Iron Dominance (17 page)

With one final push, his cock pulsed, and he came, erupting into her. She opened her mouth and screamed into the cushion at her own release. She lay there, almost mindless, shivering and throbbing now and then from the tardy yet delicious spasms in her womb.

When he pulled off her leggings, undid the buckles at her back, and rolled her over, she let him, so limp and exhausted, she could barely raise a shaky hand to wipe the tangle of hair from her face. Theo kissed her softly yet thoroughly.

“There, my love,” he said. “Let’s lie here a while. When you’re ready, we’ll swim.”

He pulled her in close to his side, cradling her in his arms.

Chapter Thirteen

Theo ran his hand along the sweet undulations of Claire’s waist and hip before tucking his arm over her and cupping the roundness of her breast. He smiled at the signs of exhaustion—the rise and fall of her chest and the urgent beat of blood at her throat. Underneath her skin, Claire was all woman, and he enjoyed arousing her, but even more so, he loved coaxing her along the path toward submissiveness, her natural inclination, and that she resisted a little, every step of the way, just made it tastier.

Sunlight gilded the tiny soft hairs at her nape. He drifted his fingertips across them just to see her quiver.

“Uh-uh. Don’t,” she whispered, crunching her neck to escape. “That tickles.”

“And this?” He used his teeth on the same spot.

“That, I’d like more of.” She curved her neck the other way, exposing it.

He chuckled. “Perhaps later. Are you rested enough for a swim? Can you swim?”

She sighed, hard. “Yes.”

“What is it? Hmm? Memories? You’ve not yet told me enough to satisfy my curiosity.”

No answer. He pinched her side, and when she only squirmed, he pinched her nipple, held it.

She jerked, then pawed at him, remaining silent, so he held on longer. Eventually she gave in. “What?

“I need an answer.” He released her nipple.

“We’re not still playing that game?” she said, tersely. “You said that Dankyo would handle this.”

“He can get the details. This is personal. You and me. An answer, Claire. We need to be honest with each other, and I suspect there is a great deal you haven’t told me. But you will. I won’t, can’t, tolerate dishonesty or evasion in an employee or a mistress.”

That brought on another silence. He could almost see her mind ticking over. Stunned, certainly. She hadn’t realized how much he’d guessed. This had to come out sometime.

Still silence. Perhaps a reminder was in order. He shifted his hand, wormed it down between them, found her little nether hole, and inserted the tip of his finger while securing her body with his other arm. “Or do I get to play here, next time we make love?”

She squeaked and wriggled even more. Though, damned be, if he’d ever held anything that wriggled so cutely before. His cock thickened, hardened. He pushed his finger in to the second knuckle, and she stopped moving.

“Is that…natural?” There was a breathless tone to her words.

“Maybe. Are you enjoying that?” Just to check, he slid the finger farther, made his other finger lie along her slit.

“I…I’m not sure,” she said quietly, but the twitch of her labia said otherwise.

“Hmm.” He nibbled her ear. “We’ll definitely have to explore this another time. But it doesn’t excuse you from answering.”

She sighed. “Am I your…mistress?”

“I hope so. If not, I have no idea who I’ve been making love to.” He maneuvered his lower hand and sneaked a finger into her cleft.

“Oh. Mmm. If this is your idea of torture.” Her bottom writhed back. “No. I’m sorry. Theo…” She swallowed, and his heart skipped a beat. This was the second time she’d said his name without prompting. “Swimming reminds me of training. I learned how to use a knife and fight in water. Things like that.” She shuddered. “I don’t like remembering. I don’t like killing.”

“And have you killed?” He found he’d held his breath.

“Once. They made us kill a prisoner each. Said it would harden us, make us stronger in combat.” Another shudder. “I threw up after. Do I have to talk about this?”

“No.” She’d said enough to make him wonder at what, exactly, her employers were aiming at. The training was extreme for mere bodyguards.

She’d said
in combat
, which seemed a little askew from being a bodyguard. He filed it away.
Perhaps that avenue of investigation could stand further probing
. The thought brought him back to the present and where his fingers were embedded.

“Find something else to tell me. Something pleasant about your past.” He couldn’t resist moving his fingers again, down below. It mightn’t have quite been appropriate considering what she’d just said, but it worked in distracting her. He figured she needed diverting as much as he did.

“You had a childhood, Claire? Surely they didn’t deny you that.”

Claire stayed quiet a moment as she felt his fingers stroke inside her. This felt odd, even uncomfortable, yet combined with everything else he did, it triggered ripples of heat.

“My childhood. We’re made to be about the same as an eight-year-old human,” she said, opening her legs an inch and letting her eyes drift to half-closed. “Does that shock you?”

“No. I knew this. Our country has studied the making of, uh, the birth of, frankenstructs for some time.”

“Birth?” She spat the word. She heard the hiss of exhalation from Theo. He withdrew his fingers.
Ah, now that was a pity.

“You’d rather another word, Claire? Words are just words. How we use them makes them what they are. And I say, you were born. Your childhood?”

She shrugged, wondering what he hoped to gain from this. “Rarely, they let us run about the compound or play ball. The training runs outside were fun but not like the children’s games in those books you gave me.” She paused. “Is it really like that, all the time, for children?”

“Not all the time,” he murmured. “But that someone is doing this deliberately to frankenstructs, simply to train you to do what they want…”

She turned her head and looked into those near transparent pupils, saw sadness there, and put up her hand to touch his cheek. “Thank you, Theo.”

He raised those thick eyebrows, questioning her.

“For being so…nice.”

“Nice?” His voice deepened to a sensuous baritone. “Nice is for men who wear frothy pink shirts and makeup.” He smacked the side of her bottom, hard, and she jumped. “Come. Time to swim.”

Naked, wading into the river, surrounded by reeds and water lilies, with the morning sun glinting off the ripples of water, and Theo by her side—it was beautiful enough to make Claire wonder, Why am I here?

Upon diving beneath the water, she saw the line between blue sky and the cold realm of rounded rock and drifting weed, submerged tree root and fish—it seemed to spell out the transformation of her life.
Why indeed. Why does Theo bother with me?

The other side to it, she thought, as she parted the cool waters with her skin, was to speculate what would happen when Theo suddenly decided she was no longer interesting. She had nothing to offer, except her body. No matter how much she willed it otherwise. It couldn’t last, could it?

Then why did it feel so genuine when he told her he wanted her as his mistress?

For a human, perhaps, it would mean little. A mistress wasn’t forever. To her, it was a world of difference from “slave.” The word made her someone of consequence, who mattered. Girlfriend, wife, fiancée, betrothed—any of them were wonderful because they all said she was a part of his world.

Yet humans are fickle. I know that too, and being a part of his world is no longer enough. I think…I know, I want forever.

More likely for the wind to always blow in one direction than for her to remain a part of Theo’s heart.

She did a swirling kick to roll and swoop toward him.

Enjoy. Stop worrying. What else can I do?

She blew bubbles in the cold water, surfacing near him, gasping for air. Hugging her from behind, Theo’s arms enfolded her below her breasts—hard, muscular arms. She felt across his biceps. Every muscle was delineated like a diagram from a book. No matter how much exercise she did, she never quite changed into this. His body pressed against her, and she laid her head back. Though their skin had grown cool, his breath warmed her cheek.

“What a lovely armful you are.”

“I could say the same.” She stretched back and ran her hand down his side. “I love the way you feel too.” She heaved a sigh. “The way you hold me.”

“Ahh. That’s some confession—from you, Miss Blabbermouth. Maybe if I tickle you some more, I’ll get even more out of you.”

She giggled and slipped down through his arms. With a kick of her heels she dived away.

“Hey! Come back!”

For a while they chased each other through and under the water, until he cornered her in some reeds and forced a wet, slobbery kiss on her. It made her giggle even more. They ended up lying side by side in the shallows, just holding hands and looking at the clouds drifting past overhead.

Theo pulled himself upright and sloshed toward the embankment.

“Swim’s over!”

“Oh.”

Rising from the water, she found Theo staring at her. Feet sunk into the shallows, he stood straight and apparently unaware of how much he affected her. All that chiseled muscle, those broad thighs beckoning her to lay a hand on him, and, oh dear, the ridges of his stomach leading the eye down to look at his groin—

“A river goddess,” he said, smiling. “Where have you come from? What have I done to deserve you?”

She blinked, then shook off some of the water dripping from her nose and eyelashes. A goddess? Embarrassed, she bowed her head.

“I’m the one who should be asking that.” She gathered a rope of her hair and wrung it out.

“Never.”

That struck like a spear into her middle.

Happiness wasn’t normal for her. That one extra comment, it hit and tipped over the pile of compliments and joy that had been building up for hours. Too much, too soon. She felt sick. Deep inside a black mess of insecurities and anguish waited to boil over. Too damn much.

She wished she could go back to how she’d felt only moments before. Glumly, she turned from him.

“Claire?”

She picked her way back up the bank, the rounded rocks slipping underfoot. From the looks of the sun it must be midmorning. She barely hesitated before aiming for the pile of clothing.

“Claire, don’t turn from me. Perhaps it’s time to remind you of my rules of politeness.” His words seethed with threat.

A distant crackle drew her attention. She slipped automatically into the alert state training had drummed into her—scanning the shadows under the trees a few yards away, listening. The revolver was holstered in Theo’s belt at her feet. She bent, scooped up the belt, and nestled her hand on the butt. The gun slid out easily. A nice weight. It would kick up and back when fired.

“There’s nothing here.” Theo stalked up behind her. “My men have been through here hours ago. If you’ve seen a footprint, it’ll be one of theirs.”

“No,” she murmured, still checking the perimeter. “Not a footprint.”
Something is out there and running. Maybe coming this way.

The loud crunching and rustling of something big moving fast came from the right, where the shrubs were barely four yards away.

She kicked into sharp time. The sound of Theo’s next words slurred and stretched. A black bear burst from the tree line, heading straight for them. Droplets of sprayed blood glistened, falling slowly, like red diamonds frozen in the sun. The bear was wounded and angry.

A bullet might stop it quickly, or it might keep coming and shred them both before it died.

“Get back,” she yelled to Theo. She aimed at the head—
Damn, I hate killing it
—then shifted and hit the foreleg. The impact spun the leg back and out before the bear compensated and came on, limping and even angrier. She side-stepped fast, then danced about wildly with her hands waving. “Hey! Here, stupid!”

Too heavy to shift direction quickly, it lumbered round, swung its head her way, and came for her, eyes gleaming. Yes, one very angry bear. Claire took off, sprinting, toes digging into dirt.
It’s coming
! She could hear Theo bellowing.
Ignore him. Mustn’t get too far ahead, or the bear’ll turn back.

A yard from plunging into the cool shadows of the forest, she heard a boom—echoing in sharp time like a cannon fired in small room. The high shriek of the bear followed, then two more shots, and silence except for the stamp of human footsteps from the forest and the burble of the dying exhalation of the bear.

One of Theo’s house guards, rifle in hand, jogged from the trees near where the bear had burst forth. She strode to him, sharp time bleeding away—her steps slowing to normal. When she grabbed at a handful of lapel, his meaty hand intercepted hers and crushed her fingers, tried to twist her arm.

Another guard came up behind her. She ignored him. This one was the idiot.

“Why?” she asked him, attempting to shake him by the shirt despite the pain in her fingers. “You fool! I had it chasing me! Why’d you kill it?” She glanced away, saw Theo coming, and the bear’s bloody corpse on the ground.

“Stop.” The second guard reached under, taking advantage of her distraction to bend her wrist, aiming for an arm lock. “Let him go. Put down the gun.”

“Frick!”
Dankyo
. She knew that controlled voice and the arm pressing on her. Theo was fit, but Dankyo felt like he’d been packed with muscle under high pressure. She growled and thought hard about
not
doing something seriously painful to him.

Succeeded, just. Instead she spoke through her teeth. “Release me.”

He pushed and twisted; then her counter move was efficiently thwarted by his.

“Gah!” The pressure made her bend forward as her arm rode up her back. He levered the gun from her other hand. Absurdly, she felt pleased at the level of his training. Her own inattention had gotten her in this position—well, the bear had distracted her. A poor excuse, though.