Mastered By Love

by Tori Minard

  “So you’ve gotten what you wanted.”

  “Not entirely.”

  She dropped her head forward. “What more do you want?”

  “Your capitulation, of course.”

  “I thought I’d already done that.”

  He smiled. “It seems to me you’re fighting me at every turn.” Dario slipped his hand up her belly and cupped her breast. “I want you to really submit to me. In your heart, not just your body.”

  “I can’t.” She whispered the words so softly he wasn’t sure he’d really heard them.

  “Someday you’ll learn how.”

  Tariza said nothing.

  They sat in the water until it began to grow cold. They got out and he toweled her off carefully before turning to his dressing table in order to shave. His beard itched intolerably and it was time to remove the cursed thing.

  He assembled his razor, soap, and other tools, sending a furtive glance into the mirror to see what Tariza was doing. She sat huddled on his bed, still wrapped in the towel and staring at her hands as if they fascinated her. Anything, he supposed, to avoid looking at him.

  Dario poured a little hot water into his shaving bowl and stirred with his brush. She continued not looking at him as he spread soapy lather over his face and neck.

  He began to scrape away the beard. A movement reflected by the mirror caught his eye. Now she was looking at him. He couldn’t read the expression on her face, but she looked uncomfortable.

  Dario suppressed a grin. Maybe she’d never seen a man shave before.

  When he finished, he splashed more hot water to wash away the remaining soap and toweled his face dry. She still watched him, her face remote and still.

  “Much better,” he said.

  Tariza shrugged. “Makes no difference to me.”

  “Because you adore me with or without a beard?”

  She snorted. “Because I loathe you with or without a beard.”

  “Your sweetness overwhelms me,” he said with a grin.

  Dario climbed into bed with her. His camp bed was large enough to accommodate two sleepers; it was Saturnian custom for military commanders to bring a favorite slave along on campaign. Tariza stretched out alongside him without a word of complaint or question. She didn’t even protest when he put an arm around her and tucked her against his body before pulling the blanket over them both.

  Maybe she was learning. He laid his head on the pillow and fell asleep.

  Chapter 6

  When he awoke again, the sun had filled the tent with the thick, diffused light of midday. The sun hadn’t brought much heat with it, however. His uncle was right; snow was coming to the highlands, maybe in as little as a day or two.

  Next to him, a muffled choking sound came from Tariza’s throat. She had the blanket pulled over her head, as if to hide from him. The blanket trembled as another fit of choking came from beneath it.

  He laid his hand on her back. “Are you all right?”

  She cringed, twitching the blanket more tightly around herself. The choking sound quieted as the shivering stilled. Dario rubbed her back in long strokes.

  For an instant she was silent. Then the choking began again, even louder. He tried to pull back the blanket. She clutched it so tightly he couldn’t pry it from her fingers without hurting her.

  His heart twisted in his chest as he realized that she wasn’t choking; she was crying. Sobbing.

  Shit.

  The words I’m sorry hovered on his tongue. He forced them down his throat. He had nothing to regret. Tariza was the enemy and as such he had the right to take her captive. Besides, he was taking her away from an unnatural way of life and restoring her to the proper place of a woman.

  But if that were true, why did it hurt so much to listen to her cry?

  She sobbed so violently it sounded as if she might tear herself apart. His heart and belly grew heavy, aching with the pain of it. What was wrong with him? He’d never brooded over the sniffling of a woman before, and a few of them had certainly cried at some deserved punishment he’d meted out.

  He wrapped his arms around her, blanket and all. “Shhh, little one. It’s all right.”

  She kicked him in the shin. The blanket stopped her foot from connecting directly with his leg, but she startled a grunt out of him. Dario threw his leg across both of hers.

  “You’re safe with me. I won’t hurt you,” he said firmly.

  “You already have,” she snarled between sobs.

  Under the blanket, she rolled herself into a tight ball. He could hear her teeth grinding together as she fought the tears. The little man-woman was determined not to cry, to be as manly as possible, when everything in her body cried out to be treated as a woman.

  “It’s normal to cry, you know,” he said.

  “Fuck. Off.”

  “Regular women cry all the time.”

  She tried to kick him again. “Do you think I want to be like one of those pathetic little mice you call women? Do you think you can take a Concordian and put her in a harness and instantly turn her into a sweet doormat of a slave?”

  “No. I expect it’ll take some time.”

  “It won’t happen at all.”

  He stroked her through the blanket. “You’ll come around eventually. They always do.”

  “I hate you.”

  Her words stung. He peeled the blanket away from her face, revealing red and swollen eyes, lashes black and spiky with tears.

  “You didn’t seem to hate me in the bath.”

  “Apparently I can lust after a man and despise him at the same time,” she said bitterly.

  Yes, this one was going to take special and intensive training. He’d have to become her whole world, the source of all food and pleasure and security. He’d have to be patient. But eventually she would learn to submit, and do it gladly.

  “We have to be ready to ride in the morning. We’re going back to Saturnios,” he said. “Get up and we’ll have something to eat.”

  Tariza gave him a sour look and wiped her tears with the back of her hand. She sat up. Her hair had dried in wild waves all over her head, giving her an oddly comical appearance. He didn’t smile. It would only hurt her more than she was already hurting.

  Dario picked up a jar of oil he kept on the trunk next to his bed. “We’ll oil that leather if it’s dry. Otherwise it’ll go all hard and give you blisters where it rubs.”

  Another sour look. “I know how to care for harnesses.”

  “I’m sure you do. But you’ve never worn one, have you?”

  Her lips pressed together until they almost disappeared. She turned her head without a word. Dario slipped his fingers beneath one of the harness straps, checking for moisture. It was still damp where it lay against her skin.

  “It’s not dry. We’ll have to do it later.”

  She still said nothing, giving no indication she’d even heard him. Ah, the silent treatment. He smiled to himself. If she thought that kind of behavior would affect him, she was in for a disappointment.

  “May I enter, milord?” Baso said from outside the tent.

  “Yes. Come in,” he called.

  His aide pulled back the tent flap and came inside. A slave named Lola came in after him, carrying a tray heavy with food. She glanced at Dario with a demure smile before standing, head bowed, waiting for orders while Baso grinned at him.

  “Settling in with the new one, I see.”

  “Thank you for bringing lunch,” Dario said.

  “Set the tray on the table, Lola.”

  The girl instantly obeyed. With the tray on the table, she once again assumed the attentive posture of the properly trained slave, head bowed and hands clasped before her. Her long, blond hair fell forward over her shoulders, the ends just brushing her pale pink nipples. She wore a glossy red harness and an ankle bracelet with tiny bells that chimed with every step she took.

  “I thought you might want the services of a real woman after wrestling with a Concordian all night
long,” Baso said.

  Lola was one of the most beautiful slaves belonging to the royal family and he’d been privileged to bring her into the field with him. But now that he’d had Tariza, he couldn’t seem to summon any enthusiasm for the other blonde. He sat up with a sigh and shook his head.

  “Lola is a very talented slave, but I’m too busy with Tariza at present. Why don’t you make use of her yourself, Baso?”

  Lola’s hands clenched tightly. Had his words upset her? She flicked a narrow-eyed glance at Tariza before realizing he was watching her. Brilliant color flooded her face and she looked at her feet again. Odd. Normally Lola was the most biddable of females.

  “Thank you, milord. I don’t mind if I do.” Baso snapped his fingers as he turned to leave the tent. “Come, Lola.”

  Lola followed the man obediently as he left the tent.

  Dario glanced at Tariza sitting next to him in the bed. Her face was as hot and bright as Lola’s, her eyes downcast, but her posture as far from submissive as it was possible to be. Her hands were clasped tightly together, so tightly her fingers had begun to turn white, as if she could barely restrain herself from hitting something.

  He laid one of his hands over both of hers. “She’s had a lifetime of training. Don’t compare yourself to her.”

  Tariza gave him the most poisonous glare he’d ever seen. “You think I’m envious of her?”

  “Um –” He had thought that, yes.

  “I would never envy that – that sorry excuse for a woman. She disgusts me.”

  Dario frowned. “She disgusts you? That’s very harsh. She’s one of our most valued and highly esteemed slaves.”

  “Why am I not surprised?”

  “You would do well to emulate Lola in every way. She’s an exemplary slave, and whether you understand or not, similar behavior will be required of you.”

  “You will never succeed in turning me into a creature like that.”

  At her vehemence, he tightened his grip on her hands. “Do you want to be beaten?”

  She shot him a tight-lipped glance. “No. Of course not.”

  “Then you’ll give every appearance of being a properly submissive slave. Defiant women are beaten.”

  “Charming, Saturnios. Really charming.”

  Dario grabbed her by her shoulders. “I won’t be able to protect you all the time. You’ll be expected to serve in the presence of other men who are much stricter than I.”

  She widened her eyes. “By the Goddess, are you worried on my behalf?” Her tone was sweetly mocking.

  “Yes, damn you. I am.”

  ***

  Saturnios didn’t seem to know what to do with her. He obviously didn’t want her out of his sight. He attached a lead to her harness, clipping it to the D-ring at her throat. She glowered at him, but the swine looked right into her eyes and smiled that infuriating sexy smile of his. He didn’t care that she hated him, didn’t care that he was humiliating her. Goddess, he probably reveled in the fact.

  Behind them, Paolo and another young man were busily packing Saturnios’s belongings in trunks and boxes. There wasn’t much to pack but she supposed they’d get started on their journey well before dawn. It wouldn’t have mattered to her except the two youths kept ogling her and there was nothing she could do to stop them.

  Paolo crossed in front of her, his arms full of bits and pieces of armor and male garments. As he passed her, he gave her a long look that dallied at her breasts and the apex of her thighs. Tariza burned all over. She crossed her arms and glared at him, but he seemed oblivious as he licked his lips and smiled. His gaze met hers and his smile broadened.

  Even Saturnios’s squire felt free to drool all over her.

  “Get used to it, Tariza,” Saturnios said. “Every man in the country will be hot for you.”

  She gave him an imperious look – at least she hoped it was imperious. “I thought I belonged to you and only you.”

  “You do. And it’s my prerogative to share you with whomever I choose. I have no objection to Paolo looking.”

  “I do.”

  He chucked her under the chin. “Your objection, little slave, is immaterial.”

  A sudden, stupid urge to cry took hold of her. She looked down, breathing through her nose and pressing her lips together hard. She’d been doing a lot of that lately. But she wouldn’t cry again. She must not cry in front of these barbarian pigs. It would only encourage them.

  I am unworthy of the name of Concordia. He hasn’t struck me, hasn’t beaten or starved me, hasn’t even questioned me. Yet I stand here sniveling like a little boy.

  Saturnios gave her an odd look but said nothing. As he turned from her, two more men in Saturnian uniforms entered the tent and saluted him.

  Saturnios returned the gesture. “I’ll just get my slave settled and then we’ll talk.”

  The two newcomers openly looked her over as if she were a horse at market. One of them, a middle-aged man with close-cropped silver hair, lifted a hand as if to fondle her. He glanced at Dario and dropped his hand.

  “You have a jewel here, milord,” he said in a jovial tone. “I only wish I’d seen her first.”

  Saturnios tugged on her lead. “Yes, I do.”

  He led her to the far side of the tent, where he clipped the end of the lead to a stake pounded into the ground. “Sit here.”

  Tariza just gazed at him.

  His nostrils flared. “Sit down now. Don’t make me spank you.”

  “I’m cold. If I sit on the ground, I’ll get even colder.”

  He glanced down at her breasts and smiled. “I guess you are cold.”

  Saturnios strode to his bed and pulled the coverlet off. She looked down at herself and discovered her nipples were tightly puckered against the chill in the air. Tariza clasped them in her hands, ignoring the grins of the men.

  Saturnios returned to her and wrapped the blanket around her before pressing down on her shoulders with both hands. “Now sit.”

  “What about food? I’m hungry.”

  “Paolo, get Tariza some food,” he called as he turned from her.

  “You let a slave dictate to you in that manner?” said the silver-haired man.

  “She has the right to eat,” Saturnios said without looking at him.

  “She’s Tariza Concordia. She should have no rights.”

  Saturnios turned his head slowly and gave the man a cold and level stare. “I disagree.”

  Silver-hair dropped his gaze after an instant. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, shooting a glance at his companion. The other man said nothing, kept his face impassive.

  She watched Saturnios approach the two uniformed men and speak to them in a low voice. She couldn’t make out any of the words. Was he chastising Silver-hair or were they discussing tactics? Plans for the fort they were building? She wished she could hear better.

  What would you do with the information? You can’t take it back to Concordia unless you escape. And that was looking less and less likely.

  Paolo set a tin plate of food on the floor before her – just a bowl of stew and a chunk of coarse bread. Tariza spooned up a bite. The stew was hot and savory, the bread fresh, and she ate eagerly, trying not to spill on the blanket. Yes, it belonged to Saturnios and therefore was worthy of ruin, but it currently kept her warm and covered and she wanted it to stay clean.

  The men continued to speak in low tones while Saturnios ate his own meal. Tariza finished her stew and pushed the bowl aside. She had a meter or so of length on the lead; maybe she could get a little closer and pick up some of what they were saying.

  She held the blanket closed with one hand and scooted forward. Saturnios’s head whipped around. He fixed her with a glare that met her gaze like a slap. Tariza froze, her eyes widening.

  He gave his head a barely-discernible shake. Swallowing hard, she scooted back to her former position. Saturnios nodded. He turned back to the men, ignoring her once more.

  One of the others sai
d something she couldn’t hear and all three of them laughed. At her? She clutched her blanket, scowling down at the floor. Pigs. All of them.

  The conference seemed to go on forever, while she grew cold and bored. She ought to be thankful they weren’t whipping her, raping her, or torturing her for information. But the boredom was not something she knew how to cope with. Finally she curled up with the blanket wrapped around her and went to sleep.

  ***

  Someone was poking her with a booted toe. Tariza groaned, opening her eyes to peer up at her persecutor. It was Saturnios, frowning down at her with an impatient expression on his handsome face.

  “Get up,” he said. “It’s time to train.”

  “Train for what?” She sat up, rubbing her eyes.

  “Proper slave behavior, obviously.” He leaned down and took her by the upper arm. “Get up.”

  “I’m up, damn it.” She hitched the blanket more closely around her shoulders for protection against the cold.

  “On your feet.” He pulled on her arm until she stood. “That’s better.”

  She slanted a resentful glance at him. “I know what proper slave behavior is.”

  “Then why don’t you behave properly?”

  She scowled at him and he laughed.

  “You need training, my dear slave. Drop the blanket and come over here.”

  “I’m cold.”

  “Rule number one is do as you’re told. Drop the blanket.”

  With an exaggerated sigh, she obeyed. Goosebumps immediately covered her bare skin. Tariza shivered, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “Come over here,” Saturnios said. He led her to the other side of the tent, where a small heater had been lit. “Stand in front of the heater and you’ll be warm enough.”

  Was that thoughtfulness on his part? No, it couldn’t be. Remember, you hate him.

  He tapped an object against his left calf, the action drawing her eyes. A riding crop. Her gaze sped to his, her eyes wide.

  He grinned. “Yes, we will have discipline today.”

  “You’re not going to hit me with that thing.”

  “Only if you disobey.” He tapped his leg again. “I hear the crop can cause a lot of stinging.”