Dark Warrior (15 page)

Authors: Rebecca York

BOOK: Dark Warrior

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He was staring at her as he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans. She watched him slick them down his legs, revealing most of his firm body. Only his navy briefs remained.

“Those too,” she ordered.

He hooked his thumbs under the waistband, pulling the briefs down and kicking them away.

She took her time running her gaze over him, struggling to keep her face impassive as she looked at his wonderful body with its impressive male equipment.

“Lie down on the blanket. Spread-eagle.”

He gave her a long look, then complied.

She stood over him for a moment, then returned to the knapsack, pulling out cloth cuffs, wooden tent stakes, and a hammer.

Kneeling, she slipped a thong over one wrist, attached the end to a stake, and hammered it into the ground. Then she did the same with his other wrist and his ankles until he was staked down at all four limbs like a victim at an ancient sacrificial ceremony.

THE
knock on the door had Cynthia sitting up in bed. She was with Matthew, who had stayed when the other guests had left, another precedent-breaking decision.

With no urgent work to take care of, she’d spent a lot of her time with him. No one at the spa would dare to disturb her when she was with her lover, yet the knock sounded again.

He looked questioningly at her. “Who would come here now?”

“I don’t know.” She reached for the robe she had thrown on the end of the bed. “Just a moment.”

When she climbed out of bed, Matthew also got up and went into the bathroom where no one could see him.

Cynthia padded to the door and opened it to find Eugenia standing in the hallway.

She gave the other senior woman a hard look. “You had better have a good reason for bothering me.”

“I do. Something’s happened. The guard at the gate called me. Since then, I’ve been turning the spa upside down.”

“Because . . .”

When Eugenia began to speak again, Cynthia felt her throat tighten with alarm.

SOPHIA
struggled to keep her expression neutral as she watched Jason test the bonds. An ordinary man would not be able to free himself. A man with Jason’s strength might well wrench the stakes out of the ground. Did that mean he’d truly given her his trust? There was a way to find out.

She heard him drag in a breath as she turned toward the knapsack. When she came back to him, her right hand was hidden by her side. She placed her other hand on his chest, feeling the beating of his heart.

She spoke low, ancient words, asking the spirit of the universe for guidance, for she knew that this was about more than one man and one woman striving to come to an understanding. It could mean the breaking of traditions that had lasted for centuries. Or perhaps she was throwing away her own legacy.

Her own heart was pounding as she brought out the knife, raising it high so her captive could see it. His gaze shot to the sharp blade, and she heard him catch his breath.

Before she could change her mind, she brought the weapon down in a quick strike, stopping at the last second so that the point barely penetrated the flesh of his chest. His body jerked, but he didn’t try to free his hands.

She could have killed him with that one blow. He hadn’t tried to stop her, or get away, she thought with dizzy wonder.

It took a moment before she could meet his eyes. As their gazes locked, she saw a flash of anger.

“You don’t like to be tricked,” she said. “Was it a trick to pretend that the man on the road and the vet weren’t the same person? Don’t bother answering.”

His mouth hardened. She knew he wanted to speak, but he was sticking to her rules.

He had passed one crucial test, but she couldn’t base a life-changing decision on that. What if he were only pretending to go along with her? Even a Minot might be able to hide his real self for a short period of time.

But he might still give himself away. Like all of them, he was a proud man. Perhaps he had preferred death to rejection. Could he accept punishment at the hands of an Ionian?

She put down the knife, went back to the knapsack, and took out a small whip with a braided leather handle and thin leather strands at the business end. Keeping her back to Jason, she unbuttoned her blouse. Under it she was wearing a sheer black lace bra. Hiding the whip in the folds of her blouse, she turned back to him. He licked his lips as his eyes went to her breasts. Unable to look away, he watched her take off her shoes, then her jeans, moving slowly, making each action a sensual show.

Even in his restrained position, he reacted as she’d thought he would, his penis coming to attention as he watched her undress. And she was gratified to discover that he was fully aroused by the time she stood beside the blanket, wearing only her provocative underwear.

His magnificent cock stood up straight from his body, and she wanted to kneel down and grasp it, but she only gave him a slow, simmering look, her gaze raking his body and coming back to the main attraction.

She could see his hands clenched into fists as she knelt beside him, leaning over so that her breasts were inches from his face, then shifting her position, touching his chest, sliding her fingers down his body, feeling his muscles jump as she caressed him. His breath hitched as her hand drew near to his penis, but she bypassed that proud shaft, sliding her hand onto his muscular thighs, then down to his ankles and finally his feet, taking each of his toes in turn, pulling and twisting on them as she watched his face.

His breath came in ragged gasps now. His eyes were pleading as she moved up his body again, playing the same game, touching him everywhere except the place where he must ache to feel her hand.

She wanted to caress him there, craved the intimate touch, but she was going to push him to the limit. And push herself, it seemed.

The crotch of her panties was sopping wet. Probably he could smell her arousal, but she kept her face impassive as she reached into the folds of the blouse on the ground and picked up the small whip.

His eyes went wide as he saw it.

She brought the leather cords down on his shoulder in a swift, calculated blow, not hard enough to break his skin, but hard enough to get his attention, judging the effect on him.

“You deceived me,” she said in a low voice. “You should be punished for that.”

She used the whip on his shoulders, his chest, his thighs, knowing the blows must sting. And as she did, she finally reached out to circle his cock with her fist, squeezing him, drawing a moan from his lips. She closed her eyes, enjoying the sensual contact, then lightening her touch, moving her hand up and down, hearing him gasp as she teased him.

She had planned to keep up the whipping as she caressed him, making him submit to her, even as she stoked his arousal. But something happened that she hadn’t expected.

The intimate touch brought a blast of energy to her mind, a blast that opened his thoughts to her. And at the same time, opening her thoughts to him as well.

In this place of power where she had come to test his truthfulness and his resolve, she was suddenly testing herself as well. She felt his need, his desperation, his willingness to do anything she asked if she would only give him a chance to strengthen the bond between them. And she knew he could read her own thoughts—–her hurt, her uncertainty, her fear.

She hated him seeing that. And he would know that, too.

She had ordered him not to speak, but words were no longer necessary between them. More than that, words would only skim the surface of this mind-to-mind communication.

When he made a strangled sound deep in his chest, she felt his arousal and his need for her to the depths of her soul. And more. So much more.

The choice was hers. She could flee from him now, or dare what few Ionian women had dared over the centuries.

This was the real test. Not just of him but of herself as well.

His gaze met hers, and she knew that they were both poised on a knife blade of emotions, of possibilities, and of disaster as well.

Did she dare give them what they both wanted? Or was she a coward? And was the coward’s way the right choice after all?

CHAPTER
FIFTEEN

WHEN RAFE REACHED the front door of his house, he pulled out his phone again.

This time, when he pressed the message button, he was able to get a connection.

There was one message. A man speaking low and fast. “I don’t have much time, but I’ve got some information you want. Two things have happened.”

As Rafe listened to the first part, then the second, a buzz of excitement went through him. Just to make sure he’d heard the message correctly, he played it again.

“I want the payment you promised delivered to my bank account.”

“When I get around to it,” Rafe muttered as he hurried into the house. He had the information he needed. Now he had to figure out how to act on it.

FROM
one moment to the next Sophia made the decision. Swiftly she reached to unhook her bra and pull off her sopping panties.

Jason didn’t speak, but her name rang in his thoughts, in gladness and in gratitude as she straddled him, gasping as she brought him inside her.

“Jason.”

She went very still. Unable to move. Unable to do more than stare down at him in wonder.

In this time and place, they were one being, their souls joined in a union that should have been impossible for either one of them. He was a man. A Minot. She was an Ionian. Sworn enemies, yet the two of them were no longer on opposite sides of any divide.

It was as though they belonged together, had always belonged together. And she knew in that moment of joining that he had been telling her the truth about himself.

Your mother and father.

I wasn’t lying to you, I would never lie to you. Well, except to get near to you
, he added ruefully.

Jason Tyron’s not your real name.

Jason is. I changed my last name.

He opened himself to her, giving her more.

His father was a Minot named Paul Castle. His mother was Julia, an Ionian who had run away from the order because she felt stifled by life at the spa. Against all odds, she had found a Minot who was different from the rest, who wanted only what the two of them could build together.

But she had craved more. She had wanted her sisters as well, and that had been denied her by the high priestess, who was unable to accept the marriage of an Ionian. Especially an Ionian and a Minot.

For years she had been happy with her husband and her son, but in secret, she had longed for her sisters, and finally the separation had broken her.

As Sophia took in all this, she knew she was opening herself to him just as fully. He knew about the ceremony where the high priestess had deflowered her. He sensed her doubts about herself and about her sister Tessa.

He made a rough sound.
The order confines you. You’ve lost your way.

She longed to deny it, but it was impossible to hide herself from him. Not now. Not in this place, with her body joined to his and her mind as open as it had ever been to any human being.

She had been still above him, but all at once she heard a clattering noise as the stakes that had confined his wrists slammed out of the ground. He pulled his hands from the restraints and brought them to her hips, urging her upward and then down again as he moved her above him, matching her rhythm.

She knew that he could have pulled his wrists free at any time. But he had chosen to remain in her power because that was the only way he could win her trust.

Then his hands moved upward, cradling her breasts, skimming his thumbs across the tightened crests. When she cried out in pleasure, he slid his hand around her back, stroking her spine, then pulling her upper body down to his chest as their movements became more frantic.

The intensity swept over them, driving them toward a climax that took them away from reality. At that moment she sensed something more. Something about him that he might not know himself. She couldn’t quite grasp it either, and before she could focus on that, her gathering climax made it difficult to think of anything besides the here and now.

Clinging to him, she was helpless to keep from being swept into a world of pure sensation.

This was what she had always longed for yet never knew existed.

The firestorm swept over them, leaving them both limp and breathless.

When Jason wrapped his arms around her and rolled to his side, she realized he’d also freed his ankles.

Still overwhelmed, she clung to him. “Was that real—what happened to us?”

“Yes. It’s what I wanted to show you we could have together—if we dared.”