Surrender

by Alvania Scarborough

  "Sharri!"

  She was unrepentant. “Well, is he?"

  "I'm not going to kiss and tell,” Riana said primly.

  "Since when? You told me about the Lieutenant. About Cragor on Altair Eight and what about..."

  "Stop. You know perfectly well I didn't have to tell you a thing. You were there!"

  She just grinned. “Darias, Riana. I want to know about Darias."

  Riana glared at her. “You and he have one thing in common. You're both as persistent as Antarian cargo leeches. All right, I'll tell you about Darias. And, no, I'm not going to tell you if he is well hung!"

  "If you're not going to tell me if he's well hung, then at least answer one question for me."

  "What?” she asked suspiciously. It wasn't like Sharri to give up so easily.

  "How do you use the Punishment Stone?"

  Although it wasn't easy, Riana managed to ignore her friend's teasing, knowing that Sharri was using humor to help her get through this. “Darias is stubborn, smart and strong. He is also wrong headed about the place of women. Did I mention stubborn? Anyway, Nexar is, or rather, it was completely male dominated. Men held all the power and didn't hesitate to punish a woman if she was even perceived as stepping out of line. You would not believe the rules they set in place for women. And they added more anytime they felt like it,” she grumbled.

  "Punished? How?"

  Heat flooded her cheeks and she turned her face away from her friend's gentle gaze and toward the last glow of light on the horizon. When had it grown so late? A fragrant night breeze caressed her hot cheeks. Even though the sun had set, the breeze still carried the warmth of the day. How to explain to Sharri? How to tell her that sex was used to keep a woman in line, not by merely asserting dominance over her, but by using her very sexuality against her? How to explain the utter humiliation of wanting a man to the point of madness while he remained detached?

  Abruptly, a hoarse cry of rage shattered the night.

  "For Krel's sake, Bryta, please!"

  Sharri spun about, her eyes searching the garden alcove. “What in the name of the Goddess was that?"

  "Punishment,” Riana replied succinctly as another cry of fury and need echoed on the night.

  "Bryta, don't stop! No! Damn you! I'm begging you to let me come!"

  In the light of the huge, newly risen moon, her friend's eyes were shocked. “That is the punishment? And you were Darias’ slave for several weeks?"

  Riana gave a slow nod of her head. Her throat tightened and her eyes burned when Sharri held her in a silent hug of sympathy.

  "So how is it that the roles were reversed and you became Supreme Chief and Darias your slave?"

  "For all their faults, Darias and the men of Nexar hold their honor dear. I learned that he could not refuse a Battle of Honor."

  "Even from a female slave?"

  "Well, from a female slave who practically accused him of being a coward."

  "You didn't! Riana, the chance you took! He could have killed you."

  A wry grin tugged at the corner of her lips. “No, I knew he wouldn't kill me. After all, that would deny him the opportunity to rub my face in his superiority. Not to mention taking me down a peg by public punishment."

  "Public punish—No, don't tell me. I don't think I want to know. So what are you going to do now? You can't stay here and play Supreme Chief forever."

  "I can't leave. Not yet. The women need me."

  "I can understand that.” Sharri spoke slowly. “After what you've told me, I realize they need guidance. I even understand why you wanted to take revenge on Darias, but it's been several weeks now and he's still your slave. That is so not like you, Riana."

  Riana bit her lip, unable to meet the other woman's eyes. “At one time I would have agreed.” She stared down at her locked fingers. “I'm not the same person you once knew. I've changed.” She pushed aside the vague sense of hollowness that was sneaking up on her more and more often lately. Darias and she were locked in a contest of wills. Showing him the slightest sign of weakness would be disastrous for the women of Nexar. Oh, sure, she could fly the Midnight Mischief from this planet, forget that Nexar or Darias ever existed, but the women would pay for her actions.

  No, the only thing her conscience would allow her to do was to stay and make sure they were never again enslaved. And the only way to do that was to force the men of Nexar into admitting they were wrong to totally dominate women.

  Her friend's gaze was searching. “Are you sure?"

  An inexplicable sadness filled Riana. “Oh, yes,” she whispered, “I'm sure.” Of that she didn't have the slightest doubt.

  What she wasn't sure about was how to change the men's attitudes. Each day was a struggle to keep ahead of Darias’ and the other men's plan to retake power. At one time, she had half-hoped that things were changed between her and Darias. The way they had once fallen asleep in each other's arms, a sense of peace between them, had made her believe that Darias was at last beginning to understand.

  Now, everything was turned about. Yeah, they still had sex, but something was missing. She pushed until he submitted, but even the joy in that was gone. And spanking? She pushed both hands in her hair and gripped the strands. Never for play anymore. Never for pleasure.

  And even if she was successful in changing the mindset here in Nexar, the damage between Darias and herself was done. An ache deep inside started at that knowledge. Standing, she cradled a crystal ice blossom on the palm of her hand. Even that gentle touch caused a delicate chiming. So much beauty in Nexar. Would she ever be able to forget?

  There was a heartbeat of silence. To her relief, Sharri didn't pursue the topic any further. “What can I do to help?"

  Shaking off the wistful yearning that things could be different, Riana turned her thoughts toward business. “Saria, the leader of the Far Islands, has agreed to meet with a trade representative from Nexar. I can't go. Things are still too unsettled here for me to leave. I can't send any of the women. For one thing, they don't have the skill or experience to deal with such a delicate issue yet. For another, if the warriors learn that Darias kept from them the fact that a woman rules the Far Islands, they might well decide that since he deceived them on a matter of such importance, they don't have to abide by the wager he made with me. It's a fine line to walk. I can't keep the women in ignorance forever, but sharing the news that another country-state has long had women rulers might well lead to the women of Nexar again being reduced to the rank of slave. That is why I need you to negotiate on the behalf of Nexar. Will you?"

  "For you, not for Nexar, I'll go."

  Sharri started to leave, then turned back. “So, when are you going to tell them?"

  "I don't know,” she whispered, “I just don't know."

  Again, Sharri started to leave only to stop. “Riana?"

  "Yes?"

  "Have you truly changed, or are you just still angry?” Her words hovered on the air as she left before Riana could find a response.

  Chapter Nine

  Riana propped her elbows on the desk, fingertips against her brow, and regarded Darias. He stood before her, a relaxed arrogance in his stance.

  "What did you do with them?” A faint headache throbbed in her temples.

  His face was expressionless. “Do with what?"

  "Don't play the innocent with me.” She shoved the chair back and got to her feet. “The trade and service agreements between the Houses and the Supreme Chief. All of the hard copies are gone. So are the Guild agreements."

  He lifted one black brow. “You believe I took them all?"

  Riana moved until there was only a hands-breadth of space between them. She was a tall woman, but still she had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze. This close, she could smell his unique scent, wild like that of a panthra and all male. Between her legs, she could feel moisture gathering.

  It wasn't fair the way he could make her respond even when she was furious with him. But, fair or not, it was undenia
ble. Riana wet her lips with the tip of her tongue as she sought to counter his pull on her senses.

  Darias’ eyes darkened to tarnished gold.

  Her mind went blank. What had she asked him? Oh, yes, the trade agreements. “Not personally. However, I do believe you coordinated the timing of their disappearance.” Her ire returned. “You knew, because of the damage done by your stealth program, that we'd need this hard copy information when a deal between the Far Islands and Nexar is signed. You hoped to sow discord among the Houses. The men are already whispering that I'm showing favoritism to certain Houses and that, without the agreements, who's to say whether I'm abiding by what's already been decided."

  Riana had to admire his cleverness. He'd waited until the negotiations were well under way and couldn't be postponed or called off without weakening their position. By choosing this moment, he could stir internal conflict, jeopardizing not only the trade summit but the stability of her rule itself.

  "Where are the trade agreements and who took them?"

  "If I knew where they were and if I knew those involved, do you truly believe I would tell you?"

  She didn't argue with him. It'd be useless, she knew. Instead, she placed her hand on his chest, directly over his heart. “This deserves punishment in the Great Hall. You understand that.” Beneath her palm, his muscle tightened.

  He stared over her head. A muscle jerked in his jaw. “You are Supreme Chief."

  Riana felt like shaking him. Why couldn't he see he was forcing her to punish him? If he would just admit who all was behind the documents’ disappearance, maybe she wouldn't have to punish him as severely.

  She glanced up at his set face.

  No. He would never yield. Her dragon would rather face punishment than give up trying to get Nexar back. Darias felt it was his duty to return Nexar to the men's rule. And, Goddess only knew, the man held true to what he considered his duty. Riana rubbed her chest with her free hand, trying to get rid of the heavy lump that had formed in the vicinity of her heart.

  "Don't make me do this. Don't make me punish you."

  "You are Supreme Chief,” he repeated.

  She closed her eyes briefly. So be it. Riana opened her mouth to order him to wait in their chamber until she called him to the Great Hall.

  Have you truly changed, or are you still angry?

  Sharri's question popped into her head from out of nowhere. Her hand, still on Darias’ chest, curled slightly. Oh, Goddess, she was using the same arguments to punish Darias that he had used to justify his behavior to her. Except in her case she didn't even have the excuse of tradition to blame.

  Shocked, she realized her fury at her treatment hadn't died with time. Instead, it had simply disguised itself behind such euphemisms as teaching him a lesson when, in reality, she was looking for a way to gain revenge and to force Darias into conceding complete defeat.

  But Darias wasn't a one-dimensional man, concerned only with enslaving women. His journals and concern over his people proved that. No, he was a man fighting to hold onto a way of life in the only way he knew how. Change meant tearing down the fabric of structure that held his society together. Darias didn't think he was capable of change, but he was. Look at his defense of Jayna, his former personal guardsman's woman. And look at his leniency—by Nexarian standards—with her.

  That hollow feeling that was with her all the time now, swelled, until it almost swallowed her.

  She had allowed her anger and humiliation to reshape her into someone she abhorred. Okay, so maybe her behavior at first had been justified. The only way Darias was ever going to truly learn Nexar needed to change was to experience life as a slave himself, but it was inexcusable to continue to look for reasons to treat him thus. This, though ... This had gone far beyond dominance and submission between a woman and a man. For all her silent assurances to herself to the contrary, she had tried to compel Darias into total submission, both in and out of the bed chamber. Look at the way she had made him present himself to her in the office.

  She swallowed a bitter taste.

  That had been about humiliation and control, not about mutual pleasure.

  Truth was, she had used it to punish him for not backing off of the battle between them. For playing the game just that bit better than she had. Gall burned the back of her throat as she admitted the rest of the truth. It was about hurting him as he had hurt her by—after all they'd done together—still refusing to acknowledge her skills and strengths as worthy of his respect.

  It was a hell of a time to realize she didn't want to subjugate Darias. At least not outside of sex, she qualified with a spurt of honesty. In that, his submission suited her just fine. As it did Darias if only he was willing to admit it. Outside of their private relationship, however, she wanted them to be partners. Equal partners.

  The admission filled the hollow in her chest, making her whole and free for the first time in a very long time. Free of rage, free of bitterness ... just free.

  A small smile lifted one corner of her lips. She knew the perfect place to start initiating the changes.

  His skin heated the sheer spidersilk of his tunic. Riana trailed the tips of her fingers down lower, lower.

  Darias’ breath caught.

  She felt an answering flutter of desire in the pit of her stomach as she unbuckled the leather harness, taking a moment to trace and admire the way it defined the muscles in his chest.

  "What...” His throat worked strongly and his voice was hoarse. He cleared his throat and started over. “What are you doing?"

  "What does it look like?” A sensual amusement spilled over inside Riana and warmed her the way nothing had in a very long time. Even as a slave, Darias was almost always in control of himself, of his emotions. Only during punishment did that immense control slip.

  And during sex.

  He'd obviously been braced for punishment so her actions now caught him off guard. He wasn't sure what to make of her. Of her actions.

  Punishment or play.

  She could see the question swirling in the tarnished gold of his eyes. Good. The confused desire she saw in his eyes was exactly what she wanted. She needed to keep him guessing if she ever hoped to succeed in her new plan.

  The leather harness dropped to the rug. Working her fingers between the fastenings of his tunic, she began stroking the warm flesh of his chest. He shuddered and caught her fingers, stilling them.

  "You plan to Punish me outside of our quarters?” he sounded strained.

  "No."

  "This is some new way to torment me, isn't it? You're going to make me think you aren't angry at my actions and then Punish me,” he grated. Beneath her touch, fine shivers coursed through his strong form.

  "Does it feel like punishment?” she murmured.

  "No. Yes. I don't know.” He closed his eyes and arched his head back as she slipped her hand free of his and traced feather light circles down to his abdomen.

  Riana slowly unfastened the toggles of his tunic, placing a small kiss on each new bit of skin revealed. A breath shuddered out of him as she reached the waist of his breeches.

  Hard hands bit into her shoulders

  Riana couldn't tell if he was trying to stop her progress, or urge her on. She had the strong suspicion he wasn't sure, either. She lifted her head.

  "Do you want me to stop?” Her heart beating furiously in her chest, she waited for his answer.

  One hand tangled in her hair, Darias pulled her head back until he could look down into her eyes. His gaze searched hers. “I should. This is wrong. I shouldn't allow you to touch me like this, not outside of our chamber. Not if you're not Punishing me."

  "Are you going to tell me to stop?” Riana pressed harder. She had to hear him admit he wanted her to continue. Later, she didn't want accusations that she'd forced him.

  The gold eyes blazed with a molten desire. “No. Krel, no. I just hope for both our sakes you aren't toying with me, Riana,” he groaned, before drawing her mouth back to his stoma
ch.

  Triumph soared in her. Her dragon, whether he realized it or not, had just willingly relinquished a part of his precious self-control to her. Without coercion.

  Her favorite love scene from The Damsel and the Dragon popped into her mind.

  Oh, yes. If that didn't make him forget his own name, nothing would.

  Her tongue darted out, tasting him. Riana relished his mutters of encouragement. The clean, masculine scent that was Darias’ alone rose to envelop her. She stepped back and unfastened her blouse, one button at a time. Her hands then went to her snug-fitting trousers. Kicking off her boots, she shimmied out of the pants, leaving herself clad only in a pair of sheer lace panties and a shirt that barely covered her hips.

  Closing the small distance that separated them, she knelt before him, aware that each movement caused her blouse to alternately conceal and reveal her unbound breasts. She unlaced first one of his soft boots and then the other, tossing them aside as she removed them. Her hands on the outsides of his calves, she slowly stood, trailing her hands up his legs as she rose. Her hands cupping his hips, she just stood there for a moment.

  The evidence of his arousal was unmistakable. The spidersilk breeches and thong shaped him so lovingly that she could even see a tracing of the veins beneath the velvet-soft skin of his erection. Slipping her fingers beneath the waistband of his breeches, she slid them, one centimeter at a time, down over his hips. He stepped out of them as they fell to the floor.

  Darias was left standing, magnificently male and in his prime, clothed in that bit of an excuse for an undergarment.

  Riana licked her lips, unable to take her eyes off his maleness. She was ruefully aware of the tremor in her hands as she reached for the scrap of gold cloth.

  He was so aroused that the material covering the tip of his cock was practically transparent from the moisture leaking from the small slit.

  His cock tumbled into her waiting hands as she eased it down his hips. She closed her hands about him gently. Air hissed from his lungs as she reverently traced one finger along the underside of his cock, from the base to the head. A drop of milky fluid pearled on the tip. His hands became fists at his sides when she lowered her head to lick it off.