SurrendersMischief (17 page)

He circled the base of his cock, his hold light. He moved
his hand in a tentative stroke and nearly gasped at the shaft of pleasure that
ripped clear to his spine. He gripped tighter, his stroke firmer now.

His palm was calloused, the skin rougher and so very
different from the feel of Riana’s hand on his flesh. His head arched back as
he instinctively twisted his hand just beneath the cap of his cock.

His breath came faster. Pre-come was leaking steadily from
the slit bisecting the head of his shaft. With the blindfold over his eyes, it
was easy to forget he had an audience watching him experiment with the
forbidden.

Until she spoke.

“Use your thumb and spread the pre-come around the tip.”

For some reason, that seemed more intimate than stroking
himself to culmination.

“Riana, please.” He couldn’t finish his plea.

“Are you disobeying me?”

Darias wet his lips, tempted to do just that. Finally, he
gave a small shake of his head.

“Then do it.”

His entire body felt hot. Darias wasn’t sure if it was shame
or lust. He nearly cursed at the bolt of sensation that tightened his balls up
high against his body when he rubbed the slippery fluid around the swollen
head, his touch awkward.

“Stop.”

He froze.

“Take one step forward.”

He shuddered when he felt her small hand circle his cock,
right behind the engorged head. When she tasted him with the tip of her tongue,
he couldn’t prevent the jerk of his hips. Or the strangled moan that escaped
his lips.

Riana took her time cleaning him and capturing each drop of
pre-come as it emerged.

Darias could no more have stopped the rhythmic thrust of his
hips than he could have stopped the drought. Just as he was about to explode,
when one more delicate lick of her tongue would send him over that precipice,
she drew back.

“Enough.” To his chagrin, her voice sounded normal. “You may
not come before being punished.”

Abruptly, he realized that his arousal, this entire
seduction, was part of his punishment. Fury, hot and immediate, blazed. A
measure of control returned. His voice icy, Darias let his scorn pour over the
woman in front of him.

“Think what you will of Nexarian ways, of Nexarian
traditions, of me, at least I never misled you. You always knew the line
between sex and punishment.”

“You think that was about punishment?” She sounded amazed.
Then she burst out laughing in what seemed to be true amusement. “Ah, Darias, I
am so going to enjoy teaching you the difference between play and true
punishment.

“Over my lap,” she ordered, all traces of laughter gone.

“What?” Still trying to absorb the implication that this was
play, not punishment, he was slow to comply.

“That has earned you ten more strokes.”

His cock leaped in response.

“Riana,” he began.

“Mistress,” she corrected.

Darias tamped down the feeling that he should be fighting
her, refusing to obey, and agreed. “Mistress.” Rising excitement chased away
his fury. “Mistress,” he tasted the word on his lip, discovering that he liked
it a little too much, but continued anyway. “Mistress, I—I’m not sure what you
mean.” He hated feeling so unsure but he needed to know. “Are you saying this
is not punishment?”

She sighed. “Then let me explain. This is not Nexarian
punishment, but I am punishing you.”

Krel, the woman could make his head hurt faster than a fall
from a wild
chelan
. “For ripping my tunic?” he asked, needing
clarification. Was she going to spank him or not?

“Zethra, you could take the fun out of a three-day layover
on a pleasure planet. Look, don’t think, just feel. Let go of the reins,
Darias,” she whispered. “I command you.”

Darias took a deep breath. Tonight he was slave and she was
Mistress. He wouldn’t think beyond that. The tension flowed from his body, to
be replaced by another, different kind of tension. He bowed his head.

“Yes, Mistress.”

She took him by the hand and guided him down over her lap
until he was stretched out, full length, on the bed. His erection pressed into
the leather of her pants. The feel of the leather against his skin, after weeks
of wearing silk, was somehow exotic.

As was the fact he was naked while she was fully clothed.

“Put your palms down on the bed, next to your head.”

The muscles in his back tensed.

He almost shot off the bed when she ran her hand up the
inside of his thigh and cupped his balls. She tapped the inside of his thighs.

“Spread your legs a little. Yes, like that.”

The cheeks of his ass clenched in anticipation. Oddly
enough, Darias found that being unable to see heightened sensation as well as
jangling every nerve in his body.

She kept her hand between his legs, petting him and soothing
him. Darias relaxed, his breathing evened out.

Smack.

He jumped, his fingers tangling in the spidersilk sheet.
Shit, he’d forgotten the woman could hit almost as hard as he could. Another
open hand smack set fire to his ass.

“You have been bad. You know what we do to bad slaves, don’t
you?”

“You spank them,” he gritted out from between clenched teeth
as a flurry of blows landed.

“That’s right. I spank them.”

His ass burned and stung. And with each blow, his erection
became harder. His nipples pebbled against the spidersilk sheets. Darias wanted
to move, to rub them against the sheets, gain some relief from the sensual
ache.

She stopped, her hand resting on his butt.

“No.” Krel, she couldn’t leave him like this, his ass on
fire, his cock even hotter.

Darias heard the rustle of the sheet then silence again.

Crack.

“Krel!” he roared when he regained his breath. “That hurt!”
Almost before he was done speaking, the hot shards of pain turned into
something else. Something that was centered in his balls and cock.

His fingers dug into the sheets.

Crack.

His ass clenched and released in the simulated thrust of
lovemaking with each blow as it landed. A part of Darias was appalled that he
had absolutely no control over the action.

The other part didn’t give a damn.

His heart was thundering in his chest, his breath was
labored, as if he’d spent hours battling, by the time the rhythmic lift and
fall of her arm quit. He lay there, trembling and close to erupting in a
mind-blowing climax, when she leaned over him and whispered, “Take me.”

Darias exploded off the bed, his arm about her waist,
sweeping her beneath him all in one move. His other hand tore at the fastenings
on her leather breeches, opening them and peeling the pants down in
desperation. He managed to get them off one leg.

In the next breath, he was buried inside Riana to the hilt.
It was like drowning in liquid fire. He pounded into her, incapable of even the
smallest amount of finesse. With each thrust, his ass burned hotter, until he
was engulfed in fire—his cock, his ass, her sheath.

Darias sank his teeth in her shoulder, hearing the material
of her blouse give way beneath his assault.

Her nails dug into his sore ass, pushing him over the edge.

* * * * *

The sound of Riana’s soft laughter roused Darias.

“What?” He lay on his side where he’d landed after the
mind-blowing orgasm, his arm over his eyes. He didn’t so much as try to crack
an eyelid. It was too much effort to move his arm. Hell, he might not ever move
again.

“This.” She tugged on something tangled in his hair.

The blindfold. He was still wearing the damn blindfold.

His ripped it off and glared at her.

“You didn’t have to use it in the first place.”

Her amusement didn’t fade. “Are you trying to tell me you
didn’t enjoy it? That not being able to see what was going to happen next
didn’t add a little more excitement?”

She had him there and knew it. Darias couldn’t truthfully
tell her that wearing the blindfold hadn’t aroused him to another level
altogether. But he damn well didn’t have to admit it. Silence, he decided, was
best in this case.

She smiled knowingly.

He shifted, and his butt protested. He winced.

“Turn over,” she ordered immediately. “I want to make sure
the paddle operated as it was supposed to.”

Resigned to the fact that she wouldn’t let up until he did
as she asked, he turned over.

“Ow.” A shock of pain followed the light press of her
fingers. His cock stirred. “What did you use on me? I know it wasn’t the
hairbrush this time.” Even the slightest touch of her hand elicited that stab
of pain. And the shot of arousal. What in the name of Tartarius had she used on
him?

He reached behind himself and felt for damage. Heat poured
off his skin. Pain then arousal.

“A stim paddle.” She leaned down and brushed her lips over
one abused cheek. Darias jumped. He would never get used to the way she touched
him wherever she felt like.

“What’s a stim paddle?”

Riana bit, just a scraping of her teeth.

His ass clenched. The pain was sharper this time. So was the
response of his cock. He breathed deeply, attempting to control the budding
erection. He wasn’t in any shape for another bout of sex. It might just kill
him.

“It’s a paddle that has micro nodes that emit electrical
stimulation to the flesh being spanked. It stimulates both the pain and
pleasure nerve endings without real damage. The effect is only supposed to last
a few hours.”

“A few hours!” He turned so that she could see his glare.

She smirked back, unrepentant.

“Yep.”

“It hurts!”

“It’s supposed to. Would you rather I use my hairbrush?”

“That is not what I mean, and you know it! You said we were
playing. Play isn’t supposed to hurt.” All of a sudden, Darias wanted to fight
and he didn’t know why.

“What’s the matter, my dragon? You liked the way it hurt a
little while ago,” she pointed out. She tapped his ass.

He thrust against the sheet before turning over, away from
her touch. Pain and lust rolled over him. He flipped back onto his stomach. The
back of his neck reddened when she laughed. He turned his head away from her.

She seemed to realize he was truly upset. Her expression
softened. “Darias, the stim paddle won’t leave any marks. No one will know what
we did.” She placed her hand on his shoulder. “Play can be anything that two
people want. Don’t be embarrassed because you enjoyed what we did.”

He was acting like an idiot. Darias shifted to his side and
propped his head up on a hand. If she could act as if it wasn’t a big deal, so
could he. It was then that he noticed the bruise forming beneath the tear in
her shirt.

Shocked, he touched it with one finger.

“I hurt you!” Keeping his touch exquisitely gentle, he moved
her shirt out of the way. There, on the top of her shoulder, was the imprint of
his teeth. At least he hadn’t broken the skin. The observation failed miserably
to console him.

“I liked it.”

His gaze shot to hers in disbelief.

“It’s true. At that moment, the feel of your teeth was
exactly what I needed.”

Dazed, he stared at the evidence of his uncontrolled
passion.

Not saying a word, Riana stripped off the rest of her
clothes. Still silent, she turned on her side to face him.

Darias took her in his arms, pressing a tender kiss over the
mark before covering it with his palm.

Her hand cupped one cheek of his ass. There was the familiar
jolt of pain, followed by an equally strong jolt of lust. Darias ignored both.

A man could get used to falling asleep like this.

Chapter Ten

The dragon lowered its head, presenting the vulnerable
spot where spine joined skull.

It waited.

Hand trembling, she lifted the dagger, steeling herself
to plunge it into the beast.

A breath shuddered out of the beast at the action.

It sounded like a mournful sigh.

Tears slipped down her cheeks. She couldn’t do it. She
couldn’t kill the beast. Not even to still the heart-rending pain in his silver
eyes.

His?

The sudden sure conviction that the dragon was more than
an unthinking beast settled into her mind and refused to go away.

He looked up. The silver eyes blazed. His muzzle gaped
open in blatant threat.

Her heart stuttered and then lodged in her throat.

Her hand tightened on the dagger.

Yes. Kill me. Kill me before I kill you.

She froze as the words formed in her brain. But the
thought wasn’t hers. It was the beast’s.

“No!” She threw the dagger across the room. It hit the
wall before falling to the floor.

Foolish woman. Now you will die.
The silver eyes glowed
with rage and pain.

Where her courage came from she could not say, but
Danella met the fury of the beast with calm command.

“You will not hurt me. You will obey me.”

Obey you?
A mask of arrogance settled over the scaly
face.
I don’t take commands, I give them.

How could she have been so blind? The silver eyes, the
air of arrogance. She’d seen them before, in the painting that hung in the
solar. The man haunted her dreams. Lord, warrior…slave.

His name was Morganth. He was Ranuld’s older brother.

How had he come to be trapped in the body of a dragon?
The mystery intrigued her, but not as much as the man himself.

A man who bowed his head to no one. A man who mastered
all he saw.

Except…

A man who would submit his formidable will to her in the
bedroom.

Hers.

Hers to tie to the bed.