Iron Dominance (30 page)

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Authors: Cari Silverwood

Tags: #BDSM Fantasy, #SteamPunk, #futuristic, #BDSM

BOOK: Iron Dominance
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“Either you can be extradited to a place chosen by the state. This place to be outside the influence of the PME as much as we can possibly ensure. In gratitude…”

What? Gratitude? He plans to reward me?

“For your courage in the face of enemy forces, we will award you an annual salary of forty thousand drachma in perpetuity.

“Or, you may instead surrender to Theodore Kevonis and accept his decision regarding your future.” At that, the president clasped his hands before him and waited.

Theo? How could this be? But, she had her chance, small though it might be. Afraid of what she might see, she glanced at Theo.

The president leaned forward and whispered, “Go to him.”

She blinked, raised her chin, nodded.

From the red suffusing Theo’s face, he’d not known of this alternative. Was this Dankyo’s doing? “I will accept the decision of Theodore Kevonis.” Thank God, she’d said that without quaking.

Heart thudding, she walked to Theo, every step under his furious gaze feeling like it might crumble her legs to dust, and stood before him.

She moved her mouth, trying to say something,
anything
that would make the determination leave his eyes.

“Please.”

He shook his head. “How can I accept this? No. I cannot trust you, Claire. I have people who need me as much you. People who do trust me to keep them safe.”

“I never meant to hurt anyone. I know what I did was wrong. I’ve said as much. You were there, weren’t you?” She searched his face for clues. “At the interrogation? I know you were there. I could feel you.” She clenched a hand over her heart, gritted her teeth until her jaw ached. “I can feel you. That’s how close we are. If you make me go away, I will never be whole again. Without you, I am
nothing
.”

“No. You’re stronger than you think, Claire.” Yet his eyes softened, and for the first time, something stirred between them.

She shut her eyes, shook her head. “Am I? You convinced me I wasn’t just a weapon, a thing. You’re the only person I’ve ever been this close to, and…I had thought you loved me. I don’t know what else I can say. How can I show you that you can trust me again?”

Pain coiled tight in her chest—she wanted to fix what she’d broken
so
much. But wishing wouldn’t work.

He sighed. “How? That’s just it, Claire. It’s not just that I don’t trust you. Or even that I don’t—” He swallowed. “You did not trust
me
enough to tell me what you were. I could have helped you.”

Her heart faltered. “Is that it? But…” Confused, aghast at this apparently impossible problem, she thought back and knew what she must say, then hesitated. If she was wrong, this would destroy her chance of ever putting things right.

“Would you have, Theo? Would you have helped me? Because, back then, when you knew me so little, I believe you would have sent me away.” She stopped. There it was—she’d thrown her last hope at his feet.
Please. Please, let me be right.

He seemed to loom taller. His forehead wrinkled. “I would never…”

She sank to the floor; the timber jolted hard on her knees. “No?”

The hurt in his eyes and the deep breath he took told her she’d hit the mark.

“Perhaps,” he whispered. The frown melted into a new curiosity, and then he shook himself. “It matters not at all. Not now. I can’t trust you now. I can’t.”

Hands on her thighs, she bent her head. “Why not? Why not? I’d put my life in your hands. Here I am, at your feet. Please, I do trust you. Do what you will with me.” She scrambled for something that would be solid proof.

“Do what I will? You know, Claire, that I would never hurt you. This proves nothing. I can’t know what is in your mind or what other secrets you might hold from me.”

His legs moved. He was leaving. She gasped and looked up. “Use ropes on me! Tie me up if you wish! Let Dankyo do it. I don’t care! I…I trust you.”

“You think that offering to let me hurt you is some sort of proof? And since I
will not
do anything to hurt you, this still proves nothing.”

“Please.” He slowed. “Please, Theo.” She put her head in her hands. “I’m sorry but please, tell me, what I can do to make this
right
again.”

She heard his footsteps grow louder. He returned to her. They slowed and he stopped beside her. She held her breath, hoping.

“What can you do, Claire? Nothing. There is nothing more you can do.” Gentleness suffused his words, yet there was that same fearsome resolve in every syllable. “I’ve listened to your arguments and your logic. I’ve listened, earlier, to Dankyo’s arguments also, though in some amazement. I never thought I’d hear him defend you.”

His hand touched her head, and without thinking, eyes shut, she raised her head, wanting to feel more of his presence, to feel his warmth, to put her nose to his broad palm and smell his heavy masculine scent.

“Listen, Claire.” He pressed his hand down, so she stopped and waited. At least he was near. “There is nothing you can say that will change my mind. Nothing.”

“Oh.” Claire’s heart tore in two, and a twisted ache burrowed through her middle. “Oh.”

“Yes.” He patted her head once, then exhaled slow and hard. “Trust is something that should be earned. Yet if there’s one thing I have learned over the years, logic doesn’t always work where trust is concerned. You can’t change my mind, because only I can do that.”

Hope fluttered to life.

“And I have changed my mind.”

She wrenched her head up to meet his gray eyes, didn’t dare to speak.

“I let my anger fool me. I will trust you again, my dear, because despite everything, you’ve not wavered in trying to fix what wrongs you’ve done, because Dankyo trusts you, but most of all, against all logic, because it’s what, deep down where it counts, I want to do.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, putting her hand on his as he traced the curve of her face.

Theo smiled a little grimly. “And because, strangely, I do love you, my little assassin.” He drew her to her feet and kissed her hands, then her mouth while she hugged him tightly, arms molded to his chest, her thoughts awhirl.

Ohmigod. He’s forgiven me. Yes. Yes!

After resting awhile with his chin beside her ear, breathing slow, Theo leaned away, studied her. “Did you hear me?”

“Yes.” She groped for something to say. “I-I’m sorry for lying.”
He loves me? Can I say those words
? She glanced over. Dankyo was watching.

“Do you have something else to add?” Theo raised one eyebrow.

She mouthed those words.
I love you too.

“Hmm.” His smile stretched and amusement reached his eyes. “A little louder would be nice, especially after I’ve forgiven your…errors. I believe I may have a way to make you say it properly and louder. You did volunteer to be tied up.”

She nibbled her lip. Elation was fast being tainted by a shivery kind of fear, and her knees were suddenly jelly.
Ropes. I’ve done it, though, haven’t I? I’ve won him back.

“Only there will be more than just tying up. You’ve earned the flogger. How many strokes, I’ve not yet decided.”

Wide-eyed, she blinked up at him. Yet this was the Theo she wanted. Curiously, the fear stayed away. Somehow, in all this, her worries had been bent out of shape. Her fear now linked to her victory, to the rising sense of pure joy. He was hers, and she was his again.

Ha. Maybe this wouldn’t be quite so bad
. Theo had restrained her before, and she’d loved it. She squeezed her thighs together, feeling excitement rise.

“Well.” The gravelly voice came from over her shoulder. “What an interesting outcome. And what a pity I have no time to witness the result.”

She blushed. She’d forgotten the president.

He strolled into view. “May you all enjoy yourselves immensely. Perhaps another time, my dear, we might become better acquainted?”

She stiffened, alarmed, remembering the clothes Theo had bought for the party after the President’s Ball. She’d never quite seen what went on…afterward.

“Sir. Thank you for your forbearance,” Theo said. The president nodded and walked away. He left through a side door.

“Come, Claire.” Theo took her by the shoulders. “Let me show you the facilities in the Machine Room. Both Dankyo and I are eager to demonstrate.”

Machine Room? And
… She swiveled under Theo’s hands and looked over at Dankyo. She
had
offered to let him tie her up. He was back to being impassive. Theo hooked his fingers beneath the little straps of her dress, wiggled them. “Before we leave here, though. Remove the dress and your underwear.”

She gaped at him. “Here?”

“Yes,” he said, straight-faced except for the tiniest wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. “Here. I promise, there is no one else to see, except Dankyo. Trust me?”

She swallowed. “Yes. Oh, definitely yes.”

“Then don’t look around.” He raised both eyebrows.

Without the slightest look, though with trembling hands, she crossed her arms, took hold of her dress, and skimmed it off over her head, let it fall, then took off her underwear—both bra and panties.

Naked, standing naked, in the middle of the ballroom
. Her nipples beaded; her cleft and clit swelled in arousal. But she had Theo again. She did.

Chapter Twenty-eight

Theo led her by the hand into a large room with walls painted a feral combination of black, red, and gold and a ceiling festooned with dangling chains. Padded machinery, crosses, tables, and other devices she couldn’t decipher the function of, were set up here and there on the floor and walls, like metallic creatures ready to pounce on straying humans. White rope hung, coiled, from pegs and struts. She shuddered, her mouth dried.

“Don’t worry, Claire.” Theo stood behind her, combed his hands through her hair then twisted it into a rope, and carefully tied it together at her nape. “I’ll take care of you.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” she murmured.

He kissed her neck, then turned her to face one of the devices. All black, the device was some form of sawhorse, like one used in timber work, only padded on top, with rings attached here and there. Her mind raced ahead—rings for tying ropes to.

“That?” she whispered and swallowed past the lump in her throat.

“Yes. Give me your wrist.”

Sometime while she’d been distracted—which meant as soon as she’d entered this room—he’d picked up a coil of rope.

The thumping against her ribs would be her heart. She licked her lips and raised her right wrist. The loop of rope Theo placed around it was white as an angel’s wing. Pure and so not innocent. This whole place, every movement, every instruction Theo gave her, made her feel like she’d plugged into his galvanic machine.
Thud, thud
, went her heart.

With a few deft finger movements, he wound it about her wrist, snugged it down firmly, and waited.

She stared at the rope. Hung upon a revelation, an epiphany moment. This wasn’t just possible, just bearable—it excited her. Letting Theo take charge of her had always been the utmost thrill. This too. Rope no longer sank talons into her gut. Whatever he wanted, she could do.

Oh, yes.

“Good, sweetheart. Lie down.”

She blinked at him, nodded.

He guided her until she lay on her stomach across the length of the padding with her bottom in the air, sticking out past the end. Slowly, precisely, he wound rope about her limbs and body. She wriggled at times into the padding, until he pressed his hand to her back and made her stop.

Her bent knees and her ankles and wrists were tied with enough rope to set a ship’s rigging. Her breasts were bound so firmly they felt round and filled with blood. Each heartbeat made them throb and made her so aware of them resting against either side of the padding.

She couldn’t move a single inch, and it made her so hot, she bit back a groan when the ends of the flogger grazed her pussy.

“I must admit,” Dankyo said, “you look far more interesting like this than when you’re glowering at me.”

Dankyo? She’d been unaware who was back there. Did he have the flogger?

“Why are you—” Then she noticed Theo lounging against the wall, watching, still in his coat and trousers. “Huh. Aren’t you stretching the limits of your duties a bit?”

“Not really.”

The fire-laden smack of the flogger’s tendrils on her bottom startled her. “Ah!”

She strained at the ropes fastening her arms to the sawhorse, closed her eyes as they pulled taut…and held.
Dankyo, of all people
. She bit back a swear word she might have called him.

Mortifying, yet, strangely, knowing Theo watched Dankyo smack her… She arched the tiniest bit, wriggling the inch or two her ass could move…and heat blossomed.

No
. She went still, made her breathing slow. This was awful. Dankyo would see, know she got off on this. Say something. Distraction needed here.

“You’ve played us both, haven’t you? Arranged this. You
wanted
us together.”

“Possibly.”

“Why?”

He bent down, squatting next to her head, then putting a hand up to hold her chin. “Maybe because I can see that in your own way, you’re good for him. That he does need you as much as you do him. Maybe because you’ve made me realize something about myself I’d never have known otherwise.”

Unable to look away, she looked, really looked at him. A hint of a smile curved his lips.
Oh. Frick.

He stood and removed his coat, folded it, and put it on the floor. Next, while she watched, tongue-tied, he stripped off his shirt and placed it on top of the coat. His hairless torso gleamed. He flexed his shoulders, making slabs of muscle slide like earthquaked rock. The man could lift a landship.

Claire swallowed, throat almost too dry to move. Her muscles were tiring with the effort of keeping her neck up so she could look Dankyo in the eye. But she didn’t want him to see her lower her head. That would be like giving in. And…she was lying here with her bottom out. She let out a long breath, cursing softly. Her head sagged an inch.

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