The Vixen Torn (7 page)

Was he trying to manipulate her? She tilted her head at him
curiously, and for a second she wondered who it was in control.

“Should I box that up for you, sir?” asked the clerk.

“No,” Zarach responded, picking up the extravagant
chain then holding it up as he smiled to Anjasa. “Allow me,
m’lady,” he said, bringing the necklace down to her as
she moved her hair out of the way. With steady hands he guided the
fat emerald down between her generous breasts, reaching his fingers
down and adjusting it perfectly without nary an inappropriate slipup.
In fact, nothing he did crossed that border to indecency, not in the
slightest. But oh, how tantalizingly close he always came.

Her breath caught as she felt the metal warm to her flesh, and she
swallowed. Touching it gingerly, her eyes fell modestly. “This
really is too much, you know.” Her voice was so genuine, so
honest for once in her life. It was too much, but only because she
feared repayment.

Feared and craved it.

“Nonsense,” he said simply, his long index finger
trailing down the chain and rubbing the glimmering emerald without so
much as a brush against the thick mounds of breast flesh at either
side. “Now come. It’s growing late, and much awaits us
back at my place.”

During the day, the barred up manor had looked dark and ominous.
As the pair approached following the sunset, she could see light
glowing betwixt the bars on each window, the place lit up from
inside. It did not, however, detract from the fearsome nature of that
iron shod fortress.

“Your new things should be awaiting you, my dear,” he
said smoothly, guiding her from the gate towards his door, a hand on
the back of her shoulder beneath that luxurious fur that kept the
growing chill at bay.

Anjasa knew that playing along like this was bringing her deeper
and deeper into danger. She didn’t know what she was getting
into, and that lack of information was likely to get her killed in
every worst case scenario she could think up. Better options weren’t
much brighter.

Yet she felt enchanted with him and almost grateful for that sense
of fear that he was bringing back into her life. It shouldn’t
have, but it left her with a warm, familiar sensation she had
difficulty turning away.

“You certainly know how to spoil a damsel in distress.”
Anjasa grinned up at him, and knew how much control she had lost.

Zarach had only a casual smile for her, moving up and opening the
door without a need to unlock it, apparently. Once inside she could
see the place much better, for an overhead chandelier was lit. The
dozens of candles on it shed light upon the expansive main hall.

“Allow me,” he said cordially, taking the fur wrap
from around her and stowing it into the closet, along with his own
things. “How about some wine, sweet woman? I’ve got a few
nice vintages here in house,” he stated affably, his ruby eyes
trailing down her form to the large emerald on her chest casually for
a moment.

Her skin flushed and she nearly accepted before she paused. Her
finger swept some hair away from her face as she lowered her eyes
demurely, “I probably shouldn’t tonight. I don’t
want to... become trouble again.”

With a soft laugh he reached back to the door and slipped on heavy
lock in place after another. “Nonsense. See?” he gestured
as the last bolt slid into place. “Safe as could be in home,
dear lady.” He smiled widely, took her arm and guided her
towards the stairs gently. “There’s a lovely spot
upstairs I think you’ll enjoy relaxing in. Wine or no.”

The cool, practiced calm. The charming facade. She knew what
treachery and pain lurked beneath it, yet it didn’t stop her
from allowing him to lead her body wherever he wished. Anjasa had
always been a slave for men, especially charming and powerful ones.

Charm was optional.

The more afraid he made her, the hotter her body flushed, and the
more she needed to see what he’d do next.

“So are you having another party this evening?”

“Not quite,” he said with an uneven smile, taking her
up the stairs. “We’ve some time to ourselves, and then an
associate or two might drop by. Nothing big,” he remarked,
guiding her down the hall and opening up a door onto a spacious room,
lined with rich, luxurious sofas, cushions and a bar. The only other
notable features were the opening onto a balcony and the fact that
one wall was lined entirely with mirrors. “Why don’t you
take a seat, my dear. I’ll make you a drink.” He guided
her towards the most lavish looking sofa, taking her hand and helping
her to it. “If you have no preference I’ll just take it
upon myself to provide something you’ll love.”

“Host’s preference,” she smiled as she looked
around, finding it strangely unnerving just how familiar this room
was. “You enjoy mirrors, I take it?”

Casually he walked over to the bar and began to take out some
bottles of very fine looking alcohol. “Oh, mirrors just
multiply beauty, after all. So a room in which you concentrate beauty
seems ideal for them, no?” He said with a playful smile to her
as he mixed some drinks.

She was still feeling haggard from the night before, but being
around him gave her new life. Even in that worn, red dress, she
looked vibrant as she glanced to her reflection. Her skin had taken
on a warmer hue, and that gem between her breasts was exquisite.

He brought one back to her in a curious looking glass, “You’ll
love this. It’s a bit sweet,” he said.

“And I won’t wake up not knowing where I am?”
she asked as she accepted it. She crossed her toned legs and shifted
to make room for him.

She’d seen him mix the drinks and pour them from the same
decanter, and he drank from his own glass before smiling and nodding
to her. “Unless you’ve a very low tolerance for alcohol,
Miss Anjasa, I dare say your memory shall be fine.”

Zarach sat down beside her in the space she provided, a hand
resting itself casually upon her ankle as he watched her with a
smile.

“Unfortunately for me, I am not a cheap drunk,” she
teased as she took a sip. It suited her just fine, and she smiled
broadly, “Thank you. You make quite the bartender. And tea
maker, by the way.”

“A man has to be prepared to entertain a lovely lady without
notice,” he responded with light humour, his strong hand
squeezing her calf. The drink was certainly strong, but not beyond
her experience to handle. “Are you peckish at all, hun? A bite
to eat perhaps?”

Her head tilted to the side and she felt her cheeks warm, “I
imagine you must be. Have you eaten at all today?” Her black
waves spilled over her bare shoulder, and her leg moved towards him
of its own volition.

“Your concern for me is touching,” he said as his
fingertips lightly trailed up the back of her calf towards the hem of
her dress. He downed the rest of his drink then laid the empty glass
aside. With a smooth motion he leaned towards her, the intimidating
man, so pale and yet strong, looming over her with his lips
moistened. Yet before anything more could come of it they heard a
knock from below and he froze. “He’s early,” the
words spilled out of his mouth as he retreated back just a bit.

“Wait right here, hun,” he said as he rose up,
adjusting his vest.

She hadn’t realized she was holding her breath until he
stood up, and it was though the momentary spell had broken. She could
still feel the lingering sensation of his fingertips on her smooth
legs, and was amazed at how primed she felt.

Powerful men were definitely her weakness, and she nodded a bit
dumbly, “Of course.”

He gave her a smile then retreated, shutting the door behind him
after he left.

So close. She felt it, he had been ready to move upon her and the
moment was ruined by someone’s errant interruption.

She wasn’t surprised by the annoyance she felt burning
beneath her skin, nor the rage. Anjasa was not a woman that looked
kindly on things being taken from her. Especially not moments with
gorgeous and troubling men.

She was also not someone used to idling around, and once more she
stole to the door, her footsteps quiet on the wood floor.

Despite the fact that the door was far below, and a hallway
separated her from it, she could hear murmured voices as if they were
far closer. It sounded like the dark soon to be Lord was but a few
feet away, though she could not make out what was said at all, except
for an, “Are you sure?” in that now familiar voice.

When he returned back to the door, it confirmed for her just how
close he was, for she didn’t have time to slink back to her
sofa before it swung open and he looked to her with raised brows,
finding her out of her position.

She gasped and laughed it off, shaking her head. “I guess I
don’t have time to top up my glass before you return, then.”

“Allow me,” he said, moving towards the bar, taking up
the decanter and topping off her glass. He stood quite close to her,
more so than before he’d been interrupted with her. “So
impatient,” he remarked, filling a second glass, presumably for
himself, though as his gaze trailed back down her face towards her
chest he seemed uninterested in anything but her as he slowly put her
between him and the bar.

That heat, the pressure of a strong body against hers made her
lashes flutter and her loins warm. Her breathing caught again as her
large chest swelled against him, and she forced herself to exhale.
“So that’s all for business?”

He extended one arm past her waist as if he were about to hold
her, though he rested it upon the edge of the bar instead. But a few
inches from her face, his hard body touching hers, he eyed her
through narrowed slits. “Curious if just pleasure remains,
hmm?” he remarked with a wry smile, his free hand moving up to
her face, fingers lightly touching upon her jawline.

“Something like that,” she whispered, her head tilting
into his touch. This was still business for her, she convinced
herself. She had to get that will, or, at least, convince this man
that he wanted to reward her heavily for being his. That was, at
once, more frightening and more exciting than the idea of having
Loren pay her off and expect her to stick around after the fact.

After lavishing his fingers in the smooth touch of her flawless,
elven face, he let them dip down, tracing along her neck towards her
chest and the heavy chain that supported her new, expensive necklace.
“Tell me, Anjasa,” he said in a deep, breathy voice,
leaning in so very close towards her.

The moment was so intimate, so close as he pressed his groin to
her, pinning her to the bar and looking like he’d kiss her any
second. “Why’d you come here?”

Her lashes descended once more as she enjoyed his closeness, his
touch. His awareness. She licked her lips and left them glossy before
she finally raised her emerald eyes back to his gaze. “To meet
you,” she answered back, truthfully.

She registered no surprise there in his steely gaze, just the same
calm, cool exterior as he trapped her between his own fearsomely
strong body and the sturdy bar. “Good,” he said without
explanation, his fingertips trailing down along her collar bones,
then tracing the outline of the necklace’s chain towards the
fat emerald. “But why did you wish to meet me, hun?” he
asked in that same deliciously masculine voice as he slipped his
digits in under the gemstone to lift it from her flesh.

She smirked for a brief moment before her teeth drew in her lower
lip and chewed on it for a second. “Because I was curious.”
Her heart pounded harder between them and she squirmed to try to
alleviate some of her arousal. The threat of him knowing, though,
proved far too powerful to still with just a brief press of her
thighs.

Though her movement did have the effect of stirring something in
him, it was his groin and not sympathy. For as she felt that familiar
swell of manhood bulge against her body, he took hold of that large
emerald, clasped it in his hand and twisted the necklace about so
that the links bit into her neck.

He moved in closer to her, their lips nearly touching. “I
have a little rule, Anjasa,” he said in a calm voice, but for a
slight hiss to his words. “I never repeat my questions. Even if
I don’t get the right answer the first time,” and she
could read the menace in his eyes, despite his calm facade.

Her cheeks flushed and she felt the blood flow through the rest of
her body with equaled heat. She knew she shouldn’t tease him or
delay, but he was making her heart race even if he didn’t
realize it. It was probably better that he didn’t.

His breath watched over her lips and she parted hers, licking them
once more. “I was curious about you. After speaking with your
cousin.”

She had felt that chain begin to tight again in that brief moment
before her last sentence. He relented then, but only barely. It was
still a tight and uncomfortable presence that made breathing
difficult, thanks to what was just previously a lavishly expensive
gift.

His own tongue licked across his lips slowly as he watched her
with an unblinking gaze. “Tell me more,” he whispered
ominously, his cock already swollen to such knee weakening
proportions against her.

“I know what you’ll be soon, after the death of an old
man. And you deserve it,” she added on, but her mind was
already growing hazy with more lustful thoughts. Her hands gripped
the bar behind her and her pinky finger brushed his. “There’s
not much to tell. I’m impulsive.”

The towering thug of a Lord pressed against her harder, the
pressure uncomfortable as she felt that necklace tighten about her
neck once more. It clenched her throat closed, and she could not
force any air through as he stared at her blankly, no sign of
disapproval but for the tight hold of the choke chain upon her neck.

She didn’t move to try to get away, but her hands tightened
on the bar, and her pussy throbbed between her legs. It wasn’t
until her face began to turn an awful colour that her hand moved into
his, her eyes widening in fear. True fear. Not the fear of being with
an unstable, cruel man. Not the fear of being punished during sex.
This was the fear of the imminent, looming death.