Surrender

by Alvania Scarborough

  Feeling acutely self-conscious, Darias took his rock-hard cock in his hand. Self-pleasuring was against the Rules. His throat worked as he struggled to do as commanded against years of training that a warrior never touched himself.

  He circled the base of his cock, his hold light. He moved his hand in a tentative stroke and nearly gasped at the shaft of pleasure that ripped clear to his spine. He gripped tighter, his stroke firmer now.

  His palm was callused, the skin rougher and so very different from the feel of Riana's hand on his flesh. His head arched back as he instinctively twisted his hand just beneath the cap of his cock.

  His breath came faster. Pre-come was leaking steadily from the slit bisecting the head of his shaft. With the blindfold over his eyes, it was easy to forget he had an audience watching him experiment with the forbidden.

  Until she spoke.

  "Use your thumb and spread the pre-come around the tip."

  For some reason, that seemed more intimate than stroking himself to culmination.

  "Riana, please.” He couldn't finish his plea.

  "Are you disobeying me?"

  Darias wet his lips, tempted to do just that. Finally, he gave a small shake of his head.

  "Then do it."

  His entire body felt hot. Darias wasn't sure if it was shame or lust. He nearly cursed at the bolt of sensation that tightened his balls up high against his body when he rubbed the slippery fluid around the swollen head, his touch awkward.

  "Stop."

  He froze.

  "Take one step forward."

  He shuddered when he felt her small hand circle his cock, right behind the engorged head. When she tasted him with the tip of her tongue, he couldn't prevent the jerk of his hips. Or the strangled moan that escaped his lips.

  Riana took her time cleaning him and capturing each drop of pre-come as it emerged.

  Darias could no more have stopped the rhythmic thrust of his hips than he could the drought. Just as he was about to explode, when one more delicate lick of her tongue would send him over that precipice, she drew back.

  "Enough.” To his chagrin, her voice sounded normal. “You may not come before being punished."

  Abruptly, he realized that his arousal, this entire seduction, was part of his Punishment. Fury, hot and immediate, blazed. A measure of control returned. His voice icy, Darias let his scorn pour over the woman in front of him.

  "Think what you will of Nexarian ways, of Nexarian traditions, of me, at least I never misled you. You always knew the line between sex and Punishment."

  "You think that was about punishment?” She sounded amazed. Then she burst out laughing in what seemed to be true amusement. “Ah, Darias, I am so going to enjoy teaching you the difference between play and true punishment."

  "Over my lap,” she ordered, all traces of laughter gone.

  "What?” Still trying to absorb the implication that this was play, not Punishment, he was slow to comply.

  "That has earned you ten more strokes."

  His cock leaped in response.

  "Riana,” he began.

  "Mistress,” she corrected.

  Darias tamped down the feeling that he should be fighting her, refusing to obey, and agreed. “Mistress.” Rising excitement chased away his fury. “Mistress,” he tasted the word on his lip, discovering that he liked it a little too much, but continued anyway. “Mistress, I—I'm not sure what you mean.” He hated feeling so unsure but he needed to know. “Are you saying this is not Punishment?"

  She sighed. “Then let me explain. This is not Nexarian punishment, but I am punishing you."

  Krel, the woman could make his head hurt faster than a fall from a wild chelan. “For ripping my tunic?” he asked, needing clarification. Was she going to spank him or not?

  "Goddess, you could take the fun out of a three-day layover on a pleasure planet. Look, don't think, just feel. You don't have a choice, slave. Let go of the reins, Darias,” she whispered. “I command you."

  Darias took a deep breath. Tonight he was slave and she was mistress. He wouldn't think beyond that. The tension flowed from his body, to be replaced by another, different, kind of tension. He bowed his head.

  "Yes, Mistress."

  She took him by the hand and guided him down over her lap until he was stretched out, full-length, on the bed. His erection pressed into the leather of her pants. The feel of the leather against his skin, after weeks of wearing silk, was somehow exotic.

  As was the fact he was naked while she was fully clothed.

  "Put your palms down on the bed, next to your head."

  The muscles in his back tensed.

  He almost shot off the bed when she ran her hand up the inside of his thigh and cupped his balls. She tapped the inside of his thighs.

  "Spread your legs a little. Yes, like that."

  The cheeks of his ass clenched in anticipation. Oddly enough, Darias found that being unable to see heightened sensation as well as jangling every nerve in his body.

  She kept her hand between his legs, petting him and soothing him. Darias relaxed, his breathing evened out.

  Smack.

  He jumped, his fingers tangling in the spidersilk sheet. Krel, he'd forgotten the woman could hit almost as hard as he could. Another open hand smack set fire to his ass.

  "You have been bad. You know what we do to bad slaves, don't you?"

  "You spank them,” he gritted out from between clenched teeth as a flurry of blows landed.

  "That's right. I spank them."

  His ass burned and stung. And with each blow, his erection got harder. His nipples pebbled against the spidersilk sheets. Darias wanted to move, to rub them against the sheets, gain some relief from the sensual ache.

  She stopped, her hand resting on his butt.

  "No.” Krel, she couldn't leave him like this, his ass on fire, his cock even hotter.

  Darias heard the rustle of the sheet, then silence again.

  Crack.

  "Krel!” he roared when he regained his breath. “That hurt!” Almost before he was done speaking, the hot shards of pain turned into something else. Something that was centered in his balls and cock.

  His fingers dug into the sheets.

  Crack.

  His ass clenched and released in the simulated thrust of lovemaking with each blow as it landed. A part of Darias was appalled that he had absolutely no control over the action.

  The other part didn't give a damn.

  His heart was thundering in his chest, his breath was labored, as if he'd spent hours battling, by the time the rhythmic lift and fall of her arm quit. He lay there, trembling and close to erupting in a mind-blowing climax, when she leaned over him and whispered, “Take me."

  Darias exploded off the bed, his arm about her waist, sweeping her beneath him all in one move. His other hand tore at the fastenings on her leather breeches, opening them and peeling the pants down in desperation. He managed to get them off one leg.

  In the next breath, he was buried inside Riana to the hilt. It was like drowning in liquid fire. He pounded into her, incapable of even the smallest amount of finesse. With each thrust, his ass burned hotter, until he was engulfed in fire; his cock, his ass, her sheath.

  Darias sank his teeth in her shoulder, hearing the material of her blouse give way beneath his assault.

  Her nails dug into his sore ass, pushing him over the edge.

  * * * *

  The sound of Riana's soft laughter roused Darias.

  "What?” He lay on his side where he'd landed after the mind-blowing orgasm, his arm over his eyes. He didn't so much as try to crack an eyelid. It was too much effort to move his arm. Hell, he might not ever move again.

  "This.” She tugged on something tangled in his hair.

  The blindfold. He was still wearing the damned blindfold.

  He ripped it off, and glared at her.

  "You didn't have to use it in the first place."

  Her amusement didn't fade. “Are yo
u trying to tell me you didn't enjoy it? That not being able to see what was going to happen next didn't add a little more excitement?"

  She had him there and damn well knew it. Darias couldn't truthfully tell her that wearing the blindfold hadn't aroused him to another level altogether. But he damn well didn't have to admit it. Silence, he decided, was best in this case.

  She smiled knowingly.

  He shifted, and his butt protested. He winced.

  "Turn over,” she ordered immediately. “I want to make sure the paddle operated as it was supposed to."

  Resigned to the fact that she wouldn't let up until he did as she asked, he turned over.

  "Ow.” A shock of pain followed the light press of her fingers. His cock stirred. “What did you use on me? I know it wasn't the hairbrush this time.” Even the slightest touch of her hand elicited that stab of pain. And the shot of arousal. What in the name of Tartarius had she used on him?

  He reached behind himself, and felt for damage. Heat poured off his skin. Pain, then arousal.

  "A stim paddle.” She leaned down and brushed her lips over one abused cheek. Darias jumped. He would never get used to the way she touched him wherever she felt like.

  "What's a stim paddle?"

  Riana bit, just a scraping of her teeth.

  His ass clenched. The pain was sharper this time. So was the response of his cock. He breathed deeply, attempting to control the budding erection. He wasn't in any shape for another bout of sex. It might just kill him.

  "It's a paddle that has micro nodes that emit electrical stimulation to the flesh being spanked. It stimulates both the pain and pleasure nerve endings without real damage. The effect is only supposed to last a few hours."

  "A few hours!” He turned so that she could see his glare.

  She smirked back, unrepentant.

  "Yep."

  "It hurts!"

  "It's supposed to. Would you rather I use my hairbrush?"

  "That is not what I mean, and you know it! You said we were playing. Play isn't supposed to hurt.” All of a sudden, Darias wanted to fight and he didn't know why.

  "What's the matter, my dragon? You liked the way it hurt a little while ago,” she pointed out. She tapped his ass.

  He thrust against the sheet before turning over, away from her touch. Pain and lust rolled over him. He flipped back onto his stomach. The back of his neck reddened when she laughed. He turned his head away from her.

  She seemed to realize he was truly upset. Her expression softened. “Darias, the stim paddle won't leave any marks. No one will know what we did.” She placed her hand on his shoulder. “Play can be anything that two people want. Don't be embarrassed because you enjoyed what we did."

  He was acting like an idiot. Darias shifted to his side and propped his head up on hand. If she could act like it wasn't a big deal, so could he. It was then he noticed the bruise forming beneath the tear in her shirt.

  Shocked, he touched it with one finger.

  "I hurt you!” Keeping his touch exquisitely gentle, he moved her shirt out of the way. There, in the top of her shoulder, was the imprint of his teeth. At least he hadn't broken the skin. The observation failed miserably to console him.

  "I liked it."

  His gaze shot to hers in disbelief.

  "It's true. At that moment, the feel of your teeth was exactly what I needed."

  Dazed, he stared at the evidence of his uncontrolled passion.

  Not saying a word, Riana stripped off the rest of her clothes. Still silent, she turned on her side to face him.

  Darias took her in his arms, pressing a tender kiss over the mark before covering it with his palm.

  Her hand cupped one cheek of his ass. There was the familiar jolt of pain, followed by an equally strong jolt of lust. Darias ignored both.

  A man could get used to falling asleep like this.

  Chapter Seven

  ...The dragon lowered its head, presenting the vulnerable spot where spine joined skull.

  It waited.

  Hand trembling, she lifted the dagger, steeling herself to plunge it into the beast.

  A breath shuddered out of the beast at the action.

  It sounded like a mournful sigh.

  Tears slipped down her cheeks. She couldn't do it. She couldn't kill the beast. Not even to still the heart-rending pain in his silver eyes.

  His?

  The sudden sure conviction that the dragon was more than an unthinking beast settled into her mind and refused to go away.

  He looked up. The silver eyes blazed. His muzzle gaped open in blatant threat.

  Her heart stuttered and then lodged in her throat.

  Her hand tightened on the dagger in her hand.

  "Yes. Kill me. Kill me before I kill you."

  She froze as the words formed in her brain. But the thought wasn't hers. It was the beast's.

  "No!” She threw the dagger across the room. It hit the wall before falling to the floor.

  "Foolish woman. Now you will die.” The silver eyes glowed with rage and pain.

  Where her courage came from she could not say, but Danella met the fury of the beast with calm command.

  "You will not hurt me. You will obey me."

  "Obey you?” A mask of arrogance settled over the scaly face. “I don't take commands, I give them."

  How could she have been so blind? The silver eyes, the air of arrogance. She'd seen them before, in the painting that hung in the solar. The man haunted her dreams. Lord, warrior ... slave.

  His name was Morganth. He was Ranuld's older brother.

  How had he come to be trapped in the body of a dragon? The mystery intrigued her, but not as much as the man, himself.

  A man who bowed his head to no one. A man that mastered all he saw.

  Except...

  A man who would submit his formidable will to her in the bedroom.

  Hers.

  Hers to tie to the bed.

  Hers to tease and torment.

  Hers.

  His cock.

  His balls.

  His ass.

  Just remembering her dreams caused her pussy to swell and grow moist, her nipples to contract and harden. A fire burned in her belly.

  But first she had to make him accept he belonged to her.

  Riana slowly closed the book. Swiveling the chair, she looked out the open window. The grass was dry and brittle, the plants wilting. In the distance, the range of mountains shimmered, blue and cool, in the mid-afternoon heat. It was an illusion, she knew. The entire country-state was suffering the effects of the drought.

  She took a deep breath of the hot, dry air and released it slowly.

  Darias refused to acknowledge that he belonged to her.

  Until he accepted that, he would continue to fight her.

  A part of her enjoyed the battle between them ... but not in the bedroom. There, she would rule.

  Her mouth set in a firm line. Darias would submit, even if it took upending him over her lap every night. A slow, sensual smile relaxed the tight lines of her lips.

  She would make sure he enjoyed every slap of her hand, whether he wanted to or not.

  It was time to take the play between them to a new level.

  Riana tapped one nail on the supple leather of her short skirt. Although, play was not exactly the correct word. Ever since she'd used the stim paddle on Darias, he'd defied her more and more, determined to gain back the control he'd lost to her. He liked, no, craved, what she did to him in the bedchamber and that, she realized with a flash of insight, terrified him more than the idea of having his butt blistered in the Great Hall.

  Regaining his position of Supreme Chief translated to regaining control of his responses to her.

  The struggle between them, though, was played with certain, accepted rules. No longer were outsiders brought into it as each attempted to outmaneuver the other. A small smile tipped up the corners of her mouth. Though Darias would sooner be trampled by a wild chelan than
admit it, he took care to avoid pushing her to the point of spanking his ass in real punishment again. Thus the battle between them had become a delicate balancing act of defiance and dominance.

  Even in the bedroom. Since that night she used the stim paddle, he'd forced her to make him submit to her demands. But she could sense him struggle against the desire to simply hand her complete control over his body and responses.

  And that caused her to see how far she could push him. It also forced her to realize something else.

  She loved dominating him.

  Perhaps she should be disturbed by that revelation, but it was somehow as if her time spent as his slave, subject to his whims and punishment had set something loose in her. Something that craved having a strong man surrender to her on the most basic level there was between a man and a woman.

  She shifted in her chair.

  Goddess, what did that make her? She'd never gotten her jollies by beating a man, or by being the one in total control. Being in Nexar set free a side of her that she had kept hidden from even herself.

  A side that she liked.

  Perhaps too much.

  She waited to feel uncomfortable with that thought. All she felt was the tingle of excitement at the coming conflict. She set the book on the polished surface of her desk. She would start today. Now. Filled with renewed determination, she went in search of Bryta.

  * * * *

  Her heart pounded and her throat was dry. Could she do this? Could she take their relationship this far? Up until now the lines were drawn along comfortable boundaries. Daytime was for battle of ruling the country-state, night for their private battle. An intimate time of hot, sweaty sex and cautious sharing of thoughts and dreams.

  Was she about to ruin everything in her desire to dominate this one man?

  The door to the bedchamber opened and her spinning thoughts screeched to halt. Surreptitiously, she dried her sweating palms on the midnight spidersilk of the comforter.

  "You wanted to speak to me?” There was just enough taunting arrogance in Darias’ tone to straighten her spine. She lifted her chin and put a chill in her own voice.

  "Come here."

  Caution flashed across his face, to be replaced almost instantly by a slight smirk. He shut the door behind him, then sauntered across the room, deliberate swagger in his walk.