Marked for Surrender (6 page)

"You left a mess, Christophe,” she said in a hard tone that made his cock leak. She waved her hand near her perfect pussy shining with cum.

He knelt in front of her, his hands clasped behind his back, his mouth level with her exposed flesh. “May I, Mistress?” he asked, everything focused on his goal.

"You may,” she said. “But your mouth only, slave."

He bent his head down to her knee and began with the dribble of Zevon's cum that slid down her inner thigh. The taste was so familiar and so good. He licked her skin, soft and firm. Slowly, he made his way up to his goal. When he reached her reddened lips, ripe with arousal, shining with the evidence of her collision with Zevon, he gentled.

His exploration was thorough, delving into the nooks and crannies, the dips and valleys. To pleasure her, to care for her made his cock leak and his mind spin. Keeping his damn hands behind his back was torture.

She lifted her leg and hooked it over his shoulder, giving him better access. He buried his face in her cunt, letting her sweet cum fill his mouth and nose. He licked her, increasing the pressure. His tongue dipped inside her slick channel. When she thrust her hips, it almost snapped his head back, but he held his own. Stars, his dick was an iron bar of need and desire.

The fact that Christophe knew Zevon was watching, probably getting turned on by what they were doing, only added to his arousal. Mistress Andia ground her hips into his face; her hands dug into his scalp. His teeth scraped over her clit, wanting her release, needing it.

"Do you want me to come, slave?” Her voice was steady, calm.

He lifted his head and surveyed her face.
Yes!
“Only if you wish to, Mistress."

Her eyes narrowed. “You lie,” she whispered and yanked his head back. He groaned. Christophe knew what Zevon would do to him for lying. What would this woman do?

Her torment knew no bounds. She used her boot to shove him backward. His cock rose away from his belly under her stern look.

She jerked her head toward Zevon. “What did he do when you lied?” she asked with uncanny insight. He licked his lips and shot a glance at Zevon, whose hot gaze held his for a split second. “Answer me,” she snapped.

"He harnessed my cock and fucked me in the ass.” Again and again. Did Zevon remember that night? Christophe didn't lie. It wasn't his thing. But that day he'd tried to spare Zevon, protect his dominant from the power of his feelings.

It was the day he'd declared his love for Zevon.

And by answering Mistress Ball Breaker, he admitted the one thing he and Zevon had hidden for months. Christophe blinked and sent a silent pleading prayer to Zevon. “Z, I'm sorry—"

"Shut up,” she demanded. “I don't tolerate lies here. I'm your Mistress.” She walked over to Zevon and grabbed his hair. She forced Zevon to face Christophe. “He was your dominant. Now he's my slave."

Without breaking Zevon's gaze, Christophe spoke. “He will always be my dominant, no matter what you do to him."

"He won't want to live, Christophe,” she said, her tone hard and unyielding. She dropped his head as if it disgusted her. “I've seen too many of them break. He will choose the selfish way out."

Zevon thrashed and yanked on the restraints. “You don't know shit ab—"

She slapped Zevon, and his head snapped back. “I know."

Christophe struggled to sit up. “I won't let him."

She stared. Silence filled the room. Abruptly she turned to a wall and pressed a button. Her two guards came in. “Harness them and put them back on the wall,” she ordered.

While the two women yanked him back into the wall restraints and caged his cock, Mistress Andia unlocked the cuffs that held Zevon.

He sat up and straightened his shoulders, defiant and calm. “You're wrong.” Struggling, he rose to his feet and walked to his place on the wall without a fight.

The guards exchanged a shocked glance and restrained him. Mistress Andia donned her discarded leather outfit and then waved them away. She stepped closer to him. “I'm never wrong, slave,” she spat. “You let a submissive under your protection share your guilt and your punishment. For that alone you should be broken."

He lifted his head, and the despair, the pain in his gaze made Christophe's heart ache. “I told them he was innocent. I was willing to take the blame, though I'd done nothing.” Zevon's shoulders slumped in defeat, and he turned his face away. “I couldn't protect him. In that, you're right, and I deserve whatever you dish out."

"I told you. I don't tolerate lies,” she said in a dangerously soft voice.

Wearily, he looked at her and nodded. “I know."

For a split second, Mistress Andia's lips pressed together. Then she whirled around and left the room. The room was plunged into darkness, and Christophe swallowed his fear, his tears, and his frustration.

"Z—"

"She was right, Christophe. I failed.” Zevon's voice was quiet. How could Christophe disagree? He knew it was wrong, but no argument was going to convince Zevon.

His only hope was Mistress Andia. She had a reputation for digging for—and finding out—the truth. He could only hope she would try and find out the truth and help him save the man he loved.

It infuriated her. How could the council send her an innocent man? Perhaps they both were innocent. Her nails bit into her palms as she clenched her fists.

The constant surveillance had never bothered her before, but it did now as she strode through the familiar hallways. In the past, the council had been scrupulous in their punishments and their instructions to her. Even when the faces changed, the stringent rules the members of the council put on themselves kept their decisions consistent and fair.

Now, with this new group, seemingly answerable only to Pavlik, things had changed dramatically. The trust she'd had for the members of the council was shaken to the core. What the hell did she do with that?

Mya waited for her outside her quarters, her lips pursed, and her eyes narrowed. “I don't like it."

Her guard had never complained, never been this direct. “What?” Andia asked, though she completely understood.

The older woman shot a glance at the tapestry across from Andia's door. The hint was clear. Andia opened the door to her quarters and waved Mya through. There were no vid streamers in Andia's room.

When she shut the door, Mya didn't relax. “You know we gossip, right? I don't have to explain how the Mistresses’ Guards have their own grapevine, do I?"

A smile lifted Andia's lips. “No. I know it's an exclusive club."

Mya nodded. “It works."

"Agreed. What do you need to tell me, my friend?"

For the first time in Andia's life, she saw hesitation on Mya's face. The woman had always been so definite, so sure of everything. “One of the other guards overheard something at the Svarine conclave.” She licked her lips, a rare sign of nerves. “Mistress Iona and Mistress Felicia have been asked to extend their vacations. Permanently."

Andia blinked. “What?"

"They're not coming back,” Mya said bluntly. “But there's more."

Still trying to process what Mya was telling her, Andia sat down in her desk chair abruptly. “More?"

"Two of the guards at Svarine were interrogated about my strengths. And my weaknesses.” Mya's blue eyes gleamed with anger. “The council called them in and demanded information."

Andia's head spun. Iona and Felicia gone. Questions about her guards. An attack? She shook her head. “You think we're going to be compromised."

Mya snorted. “Compromised? I think we're going to be exterminated."

"But why?” Andia burst out. “I haven't questioned them, and I'm doing their bidding, breaking two men I'm pretty sure didn't do shit."

There. She'd said it. And Mya didn't seem surprised at all. The older woman clenched her jaw. “Someone doesn't want those men broken, Mistress. They want them dead."

Mya was right. Everything made sense. “What about Dina?” But Andia knew the answer to that too. Either Dina was part of the conspiracy or she'd been killed.

"No one has asked about her strengths and weaknesses.” Mya's expression was sour, her gaze bitter.

Andia's heart twisted. It was like hearing a family member had betrayed them. “How can we be sure what side she's on?"

Mya's meaty shoulder tipped up. “We can't."

Slowly, Andia swiveled in her chair to face her computer. “We must try."

She felt like a traitor, a sneak, but she accessed Dina's communications and found her answer. Mya, a silent sentry behind her, saw the same results, and the silence in the room was deafening.

"I can't believe it,” Mya whispered.

Andia knew exactly how the woman felt. Damn it. Dina had clearly communicated with several members of the council, including that bastard Pavlik. There could be an innocent reason for contact with the council, but several transmissions with the CEO of Vezera seemed conclusive.

Digging deeper, Andia managed to retrieve some of the e-mails. Codes, access points, personal information about Andia and Mya filled Dina's messages to Pavlik. There was no doubt the guard had betrayed her. It made her gut clench.

"Mya, I've been a damn good Mistress,” she said, her focus still on the screen.

"Yes. The best in my opinion."

"I'm going to go against everything I've ever believed in.” Andia finally turned to meet Mya's troubled gaze. “And I need you to help me."

What was a life worth? Could money cover it? Would possessions? Andia contemplated the small bag she'd packed. In it was a handheld, a few clothes, and some special items she didn't want to leave behind. Her flogger, her cock harness, her strap-on were such integral parts of her, she couldn't shove them in a drawer and forget them.

If all went well, Mya would meet her at the bridge. If not, well, Dina would pay with her life.

The whole thing was unreal. But it made sense. The Christmas holidays were a perfect time to eliminate a conclave. With vid streamers focused on the celebrations around the planet and encouraging consumerism, it would be easy to cover up the murder at a conclave. Why would anyone care about a dead Mistress and her prisoners? They wouldn't.

Pavlik's problem solved.

Did Dina know about Andia's private shuttle? Possibly. It was a risk she had to take. Mya had been with Andia longer and been trusted with secrets. But Dina clearly had different loyalties.

Andia opened the window in her room and shoved the bag past the ledge. Snow dropped from the wall, and the sound seemed loud as it hit the ground below. She pushed the bag and held her breath while it fell.

When the bag hit the ground, the sound was muffled by the wind. Every angle of the conclave was watched, and Andia couldn't hope to hide her final departure. By that time, though, it wouldn't matter.

Dressed in her usual scene attire, she draped a fur coat around her shoulders, ostensibly to complete her ensemble. In reality, she was ready to leave Muan to save her skin. And she wasn't going alone.

She left her room and strode along the corridor sedately. To the vid streams, she would seem unconcerned, like any other day. When she reached the prisoners’ room, she entered it as if she planned to begin another scene.

The darkness hid her intentions as she slipped across the room and found the controls. She didn't press the buttons or pull the levers. She lifted the laser gun hidden in her black fur coat and set the control panel ablaze.

With the controls gone, the lights were permanently off, and the vid streaming would be gone. She rushed to the two men who had both fallen to the floor when their restraints released.

Quickly she flicked the cock harness off Zevon first. Then she carefully removed Christophe's. In the dark, their faces were hidden, but she knew this room, knew her equipment. It took very little to free them.

She straightened from Christophe and gripped his arm. “If you don't come with me, you're going to be killed."

"Wait. Z?” Christophe resisted her pull.

"Someone should stay behind and make sure the guards—"

"I've taken care of that,” Andia interrupted. Her heart raced and urgency filled her. Why she sensed the danger close, she didn't know. But she wanted—no,
needed
—to get out of the conclave. “Move, Zevon. Don't argue with me,” she said, using her hard, Mistress tone.

When Zevon and Christophe were by the door, she held both their arms. “Once we enter the hallway, the vid streamers will know something's up. When we leave, we go right and right again to a hallway that ends in a window. We'll have to jump. Understand?"

"Yes, Mistress,” Christophe answered softly.

"Zevon?"

"I understand.” His voice was harsh and low.

She slammed the manual lever for the door up and slipped out with the two men behind her. They reached the second right turn and were almost to the window when Andia heard the whine of a laser gun behind them. “Down,” she shouted.

The three of them fell to the floor, and the shot pierced the window, shattering the plaz. Good, she thought. Saves the charges on my pistol. “Go!” She pushed them toward the window and swung to face their adversary. She had no time to draw her own pistol before Dina had her dead to rights.

Dina held the pistol aimed at Andia's heart. “Truth. Always truth with you,” she snarled, her pretty face scrunched with hate. “Who cares about truth? Killing you would be doing the world a favor."

Her finger started to squeeze, but a figure came out of nowhere. Mya. Burned, bloody, her right foot completely gone, she tackled Dina. They hit the floor hard, Dina screaming viciously.

For a split second, Mya's blue eyes met Andia's. And then Mya struggled for the gun, leaving Andia with no clear shot to help her defender. Mya wanted her to run. Andia raced for the window and turned back in time to see the laser shot burn Mya's face to ashes.

The shock ripped through Andia's mind. Dead. Mya was dead. Dina's triumphant expression was salt in a fresh wound. Any thought of running was gone for Andia. Not while Mya's killer still breathed. Zevon and Christophe were gone, probably waiting for her beneath the shattered window, but Andia wasn't going just yet. Dina faced her, Mya's blood bright red on her hands.