Marked for Surrender [Marked 4]

by Jennifer Leeland

  Zevon lowered her to the floor, and she fell on her stomach. Facedown, she might have risen, except Christophe pressed his feet into her wrists, holding her still. Zevon whipped her two more times. She humped the floor, seeking relief.

  "You came without permission,” he said in hard voice. All around them, chaos had erupted. But he was going to teach this sub a lesson she'd never forget: Don't top from the bottom.

  "You've forgotten two things.” He lashed her again, and she cried out, pain now outweighing pleasure. “First, I will decide when you come. Second, you are here for our pleasure.” Zevon jerked her head up by her hair and made her look at Christophe.

  On cue, Christophe stroked his cock three times and came all over the woman's back. The crowd went wild, many of them orgasming in response.

  "P-p-please, Master,” she whispered.

  "When you say my name, say it louder, or I'll make you bleed."

  "Please, Master,” she shouted.

  "What, sub? I can't let you come. You did that yourself.” He crouched in front of her, his cock hard, and she stared at it hungrily.

  "Fuck me. Use me. Please,” she shouted.

  He leaned down next to her ear and said, “No."

  A cacophony of sound filled his ears, drowning out her screams of frustration. Suddenly men were on the stage, pushing their way toward them.

  He glanced at the blond soldier who had released Andia and held her upright. The man glanced toward a small opening in the floor to the right of the stage.

  Christophe gripped the dark-haired woman's arm and yanked her up. Zevon strode toward Andia. When the blond man let her go, he whispered something to her, and her head snapped up.

  Before she could respond, he had crossed the stage and grabbed the dark-haired woman. He shoved her toward the nearest soldier who had breached the stage, and the woman was impaled on his cock.

  Another man moved in; the blond soldier did nothing to stop him. This man drove his dick into the woman's ass. They frantically fucked her, and she twisted like a tattered kite between them.

  The soldier glanced at Zevon and mouthed the word go.

  Christophe, Zevon, and Andia slid into the opening and slammed it shut. They were in an air duct and had to move quietly. The chaos on the ship helped as they maneuvered their way through a maze of ducts, peering through vents to figure out where they were.

  Finally, they reached the shuttle bay. Andia's shuttle was there, and no guards were present. They broke out of the air duct and sprinted for the shuttle.

  Christophe halted briefly as they climbed aboard. “But what about Leo Eyler?” he asked.

  Andia glanced back over her shoulder. “That blond soldier was Leo Eyler."

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  Chapter Fourteen

  Back in her pilot's seat, Andia knew Leo had it all planned neatly. Sharana, his submissive, had betrayed him, giving information to Commander Adawan. So Leo had used her, setting her up to take the blame for the escape of the fascinating Nyral threesome.

  He'd said nothing about how she was going to save Christophe and Zevon or how to stop Rina the Assassin. But, on that stage, he'd revealed something about herself she hadn't known. Andia had gotten off on the public sexual play. She'd liked the rougher elements of his domination. And she'd been insanely aroused by Zevon's mean Dom with Sharana.

  Now, back on the shuttle, with a healthy distance between them and the Primarians, she had a chance to consider it all. She'd almost been reluctant to let Christophe and Zevon dress, but understood they wanted to fly with their clothes on.

  Right before they'd escaped, Leo had whispered one phrase, one she knew. It was a series of numbers and letters that marked a classified file for the Nyral council. She needed a computer hub.

  The nearest planet that could provide it was Sethos Five. But there were risks to going there. Sethos Five was a pleasure planet, and they took that title very seriously, to the point of auctioning-off-unattached-females seriously. But she was marked, so she was safe. She hoped.

  "Sethos Five,” she said aloud to her two mates.

  "What did he whisper to you?” Zevon asked.

  "It's a file. I don't know what it is, and I have to find out."

  Christophe nodded. “Computer hub. Sethos Five is the best.” His light blue eyes swerved to study her. “It will attract attention."

  He was right. Sethos Five was a gathering place for the rich, famous, the infamous, the criminal, the extreme sexual seeker looking for a thrill, and tons of vid streamers. She bit her lip. There was going to be difficult to hide there. They would have to be careful. .

  She smiled. “I guess we have to hope that whatever is in that file will be enough to stop Pavlik."

  Zevon shook his head. “No, Mistress. I won't—"

  She placed her fingers on his lips. “You called me Mistress. Do you have any idea how sexy that is?"

  "Yes. Since I feel the same way when I hear Christophe say it.” His dark eyes churned with emotion. “Or when I hear you say Master."

  "I'm disappointed that Leo didn't insist you demonstrate your skills on me,” she joked. “Though two things made me burn while I watched.” She stroked Zevon's chin. “One was watching the darker edge of your dominance. I don't think you let it out much.” She gripped his face and held his gaze. “I can take that dom, Zevon. I want that dom."

  She released his chin and turned to Christophe. “And two, I hadn't seen your skill as a dominant. Stoic, silent, and talented. I'm still going to make you pay for it."

  Christophe swallowed, a beautiful undulation of the muscles of his throat. “Then I guess it's good that Sethos Five is a pleasure planet."

  "Good for me,” she said, her voice dark with seductive promise. “Not for you."

  Zevon grinned as Christophe shuddered. Alive. They were alive. And hopefully on the right track to stopping Pavlik.

  They flew the shuttle to the surface. They didn't transmit their real identities when they landed, but authorities had accepted the lies they told. Sethos Five had a lot of humans named Smith land on their planet. This was a pleasure planet, easy to access and asked few questions.

  When they reached the shuttle bay, all three of them automatically headed for the hovertaxi stand.

  "I have an account at one of the clubs, but I've rarely been here,” Andia said reluctantly. She didn't want to relinquish control, but she knew Zevon had visited Sethos Five before.

  Zevon nodded. He obtained a hovertaxi for them and gave the driver an address. Andia leaned back in the vehicle's plush seat and sighed. It was a unique experience to be with company when she traveled.

  The few vacations she'd taken and her trips to the capitol city were all solo ventures, done on her own terms. Now she had two other personalities to consider.

  She wasn't interested in the busy streets and byways of Sethos Five. Unlike most planets, Sethos Five had no other cities, no other places on its surface. The city center expanded across the huge block of continent that stretched over half the planet's area. Rivers, lakes, and marshes delineated separate sections of the city, but it didn't create distance. Instead, Sethos Five was one unending maze of high-rises, pleasure clubs, and conference centers.

  The hotel Zevon chose was massive, rising at least fifty stories into the sky. It was built like a blocky pyramid, the first floor a huge square and the next floor slightly smaller on top of it. It created a tiered look that dominated the skyline. Its name, the Haven, was in cursive silver letters twisted from metal, and glittered in the city lights.

  The primary colors were black and silver, the contrast of the two catching the eye. Black leather, spiked collars, and stiff crops were everywhere.

  When she stepped into the lobby, she thought she'd walked into a BDSM club dungeon. On either side of the walls in the foyer were rooms behind glass where patrons presented artistic views of sexual fetish. In one a man slowly slid his tongue over the bare foot of a small, petite blonde. In another, a tall Ama
zonian woman held a man's face to the floor with her foot pushing a dildo deep in his ass, his cock huge and aroused.

  Andia licked her lips. Zevon had chosen well. What truly amused her were the decorations. The Haven apparently celebrated Christmas using Old Earth traditions but with a slight twist of their own.

  There was a huge Christmas tree in the corner of the lobby. The color scheme was black and white with the tree branches flocked to resembled snow-encrusted pine. Black glowlights glittered and twinkled. Silver handcuffs and miniature black floggers dangled from the ends of the branches.

  Splashes of color from the red ribbon and green lighting broke up the black-and-white monopoly, but the overarching visual impact was of a clean, controlled environment. Andia was in heaven.

  The three approached the hotel check-in counter. They produced their handhelds with the new, false information, and the clerk didn't even blink. Andia guessed as long as the credits were good, no one would care about their names.

  The eye candy in this place almost made her forget why they were there. Puppy boys on leashes and Dommes with stern expressions mingled freely with female submissives who were dressed in normal clothing, their demeanor the only clue to what they were.

  Andia had visited clubs both on Nylar and other planets, but this...this was a feast for her starving soul. During her time on the computer, she read of the existence of communities dedicated to kink, to open sexuality, no bias, no judgment. Yet this was her first experience with one.

  Zevon's hand under her arm brought her back to reality. She was what here? A fem domme? A female sub? She reached out to place a firm hand on Christophe's shoulder. The looks she noticed from others weren't curious about what she was. They were admiring, hungry.

  They reached their room, and Zevon slid his handheld over the lock. Inside the room was spacious with a large sectional sofa that curved around a sunken section. There were no doors and three large beds. One would have held all three of them, but Zevon had given them the choice to sleep alone. The signature black and white was emphasized by the white carpet and the black leather couch. All the electronics were black, and the full bar in the corner had white gleaming fluted glasses.

  It was sumptuous, seductive. Her senses drowned in the subtle messages of sex, pain, and dominance. Though Leo Eyler and Zevon had both accessed her submissive side, it was her dominant side that responded now.

  As if Zevon and Christophe knew, they waited, still, quiet. She smiled. “I'm going to change. I want you both naked when I come back out."

  She strode to the bathroom and opened her bag of tricks. In keeping with the surroundings, she shook out a black dress made of shimmery material that clung to her skin. The V-neck hugged her tits and made her hardened nipples easy to see through the sheer material. Not many of her dresses fit so easy in her bag, but this one was small and compact, one of the few she had taken with her from Muan.

  When she checked her face in the mirror, she tsk-tsked. She'd fixed her makeup for her session with Leo Eyler, but since they'd escaped, she hadn't seen what a wreck her face had become.

  Quickly she washed her face and started over. Most women would see makeup as a mask or even a burden. But Andia considered it a prop, much like the dress. A light touch with purples or pinks and a submissive would relax, reading a softness in her that might—or might not—be there. Heavy black liner and sharp angles made a submissive nervous.

  Tonight she wanted to befuddle. So she chose a pink glittery dusting of eye shadow on her lids that would gleam in the glowlight. She angled her rouge to emphasize her high cheekbones and sharpen her facial features. Black mascara, shimmering rose lipstick, and no eyeliner gave the impression she wanted.

  Black knee-high boots with a zipper up the side screamed fem domme, but her hair loose and flowing down her back would imply softness. She smiled in the mirror and turned toward the door.

  Regardless of what would happen, she would have this moment. No one had made her feel as accepted as these two men had. Dominant or submissive, Mistress Ball Breaker or Mistress Andia, they accepted her.

  When she stepped into the room, the sight of them almost made her cry.

  Zevon and Christophe had stripped as she'd instructed, but they'd gone a step further. Both were in the center of the sunken section of the main room on their knees, hands clasped behind their backs.

  Christophe's head was bent, and his gaze was riveted to the floor, though she noted he peeked when she came in. His increased breathing revealed he liked what he saw. That, and his cock standing at attention.

  Zevon's head was raised, and he stared steadily at the wall in front of him, his dark eyes stormy, almost angry. He did not look at her when she came into the room. Interesting.

  She stepped down the two small steps that took her into the sunken section. Power pulsed through her. No matter what Pavlik tried, no matter what the Primarians tried, no one could rob her of this. It wasn't the raw control that her prisoners had sought and ultimately lost. It was a subtle flow of electricity that had no beginning and no end.

  Control was part of it. She took a deep, cleansing breath before she planted herself in front of Zevon. He couldn't help lifting his eyes to meet hers, and the turmoil there only spurred her on.

  Andia didn't need to read his mind. He was no submissive, he thought. His very nerves were jangled by the position he was in. Probably he believed Christophe was better suited as a sub, his head perfectly bowed and his muscles taut and ready.

  The Mistress in her adored Christophe's energy, his ability to submit to her before she entered the room. The woman in her adored Zevon's defiance and strength, his willingness to bend to please her. Didn't he realize she wanted it all? She wanted Zevon's reluctance and Christophe's surrender. It was a powerful mixture of give-and-take she had tasted in Muan and wanted more.

  "You belong to me.” She let her scrutiny flow over Zevon, studying the shadow and light that danced over his skin. His mate mark glowed a fiery red, a beacon of their connection and mirrored by the identical mark on Christophe.

  Zevon made no comment, but he stared at her defiantly. She nodded. It was expected. A dom who could access the kind of dominance she'd seen on the Primarian ship would have to be coaxed into submission every time.

  And that made her hot.

  She knew the key to his surrender. One of her treasured “tools” was a flogger with long, leather strands that were knotted at the end. It was perfect for what she had in mind.

  Once she had it in her hand, she had to force her own desire, her intensity down. She ran the handle across Christophe's chest. “And you're mine.” He shuddered but remained still. “You don't like pain that much, but you'll take it for me, for Zevon.” Her glance flicked to Zevon, who had turned his head to stare at her. “He'll like it, but he'll fight it, because he doesn't let go easily, though it's the only thing he wants."

  Confusion swirled in Zevon's brown eyes, a hesitant expression that made Andia's heart clench. She stepped back and readied the whip.

  "Is pain the only weapon in your arsenal?” Zevon quipped.

  Ah, he was going to let her truly dominate him. To speak broke the rules he knew very well. Without comment, she turned back to her bag and produced a ball gag.

  His eyes narrowed. “I'm not—"

  "You are,” she snapped. He swallowed, an anxious movement of his throat that made her want to purr. To keep him on edge, to drive him inward—those were her real weapons. When he showed signs that he'd lost his iron control, the heat within her spiked.

  She stepped in front of him, his glare focused on her face. When she gripped his hair and jerked his head back, his eyes widened slightly and his lips parted. She pressed her body against his and bent down to slide her tongue over his mouth. He strained to increase the pressure, to control the kiss.

  Her fingers slipped between their mouths and stretched him. Before he could do anything, she slipped the ball gag in his mouth and clicked it closed at the back of his he
ad.

  He shook his head like a horse in the bridle for the first time, the whites of his eyes bright and visible. When he gasped for breath, she rubbed her lips over his cheeks, down his neck, then lower to his nipples. She bit the sensitive flesh, and he moaned. His cock strained toward her.

  His animalistic snarl when she backed away only made her wetter, hotter. “Stay still,” she ordered. “Or I will truss you up like a pig."

  Christophe's arousal was clear, his cock leaking fluid. She had them both where she wanted them.

  This time, when she retrieved the flogger from the armrest of the couch, there was no hesitation. She swung it hard, wanting the full strength of her arm to get their attention immediately.

  Christophe hissed but remained rooted in place. Zevon made no sound, but his body froze and Andia knew she had him. Her second swing made Christophe jerk. Zevon heaved a deep breath. The third and fourth snapped loudly, even louder than the men's labored breathing. Five. Six. They would wear her bruises just as she wore the blazing comet on her arm, the mark that throbbed from her desperate need.

  She stopped but only to torment them, to rub her nipples over Christophe's chest and her fingernails across Zevon's cheek. When Zevon's dark eyes narrowed, glaring at her, she produced a set of nipple clamps and met his gaze calmly.

  His jaw flexed. Nipple clamps. Submissive toys. He didn't like it—she could read it as if he'd said the words—but he'd like the sensation, the bite of their teeth on his skin. “Haven't you used these on Christophe?” she said in a purring tone. “Oh that's right,” she whispered in his ear. “You can't talk."

  He growled, muffled from the ball gag but clear to her. She smiled and opened the first clamp. His muscles tensed, and she sensed his desire to run, to stand up, to push her down. But he didn't.

  When the clamp pinched his flesh, he hissed and squirmed. She reached down and pumped his cock. “Mine. All of it is mine. What did you say to me? You told me I could pound your ass with a strap-on.” She slid her tongue up his neck to his chin, tasting salt, reveling in the flavor of him. “I plan to do that and much, much more."