Three Days of Dominance (6 page)

He pressed both his hands to his face, drawing them down, hard, across his skin. He’d left this to the very last moment. Three days. Decide, he told himself, decide—either give up and accept the inevitability of his death, or try.

He whispered the Word, opened his palm and stared at the toah egg he’d created. Shimmering blue, half as long as his thumb, yet the power it could contain was immense, and this was the only way he could harness the energy to reopen the portal. He passed his hand over the egg, and the blueness shimmered with silver specks. A little glamour would help her to accept this.
Just this once
. He hated the deception, but this meant she’d forget it was even there for a while, made it likely she’d rationalize a reason to keep the toah, or at least…to keep it long enough to give him a chance to explain his dilemma.

He went to his knees and reached for her.

* * *

A rooster crowing at the dawn sun in some distant yard drew her from the depths of sleep.

“You are so beautiful.” Heketoro—it was his quiet voice. It hadn’t been a dream this time, unless she still slept?

She felt the empty coldness behind her and the rough surface of the rug and rolled onto her back. They’d slept in the hallway all night. As she stretched and yawned, Heketoro’s hands gently coaxed apart her thighs. His tongue—as hot and supple as she remembered from the night before—licked at her cleft and up to her clit, then stayed there while his tongue and lips did everything so right.

“Ohh.” Blindly, only half-awake and happy to just
feel
the burgeoning sensations, she nudged her pelvis toward his mouth. “That's what I call a good way to wake me up.”

His hands rested flat across the top of her inner thighs, holding her open—she couldn’t have closed her legs if she’d tried to—with his thumbs pointing toward her entrance. Already moisture leaked from her. She wriggled, aiming to move those thumbs inward. “In there.” She panted—short, barely audible breaths.

“Don’t move. Don’t speak.” His words low in pitch, like a tiger warning rivals away from a mate.

She stilled. With her thighs demanding that she thrust, and him commanding immobility, she quivered, the ache intensifying as his tongue did slippery circles around her clit. His thumbs reached her labia, pulled her lips apart, crept a small way in, and stopped. She moaned. The very tip of his tongue teased the hood of her clit with glancing momentary dabs. Blood pulsed there. Nothing mattered but that he should put his mouth down on her, hard. She thrust a little. He stopped.

She raised her head, eyes still scrunched tight, then opened them a tad, willing him to continue. The pulsing agony in her lower parts screamed at her. Another moment and she’d be
there.

“Done?” he asked.

She groaned, flopped her head back down to the floor so suddenly the timber thumped. Not daring to speak, she made a guttural sound and prayed he knew it meant yes.

His tongue started that infuriating dabbing and circling. Torture, pure and simple. She’d have grabbed his head and pressed his hot mouth to her, only with heavy neck muscles like his, she dreaded failure. The throbbing and teasing went on. Her hands clenched into fists, her fingernails digging into palms.

“Now,” he murmured, breath heating her clit. His thumbs plunged smooth as oiled pistons into her wet entrance and up as far as they’d go. His tongue lapped across her clit. His entire mouth sucked on the swollen nub. She screamed and, lost to instinct, arched up into his mouth, the release thundering through her. He stayed, sucking, his thumbs pumping though the wetness inside her, making her arch even higher, gasping at the aftershocks.

When she finally relaxed, her bottom sinking to the floor, she heard him move.

“Keep this inside you,” he whispered, and he slid something up inside her as far as it would go. She groaned as pleasure stirred again.

He got to his feet.
What was he up to
? It was too bright to contemplate opening her eyes. Besides, her senses were more alive with her eyes closed. She could feel that thing, smooth and snug, as if it pulsated with a life of its own. The rest of her, every muscle and nerve was limp and satiated. She couldn’t have moved if someone had zapped her with a cattle prod.

“The bathroom’s down there,” she told him, curling up on her side again. She was mumbling, she knew, but you couldn’t get lost in this little house.

Somehow, she drifted off to sleep again, though gradually the silence of the house penetrated the haze in her mind. Killer was snoring. She opened her eyes, blinking away blurriness, and saw the dog lying a few feet away. But that was it—no other sounds except for the distant traffic and the ticking of the kitchen clock.

He was gone. If it weren’t for the exquisite aches of her body, she might have thought last night imagined, like those hundred other nights. Had she really slept with him? The stickiness between her legs, said yes. Yet still she found it hard to believe.

She climbed to her feet and wobbled down the hallway, checking each room before she went into her bedroom, found a pair of denim shorts and a white, strapless, bodice top, pulled them on—buttoning and zipping automatically.

Shower, she told herself blearily. Supposed to shower first. Aw, heck—the washing machine could deal with it. She’d shower in a minute.

He was gone, and it was near midday already.

She sat on the bed, awake properly now, put elbows to knees, clasped her hands together. Remembering.
Wow
. Details swam back to her, everything they’d done…and she hadn’t had
that
much scotch.

“Oh, boy.” No one to blame but herself. That had been halfway to BDSM; next thing she’d be dressing up in latex and getting whipped. And how would that go down at work if they found out? No. Wasn’t going to happen. “Jesus. Okay, girl. Enough is enough. It was nice while it lasted—”
Nice
? Her mind went blank. The orgasms had been more than nice.

“Damn.” She sucked in through her teeth. What a mess. Had to get herself straightened out. She’d tried it and liked it way too much, like some sort of instant addiction.

The man wouldn’t have disappeared off the face of the earth. He’d be back, but she could deal with that. He’d listened to her, or at least he did until she’d lain down and let him walk all over her. She could handle him.

A distant scratching reminded her of Killer and his needs. She went to the back door and opened it. Killer bowled out, only instead of heading for the lawn, he pranced over to the man sitting with his back to her at the top of the steps. The dog’s tongue went into overdrive, slurping at Heketoro’s arm.

Chapter Four

Oh my God, he was here
. A tremor ran through her. Finding Aragorn of Middle Earth seemed as likely—though he’d never had muscles like those.

The black fabric of Heketoro’s shirt stretched tight across his shoulders. Memories stirred—her body under his, her mouth around him. The hairs rose on her arms. No dream, this, he was real, in front of her, and what in hell should she, could she, say to him? The things he’d done to her, and she had done to him. Blood flushed her cheeks. Whatever had come over her, it hadn’t been normal, not for her.

She didn’t make love in a car, let alone in a hallway. And letting someone hold her down was just—her vaginal muscles clenched… Oh, hell, she remembered last night too well.

Keeping an eye on him, she felt for the cane sofa, edged over to it, and sat, drawing her legs up, crossing them into a lotus. She tucked her ankles in.
Calm, cool breathing, girl. Remember your yoga—stomach, chest, shoulders. In…out.

“I have to talk to you, Danii.”

Her eyes widened.

He rose, standing there like a colossus.

“Stay there!” She had to keep him at a distance. Her face heated, and her heartbeat seemed to
dance
. Something in her…responded to him when he was close. He fascinated her and scared her, all at once. How could he scare her? She’d stood up to the worst scum brandishing weapons and fists at her. But of course this, he…was a different sort of scary, one she couldn’t define.

“Danii…” He held his hands out to either side, palms flat. “I won’t harm you.”

“Stay there. Not a step farther!” She put a hand over her mouth for a few seconds, took it away. “I know you haven’t
harmed
me. Look. Whatever we did last night, that’s it. I’m not that sort of person.” Her cheeks burned. She’d
knelt
before him, obeyed his orders like some sort of slave. Moaned as he drove himself up inside her. Her nipples hardened.
No
. She willed away that image, held herself…still.

“Are you sure?”

Silence hung between them.

Am I sure? What a damned impertinent question
. She studied him.
God, I can smell him from here. Rich, earthy, fuckable
. This was seriously bad. She absolutely did not want to have sex with him again, and yet she did, oh how very much she wanted to. Betrayed by her body.

Maybe there was another way. Sex didn’t have to be as they’d done it last night.

He waited unperturbed, face unreadable, and she noted how the air seemed to brighten around him in some odd way. The garden looked more alive. Even her rickety pergola at the back of the garden looked vibrant with the plant twining through it. Fresh white blossoms punctuated the looping stems like distant stars.

She had the disturbing sensation, if she cut him, Heketoro wouldn’t bleed blood.

“Have you finished looking?” His voice rumbled deep, and her very bones seemed to quiver.

And she was suddenly quite sure that with Heketoro, sex would always be a nonnegotiable item. It would be his way, every time. That made her so hot she blushed again. She remembered waking earlier.
His mouth on my clit. His fingers inside me
. She placed her hand to her stomach, frowning. How could she have forgotten something like that?

He smiled, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. “I only want to talk, Danii.”

“You… When I’m near you, something…happens.” She shook her head. “You should go,” she said, quietly, and as firmly as she could manage.

“What happens?” He tilted his head. An inviting darkness swam in his eyes. Her lips softened.

“Uh.” God, she shouldn’t be saying this. “You affect me strangely.”

At that he laughed, actually laughed. She pinched her lips together.

“And you find that wrong?” His gaze sharpened. “That strangeness, I’d call desire. You shouldn’t resist.”

She managed to speak around the lump in her throat. “
You
should go.”

The tiniest of creases appeared between his eyes. She could almost see the click as he reached some decision. He turned, strode as far as the raggedy, overgrown hedges of mock orange around the low stone seat.

“Wait!” An intense need to know something of this man had seized her. If he left and she had nothing of him and never met him again, she’d regret this a million times over.
Face it, I don’t know what I want to do.

“I’m not going anywhere. We’re going to talk, but I’m not going inside your house again, not today.” Then he raised his voice. “So, unless you’d rather we discuss last night very loudly, you’ll come here.” He folded his arms.

“Shh!” She shot a look toward the neighbors’ fences to left and right. Neither had children, luckily. Only the buzz of insects and distant clattering of dishes came to her ears.

He didn’t want to go inside the house; well, that suited her too. She scowled, hopped off the lounge, and went down the steps, then far enough across the yard until they could speak in quiet voices. At two yards’ distance from him, she folded her arms, glared. “I don’t like threats.”

“Danii.” For a moment exasperation crept into his voice; then he snapped, “Come here!”

The command had her walking to him before her brain kicked in. Shocked at her own response, she melted inside as he regarded her. She wasn’t short, but up close, the difference was enough that she had to tilt her head to look at him.

“Better,” he murmured.

The warm, rumbling voice, the closeness, made her dizzy, and it took all her concentration not to drop to her knees and wrap her arms around his legs.
Absurd
. This man affected her like the most potent drug.

She inhaled sharply as he raised his hand and stroked her forehead. Gently, he drew an undulating line on her skin, as if tracing something. Electricity zapped through her nerves. Goose bumps rose, and a shiver flurried down her spine.

“Ah. This explains much,” he said, eyes narrowing.

What was he talking about? She quivered, wanting him fiercely, wanting that hand elsewhere on her body.
No. No. This was so wrong. I need equality in any lover, not someone who can make me beg with the snap of his fingers
. She pulled away.

“Why do you resist your feelings?”

Those eyes—she could drown in that sea of green, lost forever. She dropped her gaze, shook her head. “You’re too overpowering. I don’t want someone who makes me fall apart every time I see him.”

“No?” Light as a drop of rain, he feathered fingertips across her lips, tipped her head up, and smiled. “Are you sure? Do you enjoy it when I make love to you? Or now, when I touch you?”

Her body craved him. She couldn’t stop herself leaning into the touch of those fingers, her breasts rising and falling like the swell of waves before a storm. “I… Yes, damn it!”

He chuckled softly. “Come here.” He beckoned, and she went into his embrace, sighing. He turned her until her bottom and back curved against him. His arms went round her, his lips by her ear, gifting her skin with small kisses. Her knees weakened.

“And do you want to be here? Because, I swear, this is something I wouldn’t exchange for anything. I love the feel of your gorgeous body against mine. Your softness, your curves”—he nipped her ear—“your scent.”

She shut her eyes, absorbed in the sensation of his hard body surrounding her.
Yes, I want this, to be here with him.