I entered the kitchens and saw Kitty emerge from the hallway. She had just come from the salon.
“Kitty, I’m glad I saw you. Has the Mata arrived yet?”
“No, not yet,” she said. “I like that outfit on you, though. You look much better in it than Gorge does.”
“Thanks. Um, Kitty?” I looked at her sheepishly. “I need your help.” When I saw the confusion on her face, I continued. “Will you bite me?” I pointed toward my chest.
Kitty’s placed her hands on cocked hips and gave me a sour look. “First Shani, then Oni. Oh, I heard just tonight that you went and hired Kaeda...several times. And I didn’t get to watch once!”
“That was purely educational,” I said.
“I’ll bet it was,” she grinned. “So now you think you’re going to work your magic on me?”
“Is it working?” I grinned hopefully.
She leaned over and bit me, hard. I gritted my teeth at the pain as she sawed at my skin with her teeth and sucked on my nipple. Just when I thought I couldn’t take anymore she released me, staggered back, and wiped saliva from her mouth with the back of her hand. “A little. You know, you should be thankful. I usually get paid to do that.”
“Ow,” I said, rubbing at the now inflamed flesh. “I’ll give you a tip later,” I said as she turned for the stairs.
She grinned over her shoulder. “Just the tip?”
I made to swat her backside, but she was too quick. She squealed and poured on the speed, running up the stairs to get ready for her next appointment.
“Thank you,” I called after her. Her continued giggles were my only response.
I shook my head and headed for the salon. I heard the general chatter stop as I rounded the corner and knew that I had timed my arrival perfectly.
I walked in to see the Mata striding toward the center of the room. She was alone. Her dark hair was loose and brushed to cover one pale shoulder. Tonight, she wore a dress that was deep red, the color of my favorite wine. It hugged her hips, then faded and flared to a purple-gray cloud that swirled about her feet. I quite liked it. She wore pearls on her wrists and ears, and around her throat was tied a pale silk scarf, dyed violet with script written in blood. I couldn’t read it from where I stood, but I knew what it said. It read: ‘Don’t be late.’
“I see you got my note, Lady Mata,” I said. “Where is your guard?” I looked around the room as though searching for him.
“I ordered him to wait outside for the duration of our appointment,” she said. “I felt it necessary, concerning recent events.”
“You are referring to our correspondence?” I asked. “Nonsense. Simple flirtations. Surely they would not begrudge us a bit of playful banter. I have nothing but respect for the Mata’s Guard. Shani, be so kind as to invite the gentleman in.” Shani slipped through the door.
“I ordered him outside for your protection,” the Mata said. “The entirety of my guard is quite upset with you at the moment.”
“Oh posh.” I waved her comment aside. “You wrote to me expressing your affection. I would have been rude to not respond. Mere teases and promises between lovers.”
“We are not lovers,” she said.
“Then why are you here?” I dropped the playful demeanor entirely and stared at her. Her face reddened in anger.
“What is that?” the Mata demanded, motioning to my chest.
I looked down at my breast. It was red and inflamed, swollen from Kitty’s bite. Her teeth marks were livid red. “Oh, that? I was recently attacked by a ravenous hound. I barely escaped with my life.”
Shani opened the door wide. “Evan, the guard won’t come in. Says he’s under orders.”
I frowned and scratched my chin. “I apologize, Shani, perhaps you weren’t the right person for the job. He may be more enticed by another.” I turned. “Gorge.”
Gorge snapped to attention, his fist covering his heart. “Sire!” If you had asked me, I would have said that Gorge looked ridiculous in his stockings and frilly skirt. But I wasn’t one of his clients. Gorge was the maestro, after all. He had given me the outfit that I was wearing, and despite my misgivings, everyone seemed to love it.
“Invite the young man in. Maybe you are more to his liking.”
“Sire!” He slammed his fist over his chest again and marched for the door. His slippered feet stamped as loudly as they could on the plush carpets.
Gorge was overplaying his part. I approved. The outfit he had given me was ridiculous, but his reaction to my commands added to the effect of my costume. I owed the man ale, lots and lots of ale.
“That will not be necessary,” the Mata said, not looking away from me. I grinned at her. “Malcius. Come,” she called over her shoulder. The guard dutifully responded. He glared daggers at me, for all the good it did him.
I waited until he was behind her before I stepped into her space. My chin nearly rested on her shoulder as I looked the guard in the eye. His hand went to his sword, but he didn’t interfere.
“‘Malcius, come,’” I chuckled softly in her ear. “Try that on me later. I don’t know if it will get you anywhere, but it’s worth a try.” I grinned at Malcius.
The man scowled at my taunt but held his place.
I stepped back. “This man is loyal and deserves a reward,” I said as I looked around the room. “I will cover his expenses for the night.” Shani slid up next to him and took his arm. He looked down at her and shrugged her off. His hand did not leave his sword hilt nor did he cease glowering at me.
“All of his expenses,” I said. Shani retook his arm and Oni slid in on the other side. Elsbeth appeared with a bottle and a glass to hand to Oni.
I looked at the Mata in challenge.
“I will be safe enough, Malcius,” she said. “See to your own needs until I call for you.”
“Will you?” I asked. “Be safe in my care?”
“You wouldn’t dare harm me,” she replied.
“You don’t know me nearly well enough to judge, Mata, but you will.”
The man saluted and then let the ladies lead him away, Oni carrying the tray of wine.
Once he had started up the stairs, I returned my attention to the beauty in the wine-dark dress. “Shall we?”
The Mata moved not a muscle, though she smirked in triumph.
“Ah, but we still haven’t been introduced. Where are my manners?” I turned to Nan with a questioning look. She nodded graciously. I rendered a bow to the Mata that would command proud respect in any court. “My Lady Mata. I’m Evenar Hostric. Please allow me to be your host this night.”
“Finally.” She rolled her eyes.
“My Lady,” I said, “you will be given three opportunities to depart here, unmolested, as it were, not a finger laid upon your lovely person. After that, you may leave whenever you wish, but I cannot make any guarantees regarding your…condition. This is the first of these opportunities.”
“Are you saying you are going to harm me? Do I need to call my guard back?”
“No need for the guard, My Lady. I will do nothing you don’t want me to do. If you wish it, I will do nothing to you at all.”
The Mata smiled. “We are in a brothel. If you do nothing to me, you won’t get paid.”
“Perfect.” I grinned. “Right this way then.”
To Tame A Shrew
The Mata stepped into my bedchamber at the top of The Velvet Pearl, strode to the middle of the room, and began unlacing her dress.
“Not yet, Galateia,” I said as I closed the door.
The woman spun on me. “How dare you use that name? I have not given you leave to speak it. You will call me Mata, or mistress.”
I laughed. “That’s ridiculous,” I said. “This is your second chance to leave untouched.”
“Why you—She stepped toward me and drew her hand back to strike, but I lunged, stepping so close I could smell the perfume she wore. It was the one I had laid out.
My motion halted her advance lest she run i
nto me. She took a staggering step backward. I followed like a predator who had just spotted his next meal.
“You’re late,” I hissed, my face hardening. I reached out and flicked the scarf she had tied about her neck. “I thought my instruction was clear on that point, Galateia.”
“I don’t answer to you. I am the one paying. You answer to me,” she snarled.
“I answer to no one. You had best remember that or we’ll not get on at all.”
“But—”
“But nothing!” I paced around her. “I could forgive your tardiness,” I said, putting on a generous air. “You didn’t quite understand what you were getting yourself into. It doesn’t matter, though…because after tonight you will.”
“This is a brothel, and you are a whore. I have more coin than I will ever be able to spend. What I am getting myself into is clear. Now, bring yourself here, get stiff, and get to work.”
I grinned dangerously. “That is not how this works. You see, you make demands and they get followed. That is your right as Mata, after all. But you came here—to me. You want something from me. You want something that you can’t get elsewhere. I wonder what that is.”
“I would think that would be obvious,” she scoffed.
“Would it? Do you even know what it is you want?”
“You are getting at something. Spit it out already.”
“I will, but first I need you to tell me that you want to be here with me. This is your last chance to leave untouched.”
The Mata snorted indelicately. “I am not leaving here until I get what I came for.”
My hand shot out quick as a bolt, and my fingers locked around her throat. “Good enough for me,” I growled. The Mata’s eyes widened in shock. It was highly unlikely that anyone had ever dared to assault her like this before. After all, she was the Mata.
She tried to twist away, but I was too strong for her. When she could not escape my grasp, she fumbled inside the slit in her dress. I caught the glint of light on steel as she withdrew her hand and I grabbed her wrist before she could plunge the thin dagger into my ribs. I looked deep into her emerald green eyes. They were wide and fearful.
“Very naughty, Galateia,” I said, shaking my head in disapproval. “I’ll have to punish you for that.”
I squeezed the sides of her neck until her eyes began to glaze, then eased the pressure. She swayed with dizziness, but I held her upright.
“Do you feel that?” I asked, bobbing in front of her to hold her eyes as she struggled to remain standing. “That is battle lust. The healers say that it is a humor of the body that makes one alert and wary. It gives you strength, gives you a rush of feeling. Tell me, Galateia, is this the first time you have felt true fear?”
Her eyes began to track me again. They were thoughtful. She’d heard me.
“Release me. This is not what I came here for.”
“Is that what you want? I will do as you ask.” I freed her so suddenly it startled her.
I took a step back to give her space. She needed it. She looked as though she might explode at any moment.
“How DARE you touch me without permission!” she screamed. “Who do you think you are that you feel you have the right to assail me?”
“I have permission, Galateia! Three times I asked you if you were sure. Three times you agreed. If you wish to revoke your consent, you may. But you haven’t! You don’t like the way I handle you, then leave!” I pointed my finger over her shoulder in the direction from which we’d entered. “here, let me get the door for you. It seems your delicate nature prevents you from completing simple tasks.”
I moved to go past her but halted at her side. I met her eyes. They were a deeper shade of green than when she arrived. With her face flushed with anger and her nostrils flaring with each rise and fall of her chest, I found myself…aroused. I was excited from our little tiff, and I wanted nothing more than to take her right there on the floor.
“I don’t think you have the courage to stay,” I said, “but I think you want to be here. I think you need to be here.”
“Why would I possibly want this?” she hissed.
“Because you’re finally feeling emotions that you have craved for a very long time. Something different—feelings you can’t get with your husband or anyone else. But if you truly wish it, you may leave and I will never trouble you again.”
“You impudent fucking whoreson!”
I looked at the Mata, and my eyes widened in shock. “Do you pleasure your husband with that foul mouth?”
“He has his little whore for that,” she snarled.
“If you don’t leave now...I’ll have one, too.” I made for the door and just touched the latch when she launched herself at my back.
I dodged to the side and pushed her arm wide, then grasped her forearm and spun her, pushing her back against the door and pressing my body against hers as she tried once more to push the knife into my flesh.
I would have never imagined I could be so attracted to a woman that wants to stab me, I thought.
Her breathing came hard, and all I could see was her face as we fought for control of the knife. I didn’t try to take it. I didn’t force her arm still. I saw the anger and defiance in her eyes, and I felt my arousal burn hotter. I realized I enjoyed seeing her struggle. I tightened my grip on her wrist.
“Enough, Galateia!” I said. “I have a proposal for you.”
“What is it then?” she snapped.
“I will free you and you may leave…”
“I came here for a reason and I’ll not leave until I have it!”
“...or,” I continued, “you can stay and we can play a game.”
She looked intrigued at that.
“Go on,” she said hesitantly.
“We dance our dance and you can try and lead if you wish. Either way, you will get what you want. The question is, will I give you what you want, or will you take from me what you desire? You can even try to kill me again if you wish. I think I would like that, actually. I will take the knife and if you can reach it, you can keep it till morning. What say you to that?”
The corners of her mouth quirked up in a devious grin as she thought about it.
“What will it be, Galateia? The door...or the knife?” I asked.
“The knife.”
“Oh, this is going to be fun.”
I disarmed her with a well-practiced flick of my wrist. With my other hand, I reached up and grabbed a fistful of her hair. I brought the knife in front of her face so she could focus on her goal. Her face revealed her hunger and she licked her lips. When I swept the knife downward, she stiffened and her eyes slammed shut. I made a clean slice from her cleavage to just above her groin. Her dress threatened to fall completely off her. She finally remembered to breathe when she realized that it wasn’t her flesh that I had attacked but her wardrobe. I held her at arm’s length, my fingers wrapped in her hair, and admired her body amid the rags I had made of her expensive dress.
“Exquisite,” I breathed, taking in her smooth, pale skin. I ran my fingers down her neck and along her chest. Her skin pebbled as my fingertips traced her breasts and then lower to her stomach, before disappearing below the end of my knife-cut. I looked into her eyes, and my fingers explored her flesh. “You are a work of art, Galateia. Priceless and flawless. It would be a shame to own such a masterpiece and not display it. Don’t you agree?”
I pulled us away from the door then, dragging her by her hair as she flailed against me. She lost a shoe. I slammed her against the window with such force that it stunned her, and I stabbed the knife into the window frame. Ripping free a curtain tie, I bound her to the wrought-iron hook on that side of the window. I went for her other hand and had to slap it away as she tried to reach across for her blade. Regaining control, I secured her other wrist and stepped back to observe my handiwork.
“The draperies are in the way,” I said in a bland tone. One of the heavy curtains had indeed fallen and stood between the Mata’s
face and the paned window. “That won’t do.” I reached out and yanked the panels free, and tossed them into a corner.
I stepped up behind the Mata and pressed myself into her back. The tips of her breasts touched the night-chilled glass, and she flinched in reflex.
“You said I could leave anytime,” she whispered in pants as though those in the street below could hear her.
“You may...if you wish. Say the word and I will release you now, and you may collect your things and go. I don’t think you will though.”
“This is degrading.”
“Yes, it is,” I said. “But why? Is it degrading because you want this to happen? Or is it degrading if they know who you are? Can they see?” I leaned further forward, my chin on her shoulder. I pressed her body to the tall glass and whispered in her ear. “I wonder if the reflection from the lanterns below will glare on the window,” I mused. “I admit, I didn’t think to check.” I shrugged and as close to the Mata as I stood, she felt it. “Who knows? But how many are looking? None, yet. Perhaps when they hear you call out to them, they will look up and see. But what will they see, Galateia? Perhaps they will see nothing but a silhouette pressed against a window. Exciting? Yes, but not terribly out of place for an establishment such as this.” I paused, my breath hot on her neck. I felt her body shift with excitement, and I ran my hands over her breasts and stomach.
She ground back into me. I shifted my chin to her other shoulder, the move so abrupt it made her jump.
“Or perhaps they will see their Mata strung up and taken and grateful to be displayed.” I glided my hands lower and heard her moan, low in her throat. “How many hate you and want to see you suffer? How many will cheer you, their Mata? Will they applaud? How many just want to see your tits? Would you deny them, Galateia?”
She squirmed harder. Her eyes were shut tight as I whispered my intentions for the night.
“Don’t close your eyes, lover. Meet their gazes and call to them. Make them want to watch you as a strange man takes his pleasure from your body, and you helpless to stop him. Galateia Haemund, helpless. Who has ever seen that? Meet their eyes. Challenge them to see you. Call to them, my dear.”
Oathbound: The Emperor's Conscience, Book 2 Page 15