glance. “Wear leather.”
It was exactly something she would never do. Something the Dragoon wouldn’t expect her to do either. Maybe tonight she would.
They were halfway up the apartment stairs when Navarre’s mental voice hit her so hard she dropped to her knees.
Where are you?
His anger, frustration and a hint of fear swam through her. She gritted her teeth against the pain. Safe! she retorted. She owed them that much.
Nikki’s arm was around her waist. “Adri?”
“They found out I’m missing.” She staggered to her feet and made it to the landing before he hit her again. He censored a long litany of curses, but she felt them gloss over her anyway. Where? I will come for you.
Leave me alone! She fed every ounce of frustration over the last couple of weeks into the mental command. Navarre buckled under its strength and left her be.
“They’re in my head,” she said in way of explanation to Nikki.
“I gathered. I’m learning from Quince.”
“What?”
Nikki’s eyes danced with devilment. “All that stimulation gives a whole new meaning to the word foreplay.”
Oh lord, what had she led Nikki into? Navarre was thankfully silent, his mental touch gone. At this point, she didn’t really care if she’d hurt him. Well, deep down she did care, but she wasn’t going to allow herself to feel for him at the moment.
“Do you want a cold compress? A couple of ibuprofen?” Nikki steered her to her bedroom. “Lie down for a little bit.”
“Oh Nikki.” She felt tears welling up. “What am I going to do? I mean, do I look like a queen?”
“You look like you and that is enough.” She folded down the bedcovers. “You obviously didn’t pay attention in history class. There were lots of ugly ineffective European queens.”
“Thanks,” Adrianne said dryly.
“You know what I mean.”
Adrianne took the bottle of ibuprofen and shook two into her hand.
“You have family now, Adri,” Nikki said in a low voice. “I’m so jealous.”
“You? Jealous? You have all the grace and poise I lack. And Quince. Who probably worships your body night and day.”
Nikki’s expression grew dreamy. “Mmm, got that right.” She snapped out of her reverie. “The Quince part. I never thought you suffered from low self-esteem. They’ve really beaten up on you, haven’t they? I’m not one to stroke people’s egos.” Her lips pursed. “Other things though… Come down to the party tonight and get your ego stroked. And more, if you’re looking for that. I’ll lay something eye-catching out to wear.”
“God, what would I do without you?” Adrianne lay down and was almost instantly asleep. Nikki had swapped the ibuprofen with some sedatives.
“I think the same thing, honey.” Nikki sighed, closed the drapes and left her sleeping.
Adrianne woke up to the bass throb of the band beneath her feet. She didn’t realize until now, she missed the rumble of a full band shaking the old floorboards loose. The Dragoon’s ship was so quiet, like a crypt. Her stomach complained, reminding her how little she’d eaten today. She glanced at the clock. Yikes! Nine p.m. But she felt so much better. Nikki’s sheets smelled of spicy perfume, a scent that bespoke dark magic and hinted at the promise of untamed sex. Which, she was sure, was exactly what Nikki intended it to do.
She raked her hair away from her face and stumbled to the bathroom. Brushing her teeth with a smatter of toothpaste smeared on her finger, she sloshed around some mouthwash and spat into the sink. The outfit Nikki laid out brought a low laugh. Oh, she’d garner attention tonight.
The deep blue lace bodice was a fitted corset with a drape of asymmetrical black feathers fr
om knee to thigh. Rhinestone-studded heels, a matching blue collar and a feathered mask completed the ensemble. It became a key to a new world, a temporary respite from her present scenario and its mountain of responsibilities and failures. She ran her fingers over the smooth fabric.
What did she stand to lose? Tonight she would start clean. After tonight there would be no more guilt over what she could or could not be for the Dragoon. She was simply herself. Right now, she just thanked God she could no longer hear voices in her head.
* * * * *
The bar was packed. Some people were dressed in street clothes, but they were by far the minority. By semi-private, she guessed Nikki meant members could bring guests. She recognized some faces.
Nikki varied the band on the weekends to cater to her members’ diverse tastes. Generally, Friday night hosted the wildest band, heavy metal, loud, throbbing music. Saturday night alternated between a DJ and her standard band, something that played everything from polkas to soft rock, but overall kept their music more toned down. Sunday, surprisingly, was classical, usually only piano music from the baby grand tucked to the side of the stage.
Adrianne sashayed her way to the bar, alternating between wanting to hide and wanting to flaunt herself. The corset pushed her breasts up, forming cleavage she didn’t know she possessed, obviously an attribute she’d underplayed all these years. The sapphire satin perfectly complemented her pale skin tone. She’d wound her hair up into a layer of curls on top her head. A few curls kissed her bare shoulders.
Even Quince gave her a second glance when she sauntered up to the bar. At least she hoped he was looking at her body and not fingering her as their errant Queen. Nikki poured drinks behind the bar. Her black leather crop top revealed her pierced belly button. The pair of skintight red leather pants hugged the rest of her curves.
Nikki glanced her way. “You look ravishing. Give me one sec.” She mixed a few drinks, slid them to her waitress and walked over. “Hey there.” Beneath Quince’s watchful eye, she kissed Adrianne on the cheek, then whispered. “He knows you’re missing. They’re sick with worry.”
“I’d imagine they are,” she replied softly with false bravado, then downed the proffered drink. “The band is great!” she said loudly, pulling back.
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