They both thrust into her at once. The rhythm reverberated. They pounded up into her. Pumping, surging, rocking her flesh.
She heard her grunting animal noises and could do nothing to hold them in. “Mmm. Uhh. Mmm.”
Every moment forced her higher. They filled her with cock and fingers—a seesaw of sweaty, sticky lovemaking. With ropes and flesh and their will, they held her in thrall.
Like a minivolcano placed right over the top of her most sensitive part, Tansu’s mouth swallowed up her clit.
So hot. A woman’s mouth on her. Tongue on her. Oh, that tongue. Dankyo inside her ass. Her mind shuttled through all the dirty, glorious, sexual things they did.
The licking, the multiple thrusts, the way they both took her as if it was their right, it flung her higher. Her nipples and breasts, her very skin hungered, and crammed to bursting.
I’m taken, filled. My body is theirs.
A last flat-tongued lick swept over her clitoris. Ecstasy blasted through her. She screamed and hung in limbo, her torso undulating, her muscles and mind claimed by the primitive instincts of sex. Neck and back arched, Sofia gasped, and rapture washed her away. Blackness tumbled in.
The room was lost, floating somewhere in space beyond her limbs. She sagged, limp, unable to do more than breathe.
Sofia was dimly aware of the ropes being untied and of someone placing her on the bed. People touched her, moved her, soothed her with words. She made her eyelids open and saw Tansu looking down at her.
“Thank you,” Tansu whispered.
She smiled, then wafted away into the floating place again. Someone cuddled up behind her. Another, softer, person snuggled in front. She sighed and fell into the warmth of sleep. Loved. It was the best…
* * * *
Dankyo woke when the bed moved. Tansu was getting out of bed.
He raised his head, careful not to jar Sofia who was nestled into the gap between his arm and chest. “Tansu.” He waved her over.
“Sir?” She hesitated, her clothes in hand, then came to his side of the bed. “Yes?”
“Are you okay?” Around her eyes was dark, but apart from that he could see no signs of stress. Yet while they’d made love to Sofia, her passions had come to the fore.
“Yes, sir. Thank you.” Then she bent and took his hand and kissed it. “Thank you. I’m very grateful.”
“You’re welcome.”
A gorgeous woman, the sway of her naked ass as she walked to the door would entice any man. He hoped she saw the truth here—that this would never happen again. That was logic, though. Emotions were harder to control.
The deep black of her hair and olive tone of her skin meant she was likely a slave born somewhere near Byzantium. Pity surfaced. He dismissed it. Nothing to be done. I can’t rescue slaves from the emperor-bey.
Damn, though. Damn.
He ran through everything in his mind, especially that little interview he’d done the day before to see whether joining him and Sofia was to her taste. The lack of body clues from Tansu seemed a little strange. Her desire for Sofia was genuine, yet she had the schooled reactions of someone trained not to show her feelings. The result of years in the harem? Perhaps.
Whatever her reasons, seeing her tangled with his little Sofia and eliciting pleasure from her, licking between her thighs, that was a memory to treasure.
He turned to his beautiful lady and smiled, then lay back down and gently pulled her close.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Her little good-bye to Dankyo was still on her mind when she arrived at the Clock Warrior. When her escort had come to their room, Dankyo had opened the door and stood ramrod straight, trying to be all stiff and correct. She paused there, before stepping over the threshold. The look in his eyes—she couldn’t read him, until his hand smoothed down her back, and an eyebrow twitched.
He’s worried.
Well, there was something she could do for him. She went up on her toes, put her palm to his cheek, and kissed him. “I’ll be back soon.” She rested her head on his chest and slid her hand down to hug him. The officials could wait. “Mmm. You smell so good.”
“You too, my lady.”
And they’d hugged for a moment, breathing together.
At the memory, she couldn’t stop the small upward curve of her lips and ducked her head a moment. Then she looked about.
The parade of people accompanying the emperor-bey was daunting. Thirty people at least, including Xiang, and Tansu, and all arrayed in a semicircle before the entrance to the Clockwork Warrior’s sanctum. The sun gleamed down through the high glass ceiling, and the birds above cast flitting winged shadows across the grass. Even the janissary who’d commanded her to have slave training was here, dressed in some finery that gleamed with rich gold and purple embroidery, and with his beard perfectly pruned.
What a horrible man. She’d thought him not privy to the emperor-bey’s secret, thought he’d been unaware of her true place in all of this. But he must have known then that she was no slave. Head of the Household Garden, someone had called him? Arrogant bastard. Byzantium seemed full of those. She stifled a yawn and looked about, spotted Tansu kneeling to the left of the official droning on about how this was an auspicious occasion.
Some secret. Half the emperor-bey’s court must know. And here she’d thought this would be a low-key affair.
When she had awoken that afternoon, Tansu had already gone. And she hadn’t seen her again until the woman arrived at their room to escort her here. The five palace guards accompanying Tansu had made conversing about anything personal an impossibility. So she’d merely sent her a concerned glance and left it at that.
Somehow, she needed to say farewell after the ceremony. Since Dankyo had arranged for them to leave as soon as the emperor-bey allowed them to, the chance of talking properly to Tansu seemed slim.
But the woman deserved something. It was clear to both her and Dankyo that she held some deep affection for Sofia. Leaving without saying good-bye would be awful.
“Miss Sofia White.”
Oops. The expectant look on the face of the official calling her, and the irritated one upon the emperor-bey’s made her wonder if she’d missed the first call.
The door to the glasshouse sat open, and four guards waited within. Just as she’d requested. And everyone was watching her.
She heaved in a deep breath. “Time to begin.” What a pity Dankyo had not been allowed in. How much she’d come to lean on him in such a short time. But, I like it that way. And she couldn’t help smiling to herself as she was ushered through the door. This was her big day, and she was thinking of returning to him, her wonderful lover, as much as she was of the clockwork puzzle.
“Can you begin? Do you need notes?” The emperor-bey stood beside her, looking up at the warrior.
“I don’t need notes. It’s up here.” She touched her forehead. “But yes, I can begin, Your Serenity.” Of course I can. She shut her eyes for a second. The facts and many diagrams she’d done shuffled to the forefront of her mind.
“Then do so.” He retreated to the glass wall, and the four guards stepped up.
Concentrate. Begin. The first step in the process. The color code of the mosaic. But before that—the first key. She climbed onto the plinth, searched for, and found the place among the spines of his head. She turned this first one no more than a fraction of an inch, then did another spine, then the next. All precisely as foretold. The last time, a spine clicked and turned a full circle on its base. Yes. Oh my God. It’s working.
She climbed down, only shaking a tiny bit. Then with a slow deliberate step, she went around the periphery of the warrior, pressing at the correct colored tiles. They moved where they never could have before. A loud clunk sounded from within the warrior. Something spun with a metal-on-metal click.
“There. Follow my instructions.” She waved the men forward.
At her direction, they turned a segment of an arm. The warrior leaned backward by half a foot. The wat
ching crowd gasped.
Within half an hour, she had lowered him until his back was only a few degrees from fully lying on the ground. The manipulations had left the guards sweating, the crowd restless, and she was almost sure her eyes would be glowing. Amazing and several swear words had popped up inside her head every few minutes. Nothing went wrong. Nothing.
The warrior lay flat on his back. The sword had lifted from inside his torso and ran horizontally, having revealed another several foot of its length.
I’m right. I am so damn right. “The last permutation,” she announced, proud her voice barely trembled.
From the massed crowd, Sofia picked out Tansu. The woman looked so grim. Poor woman. I have to talk to her. If only she could be freed. The contrast between their circumstances had become so vast it left a chasm inside her soul.
Slavery was a cursed thing. She liked being able to choose. I can walk away, though. Tansu cannot. The terrible realization cast a shadow on the ceremony.
But this is why I am here. She tore her thoughts from Tansu’s plight. I must finish what I began.
The emperor-bey came forward and peered at the warrior. “I never thought this would be the result. What will happen? What will this next step reveal?”
Sofia swallowed, her throat dry, her heart beating fast enough to outpace a gazelle.
“I don’t know. I only know the steps.”
“Ah.” He nodded. “Then I will wait outside. Xiang will stay to watch.”
He thought it could be dangerous. That had never occurred to her. I suppose…it could be possible. No. I finish this. She didn’t really believe there would be danger.
The last manipulation was hers. The hands still clasped the pommel of the sword. She ran a finger over the cool metal and stone, then took each hand and turned them outward at the same time. The vibrations of whirring clockwork joints came through to her fingers. Slowly, the sword slid an inch, two inches, three, toward the feet of the warrior, and a cavity rose from within the warrior’s chest. Inside the cavity lay a small pale blue book on a silver-colored metal grill.
The hands clicked and halted and refused to turn any farther.
Done. I have done it. Grinning, she looked back at the awestruck crowd, then waved to the emperor-bey.
Xiang leaned in, peered at the book, and sniffed. “Is that it?”
“Should I pick up the book? Or would you rather?” It wasn’t smoking or ticking, was it?
“This?” Casually, Xiang reached in and plucked the book from its little shrine. She paused as if waiting to see what would happen, and when nothing did, she tossed the book to Sofia.
She fumbled but managed not to drop it.
“Is that it?” The emperor-bey’s question echoed Xiang’s.
“Yes, Your Serenity.” Palms together with the book lying across them, she reverently held out the book.
“Well.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Read it, then. Are there plans for more warriors? Real ones? Not just”—he waved at the Clockwork Warrior—“ones who lie there. You know, I thought there would be some proper soldiers.” The querulous rise in his voice alarmed Sofia.
What fools these are. A centuries-old puzzle is solved after mountains of work, and they dismiss it. She bent her head and opened the book, turned the pages. One hundred pages. Poetry?
“Well? Are there diagrams?”
“No.” She looked up. “No, Your Serenity. This is a book of poetry. There is a chance this may conceal more clues however. Might I copy this? So I can study it when I return to my university?”
He regarded her steadily for seven or eight seconds. “Yes. You may. Now.” He beckoned, and the janissary approached. “I wish this area to be cleared. I will officially reward Miss White at the Garden of Audiences in one hour. Thank you for your work, Miss White.” He smiled. “You have done well.”
Have I? It didn’t seem as if anyone appreciated what she’d done at all. She sighed. Blast. At least I get a copy of the book to take home with me. And I get the prestige of having solved this.
And…she got to go home with Dankyo. That seemed a far larger reward than she deserved. The fates had been kind to her in at least one aspect.
The one disappointment was that when she arrived at their room, Dankyo had already been taken away to bathe. The efficiency of the palace meant she had to wait to see him at the Garden of Audiences.
She sighed and looked around the empty room. He’d know she had succeeded with the Clockwork Warrior and she’d wanted to tell him herself.
Can’t be helped.
She shrugged off the inconvenience and managed to still have a smile on her face as they led her up the granite steps to the high plateau of the audience area. A brisk wind swept across, rattling the trees. Opposite her, at the end of a corridor of armored warriors, the emperor-bey sat on his throne. To his left, Xiang stood beside the throne, resplendent in armor and black.
Dry leaves skittered across the path before her as she took the final step.
To the right, behind a tall metal fence that resembled a giant bird cage, Henry’s copy of the Clockwork Warrior had been installed. As the hour rang on some distant clock, the warrior came to life and began a series of tremendous sword strikes. The rush of the air split by his sword sounded like the tearing of silk, or the swoop of a giant bird’s wing.
She recognized one of the katas Dankyo had taught her—a precise sequence of moves, perfectly executed by this clockwork automaton. Spectacular. Joints creaked and spun, machinery whirred, but for something so big, he was terribly quiet. Henry had designed him to change the katas each hour. She could see the attraction for the emperor-bey—this nineteen-year-old man who’d had his childhood cut short by the demands of his office. Truly, this was an appropriate gift for the ruler of a nation.
She smiled down the long corridor of men at the emperor-bey. He raised his hand and smiled back. Something about the set of his mouth and eyes jolted her. Even at that distance, she saw the grim satisfaction—it was the sort of smile you expect on a man who sees something he’s always wanted on sale for the first time in many years.
A hand clamped around her right wrist. The guard there held her. The grip was tight enough to hurt.
“Hey!” She turned to remonstrate with him. While she was in midturn, her left wrist was captured. With an angry hiss, scowling, she glanced to the other. “You can’t—”
The man behind her came up close and jammed something hard and rod-like across her mouth, forcing it between her teeth. She spit and tried to throw her head about, but they held her. Though she struggled and screamed as much as she could, they dragged her to the throne.
Panting, her hair in wild strands across her face, with spit dribbling past the metal gag, she glared at the emperor-bey.
He leaned forward and examined her, smiling. “You’re pretty. Though not so much when you get yourself all disturbed. But, I think I’ll keep you.”
“Your Serenity—” Xiang took a pace forward.
“No.” He held up his hand. “I’ve decided. You get the man. It is enough.”
Though she hesitated, Xiang bowed. “Yes, of course.”
The hate in Xiang’s eyes shocked Sofia into stillness. She wanted to do something. Anything. This was ridiculous, but she couldn’t speak. While she’d fought, she must have cried, though she hadn’t known it. Now her nose was blocked and threatened to run. She sniffed, listened to her racing heart and the scouring drag of her breathing past the metal. And couldn’t even wipe her nose, because they held her.
Not good. Oh God, this is so not good.
What was happening? Why? Had failing to give the emperor-bey what he wanted caused this?
“Over there. Tie her down.” He pointed to the right.
Sofia tried to choke out a word. Her tongue touched the bit, and the sound came out as a half grunt.
“What?” He put his hand to his ear.
Hand on the pommel of her sword, Xiang leaned in. “I think she is saying why, Your Sereni
ty.”
“Ahh.” He flourished his hand. “Well. You must explain, then.”
With tremors rippling through her, and her wrists still held by the guards, Sofia waited. This was important. Perhaps, if she knew, she could tell them how wrong they were. This was some awful terrible stupid mistake.
In three casual strides, Xiang came to her, then poised a fingernail under her chin and made Sofia lift her head. “The reason is this. You remember the man I could not decide whether to kill or take to my bed?
Oh God. She knew this was headed somewhere bad. Not Dankyo. It couldn’t be. She tried to drop her gaze, but Xiang took her chin in a cruel grip. Her fingernails wedged in and cut.
“No. Look at me! Your Dankyo is the reason. He left me to die many years ago. Deserted me after he promised…” Red suffused Xiang’s face. Her teeth showed as she spat the words. “He promised to be with me, to help me, to keep me from harm! He left me to die.
“I will. Make. Him. Suffer.” The anger made her eyes seem to glisten and swell from their sockets.
Then she released Sofia’s chin and went to step back.
Now or never. Something made her do it. She kicked Xiang in the crotch, her toes glancing off hard-muscled thigh. It mightn’t have done much, but she grinned around the gag and slobbered out, “Gotchu. Ha-ha.”
The sword appeared as if by magic before her. The point quivered an inch from her mouth.
“Don’t!” The emperor-bey’s voice. “Don’t. Have her stripped and tied down. Now!”
There wasn’t much else she managed to do after that, though she tried and threw herself about as much as she could. She was one woman against many men. Despite using every muscle she could bring to bear, they tore off her clothes and bound her with her arms above her head to a curved metal bench.
While she was still sucking in air, gasping and choking, Xiang’s face loomed in above, blocking out the sky.
“There. Better. You are lucky. Instead of me torturing you endlessly, you are to become one of the harem. Your lover is coming here now.” A ring of gold sat on her fingertip, glinting. “All you have to do is sit still and get this put in.”
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