by Raven Dark
By the time we started walking through every part of the Grotto I hadn’t seen, I was ready to claw him apart.
Aside from a few hours in the day when Sheriff was busy and Pretty Boy took over tending to me, my other two masters had hardly seen me, the poor men. They didn’t argue the point, maintaining this was their General’s time with his woman, and they couldn’t interfere. Except they always said this with a wink and a smile, clearly enjoying what was happening to me. Pretty Boy was delighted with the order not to take his pleasure with me.
“I thought you had to work today, Master,” I said, letting him lead me on a slow walk through the Grotto’s version of a creature conservatory, the last place he’d taken me to see.
“Not with us leaving in a few hours, I don’t.” He laid his hand on my back. “Are you trying to get rid of me, sweetheart?”
By now, even the slightest rumble of his voice set me off like a tuning fork. He grabbed my hand, his big palm almost burning my skin. “Of course not, Master.”
The corners of his mouth turned up, letting me know he heard the frustration in my voice.
Throughout several large rooms, tanks sat on tables and shelves, showcasing long, coiled snakes in a rainbow of colors and patterns; large hairy spiders, some as big as Steel’s fists; scorpions and every other manner of creature that crawled in the deserts around the Grotto. Most of them could kill within seconds of biting or stinging, so the atmosphere was hardly romantic even with the low lighting. Even so, if Sheriff had slammed me up against a wall and ripped my clothes off, by the Light of the Maker, I’d have eagerly spread my legs and let him pound his way to our mutual release.
“Master, can I ask you something?”
“More questions?”
I couldn’t tell if he was annoyed or just playing, but I pushed aside the prick of nervousness and forged on. “How is it that you didn’t have a slave before me?”
“I did…do…after a fashion.”
“I don’t understand.”
He stopped alongside the large scorpion cage, watching one wriggle into the sand on the bottom of its tank. It looked as large as my head. Sheriff paused as if thinking as he tapped on the glass. The scorpion burrowed deeper.
“All the slaves in the Grotto are technically mine, Little Spy. The domestic ones take turns taking care of my quarters, the washing and whatnot.”
“Oh, I know. But I mean. Um. You didn’t have a pleasure slave. Nearly every other General I’ve heard of has a whole cadre of them to fill his bed.”
His chest rose and fell on a breath before he leaned on the tank’s table and looked at me, his face close. “Why do you wanna know?”
“It’s bothered me for a while, Master, but you’re the only one I don’t really know anything about. Pretty Boy, Steel, even Hawk I know enough to feel like they’re a part of me. In here.” I tapped my heart. “But you. You keep so much of yourself hidden behind a leader’s mask that it’s unsettling.”
He nodded, seeming to understand. One of his hands lifted and he brushed my bangs off my forehead. My bangs that were now as black as night instead of pale lavender, and I wondered what he thought of the change.
“I’ve never allowed myself to be with anyone but the club whores. No one that I own for my own pleasure and mine alone.”
The sudden image of Sheriff with Diamond or Emmy filled my mind, vivid and so lifelike I could clearly see the stocking tattoos that covered Emmy’s legs, or Diamond’s gorgeous tanned face filled with ecstasy while Sheriff hammered himself into one and feasted on the other. Jealousy made my muscles tense.
“Okay. I don’t need to hear anymore,” I muttered, staring into the scorpion tank so that he couldn’t see my face.
“Jealous, my little spy?” His finger caressed my cheek.
“I wish you wouldn’t call me that.” Until now, I’d found the name amusing, once I knew he didn’t think I was a spy sent here by Damien. But now, knowing he disliked attachment, the name stung.
“Ooh. Look at you, being all outspoken. But I asked you a question, Little Spy.” He moved in behind me, his mouth at my ear. “Are you jealous?”
There was no point in lying to this man. I couldn’t have denied him anything if I wanted to. “Yes, Master.”
“Good. I like knowing I affect you.”
I leaned my head back on his shoulder, knees weak. “Master, please tell me something.”
He rumbled his permission to continue.
“Why did you used to hate me so much?”
“You know why. You were Damien’s.”
“Yes, but why do you hate Damien so much? What did he do to you?”
His fingers dug into my hips. “You don’t need to know that.”
The immediate way he shut me down slashed at my heart. Would I ever really know the head of the Dark Legion?
“He hurt you somehow. I know he did.”
His grip on my hips tightened until I winced. “Enough questions. We’re not discussing Damien right now.”
I heaved a sigh, feeling as though a chasm had stretched between us, one I had no idea how to cross.
“Yes, Master.”
He turned me to face him and took my hand. Opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Crash and Cherry walked in, kissing like it was their last day together.
“Come with me,” Sheriff growled, and there was a bite of impatience in his tone. “There’s something I want to discuss with you before we leave the Grotto.”
He took me to his bike. Twenty minutes later, we were sitting in the meadow by the well. A light morning breeze played among the pink rasper blossoms.
“You had something you wanted to tell me, Master?” I asked, when after almost a half hour, he didn’t speak, only sat close to me, kissing my neck, my cheek, my shoulders.
“Are you in a rush, sweetheart?”
“Are you stalling, Master?”
He bit my ear as if in admonishment. Then he gently pushed me down until I lay across the grass beside him. His eyes were a strange mixture of warmth and authority. “When we were here last time, I told you that you were one of us. Bound to us.”
“Yes, Master.” I played with his fingers, marveling at the many rings on them.
“Well, you aren’t as one of us as you could be. You aren’t tethered to me as much as you should be.”
“What do you mean, Master?”
He paused, his eyes locking on mine. His hand took my jaw, cradling it. Holding it so that I had to look right in his eyes.
“I want you as my slave, Setora.”
I blinked at him. “I am your slave, Master.”
His face softened, his eyes suddenly warm. “No. This is more than that.” He paused, taking a breath. “After the last few weeks since you’ve been here, I hope you see that you can trust me. That you know I’ll protect and take care of you. I know I gave you every reason not to trust me in the beginning.”
He cleared his throat.
“Look, I’m not a feelings kind of guy. I don’t even like saying that word. But I can tell you care for my Brothers. Steel, Hawk and Pretty Boy. I see it every time you’re with them. And I know they care for you, too.”
I swallowed. Where was he going with this? Vulnerability radiated from him, and I wanted to ease his mind, but I didn’t want to put words in his mouth. If I spoke, he might shut down.
“When my men took you from Damien, they made you our slave. A slave to the Four. We own your body.”
“Yes, Master.”
Sheriff paused and cleared his throat roughly. “Do you remember when you came back from Talak and his men?”
“I do, Master.”
“Steel said you chose to come back to us. That you chose them. I need to know. Would you choose me?”
My eyes widened, my breath catching in my throat.
Instead of waiting for my reply, he laid his hand over my heart, over the scar there, over the one part of me he couldn’t take unless I gave it.
“I want to hear
you name yourself my slave, not because we left you no choice, but because you want it.”
I sat up slowly. My thoughts spun. “I’m not sure I understand. How would that change things between us?”
“It would mean that you are giving yourself to me, just like you did with my boys. If you make this promise to me, it means you’re trusting me with all of you. There would be no turning back. I’d never have to worry that you’d leave us. You’d be mine. Ours, for always.”
For a long time, I said nothing, only sat there letting his words work themselves into every fiber of my being. On the surface, it might have seemed like there was no difference in what he wanted between us and what already was. But I knew. I could feel there was a big difference.
If I gave him such a promise, I was giving him a level of trust, a part of me that went way beyond anything physical. He was right; I had let Steel and Pretty Boy deeper into my heart than I had Sheriff. There’d never been any conscious agreement between us that said I was more than a slave, but I’d let myself grow closer to them. And like it or not, I felt something deep for Hawk, something not at all slave-like, even if he didn’t know it yet. The thing was, what Sheriff wanted with me suggested something so personal, so intimate—so eternal—that I couldn’t decide if it thrilled or scared me. Such a deep, life-long promise would give him a power over me that he’d never come close to having before. But it also constituted a bond that I had not heard of since before the Old World had ended.
For the second time in my life, I was being given a choice, offered something from the hardest of men, the last person I expected.
“Sheriff…Master…I don’t know what to say.” I looked up into his face.
“Say yes. Say you want to belong to me.” His voice was soft, his fingers tracing my mouth as though he was painting the words he wanted to hear there.
“I…I…” A huge part of me wanted to throw my arms around him and tell him I was all his, in every way, but something also held me back.
It wasn’t just the hint of possessiveness I was picking up from him. Nor was it that he was the leader of the Dark Legion and the master I knew the least about. It wasn’t even that he and his men were pirates. We still didn’t know why my blood changed or what that made me, or what might happen next. I believed he wanted me the way he spoke of, that forever truly meant forever for him. But what if I turned out to be something he didn’t want?
Not to mention, he was hiding something from me. Whatever happened between him and Damien, it didn’t feel right not knowing it. Damien had been my former master, and I hated knowing there was a connection between him and Sheriff without understanding what it was.
After all that had happened, after how much I’d lost, I couldn’t bear the thought of having him look at me with shame or horror, or of him not seeing all of me. Because if he couldn’t open up to me fully, he surely couldn’t accept all of me. Add the fear of rejection and fear of losing him…no, there wasn’t enough certainty there for me to make a decision. It broke my heart, but there was only one way to answer him right now.
“Master, I am so honored that you asked me to be yours. That you’re giving me this choice and sharing so much of yourself with me. But it’s a huge step.” I reached up and touched the side of his face, loving the hint of roughness under my fingers. “I need time.”
His hand dropped away from me, and he looked toward something on the horizon behind me. I could feel him close off as easily as if he’d wrapped himself in a cloak of distance.
“So you’re scared,” he finally said. “I get that, but there’s nothing to be afraid of.”
“I’m not—”
Once again, his fingers cradled my jaw, but his hold was firm, a master’s grip. “I’ve never taken a woman who wasn’t a whore before you. No connections, nothing I owned for me. I’m asking for all of you, and I want to hear you say yes, right here, right now.”
“I can’t—”
“Yes, you can.”
“Tell me about Damien, Master.”
“No.”
The crack across my heart deepened. “Then my answer is no, too.”
He shook his head. “You’re still not seeing this.” He put his face so close to mine that his warm breath fanned my cheeks. “You’re already mine, Setora.” His grip on my jaw tightened, and his mouth claimed mine, hard and crushing. “You got under my skin, Little Spy. You’ve won.”
“Master, it’s not—”
He leaned in again, biting my lip. “You can tell me you don’t want me—”
“I didn’t say I didn’t want you. I said I need—”
Sheriff didn’t let me finish. He fisted my hair. “Oh, yes, you did.”
His voice wasn’t cruel or mean, but gentle and hot, and that somehow made it worse. He crushed me to him, his chest pressed against mine so hard I felt his heart pounding into me.
Before I could think of what to say, he grabbed my sex. “This. This is mine. If I can’t get inside you this way…” He touched my heart with his other hand…“then I’ll get inside you here.” His fingers on my core tightened.
“Master, you don’t have to do it this way. Let’s talk about this.”
“You don’t want me, Setora?” His voice was dark. “If that’s true, why are you so fucking wet?”
Maker, he was right. The crotch of my pants was soaked.
What could I say? There was no denying it, I not only wanted him, so much that my whole body hummed with need for him, but at least part of me cried out to pledge myself to him exactly as he wanted. I opened my mouth to reply twice, only to close it both times.
“That’s what I thought.”
Once more, he crushed me to him, and the next instant, I was lying on my back across the grass, his heavy, powerful frame trapping me beneath him.
“Master—”
But his mouth descended on mine, hard and hot, silencing me. His lips raked mine, tongue shoving in so there was nothing I could do but kiss him back. He tongued me hard while one of his hands reached between us and opened my pants.
The weight of him, the smell of him—woodsy and masculine—the feel of him, all leather and roughness, seared itself like a brand on every part of me, as inexorable as that tattoo he’d drawn on my back. The passion that infused his every action threatened to consume me, and I pushed at his hands, trying to slow him down before I could be utterly lost to it. Once he was inside me, all reason would be lost, and I would be his, regardless of what I’d said to the contrary.
Sheriff flicked my hands away, and then his touch seemed to be everywhere at once. He pushed my top up to expose my breasts, then he slid his hand under me, into the back of my pants until his palm cupped and squeezed my bare backside.
“Master…” What was I asking? Did I want him to stop?
A groan rumbled out of him and he sucked one of my nipples into his mouth. He was all teeth and tongue, nipping and sucking hard until I arched my back instinctively and hissed between my teeth.
Somehow, he’d managed to put his arm under my neck, but in such a way that he held my wrist beside my head, keeping it immobile while his other hand pushed my pants down to my knees. The way he was laying on top of me kept me from moving my other hand between us and stopping him.
He sucked and licked my other nipple until it was a painful pinpoint of need. I nearly lost my mind. Just as I feared, any resistance melted away under waves of need, and all I could do was wriggle under him, desperate to be filled.
“You want my cock, don’t you?” His mouth brushed my ear while his hand dipped between my legs and his fingers toyed with my clit.
I mewled and squirmed. He was like poison injected into my veins, toxic as a drug. Need and something more caustic roiled in me, burning and addictive.
While he sucked hard on my neck, I felt him opening his pants.
“Open for me. Give me what’s mine.” But his knees forced mine apart before I could obey.
I tried to look away, anything to deny I�
��d so easily become his, but he jerked my face up, holding it in place. “Look at me, Setora. I want you to see what you do to me every second I’m inside you.”
But his gaze was terrible, raw and burning, promising something deep and lifelong, something that, after Damien’s betrayal, after how easily Sheriff and his men always pulled away just when got close, I didn’t know how to accept.
My eyes closed, shutting out what I saw in him.
“No. Don’t you fucking dare shut me out. Look at me.”
My eyes opened, and his gaze trapped mine.
“That’s it. Let me in.” He yanked his pants down to his hips, shoved my knees apart, and surged into me in one rough, wet, needy thrust.
I cried out, my hips bucking into his, my body accepting him greedily, despite my brain wanted.
Sheriff filled every inch of me, becoming the whole of my world. His hands pinned my wrists down while he thrust in and out of me without slowing, his mouth and tongue all over me.
So, this is what his passion felt like. Yes, he’d taken me before, twice. But he’d always done it from behind, fast and brutal and without looking into my eyes, taking me like a slave. This was different. It was as if he was trying to brand some deeper part of me with something that would make me more than a slave, more than an object for his lust.
Something that had no name.
“You see what you’ve done, Little Spy?” he growled. He ground into me, his hips smashing into mine. “Do you feel that? Do you feel what you’ve done to me?” He slid out and hammered back in, emphasizing his words with his thrusts. “You see what you’ve done to my fucking men?” Slam. “To this whole damn Grotto?” Thrust. “My fucking kingdom, and you’ve turned it upside-fucking down.” Thrust.
He withdrew and then slid back in, hissing between his teeth now, as if I’d burned him. I’d burned him, and he couldn’t get enough.
“I’ll never let you out of my sight again. You’re mine, and if you don’t like it, tough.” He bit my lip hard. I whimpered, but he didn’t care. “You’ll learn to love it, Little Spy. You will.”
His grip of my wrist almost hurt, and he took the other, pinning them both to the grass above my head. He fucked me slowly, with long, deep strokes, his mouth searing mine until I bucked under him and cried out. Pleasure tore through me, eating me alive.