Iron Dominance (10 page)

But she
liked
it here. She liked Theo, and, oh, what he conjured from her body, she liked that too. This was the man she would have wished for, if she’d ever dreamed of rescue. Her notion of traveling to the Brito-Gallic League in disguise, hoping she could survive there—a half-baked fantasy, a dream. Here was real.

Yet, already, she’d lied to him, saying she was a bodyguard. If she told him they’d trained her to kill, it might turn him against her. No. She could never tell him. She drew in a deep, shuddering breath and choked out the words, “I’m sorry. I don’t know
how
to talk about things. I
can’t
!” Though she strained to stop herself, her body shook.

“Shh. You don’t have to talk. Oh, Claire, whatever is wrong, I’m sure I can help you fix it.”

Which, of course, only made things worse.

“Come.” He heaved himself off the lounge and hauled her up after him. “This couch is far too uncomfortable.” He tucked his arm around her. “We’ll go to my bedroom.”

That set her heart pitter-pattering all over again. Her untied pants threatened to tumble to her ankles.

“Wait.” She secured them with a bow. Theo took her hand, squeezed it.

When he reached for the doorknob and turned it, she tensed. Outside would be others, people who would look at her and wonder what had gone on in this room. Though she’d rather face swords and bullets, she squared her shoulders. Let them wonder.

Theo never wavered. Either side of the door were two guards, and down the hallway sitting on a timber bench beneath a triptych of oil paintings were Dankyo and two more guards armed with repeater gauss guns. They all leaped to attention. Did Dankyo never sleep?

“Sir!” He stalked toward them, his black stare flicking from her to where Theo draped his arm around her and back to Theo. “Is this advis—”

“Yes. It is,” interjected Theo.

Dankyo slowed then stopped a yard away. His hand went to his belt; he drew an inch of his sword from the scabbard and bowed slightly. “Perhaps sir would like my resignation? I no longer feel I am able to fulfill my duties regarding your safety.”

“No.” Theo’s single word crackled with menace. “I do not wish your resignation, Dankyo. I wish your compliance with my orders.”

His eyes on Theo despite the bow, he blinked for a moment or two, then straightened. Dankyo slid the sword back into the scabbard. “Of course. Sir. I always have your safety and best interests at heart. I apologize absolutely for my behavior if it offended you.”

“Thank you. Claire is not your enemy, Dankyo. Is that clear?”

“Yes. It is clear. Sir.”

“Good. Go to bed, Dankyo. These two guards only for my door.”

But even she could see the reluctance in how Dankyo responded. And when Theo turned and headed down the corridor, she watched the glitter of hate reappear in Dankyo’s eyes. With her hand held by Theo, she had no choice but to follow, though it felt as if someone aimed a rifle at her back, so vehement was Dankyo’s gaze.

Up the curving flight of stairs they went, past the sensual sculpture that had caught her eye an eon ago, along the curved passageway overlooking the foyer, to a double set of doors made of timber and riveted metal.

Just inside the doors was a minifoyer. Paintings hung on the walls. A display cabinet was filled with objets d’art. The middle shelf held an oversize pistol she didn’t recognize with a bronzed revolving barrel and a blue steel grip.

Theo tugged on her hand.

The bedroom was enormous. Two standing voltaic lamps graced either side of a large four-poster bed with posts of ebon and brass inlay. The red and black oriental quilt had been folded back in preparation for sleep. This was a man’s bedroom. No flimsy designs or pastels, no delicate ornaments, everything looked solid and perfectly capable of withstanding a rocket attack.

She stood there, unsure of where to go, as Theo went to a red lacquered suitcase sitting on a low table, clicked it open, and rummaged inside.

To her right, golden curtains framed a curved window jutting out past the line of the outer wall like a cockpit on a gyrocopter. The glass was sectioned into four pieces by metal rods. She strolled over. Outside was the airship, a giant darkened balloon outlined in moonlight, anchored by ropes to the grass.

The lamps in the room extinguished. Glass and metal reflected moonlight; the room was a soft, silvered darkness. Measured footsteps came closer. Theo hugged her from behind, his chin beside her ear, surprising her a moment, until she remembered how much taller he was than her. Her eyelids lowered a little. Excitement stirred the hairs along her arms.
What is he planning?

“Beautiful, isn’t she?” He ran his hand down her side, the silk softly hissing, then he tucked a finger into the pajamas’ waistband. “Almost as beautiful as you. I thought you might like to change into something more interesting.”

She caught his hand before he slipped it farther inside her pants.
More interesting?

“You want me to stop?”

“I don’t know.”

“Let me show you. If you want me to stop, you know what to say. Yes?”

She swallowed. “Yes.”

He freed his hand, undid the tie. The pants fell to her ankles in a susurration of cloth. With his lips kissing her jawline then the hollow of her neck, he crept his left hand down the opening of her shirt, popping the buttons one by one. Transfixed, she let him, only tilting back her head to offer her neck.

“I find…” he said, biting her and licking down the side of her neck. She shuddered, and her pussy clenched. Instinct owned her. She sighed and moved her buttocks back against him, feeling that hardness again.
What would it be like to have a man inside me
? “That your strength appeals to me.”

“My strength?” He shifted behind her, pulled her head onto his shoulder, and slowly kissed up to her cheekbone and across, then near each eye, making her shut them. She kept them that way. Without the distraction of sight, every touch seemed more potent. And he touched everywhere, as fleeting as a firefly, grazing his fingertips on breast and belly and thigh, then below her nipples, close enough to arouse them to hard points. When he stepped away, she swayed, lost without his caresses.

“Yes. You’re strong, self-contained. Aren’t you, Claire?”

She shook her head. “Maybe.” Right now, she didn’t want to think.

“Except now, with me. Controlling you, like this, means so much more. Keep your eyes closed.”

She did, feeling the seconds ache with promise. That he liked her strength was somehow…intoxicating, because already, she liked the idea of surrendering.
What will he do next?

“That’s my girl. It’s not that difficult, is it?” His voice teased her, amused yet filled with a fierce satisfaction.

“No.” She craved his touch.

Ah
! Something—his finger—had touched her hip, and he circled her with an unhurried
thump-tap
of heel and toe on the timber floor, as he ran that finger around her waist. The shirt, fully open, slipped from her shoulders. She felt the light brush as her underwear slid down to join the pants at her feet; then his hand, first at one ankle, then the other, made her lift each leg in turn. The pants and underwear were whisked away. She could hear herself breathe.

“Stay there,” he said.

She could smell him.

She almost opened her eyes to say something, but instead balanced there. Why she obeyed him, she wasn’t sure, but it satisfied something primal, something deeply sexual. And letting go like this made her feel safe.

Anticipation strung her insides tight. She yearned for further caresses. Her cleft swelled.

“Here. Raise your feet.” An article of clothing, both silken cloth and something harder, slid with muffled clicks up each leg. Theo arranged it about her torso, cool beads shifting across her breasts until the garment fitted snugly on her body. Something narrow settled between her legs. She gasped at a throb of pleasure as his fingers played in her moisture. A few more adjustments and he led her off to one side. A light flared on. “There. Open your eyes.”

In a tall mirror, she saw herself, dressed in a black corset paneled with satin. Coming down from a halter, pearl ropes fanned out over each breast with her nipples peeking out between. A tiny skirt of chiffon, divided at the crotch, barely made it as far as her upper thighs. Lines of seed pearls undulated down the satin, and a string of larger pearls dived deeply between her legs, emphasizing the split lips of her sex. She could feel it run up between the cheeks of her bottom at the back. Even as she looked, she felt a renewed throb, for every movement she made, from breath to heartbeat to shift of feet, moved the line of pearls and rubbed against her clit.

In the reflection, she saw Theo beyond her shoulder, bare-chested, the ringlets of his black hair stark against his forehead. He raised a satin and pearl choker and positioned it about her neck, clicking it into place. “And these,” he said, holding first one wrist and then the other to snick matching black satin bracelets on her wrists. “They suit you.” From the hardness, metal lurked beneath the black cloth.

Where the choker and bracelets rested on skin, her pulse rose, thumping, to the surface and reminded her of where she was, who she was with, and especially, how dangerous this could be. But…she trusted him.

To her surprise, her throat still worked, though the words seemed to stick to her tongue. “How did you know my size? Where did this come from?”

“Bought while I was away. I have a good memory, especially for someone as striking as you.”

Which meant, he’d planned her…seduction, while she’d been planning escape. She leaned back against him, fascinated by the allure of the woman in the mirror. The heat from his body soaked into her like a glass of wine. She lifted each wrist and examined the bracelets—identical, and each with tiny loops of steel projecting from them.

“That’s for a chain to pass through,” he whispered, mouthing her nape. “Does it bother you? Think, before you answer.”

“Yes…” she said slowly, fearful of being again restrained in cuffs.

“And yet?” He pressed a hand against her stomach, holding her against him, making her feel the rigid line of his cock. The pearls slid in her juices, pressing, rolling over her clit and anus. She let out a whimper. “Ahh. You feel them working on you.” He chuckled. “And yet?”

And yet the idea of it, of being restrained by Theo, held a strange and deadly fascination. She shied away from that thought and shook her head. “And nothing.”

“Aah. I can see my first project will be to get you talking more.”

She stood there in silence. The fear she felt came intertwined with lust in almost everything that Theo did to her. Taking her by the shoulders, he moved her to face him, gray eyes inches away; then his mouth descended, covering hers, devouring her. She breathed in his breath, letting him do as he willed. One broad hand held the base of her neck; the other splayed over the curve of her buttocks. His fingers wrapped around the pearl rope running between her legs, tightening it. Desire ran rampant through her, surging higher with every tiny movement of his lips on hers and the rub of the pearls on her pussy and nipples.

When she put her hands to the belt of his pants, he reached between their bodies, snared both her wrists, and pulled them round to the small of her back where he held them with one hand. Again, the pearls shifted. She bit her lip, a moan escaping her as she arched.

Eyes shut, she heard a soft animal-like growl.

“Claire, if you’re not damn careful, I’ll eat you up.”

What
? She opened her eyes a slit, still panting, to see that he’d stepped away a little, angling his stance so as to observe her.

His gaze brushed her, lingering on her breasts before he locked on her eyes. “Last chance. Do you want to stop? Are you too sore? It might cause me irreparable harm, but I can stop.” Then he eyed her darkly, as if he’d liked to do exactly what he’d threatened to—eat her up.

The pain of the bruise at her neck had faded to nothing in spite of the choker. With her whole being, she yearned for more of him. He inflamed her past bearing, and knowing that he watched her swept her excitement to another level.

She licked her lips, aware of her wrists still caught behind her and the display of her body. God, if he didn’t do more than this, she’d surely burst.

“No,” she said huskily. “Don’t stop.”

“Please?”

Ah, how he tormented her. “Please.”

“Over here then.” Still gripping her wrists, he urged her toward the bed, to kneel by the side of it and lie facedown across the quilt with her bottom up. He spread her hands, palm down, over each cheek of her buttocks.

“Don’t move,” he whispered in her ear, “and I won’t have to tie you.”

Tie me
? She almost let go at that. Was this what she wanted? But he held his hands over hers a moment. She stayed there.

“Good.”

His fingers trailed over the backs of her hands, over the ends of her fingernails, and down her thighs. She quivered, sucking in air through the quilt bunched beneath her mouth.

“Spread your legs, Claire.”

She shifted them, feeling even more exposed, a breeze caressing her engorged labia. He traced down the line of pearls, reached her wet cleft, and followed deeper, where the pearls seemed to have sunk into her flesh. Slick and wet. The scent of her lust reached her. Slowly he went farther until he reached her clit. He circled it, teasing, making her shift her bottom to place the finger just
right.

“No.” To her shock, he smacked one cheek of her ass with the flat of his hand, just missing her fingers.

Oh
. A wave of pleasure from the smack vibrated through her lower body. She froze and took a piece of quilt between her teeth.

Her taut nipples throbbed as they pressed into the bed. She heard him kneel. The end of a finger pressed against the entrance to her vagina, slipping in, then the smallest distance out, over and over while something, a finger and thumb perhaps, clamped softly on her clit and began to squeeze and release in exquisite rhythm. Two, then three of Theo’s fingers eased into her entrance, stretching her. Each thrust slid farther inside until her body climbed, brimming with tension, to the peak. The fingers slid all the way in, the finger and thumb squashed down tighter and faster. She wanted to move but mustn’t, couldn’t. Her clit became a swollen nub, bursting, wanting that last press. She shook and exploded over the edge, crying out into the darkness of the quilt, convulsing around his fingers.