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

by Anya Summers

  Over the first few days after her return from Scotland, Ophelia made significant progress on the house. By mid-week, she had boxed up her sister's room entirely and shipped everything to her in Scotland, going so far as to hire movers to store the extra unused furniture in the storage shed out back. Ophelia wasn't shipping that. If Zoey desperately wanted any of the furniture—not that she would have any use for it in her castle—her rich fiancé could pay to have those items shipped internationally. Her other things had already cost Lia a small fortune in shipping fees. And she was going to need every penny from here on out. So she planned and budgeted for her and her baby's future. She had enough from her inheritance that if she was smart and spent wisely; she could make it through finishing her master's degree before needing to go full-time.

  While the movers were there that week, Ophelia also had them transfer her bedroom furniture into Zoey's room, completely emptying out own. She'd already decided this would be the nursery. It was closest to the master bedroom, and would suit better than Zoey's old room.

  Feeling pleased with the progress she had made on what she now considered to be her house, Ophelia resumed her classes, getting back into the rhythm of her life. If she felt like something was missing or woke in the night craving a calloused palm, she did what she was so superb at doing; she shut her feelings off, and went about her business.

  Lucy had finally dropped by mid-week and was now apparently making her own plans to invade Scotland to, as she put it, 'save her friend'. As much as Lia had tried to disabuse her of the notion, when Lucy got an idea stuck in her head, she was a hard one to shake from her desired path. Even when Lia informed Lucy that not only had she failed in her attempt at convincing her sister to return home, but had instead created a rift between them that was wider than the Atlantic—one which she had no clue how to mend—Lucy refused to be dissuaded. When Lucy had pressed her for more information on their disagreement Ophelia diverted the subject matter, refraining from providing a detailed explanation as to the nature of the fight or the full situation occurring at Mullardoch Manor and changed her tactics, wishing Lucy the best of luck with her endeavor.

  Who was she to say otherwise or try to disabuse her of the notion?

  By Friday night, Lia was exhausted. In the week and a half she'd been home, Scotland had begun to feel like a horrible nightmare. Well, except for Tobias. There had been nights she'd woken up wishing she had his warmth at her back. Moreover, she still had not found the nerve to tell him about the baby, partly due to the way she'd left Scotland. She should have said something to him, informed him that she was leaving, but she'd been in such a wretched state she hadn't even thought about it until she was in her private cab on the train to Edinburgh, and there she'd realized she hadn't said goodbye. This left her with so many problems where he was concerned. After her behavior, how could she even approach him? Even though she knew she'd probably be able to locate him, would he even give her the time of day? Nor did she know how to broach the subject about the baby. With a few words, she would alter his life forever. That didn't mean she shouldn't give him the opportunity to know that he was going to be a father. She definitely should do it, not for her sake but for her child's. It was just that she understood that once she told him, no matter what his decision was regarding involvement or not, she was going to rock his world—and not necessarily in a good way.

  Whoever said women glowed when they were pregnant, or that it was the best time of their life, must have been heavily medicated. Every morning like clockwork, Ophelia was in the bathroom by six, tossing her cookies. Her queasy stomach would last until about noon, after which she would nibble on saltines and sip chamomile tea for the rest of the day. She'd successfully added chicken broth last night, and hoped she could add milk tonight without adding to her queasiness.

  She missed her coffee, missed the caffeinated buzz that would hit her system. Her lower back ached from the simplest of tasks. Although the fact that she had been doing some serious redecorating could explain why her lower back was killing her, and now her boobs had developed a new level of tenderness. The doctor told her it was normal, but boy did they hurt. If she rolled over onto them in the middle of the night, it woke her up they hurt so badly.

  She was in her pajamas and robe by seven on a Friday night. All she wanted was to curl up on her reading chair with a book and another cup of chamomile tea. That and crackers seemed to be the only sustenance that would actually stay down, although her doctor promised her it should wane in her second trimester, which was only two and a half weeks away. Right now, as her stomach gurgled, it felt like eons instead of mere days.

  She had just opened her book when the doorbell rang. Shuffling to the door, she wondered who it could possibly be. Lucy should be somewhere over the Atlantic by now. Twisting the handle, Lia pulled the door open and froze.

  It couldn't be! How did he find her? It was not like they had exchanged information while she was at Mullardoch. Sweet merciful heavens, she was going to give her sister hell the next time they spoke. How could she? Was it revenge? He looked like a fallen angel standing on her front porch. The sun was setting behind him, bathing his honed body in an orange-gold halo as he stood there in jeans and a black tee-shirt. He had a few days' growth of beard covering his chin, making his appearance just a tad dangerous and oh so delicious, her insides curled in delight. Even Mother freaking Nature played his features up by ruffling his thick, burnished copper hair in the southern California breeze.

  "We have a lot to discuss, sweetness. Do you want to do it out here or are you going to invite me in?" Tobias crossed his arms over his chest, looking every inch the alpha Dom.

  Her neighbors were a curious lot, on this tidy little strip of road. Even now Ophelia could see Mrs. Barton four houses down, out watering her yard, violating state water restrictions and rubbernecking toward her house at the classic, fire engine red GTO parked in front and the man on her doorstep. Why did it seem that the universe was against her? The last thing Ophelia wanted in her life was to cause a scene for her neighbors to gossip about over their morning coffee. These were people who'd watched her and her sister grow up, who'd attended their parents' funeral and had stepped in over those first few months to lend a hand wherever it was needed.

  Tobias, damn him, had backed her into a corner. He had a tight smile across his lips, almost daring her to slam the door in his face. It would serve him right. The bastard knew she wanted to deny him entrance the moment it crossed her mind. Ophelia couldn't undo the mistakes of the past but she could ensure she didn't make any more of them. Tobias had been bad news from the start, but she had listened to her hormones instead of her brain.

  She stiffened her spine. She'd let him have his say, tell him about the baby, then see him to the door. He cocked an eyebrow at her as she prepared for what felt like a full-scale invasion. "Come in, Tobias."

  She retreated, opening the door wide so that it was flush with the wall and stepping to the side, giving him space to enter. His scent tickled her nose as he passed her by, that woodsy, spicy one with deeper undertones that were distinctly Tobias. Her chest tightened as she shut the door. Tobias stood in her living room, assessing the area. She realized he did that everywhere he went. It was like he was searching for potential dangers attacking from all corners.

  Pulling her robe tighter around her frame, she side-stepped around him and headed toward her kitchen. They would have it out on a battlefield of her choosing, with a table between them. "Can I offer you something? Tea? Coffee? I don't have any beer or soda."

  She wanted distance, needed it between them in order to maintain her composure, away from the sizzle of energy that always seemed present between them. It tugged at her heartstrings and made her want to throw caution to the wind. She couldn't let his nearness rattle her this much or she'd never get through the forthcoming interrogation.

  "Are you feeling okay?" His gaze assessed her pajama glamour, hair swept up in a clip, and pale skin.

  "I'm a
bit queasy at the moment." She notched her chin up. She knew she looked like hell. That her skin pallor was awful from the effects of morning sickness, like she needed a reminder.

  "Look, Tobias, we do need to talk. That night at the club…" Ophelia wrapped her arms around herself tighter. Standing in the doorway between the living room and kitchen, she faced him.

  "Yes?"

  "Well, the thing is, it's my fault really, but we didn't use any protection and I'm pregnant. I'm sorry I didn't say anything to you in Scotland. I had just found out and was all over the place on the subject, then you magically appeared in the one place I thought you weren't going to be."

  "I know about the baby. Zoey told me. Although I can't understand your reluctance to say anything to me, do you want this baby? Do you want my baby?" he asked, his voice low as he questioned her.

  She wilted, melting onto the seat of the nearby recliner. "Oh, Tobias, no, it's not that I didn't want to tell you or was trying to keep it from you. To be honest, I didn't know how. Life hasn't necessarily been easy around here, and when I found out I freaked out a bit. How should I have broken the news? 'Hey there, so I know we don't really know each other and, well, you see, that one night we spent together, well, we made a human, congratulations!' How do you have a conversation with someone when it's going to alter their entire existence?" Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. "Yes, I want this baby. I'm not going to lie to you, though. I'm terrified. I wasn't planning on becoming a mother just yet, and it changes all the plans I had for my life. Not to mention this morning sickness business sucks."

  He sat on the couch, catty-cornered to her chair. "How bad is it?"

  "It's not pleasant, but manageable. Look, I know this changes everything. I want you to know you can have as little or as much involvement as you want. Though I am going to make one request."

  "What's that?" he murmured, his eyes like liquid gold as the amber color shimmered.

  "You decide by the time they are born, how little or how much you want to be a part of their life. Not after the fact. I won't allow you to yo-yo in and out of his or her life when it's convenient for you. If you want to be involved, then you are involved, period. And I have the final say."

  "Is that right?" He quirked a brow, with the hint of a grin on his face.

  "Tobias, I won't negotiate on that. You can walk away right now, here, today, and your life doesn't change that much. While everything in my life is forever changed—I'm a single mother from this day forward. So, yes, when it comes down to what is best for my child, I will make the final decisions."

  "And what if I wanted to be involved full-time?" he asked, and something akin to hope fluttered in her chest at his question.

  "Okay. Then I would like to arrange a custody agreement with the court. If you are going to be involved, I think it would be a good place to start." It was the responsible thing to do, to have their agreement in writing so that there were no surprises.

  "Agreed, we'll do that." He nodded.

  She chewed on her lip as she studied him. She hadn't expected him to be so agreeable, not after everything that had transpired. "So you want to be involved? You're sure?"

  "Yep. One hundred percent. I won't let my child grow up without a father. I know only too well what that is like. Now that we have that settled, we have another matter to attend to." In a single fluid move, he pulled her into his arms and across his lap. He had her robe up over her head and her pajama bottoms down before the shock had settled in.

  "What the hell are you—"

  His hand thwacked against her bare bottom. The sting startled the breath from her lungs. "What the hell?" she screeched. "Get your hands off me."

  "No. This is for leaving and not telling me."

  Another three hand swats landed across her posterior. She could feel the heat spreading as his palm connected with her flesh.

  "But I just told you about—ouch! Son of a bitch!" She struggled against his hold as he disciplined her.

  "I'm not talking about the baby. I understand. But you left things unsettled between us."

  Ophelia was furious over the spanking. She was a grown woman, capable of making her own decisions. "Who the hell do you think you are? There is no us, Cro-Magnon man. Let me go, and get the hell out of my home."

  She bucked, struggling against his iron hold. She was going to kill Zoey for giving him her address. This went beyond revenge into downright betrayal. He didn't even break stride with the swats to her bare bottom as she wriggled herself into exhaustion. Breathing heavily, wetness leaking from her closed eyes, she stilled until he'd finished. The heat of her rosy ass speared volts of electricity straight to her sex, the walls of her vagina quaked and throbbed as need was awakened by the stirrings of passion.

  She lay there unmoving—even though he had finished tanning her backside; he had yet to release her. Instead, the same hand that had punished her so fiercely only moments before massaged the sensitive globes of her ass, kneading them and sending sparks of fire to her clit. Holding her down with one firm arm, his fingers toyed with her crease, delving between the slick folds and stroking his fingers over her pussy lips. She had missed the rough pads of his fingers, delighting in the feel of his callused hand as he caressed her vagina. The growl he emitted when he discovered moisture pooling at the V of her sex was nearly primordial, and her own body answered his call. Before she could protest, he thrust two fingers inside her waiting sheath.

  "Tobias." She moaned as his fingers plunged in and out with a furor that stole her breath. She ground her hips, tilting her pelvis, her body welcoming the sudden intrusion as he thrust inside her channel.

  The hedonism was so startling and so raw, Ophelia surrendered as it bombarded her system. Here was the one place she didn't have to have a plan for her life or for her baby. This was the one place where Ophelia lost the edges of indifference she wore like a shroud, and where emotions overrode her body, making her feel alive. Tobias added a third finger, her pussy greedily sucking on his digits as he drove her body into a frenzy of lust. She writhed, undulating her hips in time with his arduous plunges.

  This was what had woken her up at night, this yearning she felt for him and him alone. Tobias knew her body and how to make it sing with pleasure. And while that scared the crap out of her, she chose not to worry about that right now as she surrendered any resistance and just reveled in the heady finger fucking he was giving her. Her body tightened in on itself, riddled with hunger that increased with every stroke of his fingers inside her warmth. Her hips surged and thrashed, meeting his forceful thrusts.

  Then his hand halted its movements, his fingers still buried inside her pussy.

  "No, please," she whimpered, begging for the release that teetered just out of her reach.

  "Admit that there is something between us, that we are in fact in a relationship, and I will give you the release your body is begging me for."

  "What? Why?" Her befuddled brain tried hard to wrap itself around his ploy.

  "Because there is, and I don't want to hear any more denial from your lips."

  When she didn't respond right away, he withdrew his fingers, pulled up her pajama bottoms and set her on the couch in a sitting position. She stared at him dumbfounded as he sucked her juices from his fingers, and stood up, heading for the doorway. He was actually going to leave her this turned on, this needy.

  Like hell he would.

  Two could play that game. His hand was on the door handle by the time she reached him. Going on instinct alone, she placed her hands over his crotch, his erection straining the confines of his pants. Tobias stilled, did not give her any indication of whether he wanted her to proceed, waiting to see what she would do next, and whether she had the courage to go after what she wanted from him.

  One hand massaged the huge bulge of his erection while her other one undid the button and zipper on his jeans. She shoved them over his hips, her hands moving to the waistband of his gray boxer briefs. His eyes were hooded with desire as h
e watched her but he was making no move, waiting to see what she would do, leaving the ball entirely in her court. She slid her fingers beneath the soft material, pushing the cotton downward and freeing his rigid manhood.

  His dick bobbed, his erection jutting forward, proof that she had as much of an effect on him as he did on her sensibilities. Seeing his thick member, she licked her lips and swallowed, her breath shuddering from her lungs. Her fingers clasped his quivering cock, stroking lightly over the head and down the shaft. She tested the weight of his balls, maneuvering him until he was leaning back against the front door, and then knelt before him.

  The air was rife with expectancy, the heated energy which had always been present between them sparked like a livewire, engulfing her in flames. Holding his firm cock in her hands, she kept her gaze on his expression, studying his reaction as her tongue darted out, licking the salty drops of pre-cum glistening on the head in invitation. Tobias didn't move a muscle, nor did he make a sound as she teased the head of his penis with her tongue, running it around the ridge. He stared at her with a hunger stamped across his features that pushed her onward, and she noticed the muscles in his rock hard abs trembled under her caress.

  Eyes still trained on his, she wrapped her lips around the head of his penis and sucked his shaft into her mouth. He hissed, and his hips surged. He was fully undone as she used her mouth on him. She bobbed her head, moving her mouth up and down over his thick member, taking him as deep as she could. His hands threaded into her hair and he pumped his hips, fucking her mouth with abandon.

  She felt his cock lengthen and swell as his orgasm neared. She'd never swallowed a man's cum before but found herself wanting to taste him and swallow his seed down on a level that bordered on irrational. Moisture seeped from between her thighs, soaking her pajama bottoms. The edge of desire he'd left her body on had increased as she gave him head, her body throbbing and shaky with longing.