Three Days of Dominance

by Cari Silverwood

  “You said you were going to let me decide without the toah affecting me.”

  “Or I could simply destroy it.”

  “And let yourself die? No. Don’t do this. Please. I’m willing to help you. If you reject this and die…you’re going to leave me feeling—” She frowned. Lost? Was that the word she sought? There’d be a terrible emptiness, she knew that, and sorrow. She came out of her reverie to find him looking at her, frustrated and yet underneath seemed a morsel of exasperated pride.

  “Very well. You’ll have your chance to think about this without the toah. So I still get to do this.” The predatory smile returned, and he bent to kiss her upper thigh.

  “Maybe, like I said, I should do it?”

  His fingertips slicked along her cleft, seeking her entrance, probing. Skin slipping on wet skin. Nothing mattered save the gentle separation of her inner lips, the press against the rim, the stretch as one finger was joined by another and another. Her clit engorged. She squirmed, panted.

  “You want to do this? Are you sure of that, Danii…” He stopped, poised to enter her properly. She could tell he’d barely made a fraction of an inch inside her tight entrance. Her vaginal muscles clenched, and she bit back a groan. “This way, it’s more enjoyable, for both of us. Don’t you agree?” He made little featherlight circles around her clit.

  The bastard. He knows I want those fingers deeper.

  “Maybe. Ahh. Will you—Yes, I agree. Yes!” She tried to arch again and found the rose stems had spread and anchored her to the ground. Her ankles also refused to move, for the same reason, she imagined. Rose thorns stabbed at her flesh, their miniscule stings sweeping down her like fiery goose bumps to merge with the touch of his fingers. Jesus. Faeries.

  “You enjoy tying me down?” she gasped out. Her body ached so. That he’d bound her launched her senses singing higher, screwed the tension tight as coiled steel. This was agony and ecstasy all in one roiling bundle. Now, she would have kicked him, if she were free.

  “Touch me!” she pleaded through clenched teeth. He seemed more interested in bemusedly observing the little signs of her struggles than doing or saying anything further. “Your fingers, your mouth—”

  “Say please.”

  “Ohh! You smug—” He removed his fingers, sat on his heels. She closed her eyes tight, opened them wide. “Please!” Then softer. “Please, touch me.”

  His mouth descended on her clit. His fingers shoved up inside her, and she felt them close over the egg. As they moved out again, the moist sucking on her clit wrenched her over the edge into an explosion that rocked her to the core, then thrummed outward again to every part of her body. Over and over, ad infinitum. He kept on sucking with the muscles of her thighs straining her toward his mouth until she finally groaned and relaxed, her body lying flat and limp on the ground. She let her thighs flop wide open, finding her strength had deserted her and left behind only quivering flesh. With a final lick that made her twitch and whimper, he removed his fingers and his mouth.

  “I have it,” he said softly.

  “Do you?” Barely focusing, she peeked at him through eyelashes. The egg glowed with light blue radiance. “Good…for you.” A quiet rustling accompanied the slow withdrawal of the stems holding her down. The bulge at Heketoro’s groin gave her a delicious, wanton idea. Dare she? Oh, yes, she did.

  “Leave my hands tied,” she whispered. That he’d heard, she knew. A startled yet appraising glance came her way.

  “Done.”

  It was way too late now to regret or fall back to her prior set-in-concrete stance. She liked this, more than she should, liked it an awful lot. She licked her lips.

  “I want to take you in my mouth,” she said, in a low voice.

  Desire darkened his eyes. “Are you certain?”

  She fluttered her eyes closed, opened, and let her tongue tip circle her lips.

  “Then so it shall be.”

  With his help, she got up onto her knees.

  She couldn’t stop looking as he undid all those ivory buttons. His cock stood out, straight as a mast. Already she could taste it.

  “Wait,” he said gruffly and bent to place his hands on her arms, staying still as he concentrated. The stems at her wrists shifted, dragging her hands back until they met in the small of her back. “More comfortable?’

  She didn’t answer, having better things to do. His cock bobbed near her lips. She stuck out her tongue and licked it from base to tip in one slow, wet stripe. His hands gripped her shoulder and the back of her head as if to guide her. Not that she needed any help.

  As he drew back his hips, she captured the tip of his penis in the circle of her lips and went down on him an inch, two inches. Back, to trail her tongue into the tiny slit at the very tip, then around the bottom of the glans. This time, he groaned. She couldn’t help smiling a little, though it made her teeth scrape at him.

  That her hands were tied at her back only enhanced the excitement of the act. She wanted to give him the same exquisite joy he’d given her.

  Making sure saliva wet the insides of her mouth, she sank down a little farther onto him, then all the way to the back of her throat, with her lips meeting his balls. She smelled his heavy musk scent.

  “Oh, yes,” he hissed. And he pulled out slowly and in again, setting a steady rhythm of thrust and withdraw, stretching her mouth, leaving a light salty taste in his wake. Now she lost control as he twined his hands in her hair to hold her where he wanted—pushing in and pulling out, slow as a tide.

  She looked up at him, delighted at the look of concentration on his face. She brought her tongue into play as much as she could—slipping along the shaft, doing a flick around the tip as he went to plunge back in.

  For a second, he gazed down at her with a fierce satisfied smile, as if surprised yet delighted to see her lips wrapped round his cock. She shivered, her eyelids lowering. Possession. In that moment, she was his.

  His urgency grew, though never enough to hurt her lips. Small grunts came interspersed with the rasp of his breaths. When his back arched and stiffened, she swallowed and swallowed again, taking him in that small amount farther. A thrill vibrated along his cock, and semen squirted into the back of her mouth. His legs shook. A guttural sound escaped him. The last spurt came, flooding her mouth and she tasted the thick liquid.

  When he slipped from her mouth, she sank lower, leaned her forehead alongside his leg while he rested his hands on her shoulders. They stayed that way, simply breathing in unison.

  Heketoro regarded the woman at his feet, her head bowed against his thigh, her hands tied at her back. A most erotic position. Where her hair curled on the side of her neck, he stirred it with his fingers. Such rapture he’d seen in her lust-hazed eyes, though he thought it likely his own had carried the same expression. She’d touched him with her spontaneous honesty. That she wanted to give him pleasure in this ultimate submissive way made him wish he was on Rarohenga, where such an act would automatically make her his chosen.

  He traced a line around her neck. The tattoo would naturally draw itself there on a chosen. Whether it would do so on Danii, he’d never come to know.

  The problems she faced in this world saddened him and made him want to gather them up into a ball and throw them far away from her. The death of her brother, the way the small and large agonies of her work bothered her—all of these he had little control over. That she faced them alone seemed, to his thoughts, to be what made her worries so insurmountable. Yet he couldn’t stay and be her rock, her companion in dark moments, as she needed, and as he found himself increasingly desiring…and he couldn’t take her with him.

  Here might be a stressful existence, but on Rarohenga the problems could be far more dangerous. Being away for a hundred years meant every piece of information and intelligence he had was rendered meaningless. His family had been a powerful force in the political arena. In all likelihood, they still were, despite his misfortunes, but he couldn’t be certain. Weakness drew
wolves.

  Here was safer for her. He couldn’t take her with him. And he heeded her argument. If he walked away now, after involving her, she’d feel guilt at his death. No matter that without his actions, she’d never have known or cared if he lived or died. But in the end, it must be her choice.

  The quietness in her head crept in so subtly. Danii was caught in contemplation of a universe that revolved around the two of them, and held there unknowing, simply existing and happy, leaning on him, breathing. When the time came that he moved and untangled her from the rose-stem bonds, it took a while for her eyes to truly see what they looked at.

  He pulled her to her feet and engulfed her in his embrace. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “You’ve changed.” She tilted her face up, and he kissed her.

  How could she be so content to merely look into his eyes?

  “I know. I liked doing that…with my hands tied. It was…” Though embarrassed, she felt compelled to tell him. “It was exciting.”

  From the glimmer in his intense gaze, she’d pleased him.

  “For me also.” He kissed her again. “Your shorts are still around your ankles. Allow me.” He squatted at her feet and pulled them up, carefully adjusting the fit.

  She rested her hand on his head as he did so, slowly patting his thick hair. The care he took made her feel like she glowed, like she had someone to keep by her side. It was a little crazy.

  She jolted back to reality. Because, after all, whichever way this worked out, he wouldn’t be here much longer.

  They lay down together on the pine needles, and her thoughts turned to morbid matters. Was he really going to just give up and die if she said no after all? It didn’t seem possible, or right. The toah was out of her, and she still wanted him as much as before.

  “I’ve been selfish,” he murmured. His warm breath stirred the hair at her nape. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. I thought I’d figured out all the risks, and that they were small. You suit me so well, respond so well to whatever I ask of you, and yet I didn’t count on Aroha becoming involved. I’m sorry.”

  She responded well? It sounded a little like a prize heifer being judged, and yet, somehow those words made her happy. He liked what she did. And, oh boy, she definitely liked what he did. Even though she didn’t know…why. She tried searching inside her thoughts, tried to figure out why she’d liked going to her knees while bound and taking his cock in her mouth. Even thinking about it made her hot.

  And still, she didn’t understand why. Except that this was her, without any of the facade and the pretending she usually hid behind in life. Doing this made her feel real.

  She wrenched herself back to what he’d said.

  “Don’t be sorry. Like I said before, I’m an adult. I can make my own decisions.” She blew out a hard breath. “And I have decided. I still want to help you.”

  “Wait!” He reached around and tapped her nose. “No. Too soon. Go home and give it some deeper thought, then decide.”

  She scowled. “How long should I wait then? I thought you only had two days?” She held his arm around her, tighter, not wanting to let him go.

  He nuzzled the side of her neck, then bit and moved down, marking a line from earlobe to collarbone with tiny kisses. “There’s something I may not have made clear before about the ritual.”

  She wriggled. Ridiculous, already her clit was hard as a button.

  “It’s a very arduous sexual rite. You wanted facts, then here is one: falter in the slightest during the rite, and you will suffer harm. There. Now you know.”

  “That’s it? Sex? Surely there’s more than that? I’ve let you do far more than I’ve ever allowed any other man.” She bit her lip. “I’d have castrated anyone else, come to think of it.”

  He chuckled deep in his throat, yanked on a lock of her hair. “I believe you. Here’s another fact. Harm may even mean death. Danii, think on this a great deal. This curse has stood for a hundred years. It’s not a minor thing that will vanish at the wave of your hand. Go home. Think on it. But I won’t blame you if you decide that no is your best answer.”

  “I thought you said the risk was small?”

  “In a way, yes. As long as you obey me, nothing will harm you during the ritual. Aroha is the uncontrollable part to all this. I can’t predict what she will think or do anymore. She may not understand that if you die, so will she."

  Danii chewed on her thumbnail before rolling over so they were face-to-face. “Then I see no problem. I can do this, obey. If it’s that important. For life or death, I can obey.”

  “Consider this. Are you sure there’s no part of your body that’s off-limits?” He slid a hand down to the crack in her bottom, watching her closely as he did so. “There’s nothing I could ask you that won’t have you screaming out no?”

  She reddened, feeling the heat spreading across her face—silly considering their intimacy. “Ah. I’m sure.” Screaming out no? He meant anal sex? Maybe that made her nervous as she’d not exactly gone beyond using anal plugs before, so a little daunting, but surely it couldn’t be all that—Or was there something else?

  “Even so, there’s still Aroha. Think hard on what I’ve said. Now.” He released her, and she sat up. “Here is the egg. Keep it with you, close to your body, otherwise it will become useless. If…if you decide to help me, it has to be reinserted.”

  She nodded and let him roll the egg onto her palm. Its strange blueness vanished, leaving only the woodlike exterior. She heaved a sigh and untangled her legs, stood and stepped away from him, feeling as if she’d left part of herself behind. At the last, he caressed her ankle, then let her loose.

  Pretending calmness, she dusted herself off before picking up Killer’s lead. “Good-bye.”

  He nodded, unsmiling. “You can go to your car safely. I’ll watch for Aroha.”

  “Right.” She wanted to say something more—words that would mean she could justify staying longer.

  “Wait.” He held a small green leaf. “Take this. If you need me again, or if Aroha bothers you, just whisper my name over it. This will find me.”

  The leaf looked like any other, but it rolled across the ground to her feet, blowing in an unseen wind. She leaned over, picked the leaf up, and tucked it in the pocket at the back of her shorts.

  “Farewell,” he said. “Remember what I told you. You have no need to help me.”

  “Good-bye.” She found her brow wrinkling and shook her head, though unsure why, then turned and walked away.

  Chapter Eight

  Once out from under the weeping willows, she found the nearest tree trunk and leaned on it a while, waiting for her pulse to stop hammering.

  More time had passed than seemed possible, though a few latecomers still walked their dogs or strolled arm-in-arm with their lovers. Among them, in the distance, she recognized Bug Lady, the university researcher in her galoshes and her neat yellow sunglasses, despite the lateness of the day.

  The sun, on the verge of setting, gleamed from behind the stand of trees on the island. Shafts of light lanced between the trunks and through the mass of leaves at the top. The shadows lower down, at ground level, shifted and squirmed, seeming to exude something ominous—as if alien creatures wormed about within the blackness. The hairs rose on her arms. She straightened, straining to see into those shadows.

  Determined not to let the island spook her, Danii stayed there, watching and waiting, sure something momentous was about to occur.

  Nothing did, and Heketoro didn’t come after her.

  The sun softened to a muted orange glow on the horizon. She let her gaze drop and shook her head, glancing at her watch. Nearly six o’clock. “Let’s go home, Killer.” Her voice was husky from disuse.

  Loneliness crowded in on her as she drove back. How could you get so miserable about missing someone who wasn’t even human? Ah, but he was a damned big, stunning hunk of faerie. No man had ever kissed her like that or given her orgasms that rivaled what he could do.

 
; Out of habit, and because she needed to occupy her brain, she shifted the facts she’d been told around in her head. Retelling them, rolling them about, fitting things together. What sort of police officer would she be if she took everything at face value? Besides, he was the one who’d told her to think hard. Faeries might be real, but that didn’t mean they told the truth. Especially Aroha, and maybe even Heketoro.

  He didn’t act like a man about to die.

  Perhaps, after a hundred years, he’d grown accustomed to the idea. Still, if she was his last hope, why try to stop her helping? Wasn’t it worth trying anyway? What did he have to lose?

  Me. She almost ran off the road as she forgot to look, focusing inward. Me. He’d said as much; it just hadn’t sunk in. Like the first domino to fall in a line, that brought other thoughts slotting into place. The time as a nine-year-old when she nearly drowned—there’d been a man who pulled her from the water. His words yesterday: “despite always trying to drown yourself.” Always. Why say that? Did he know about the previous accident? It could be the same lake, though she wasn’t certain. They’d lived not far from here when she was nine.

  Another incident came to her, but this one was even less sure. The ex-con with the kidnap kit who’d collapsed outside her bedroom window—the doctors had diagnosed water intoxication—a strange and rare condition. Could Heketoro have had something to do with that also? Had he been looking out for her all those years? If so, it was as if he thought her something worthwhile. Only, she knew she was nothing worth getting excited about, just a worn-out cop.

  She pictured Heketoro, and the contrast made her feel like weeping. He wanted her to think this over, because she might get hurt? Well, hurt didn’t bother her as much as dying. Could it get that bad? Would Aroha go as far as that? Or maybe during the ritual she would, after all, fail to obey during the rite. She knew she’d happily volunteer for some hurt if there was a chance to keep him alive. Dying though…was another matter entirely.