To Master and Defend (The Dungeon Fantasy Club Book 2)

by Anya Summers

  "What Zoey is attempting to say is that I asked her to marry me, and she has graciously honored me by saying yes." Declan brought Zoey's hand up to his mouth, placing a light kiss on the back, and not letting go.

  "I-I-I see. Congratulations! Welcome to the family, Declan," Lia murmured, her features withdrawn as she plastered a smile on her face. Except Tobias had seen it—her eyes had widened slightly in shock and her body trembled at the announcement before she slid an unreadable mask over her façade.

  "I'd like you to be my maid of honor, Lia. Won't you?" Zoey gushed as only a woman about to get hitched could do. Tobias didn't know what it was about the whole marriage thing that made normal, sane women lose their freaking minds, and turn to gooey mush.

  "When?" Lia couldn't keep the distress from her voice. Why he wanted to shield her from the volley was beyond him, but Tobias could distinctly infer that Lia was not pleased about this relationship, or was at least in distress of some sort. Was he the cause of her unease?

  "New Year's Eve. Isn't it wonderful?" Zoey babbled, glancing at Declan and beaming.

  "I'm sorry; I think I need to lie down. I'm overtired from the trip." Lia pushed back from her seat. She'd hardly touched the delectable meal, only nibbling on a roll. Her clothes seemed to hang off her. Had she lost weight since they'd first met? Tobias hoped she wasn't ill and really was just jet-lagged from her travels.

  "Sure. Excuse us, gentleman, while I get her situated." Zoey's infectious mood dampened a bit as she escorted Lia from the room.

  The unhappiness in his wounded bird's eyes made Tobias's chest ache for her. He would give her some time with her sister, and then he would make his move. He wasn't sleeping alone tonight, and neither was she.

  Chapter Four

  Ophelia ambled after her sister in a daze. Just when she needed Zoey the most, she had decided to abandon her entirely. Her sister was marrying Declan, which meant she would be living in Scotland. Ophelia doubted there was any chance of convincing Zoey to come home now. The whole thing made her feel weepy.

  Damn hormones!

  And how in the world was he here, of all the places on earth? She'd come here needing to get away from her impending motherhood and all the decisions she was facing. Ophelia wanted her sister nearby so she wouldn't have to face them all alone. He had been part of the issue she'd not wanted to address—not yet, anyway, until she'd had more than seventy-two hours to process the news. However, at least she now had the name of her child's father. Tobias Ford; it was a strong name, just like its bearer.

  Zoey was looking at her with disappointment clouding her visage. Jesus, Ophelia hadn't meant to upset her, especially after all she had been through lately with her job and all. She was glad her sister had found someone who made her happy. Although, she couldn't lie, she was concerned by the swiftness of the relationship.

  Zoey led her to a room on the third floor at the opposite end of the hall from the library. What a house—and a place for her sister to get stranded in—only Zoey would find herself in a castle. It suited her, more than Ophelia wanted to admit. Zoey opened a door and entered the room, expecting her to follow. Zoey shut the door after she entered, and turned to face her.

  "How could you be that rude?" Zoey accused her.

  "I'm sorry. I wasn't expecting to hear that you love him. I thought you were having a fling, and I—"

  "You what?" Zoey crossed her arms over her chest, her mouth drawn into a tight line. Rarely had Ophelia ever witnessed her sister's anger. Oh sure, they'd fought like cats and dogs growing up, but becoming orphans had brought them closer together so they'd been a team, a solidified unit taking on the world. Ophelia desperately needed her team back.

  "I came here to bring you home," Lia admitted with tears filling her eyes.

  "Jesus, Lia, I am home. Don't you see that? I've given up so much of my life over the last six years that it's time I do something that makes me happy. Declan makes me happy. I love him more than I ever thought myself capable of loving someone, and he loves me so much I'm amazed by it."

  Ophelia sucked in a breath. The tears she'd been holding back spilled down her cheeks. "So you were just going to abandon me without talking to me? Expect me to be happy that you're going to live on the other side of the world?"

  "Yes. You don't need me to mother you anymore, Lia. You can have the house to yourself now, finish your masters and doctorate, and live your life. What's so important that I need to be in Los Angeles? I don't have a job there anymore, and other than you and Lucy, no one else truly matters to me. So please, tell me what was so important that you had to fly five thousand miles for, to try to bring me home when I don't want to go? I love you but I have to live my own life."

  "I'm pregnant," Ophelia blurted, melting onto the blue couch. Her whole world had come crashing to a halt. And now she wouldn't even have her sister there to help her out. How the hell was she going to do this on her own?

  "Oh my god, Lia." Zoey enveloped her into a tight hug.

  The dam she'd been holding back, the panic-induced fear that gripped her soul, came tumbling out. Ophelia's body shook as she sobbed on her sister's shoulder. The terror she'd been carrying around since she'd discovered she was expecting poured out like a geyser. She'd never been so weepy in her life, and she prayed it was just hormones. Her sister stroked her hair, offering comfort as she always had throughout the years.

  "Do you want this baby? You do have options, Lia. You know that, right?"

  Did she want to be a single mother, had that been her life plan? No, not in the least. But now that the deed was done, Ophelia knew in her heart that she was going to have this child and raise it. It was her baby. Even in such a short period of time, she already loved the tiny life inside her. Could picture what he or she might look like, and all the things she would teach them. That didn't make her situation any less daunting—only more so.

  How would she tell Tobias? What if he wanted her to get rid of the baby, or didn't care one way or the other as long as she didn't bother him about it? As her crying jag subsided, bone weariness infused her limbs. She had to move forward knowing that in all likelihood she would be alone on this journey.

  "Yes, I do plan to keep my baby, but as for the rest, I don't know. This changes everything for me."

  "Of course it does. Who is the father? I didn't know you were dating someone. Why have I never met him?" Zoey asked.

  "It's complicated. You wouldn't understand." Hell, Ophelia didn't even understand it herself, so there was no way she could explain it to her sister. The lines of just how insane her life had become were never more evident than at this moment. She needed to get a grip.

  "Have you even told the father yet?" Zoey scolded her in that mom-like tone of hers, which only made Ophelia want to start weeping again.

  "Not yet. I'll handle it. I just needed you, and when I got the message that you weren't coming home, I freaked a bit. I can't do this without you, Zoey." She felt the fresh burn of tears, blinked them back, and hung her head.

  "Let's talk about this later. Why don't you get some rest this afternoon and then we can discuss it more tonight." Zoey maneuvered Lia, pulling her to the bed, and mothering her like she had after their parents had died.

  Ophelia let her. "Thank you, Zoey. I really am happy for you. Declan seems like a wonderful guy. Can I ask that you not tell him?"

  The last thing she needed was for Tobias to find out before she'd had the chance to talk to him, and if he and Declan were friends, the implications could be a disaster in the making. Her life was one big conundrum.

  "No. I'm sorry, I can't do that. He's going to be my husband, Lia. I won't keep secrets from him, even for you. What I will do is tell him in the privacy of our room so no one else will overhear, and ask him to keep it between us. Okay?"

  That would have to do for now. "Thank you."

  "Get some rest. I'll come get you for dinner this evening." Zoey exited the room, flipping the light switch off, and leaving Ophelia alone with her
jumbled thoughts.

  She stared at the darkened canopy, imagining a million different scenarios, confident that she'd never be able to settle her racing mind enough to sleep. Jet lag ended up being more powerful than her anxieties, and tugged her into a dreamless sleep.

  Chapter Five

  Tobias ran a hand over his face as he stared out the darkened window of his room at the shadowy outlines of the highland mountains. This far north and away from civilization, the Milky Way gleamed like an effervescent river through the night sky. He liked everything about Scotland, except for the cold. If he could transplant the barren wilderness to southern California, that would be ideal.

  Dinner had been a disaster. Lia had avoided him all evening. His attempts at flirting had fallen flat. A lesser man would have thrown in the towel, moving on to less difficult conquests—except Tobias had seen a hint of a blush every time Ophelia looked at him. She desired him; her gaze had been downright carnal when she did look his way. Then she would blush, shift in her seat, and go back to talking to her sister and Declan.

  He'd made it a habit to study women, and his little wounded bird was more skittish than some of the horses he'd come across on the battlefield. One wrong move would send her scurrying for cover. His desire for her was unreasonable. Sure, he'd loved and lost other women in his thirty-two years, but none had ever gotten under his skin this way.

  In the intervening weeks since their one night together, she'd become his obsession. He should forget her, since she was so obviously not doing anything to attract his attention. What he should do was head down to the Dungeon Fantasy Club, and see if there was a willing sub he could lose himself in for the night.

  The problem was, he didn't want just any sub—he wanted Lia. He wanted to hear her breathy little gasps of wonder, feel the tight fist of her pussy around him, and indulge his Dom heart. He had so many fantasies stored up about the two of them, he could keep her in bed for the next month and not run out of all the things he wanted to do to and with her. Whether she was, in fact, a sub was another matter entirely, and one he wanted to explore. He'd bet money on the fact that, underneath her brave exterior, Lia was a sub just waiting for the right Dom to unlock her potential.

  Glancing at the clock, he saw it was a quarter past ten—not really that late by his standards, especially with the time change Ophelia had experienced—but the longer he waited, the harder it would make this. Tobias was too keyed up to sleep knowing how near she finally was to his proximity. She was in the Queen Victoria room three doors down from him in the King James bedroom. It was time. He rolled his shoulders, like a boxer about to step into the ring.

  He trod quickly between the two rooms, knocking on her door before he could retreat, fully committing to the path before him.

  A sleepy, seductive Ophelia answered the door wearing a midnight satin robe, her chestnut hair slightly mussed. Her doe eyes widened as she spied him. If it weren't for his quick reflexes, she would have shut the door on him. He caught it with his hand.

  Her eyes narrowed slightly before she hid her disquiet. She allowed every ounce of her annoyance to spill forth when she spoke. "It's late, what do you want, Tobias?"

  Pleasure rumbled in his chest over hearing his name uttered from her lips.

  "We need to talk." He pushed his way in, crowding her space, either forcing her to put her hands on him or retreat. She choose retreat, but not by much. She stood her ground a few feet inside the room, not allowing him near the couch or bed, crossing her arms in a defensive stance against her chest.

  She was magnificent.

  "So, talk." Her defiant attitude rippled off her.

  "Why did you leave the club that night without even waking me?" It irked him that her actions had affected him so much. That he had bled a little every time he recollected that night. He'd never had an encounter quite like it, and it had left an indelible mark.

  Shock mingled with confusion across her lovely face. "I don't understand. I thought it was just a one night thing. You didn't exactly introduce yourself to me, either."

  Desire, almost imperceptible, flashed in her eyes, and then she hid behind a mask of indifference. His body responded in kind, almost as if awakening from a deep slumber, as he scented her arousal. She wanted him.

  He stalked her, advancing into the room, making her backpedal until her body touched the lip of the sofa. Towering over her, he closed the distance.

  "That's because I had your tongue in my mouth at the time, sweetness. Something I have wanted a repeat of since that night." His hands held her face, tilting her chin back so she was forced to stare in his eyes. He held her there, his face no more than an inch from hers, watching all the tiny changes at his nearness.

  Her warm breath washed over him, still holding a hint of mint, her pupils dilated, and he noticed the pulse in her neck was racing at a frantic rate. It was all the encouragement he needed. Hungry for his little bird, he kissed her with all the pent-up frustration he had felt about her disappearing act. He wanted to brand her as his woman.

  Her soft dainty hands curled against his chest. Her nails dug into his skin and he growled.

  "Tell me you don't want this, Lia. Tell me now, and I'll go," he murmured against her cheek, rubbing his stubble beard across her skin. It didn't mean he wasn't going to do whatever he needed to in order to persuade her; on the slim chance she said she didn't. In an effort to lobby his case, and because he'd dreamt about having his hands on her again, he snaked them underneath her satin robe to cup her silky breasts. Gone was his normal candor at seduction; he wanted—no, needed—to find his release inside her again with a furor that stole all rational thought from him. He ran his thumbs against the tight peaks, marveling over the silk of her flesh. She was so soft against him. He felt his dick lengthen, hardening at such a simple touch.

  When she didn't reply, he pulled back and peered at her, his hands playing with her nipples. Desire suffused her gaze. Never taking her eyes off his, she ran her hands down over his chest. His muscles quivered at her light touch.

  "Don't go," she said, her breath hitching in her throat as he circled the pads of his thumb around her nipples.

  On a groan he claimed her lips, pushing the lapels of her robe open, exposing her lush body beneath. The little fact that that she wore nothing underneath sparked the inferno blazing inside his veins and it spilled forth. He drank from her lips, re-learning all the contours, valleys and dips, sucking on her tongue.

  He took his time, exploring her neck, inhaling her scent, nibbling along her collar bone. He was in heaven as he sucked one of the dusky rose peaks into his mouth, lapping at the pert bud with his tongue until it surged into a rigid point. Her mewling cries drove him wild and his cock strained against the confines of his pajama pants as he traded one firm breast for the other, giving its twin the same treatment.

  Then he lowered himself to his knees, caressing his hands over her abdomen, loving the slight swell, and then he spread her lush thighs to display the glistening folds of her pussy. His dick jerked at the beautiful sight, urging him to ignore any foreplay and sink himself inside her tight sheath. Taking a deep breath, the scent of her arousal permeating his senses, he positioned her hands at her sides on the lip of the loveseat.

  "Don't let go of the sofa arm, understood?" he said. They'd never even gone over the basics. That he was a Dom at heart. He wasn't firmly in the BDSM camp, nor was he a strict Dom. He didn't need obedience outside of the bedroom, finding a woman rather dull if they couldn't think for themselves, but, in the bedroom or where ever the hell he was with a woman physically, he needed the absolute control and the complete surrender. He found absolution when a sub willingly submitted and allowed him to bind her, to use whatever was at his disposal to bring her release, including a bit of sadism. But then again, from the beginning, Ophelia had seemed to sense his need and answer it unquestioningly, fitting him in a way no other woman ever had.

  "Yes," she moaned as he placed his mouth over her pussy and tongued her
with no further preamble. Her honey coated his tongue as he teased it over her clitoris until that little nub was swollen and engorged. He lapped at her hood, stroked over the delicate folds of her labia, and then thrust his tongue inside her sheath. All the while, he watched her responses, discovering what drove her crazy. He held her still, not allowing her to wriggle away as he slurped at her clit. He pressed two fingers inside her tight channel, thrusting his fingers in and out in a steady rhythm. Her sweet cries of ecstasy were driving him insane. He inserted a third digit, loving the slick feel of her muscles as she clutched around his fingers, sucking them into her warmth.

  "Please," she begged.

  "Please, what?" He released her clit, his fingers still buried inside her tight pussy but he'd ceased his driving rhythm.

  She growled her frustration and he almost smiled.

  "You're going to have to spell it out for me, sweetness. I'm not a mind reader. Tell me what you want."

  His gaze was unwavering as she battled inside herself whether she would surrender to the thrilling passion sparking between them or walk away. She was fascinating, so carnal, so damn sexy it made him want to beg, and yet she tried to control her needs, to hide them away. He wouldn't permit that, pushing her boundaries and making her accept her own urges. There was a freedom in owning up to what got your rocks off. There would be no secrets between them, he wouldn't allow it. She was his, whether she knew it yet or not. Desire and need won, he felt the moment her body unclenched.

  "I want to come. I want you to make me come." She whimpered her admission.

  He rewarded her capitulation—taking her clit between his teeth, he bit down on the swollen bud, fucking her forcefully with his fingers. The walls of her pussy clenched as her orgasm hit her system. She was gorgeous as she came. Her eyes fluttered shut and she cried out her release, the plunging of his fingers never stopping until he felt her body relax.

  They weren't done yet, not by any means. He withdrew his fingers, licking them clean, and stood. He positioned her arms around his neck.