Surrender

by Alvania Scarborough

  "It is keyed to my voice alone. Try to go through it and it will render you unconscious. Lights on.” Inside the dome formed by the shield, darkness gave way to a diffuse glow.

  Darias removed his heavy black cloak, and slung the garment over a bush.

  Riana backed up a pace, but was only too aware she had no place to run.

  He turned to her with a look of determination. “Remove your clothes."

  Chapter Two

  She stood there, panic in her ice-green eyes. Her hands clenched and unclenched by her sides as if she wasn't quite sure whether to flee or lash out in a futile attempt to stop him.

  Good. Finally, she understood the enormity of her error. Mayhap, his life could get back to normal.

  Her gently-rounded chin came up and determination filled her eyes, replacing the fear.

  Admiration for her strength of will caught Darias by surprise.

  He didn't want to admire her willfulness. She disrupted the lives of his men with her offworlder ways.

  She disrupted his life.

  All he could think about when he was around her was the softness of her skin, her quick mind, the way she always smelled faintly of flowers. He could not control his reaction to her. When he was away from her, all he could think of was burying his face in her hair while he buried his cock in her warm body.

  The woman was dangerous. She had to learn to accept the ways of Nexar. She had to learn to accept her place in his life. It was regretful that meant subduing her fiery spirit, but temper it he would ... for her own sake.

  "Remove your clothes."

  Her fingers went to the clasp of the brassiere nestled between her breasts.

  An image of those long, slender fingers wrapping around his cock stilled the breath in his chest. He banished the thought with enormous effort.

  "I didn't take you for a coward or a weakling, Darias, but I guess I was wrong on both counts.” Slowly, as if she was undressing for a long awaited lover instead of for her master intent on punishing her, she pushed first one strap and then the other one off her shoulders. The provocative garment slid down her arms and onto the ground.

  "You fear what your warriors will think of you if you allow a woman the freedom to express her opinion. You're afraid they will believe you weak. Worse, you believe it makes you weak. How is it that such strong warriors...” Her fingers moved to her blouse and, one by one, she slipped each tiny button free. “Such obviously superior warriors such as the men of Nexar, have reason to fear the influence of such an obviously inferior species as women?"

  Darias caught tantalizing glimpses of her breasts from her open blouse. His mouth went dry and he had to pry his gaze from the pale flesh.

  "The men of Nexar treat women as if they possess no feelings, no thoughts other than those of their masters.

  For a moment, the blouse caught on her elbows, then it hit the ground, a soft, silken puddle on top of the brassiere. His breath lodged in his chest as the muted light of the Punishment Stone revealed her breasts in all their glory; full, heavy, the tips darkly flushed. His lungs burned until he finally remembered to breathe.

  "Now, why do you suppose that is?"

  He couldn't even remember the question as she toed off the soft leather sandals while one hand toyed with the tie at her waist. His cock stirred. It was a moment before it sank in that she was still speaking.

  "Could it be because they are afraid of facing the fact that women are every bit as intelligent as men?"

  Darias couldn't take his gaze from her hands as she slowly tugged on the ends of the tie.

  "Or maybe they don't want to have to face the fact that they've been abusing the entire opposite half of their race just so they can get their jollies by dominating them? Just think of all those rules you men make up on the spur of the moment. What chance does a woman stand of not running afoul of them?"

  The blood in his veins heated with a mixture of anger and lust. How could she do this so easily to him? “Mind your tongue."

  She gave him a patently fake innocent look. “Oh, sorry. Did I express an opinion? I forgot. Women have no thoughts of their own.” She shimmied her hips and the silky material of her trousers slithered to the ground, pooling around her feet. Riana stepped out of them, moving to stand beside the inner-lit stone with an elegance not at all affected by her nakedness. “I guess you are just going to have to punish me. Oh, wait. You are already going to punish me because I questioned the fairness of Nexar's ways."

  "You never know when to quit, do you, slave?” He had to regain control. Somehow, someway, Riana had wrested it from him, became the one who teased the other past endurance. His back teeth clenched at her unmistakable disdain. Fury rushed through his veins. In the back of his mind, he knew that he shouldn't be feeling fury. He had taken the suppressant, he shouldn't be feeling anything.

  He was past caring. Suppressant or not, she needed to learn her lesson. He allowed a grim smile to curve his lips as he closed the distance between them. He didn't stop until the rough weave of his tunic brushed the tips of her breasts.

  "But you will.” His voice was a barely audible growl.

  He gripped her waist, and lifted her effortlessly onto the curved seat of the stone. He pushed against her shoulders with gentle relentlessness until she was in a reclining position. The malleable stone allowed him to position her arms and legs into any position he desired.

  He fastened her left wrist in the padded cuff beside her head. He leaned across her, deliberately brushing his chest against her breasts as he fastened her right wrist in a similar position.

  He placed her feet in the stirrups and fastened the padded cuffs around her ankles, ignoring the faint tremor of desire in his hands. He paused before fastening cuffs up high around her thighs. He didn't want Riana to lift up more than a few centimeters from the stone while he was Punishing her.

  Darias stepped back from his handiwork. She was spread out before him, her knees raised and splayed wide.

  She ran the tip of her tongue over her bottom lip, her eyes gleaming with a subtle sexual excitement.

  He relished that look, knowing before the night was over she would be screaming for satisfaction. A satisfaction that only he could grant her.

  One that he would not.

  By morning, Riana would have learned her lesson.

  Darias leaned over her, touching her navel with the tip of his tongue.

  A soft shudder ran through her.

  Gods. She was so damn responsive. The soft, feminine fragrance of her arousal teased his senses. A tingle of warning lifted the hair on the back of his neck. He squelched it, licking a line up her ribcage to just below her right breast. He sucked the skin where her breast joined her torso between his lips, worried it gently with his teeth. He could control this.

  Her heartbeat sped up.

  He smiled, then moved to the other breast, lavishing it with the same treatment.

  He lifted his head slightly and blew on her wet skin, tracing the outline of each breast with gentle puffs of air.

  Her nipples tightened and she arched her back, offering them to him.

  He moved away.

  Her eyes shot open, her pupils large and unfocused.

  "I can smell how much you want me,” he crooned. “Call out for me to suck your breasts. For me to put my mouth on your nipples and pull them inside to my heat. Yell for me, my little slave."

  Her gaze sharpened abruptly. “No,” she said with a betraying quiver in her voice.

  He touched one finger in the wetness between her legs, a fleeting, almost-there touch and smiled. “You will."

  He licked and placed small, stinging kisses starting at her wrists, trailing to the soft inner skin of each elbow, and then to the vulnerable flesh where arm met shoulder. He followed the line of her neck and circled her ear with the tip of his tongue before darting inside for a fleeting taste. He felt more than heard the moan that vibrated in her throat.

  The light flowery scent of her wove into his very
being, calling to him, teasing him. Darias shook his head to clear it. He had to keep his attention on the point he was making. He was her master. She must obey him in all things.

  He skimmed his hand down her side, his work and war-roughened fingertips barely grazing her skin, then back up, circling her darkened aureoles.

  Chill bumps followed the faint trail his fingers had left on her skin. She tried to lift, again, tried to coax him into taking her into his mouth.

  He moved away and looked down at her, waiting for her to open her eyes.

  She turned her head away, avoiding his gaze.

  He gripped her chin, and brought her face back to his. “Ask me."

  "No."

  Zedpher's balls. The woman had more will than most of his warriors.

  "I won't take your breasts into my mouth until you scream to the stars for me to taste you."

  "I'll survive."

  But will I? Darias closed his mind to that line of thinking. Perhaps his warriors were right. Perhaps she held too much sway over him. His jaw tightened. He would crush this weakness. Riana would learn her place.

  Once more he moved to stand between her legs.

  She was wet. Feminine juices flowed out of her, seeping into the crack of her ass and glistening on the illuminated rock.

  Satisfaction speared through him, he would prove who was master here tonight. He spread the lips of her labia wide, running one finger from one end of her weeping opening to her clit. His wet finger circled her clit, the roughened skin of his finger teasing it. He dipped his finger inside her body.

  The hot, wet tissues of her inner muscles clamped down on him, trying to pull him further inside.

  He held his finger perfectly still against the pull.

  "Nooo,” she moaned before she caught her bottom lip between her teeth.

  Light glistened on the flush and plump petals of her labia, on the engorged clit fully out of it hood.

  Aching need swept over Darias in spite of the suppressant. He wanted nothing more than to bury his face between her legs, to taste the salty sweetness of the flood of wetness weeping from her opening. He wanted to sweep her up in his arms and tossed her onto his mattress; bury his cock to the hilt so that his balls slapped her ass with each hard thrust. The sheer force of his need to take her in ways he'd never even dreamt of before shocked him.

  Instead, he grabbed his slipping control and nipped the inside of her thigh.

  Her inner muscles began to quiver around his finger. The line of her slender body stretched taut, and she shook.

  He withdrew from her.

  "Goddess, no!” Her shout echoed into the night. “Darias, don't stop now,” she panted. “I'm so close to coming!"

  He slid his finger from her, then placed his hand over her stomach. “You will not come because I forbid it.” Beneath his palm he felt tiny shudders and waited until they subsided.

  Not giving her time to catch her breath, Darias lowered his face between her legs, nipping the curve of her ass before lapping at her juices. With the methodical thoroughness that was an intrinsically part of his nature, he tasted every part of her sex. He took the swollen fullness of one fold of her labia between his teeth and tugged gently.

  Her hips jerked. She tugged at her restraints. “Damn you, Darias, don't do this to me. Don't make me burn like this without giving me some relief."

  Her labia still between his teeth, he flicked his tongue back and forth against her captured flesh. He plunged two fingers deep inside, not pausing in his sensual torture, curving them and raking them gently against the walls of her vagina.

  Shivers ran continuously through her, getting stronger and stronger with each stroke of his fingers.

  Only when he felt her orgasm inexorably building did he stop.

  Darias lost count of the number of times he had her on the edge of an orgasm, only to halt before she flew over. Lost in her taste, in the power he had over her, he exulted in the way her hips would strain toward his mouth, the way her thighs quivered and tensed, the way she tossed her head back and forth, moans and pleas pouring forth.

  He covered her clit with his mouth, worrying it with his teeth, then soothing it with his tongue. He plucked at her nipples, taking the hard nubs between the tips of his fingers and rolling and pinching them.

  Her body arched as much as her restraints would allow her. Incoherent pleas and threats for him to let her come poured forth from lips swollen and red from her own teeth.

  The sun was part-way above the horizon when it slowly penetrated the fog in Darias’ head that the time for Punishment was already past. Straightening, he looked down at Riana. Sometime during the night, he had stretched her arms above her head and maneuvered the stirrups so that her legs were up in the air, her feet behind his head.

  Her labia was flushed darkly red with arousal. Her scent was on his hands and on his face. In the cool, fresh air of the new day, all he could smell was the extremely female smell of Riana.

  She stirred. Her lashes lifted to reveal passion-dilated eyes. She wet her lips. When she spoke, her voice was hoarse. “One day you will regret taking me as your slave."

  He stood there another moment, looking at her, then loosened her bindings and turned on his heel and left without a word.

  It wasn't until he reached the door to their quarters that he realized she had never asked him to suckle her breasts.

  * * * *

  Darias tightened the girth on Shagra with a savage tug. The chelan snorted his displeasure over the inconsiderate treatment. A pang of guilt smote Darias and he patted the heavily-muscled neck of his mount. “Sorry,” he muttered. The surprisingly delicate head nudged him in acceptance of his apology.

  It wasn't his old friend's fault that he was in such a foul mood. No, that fault lay directly on the slender, seductive shoulders of his slave. Less than an hour ago he had left her too exhausted and too sensitized to even close her widely-splayed legs.

  Darias shifted uneasily. He couldn't escape the feeling that he was the one who had lost that battle, even though Riana's pleas had echoed throughout the center courtyard of the keep. Several of his warriors had given him approving smiles as he made his way to the stables, despite the fact he did not have Riana on display in the Great Hall as was custom. Darias had ignored them all, intent upon escape.

  He grimaced. Like a defeated warrior, he was slinking away from the scene of battle, escaping to lick his wounds and regroup.

  He needed time to think, time away from Riana before he gave into the overpowering urge to fuck her until they were both too tired to continue their private war.

  He needed time away from her to regain his control.

  Not even to Gaith could he admit just how wrong Punishment had gone last night. A warrior was supposed to remain aloof while punishing his woman, distant from the very arousal he was forcing on his woman. Several times he had almost brought Riana to culmination. Even now he was not certain how he had had the presence of mind to refrain.

  It had been too damn close.

  He bent and scooped up the saddlebag, slinging it over Shagra's broad back. The aircycle was faster, but this morning for some reason the rhythmic gait of his chelan appealed. He secured the saddlebag. Several days in the mountains ought to clear his mind and allow him the distance necessary to understand just what Riana did to him. Understand and control his mad impulse to lose himself in her heat and her scent.

  Gathering the reins, he swiftly mounted and turned his mount's head toward the huge gate. The sun had not even cleared the walls of the compound. The day was still cool, with the moistness of night lingering. Darias knew that within a couple of hours, every sign of coolness would be burned away, leaving the scorching heat of the drought and he didn't want to be caught in its furnace blast.

  They had gone no more than three steps when he heard Gaith shouting. He sighed, reining in Shagra and waited for his first-in-command to catch up with him.

  "Darias.” Gaith ran down the steps of the keep. “M
y lord. Hold.” The warrior caught up with Darias and slid to a halt, putting one hand on the chelan's shoulder.

  "What is it?” Hard impatience laced his voice. He didn't care. He wanted to be gone before Riana had chance to recover enough to taunt him with her body.

  "Trade strike,” Gaith answered succinctly.

  "Shevets."

  Gaith turned and started toward the stable without looking to see if Darias followed. “The builders’ guild refuses to start any new work, or complete any work in progress. The shopkeepers’ guild says that the agriculture guild has been taking advantage of the drought and eating into their profit. The artisans’ guild is vowing they will...” Darias halted Gaith by holding up one broad hand.

  "Do they understand the magnitude of a strike during a drought? The economic repercussions for everyone?” He swung down from his mount, anger simmering just beneath the surface.

  "They understand that without their cooperation, the economy will fail. They understand that gives them power.” Gaith began unsaddling Darias’ mount.

  "Have you discovered which of the Guilds is behind this strike?” Darias was already striding back toward the keep even as Gaith slipped the bridle off the chelan and turned the stallion into a stall.

  "Not yet.” Gaith fell into step along side Darias, his usually cheerful face, grim. “They could hold you hostage to their demands."

  The smile Darias gave his first-in-command made the other man fall back a pace. “Only if they are determined not to live."

  Darias pulled open the massive wooden door to the keep. “I want you to call together the leaders of all the Guilds.” He stifled a sigh and turned back to his friend. “And bring Riana to me in the Great Hall."

  Chapter Three

  Riana kept her eyes defiantly high fighting a rising tide of humiliation as she worked her way through the throng of people in the Great Hall. It had been three days since punishment in the garden and Darias was still in the keep. Why didn't he leave?

  Not that Riana saw much of him. Other than ordering her to attend him in the Great Hall the morning after, he'd kept conspicuously busy. Coward. She was still riled over the degradation he'd put here through that day.