Dungeon Royale (Masters and Mercenaries) (24 page)

He turned on his side, his eyes so serious she wondered if he wouldn’t simply toss her out now. “You don’t. You can quit and go somewhere else. Tag’s crew can have new identification for you and you can be out of this entirely.”

Such an idiot. She didn’t bother to pull the sheet up. The instinct was there, to cover herself, to hide from his view, but she’d started to think she did that a lot. If she always hid, how could anyone ever really know her? “I’m not giving up my whole life, Damon.”

“It would only be for a while.”

She knew what that meant. “Until you kill Baz or he kills you.”

“Yes.” His eyes weren’t on her face now. He was watching her breasts, and it wasn’t with distaste.

She felt her nipples peak and not from the chill. “And if he kills you? You don’t think he’ll still come after me?”

“I think it would be less likely.” He cursed softly under his breath and turned on his back again, his forearm covering his eyes. “I don’t know. I don’t intend to allow him to kill me. It would be easier to do this alone.”

“I don’t see how.”

His hand fisted in obvious frustration with the entire conversation. “Because I’ll spend all my time trying to keep you alive. Can’t you see that?”

“No. I’m trained, Damon. I’m sorry I’m not your perfect partner, but I’m the only one you have and you need me. This is about more than me. We could spend the next few days arguing and fighting and wasting time.”

His eyes came open again and there was something nasty and predatory in them. “Or we could do what? We could fuck? You want to fuck the arsehole who humiliated you yesterday? I thought you had more spine than that.”

She let the words roll off her. She reached out and soothed back his hair. “Not particularly. I’m hoping I can find the Damon who made love to me before.”

“He doesn’t exist. I told you what I was doing.” But even as he said the words, he was still under her hands, allowing her to comfort him.

“I know. I understand. You don’t love me. You don’t really want me.”

His lips turned down in a fierce frown. “Fuck. Penelope, I do want you. Damn it. I enjoyed fucking you, but that’s as far as it goes. Do you understand that I’m likely to get you killed? Why do you want to screw the man who’s going to cost you everything?”

She couldn’t help but roll her eyes. He really did love a good drama. “We need to work on your pessimism.”

“We need to work on your realism. Do you think he won’t kill you? Do you think he won’t do that to try to hurt me?”

“Would it hurt you?”

His hand moved so quickly she was shocked when his fingers clamped around her wrist like a manacle. “Is that what you’re looking for? You’re looking to see if there’s anything under here? You want me to love you, Penelope? You think if I love you then anything that happens to you would be worth it because some man loved you.”

It was really hard not to slap him silly, but she had to remember why he was doing it. He’d never been loved before. His parents had died when he was so young, and he’d been raised in boarding schools. He’d lost his unit. He didn’t trust anything or anyone. Patience. She couldn’t tell him that some man loving her wasn’t worth her life, but loving him just might be. He wouldn’t understand. Loving him had made her stronger. “I was just wondering if my partner would give a rat’s arse if I died in the field. I was trying to figure out what my position is. Do you want me to leave because you don’t trust me to help you or because you’ll feel guilty if I die? You were very plain to me. You don’t love me. You will never love me. My ears work, Damon. I’m very good at understanding what words mean. So no, I’m not looking for you to love me.”

If he called her on it, what would she say? Her mind was racing, trying to keep up with the drama she found herself in. He was being stubborn and obnoxious.

And quite fast. He rolled on top of her, pinning her down, making a cage of his body.

“Then what do you want?” He growled the question, pressing down on her, forcing her to take his full weight.

God, she wanted that. She could feel the length of his cock pressed to her pussy, only the thin material of his boxers between them. This was what she really wanted. He wouldn’t listen to words, but somewhere in the heat of sex, he might find the connection she was offering him. “I want to do my job and serve my country, Damon.”

“You’re going to fuck me for Queen and country, then?”

She tilted her hips up, forcing his cock right against her clit. “No. I’m going to fuck you because it feels so damn good. You’re an excellent tutor. You taught me to crave it. I want to make a deal with you.”

His chest rubbed against hers. “I’m listening.”

“Teach me. You have to anyway or we’ll blow our cover. I like this lifestyle. I think I fit into it. I think I could be happy here. Consider me a submissive you’re training. From what I understand, you didn’t have to love them. You just had to want them.”

“I can want a lot of women. I like a variety.”

She didn’t like the faintly cruel way he said it. Her insecurities rose up. “So you like fat women, too? Is that what you’re implying, Damon?”

He was off her and turning her over in a heartbeat. She felt cool air against her backside and then the sharp sound of flesh smacking flesh. She screamed into the pillow because he meant business with that slap. Two and three came in rapid succession. She would likely have moved to get away from him, but his big hand was on her back, holding her down.

“If there is one thing I will teach you, it’s that you will not denigrate yourself in my presence. You know your safe word, but you should think before using it.” Four and five and six.

It was a breakthrough. He was touching her, taking her in hand the way a Dom would with his wayward sub. But why did his breakthrough have to blister her poor bottom? “You said it yourself just yesterday.”

Seven and eight. He spread out the smacks, lighting up every inch of her bum. “I never said that.”

“You said you weren’t attracted to me.”

“I bloody well lied and you know it. I like you. I even admire you. I don’t want you to mistake that for love. I don’t want you to sacrifice yourself when what I can give you isn’t bloody well worth it.” Nine and ten and then she lost track. She’d pushed his buttons and he was showing his true colors, and if he needed to spank her to do it, then she would take it.

Besides, it wasn’t so bad. The first couple hurt—they all hurt really—but somewhere along the way she felt herself getting wet and excited even as she gritted her teeth against the flare of pain.

“You won’t protect yourself so I have to. Do you know what he’ll do to you? You’re putting yourself in danger, and I won’t have it.”

He finally stopped, the smacks ceasing suddenly. He put his hand on her arse cheeks, softly this time, as though soothing away the hurt. A long moment passed where she cried softly into the pillow, allowing the experience to wash over her.

“Penelope? Are you all right?”

She was better than all right. The tears felt freeing somehow. She bottled so much up, but the two times Damon had spanked her had been a revelation. “Yes. I need this. I just realized how much I need this.”

He’d been honest with her—as honest as he knew how to be.

“I can’t convince you to leave me?” The question came out with very little hope, just a sad sigh from him.

She couldn’t give him all the reasons why. He wouldn’t accept them, but she could be honest about one piece of the truth. “No. You of all people should understand. My job is all I have, too. I know it seems dull to you, but I feel like I mean something because of it. I don’t mean anything to anybody. Even when my mum was alive, god, she didn’t recognize me at the end. She actively fought me trying to help her. If I run away from this, I have to give it up. I won’t leave this job. It’s the only thing that makes me feel alive.”

Except you. Except this.

He rolled her over, and she’d never in her life felt more vulnerable than that moment when he stared down at her, no expression on his face. He was remote, unattainable. He could ruin her with a few callous words. He could lift her up with well-placed ones. It was frightening just how much he meant to her, how much power he had over her when he was so damaged himself.

His fingers came down to brush her tears away. “You crying damn near kills me. I don’t know why. I’ve watched women cry before. I’ve made women cry before. Something about your tears wrecks me. And yet I want them. I want you to cry because you’re bloody beautiful when you do it. Because I want your tears. I want them for me. I’m a greedy fucking bastard, and I want you to cry for me.”

Because he couldn’t cry for himself. Likely hadn’t since he’d been a child. He seemed to study her for a moment before speaking again. “I won’t go easy on you. And I don’t want you to think we’ll be together when this is done. I’ve decided I don’t want a partner. Never again. If you like, you can have access to The Garden. I’ll give you a full membership and I’ll vet anyone you play with, but I won’t touch you again after this is done. I know you won’t believe me, but it’s for your own good. I’m not the man for you. I’m the man who’ll make you cry, and I don’t want that. I think you deserve better than that.”

She would take it. It was a step in the right direction. At least he admitted he cared about her. “I want this time, Damon. I want the training. I promise I won’t beg you to keep me in the end. If you walk away, I’ll somehow manage to survive without you.”

His eyes closed, but when he opened them again, he relaxed and rolled off the bed. She thought he was going to leave her, walk away and go about his business. He would leave her to Charlotte and Chelsea.

He shoved his boxers off his lean hips, kicking them aside and stroking his big cock. “Fine. If this is the way you want it, I’ll teach you. Your first lesson is how to suck my cock. Get on your knees and show me what you know.”

She scrambled off the bed, her backside aching, but it was a pleasurable thing now. Her heart started to pound in her chest, excitement driving her. “I don’t know very much.”

She sank to her knees, trying to emulate the position Charlotte had taught her the night before.

He loomed over her like a decadent dream. “You will when I’m done with you.”

She licked her lips, ready to learn everything he could teach her.

* * * *

She was going to kill him. He might not make it to the meeting with Baz. He’d just let Penelope give him a heart attack.

He’d fallen into bed after hitting the bottle far too hard. His head was aching, but it was nothing compared to the pain in his cock.

He knew he should turn her away. He should be brutal with her, force her away. Save her.

Her eyes came up, staring straight through him, and he knew he was a bastard, son of a bitch. Selfish. He put a hand in her hair, letting it sink into her curls. He was so selfish because he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t say the words that would make her hate him forever. Fuck. He didn’t even want to.

His cock strained toward her like the fucking thing had a brain and knew where it wanted to be.

“Spread your knees farther apart.” He was supposed to be training her to be his submissive. Not his bloody partner.
His.
Now that he finally realized he was stuck in this mess, several realities occurred to him, the chief one being that she belonged to him for the duration. At the end of this operation, he would give her up and make sure that she never saw fieldwork again because he wouldn’t trust anyone else with her safety, but for now, Penelope Cash belonged to him.

His to train. His to fuck. His to pleasure. The word beat through his system like the most addictive of all drugs.
His. His. His.

Her teeth sank into her plump bottom lip as she moved, spreading her knees, showing him her pussy.

His pussy. It was his for the time being. Tag had been right about that. It was his pussy, the best he’d ever had. At heart, he supposed, men were still animals fighting for the right to mate with their chosen female. No matter how nicely he dressed, he wasn’t really civilized. Penelope Cash had proven that to him once and for all. He was just an animal driven by instincts. The instinct to fuck, to protect, to possess.

“How much experience do you have?” The question came out casually, but inside he really wanted to know. He wanted to know how many men had been stupid enough to know the sweetness of that gorgeous, bratty mouth only to allow her to get away.

“None when it comes to this,” she offered, wiggling a little.

“None?”

“I told you. Peter didn’t think it was sanitary.” Her lips curved as she said the words. Before when she’d talked about her ex, there had been a layer of sadness, of embarrassment. There was nothing but a little naughtiness now. Her tears, those sweet tears, had dried and she was ready for play.

He tightened his hand in her hair, pulling her gently back so she was staring up at him. “What do you think? Did you like it when I sucked your cunt? Did you like it when I fucked you with my tongue and ate that pussy until I had my fill?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He tightened his hold until she hissed slightly. “What do you call me?”

“Master.”

He would only be her Master for a brief period of time, but she would use his proper title until he had to let go. He would get everything that was due to him while she was his. She was wiggling again. Despite the emotion of the morning, he found himself smiling. “Is there a problem, love? You seem to be a bit uncomfortable.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Tell me what’s paining you. Tell your Master what part of you aches.” He knew, but he wanted to hear it from her lips. Spanking her felt good and right, and he wouldn’t do it unless it was for her pleasure and his, or she spouted shite like she had earlier. He wouldn’t allow her to talk poorly of herself. Not while he was her Master.

She frowned, her mouth going into the sweetest pout. “My bum hurts, Master. It still burns a bit.”

He stroked his cock, wanting to draw this out. “You should remember that feeling, love, because every time I hear you speak like that about yourself, I’ll make sure to set your arse on fire. Am I understood? You want my training, you’ll play by my rules.”