Iron Dominance

by Cari Silverwood

  “Put your mouth here,” he said, rough-voiced. He wrapped his fist around his erection.

  She stared at those gray eyes, at the desire and command in them. He knew she wouldn’t refuse. Not when he said it like that. She licked her lips. What will it taste like? The end of it was just the right size to slide into her mouth. She put out her hand. The bulbous head smelled fresh and felt soft, with an exciting underlying hardness. He’d bathed already, she realized.

  He watched as she put her mouth to the head, then hesitantly engulfed more of him. Her saliva made his cock slide sweetly. It sent a shiver through her, desire flaring between her thighs as she recalled the feel of him, how he’d filled her. When her lips met his hand and she licked at him, swirling her tongue around his cock, he groaned.

  “Slow,” he croaked. “Seeing your mouth wrapped round me—”

  He released his cock and held her head, guiding her movements, then reached down. The unexpected pinch of fingers and thumbs on her nipples shocked her. She couldn’t move; the world became nothing more than her mouth with him inside, her nipples, and what lay between her thighs.

  Theo chuckled. She blinked up at him. “You’d better let that go before you bite me.”

  His cock glided from her mouth, leaving it strangely empty and her lips swollen. Salty precum had leaked onto her tongue. He joined her in the water, then moved her so she faced away.

  “Sit on me.”

  Oh, now that appealed to her. He wedged her feet half under and behind his so she couldn’t slip in the water. With his hands guiding her, the tip of him probed at her entrance, then pressed on in, sliding slowly, like an airship docking into its moorings, so far up inside, her throat closed over again.

  “Ah-unhh.” She clamped her eyes shut. Squeezed, down there, tight. If she died right then and there, she’d be happy.

  “You’re easily pleased,” he whispered. “Now stay there. Don’t move.” He nibbled at her ear while playing gently with the areolae yet never quite…touching them. “Stop wriggling,” he commanded, biting her lobe, hard.

  Oh. Even his bite sent electricity through her, lighting her up everywhere that counted.

  Impaled, she panted. How could he make her feel like this? Aching, until it took over her every thought, until all she wanted was to move? The loss of control, the presence of someone who could make her do what he desired, it intoxicated her as nothing else ever had.

  “Now?” she begged, gasping as he twitched inside her, and her flesh answered.

  “No.” He stroked her neck. “Today, this will be all we do. Day after tomorrow, we’re going on a picnic, where I intend to make love to you, and you are going to let me do whatever I wish.”

  “Outside?” she asked, frowning. Whatever he wished? “No tying me up?”

  “Perhaps.”

  “No,” she said firmly.

  Just as firmly, he tweaked her nipples and bit her neck. She almost came.

  “Saying no is not allowed. Not yet. Wait and see.” He put a hand under her bottom, one finger slithering wetly between their bodies to the entrance to her anus.

  “Hey!” she muttered, squirming, but he held an arm under her breasts and gently wormed the finger inside.

  “Saying no might have consequences. Like your little ass here being next on the menu.”

  She said nothing, absorbing the strange new sensation, head lowered, eyelids half-closed. It was different—odd, yet nice. Her nerves registered his cock, then his finger. She couldn’t seem to stop feeling them both. Now one, now the other. Mmm. Her clitoris twitched, engorging.

  Theo kissed her neck and then pulled finger and cock out of her as he pushed her up and off his lap. The sudden change made her whimper. He stood. “I’ll find your clothes.”

  While she washed off the bubbles and toweled dry, Theo brought in a set of clothes and laid it out on the chair. In the time she had to herself as she dressed, she questioned what had come over her. Why did she let this man command her? Inkline had done that, and she’d hated him for it. With Theo, it was entirely different. As if her needs were his own, he made sure she reveled in everything they did. Except for when he simply did what he wanted. She smiled. Like he just had. Which strangely pleased her even more.

  The plans she’d made of merely pretending to Theo that he had the upper hand had faded away. She didn’t want that anymore. She wanted this, the relationship they had.

  They breakfasted at a table set up before the large window in the bedroom, with morning light slanting in across the dishes and glinting off the silver cutlery.

  “There’s one requirement that I have to insist upon. I agree with Dankyo that you must write out for us exactly what you know about frankenstructs and the PME. The smallest detail may be important.”

  She slowly spread butter across a piece of toast. “I can do that.” She smiled. “In triplicate if you like.”

  “Good.” Theo put his hand atop hers on the table and squeezed. His touch and mellow baritone distracted her, and it was a moment before she registered the next words.

  “There’s nothing more I want you to do today except rest, and tomorrow you can go to visit June. Maybe I’ll see about showing you around the estate.”

  “Oh.” She swallowed a mouthful of toast, then looked up anxiously. “Is she okay?”

  “Yes.” He patted her hand. “Dr. Eastway looked at her. No ill effects.”

  “I’d rather go to her today.” Funny, how attached she’d become to the lady. She didn’t even know what her real job was here.

  “No. You caused quite a ruckus last night.” He dabbed at his mouth with a napkin. “I want to make sure everyone knows your place on the estate before I let you loose on them.”

  She cocked her head. “My place?” She supposed some might resent her. Were there others like Dankyo, who would hate her?

  “Yes.” He studied her, waggled his head. “Your place. Simple. Under me.”

  “Oh! Now that’s—”

  “True?”

  Heat slowly crept up her neck to her cheeks. In a way, it was true, she guessed. Oh, heavens. It appalled her and thrilled her all at once. But saying it out loud. No.

  “Can’t say it to me yet? Never mind. I’ll have you doing it soon.” His eyes danced; then he leaned across the table and kissed her hard and slow until her head spun.

  Resting, doing nothing more than sitting about, left too much time for thinking. Theo went missing soon after breakfast.

  To occupy herself, she did sit-ups and watched the men and women walking about outside. She thought about examining every inch of Theo’s room—the closed drawers and locked cupboards tempted her. Opening most of them would be easy. Making sure Theo never knew she’d done it wasn’t so easy.

  Oh, but it was so, so tempting.

  After chewing on her lip awhile, she left them alone.

  By the time he returned late that night, she’d done two hundred and fifty push-ups and three hundred sit-ups as well as fifty of every other exercise she could remember. She’d gone through the katas of Judo, Kendo, and Karate.

  The first thing Theo did on his return was sniff the air.

  “What have you been doing? Bath. Now.”

  Horrified at his expression, she scurried to obey.

  When he entered the bathroom, she was under the water with just her eyes and the top of her head above the water.

  He eyed her. “Are you pretending to be a crocodile or a seal? Because I think I like mermaid better. Perhaps I should check if you’ve grown a tail?”

  To her disappointment, when he slipped into the bathtub, he only cuddled her in his lap. “Remember,” he said, licking the very tip of her nose, “we’re not making love until I take you on a picnic. And thank you for not prying into anything of mine. I like that I can trust you.”

  “Um. You’re welcome.” The simple compliment made her feel good—weird but good. She nestled up to him some more and laid her head against him at the snuggly juncture of chest and should
er. She inhaled. Warm and lemon-soap fresh and extract of man. Yummy.

  The next morning he slapped her bottom to wake her. Again, she’d slept through him rising.

  He smiled, slung a frock coat over his shoulder, and ran his hand through his dark curls.

  “Sorry. I’ll be distracted again today. I have another trip to town in a week or so. Political stuff—and I have to smooth some feathers first by telegraph. I’ll arrange for Kirsten to start you on a tour of the estate, in…three-quarters of an hour?” He raised his eyebrows. “I’ll catch up with you once I’m done. Try not to trip over Dankyo. The man is very protective of me, and it’ll take a while before he accepts you.”

  Claire nodded. “I understand. I guess I’d feel the same way if I were him.”

  Kirsten? Ah, yes. The girl who looked after Theo’s bedroom. He trusted her to look over his property with no more than a serving girl as company? No guards? It gave her a ridiculously happy feeling. To be trusted so graciously in return made her feel like lying down at his feet. Trust inspired loyalty. It was infectious. Now she knew why he had such a tight cadre of people around him.

  “What should I wear for this tour?”

  He pulled her into his arms. “Something that you like. Have a look in the wardrobe.” He softly kissed her mouth. “I’ve had some more clothes put in there. Kirsten’s a lovely lady. You’ll find June at the nursery. Enjoy yourself.”

  “I will.” She touched her mouth where he’d kissed her as he strode to the door.

  She found a little red knee-length skirt, all ruffles and lace at the bottom, and a fitted bodice top to go with it. Twirling in front of the mirror made the skirt flip out to expose an indecent amount of leg. It was sexy and surely naughty, but when she thought of how Theo would approve, it made her warm inside.

  Kirsten knocked at the bedroom door a few minutes later. In a plain blue and white dress, with her brunette hair secured in a bun, Kirsten looked happy and young enough to brighten any room. Claire compared her muscular figure with Kirsten’s—next to all those curves and softness, she was an overgrown warrior woman.

  This woman had makeup on too. Did Theo expect her to wear makeup?

  That, of course, was exactly her problem—she didn’t fit in here. She stood out like a sore thumb. Not feminine, and she certainly wasn’t going to be a house guard.

  “The colonel said I was to give you a grand tour.” Kirsten pursed her mouth. “I’m not sure what that is…but we could start in the kitchens? Tell me if there’s something you’d rather see.”

  “Oh. I have to see June. But the kitchen sounds good.”

  They walked on in silence. Kirsten didn’t seem to mind and bounced with each step. What had she in common with this bubbly woman?

  “Here’s the kitchen,” announced Kirsten, flinging open a white door off a hallway near the foyer.

  Though the estate must house at least a hundred men and women, Claire was surprised at the size of the kitchen. The noise hadn’t carried into the hall, but the banging of metal pans and implements, the hiss of fires and ovens, and the chatter of the kitchen staff filled this room up. She wondered how their heads didn’t burst.

  The aromas of roasted meat and vegetables mingled enticingly with mysterious herbs and spices. Inside a massive steel glass-front oven, a pig rotated on a spit. Her mouth watered.

  By the time she and Kirsten emerged from the kitchen into the hallway, they’d been fed several pastries and tidbits of meat by the head cooks, Jonathan and Maria. Her stomach gurgled from the unexpected fullness.

  They continued on to a two-story open area studded with pots overflowing with pink blossoms. A set of white doors led outside. This would be the back of the mansion.

  Claire licked a smear of liqueur off her finger. “I thought it was bad to have two head cooks. Isn’t there a saying about that spoiling the broth?”

  “Um?” Kirsten screwed up her face. “Is there? Who cares? As long as I get fed. Come on. I’ll show you the gardens.”

  Once past the doors—three broad stone steps led down from a rear colonnade—Claire paused. This was the first time she’d been allowed outside the mansion. She’d been prepared for some hostile looks, yet every member of household staff had been friendly. It must be because Kirsten was by her side.

  For two or three hundred yards, a sea of grass stretched, pure green and mown to within an inch of the earth. Past that, eight low whitewashed buildings interrupted the flatness. Automatically, she put each of them into place on the map in her head.

  “This way.” Kirsten beckoned to the left.

  After checking the rows of vegetables with the ancient head gardener, George, Claire gained a new respect for gardeners. She’d planted seeds and watered and even had a try at swinging a hoe. June was George’s wife. She emerged from a small greenhouse and stood with arms akimbo, tut-tutting while shaking her head slowly at Claire.

  “Oh, June, I’m so sorry for what I did. Will you forgive me?”

  June sighed, wrinkling that squashed nose of hers. “Course I will. Come here, girl, and get a hug. It’ll make us both feel better.”

  Tentatively she walked up and put her arms around the woman. She was big and round and smelled of freshly baked bread and oranges. And except for Theo, she gave the best hugs ever, even if she was six inches shorter.

  “Thank you,” Claire murmured. This was all so strange—lovely but strange.

  Next stop were the kennels, but along the way, Claire found herself looking at her hands. They ached in new places from the rough handle of the hoe, and she’d raised a sweat from the effort. The smell of fresh soil and the sight of the green seedlings half uncurled in their seedbeds made her think of life.

  If I ever have to leave, what am I going to do? Every hour she stayed, made her want even more to stay. Would there come a day when she’d feel safe enough to tell Theo what she was and why she’d been on the airship? Hi there. I’m an assassin, and I may have been assigned to kill you. Maybe there just wasn’t a right way to say that. And maybe her secret was buried so deep in the PME military archives that no one would find out. If she left here, she’d miss more than Theo. There were things to do here she’d never imagined were worthwhile attempting. Gardening, of all things. She smiled a little sadly.

  Kirsten pointed across the open lawn. “That’s the barracks over there and the firing range and Henry’s vehicle depot.”

  A vehicle depot? Her professional curiosity prodded at her. “What sort of vehicles?”

  “Oh, Henry has the steam limousine and a little fast car thing, and then there’s the landships.”

  “Landships? As in mobile armored vehicles? With cannon and tracks?” Her voice peaked. “Whatever for?”

  Kirsten turned and did a dancing backward walk. “Don’t know really. Ask Dankyo or the colonel. Say…” She blushed, her cream complexion reddening markedly. “What do you think of Mister Dankyo? He’s rather cute, isn’t he?”

  “Cute!” What did she say to that? “Um…I suppose he’s quite handsome.” And intimidating and angry.

  “Handsome!” She giggled. “He scares me half to death but yeah”—she cocked her head—“I wouldn’t mind his arms around me. But, don’t you tell him I said so! Swear you won’t!”

  Claire shook her head. “I won’t. Never.” Lord. I have a hard time not getting shot by the man whenever he sees me, let alone talking to him.

  “Good. Phew. That was just girl talk, you know?”

  “Sure.”

  Now, that really nonplussed her. Girl talk—she’d only ever come close to that with Francine. She sneaked a sideways look. Maybe they could be friends, even if Kirsten was bubbly and didn’t understand Dankyo should only ever be touched with a long pole.

  In another of the low white buildings, in a cramped office beside the kennels, she met the kennel master. His desk was covered with books, pens, and paper.

  “Hello! Mr. Theo!” The kennel master was short, with thin tangled hair, and faded clothes.
Behind him, through a shut paneled door, came a cacophony of howls and barks.

  “Morning, Filip.”

  Claire turned to find Theo behind her. He rested his hand on her shoulder. This casual possession of her body made her look sharply at him.

  He brushed her cheek with his knuckles. “Miss me?”

  She took a quick breath. Where he’d touched tingled with heat. She paused, chagrined at how much he affected her. “Yes.”

  “Good.” His eyes softened.

  That pleased him. Knowing that made her giddy.

  “Kirsten. You can go back to your duties. Thank you, dear.”

  She curtsied. “It was a pleasure, sir.” She nodded at Claire and left.

  “Such a good time this is, Mr. Theo! The bitch, she is whelping soon! Tomorrow maybe.” He sniffed through his squashed nose. “And this is Claire! I have heard of you from June.” He bent and took her hand, kissed the back.

  “Oh. Have you? I’m pleased to meet you, Mr.—”

  “Filip! Just call me Filip. Come! Look at my babies.”

  His babies, as he called them, were wolfhounds. Behind the door, in a long narrow room split into runs, dogs ran back and forth, barking and whining. At the first run, a bitch with teats almost bursting with milk rested on a purple pillow. Her big eyes looked up at Filip with adoration as he jumped the little gate, then stooped to pat her.

  “Soon, hey, Angeliona?” He peeked at Claire. “She’s my favorite. I’ll be watching her all night to make sure her little ones come out all right.”

  She nodded. Angeliona unraveled her long legs, heaved onto her feet, then padded over to the gate Claire leaned on.

  “She wants a pat, Miss,” Filip said.

  The dog’s head cleared the waist-high gate easily. Her shaggy brown coat felt rough under Claire’s palm.

  “You are beautiful, Angeliona,” whispered Claire, squatting to pat her some more. “May you have many bouncing puppies.” The dog rested her chin on the gate, then slurped her warm tongue along Claire’s arm. Her doggy breath was sweet if reminiscent of fresh meat. Had she’d chosen to rise up on her hind legs, the wolfhound could have put her paws on Claire’s shoulders.