SurrendersMischief (22 page)

The admission filled the hollow in her chest, making her
whole and free for the first time in a very long time. Free of rage, free of
bitterness…just free.

A small smile lifted one corner of her lips. She knew the
perfect place to start initiating the changes.

His skin heated the sheer spidersilk of his tunic. Riana
trailed the tips of her fingers down lower, lower.

Darias’ breath caught.

She felt an answering flutter of desire in the pit of her
stomach as she unbuckled the leather harness, taking a moment to trace and
admire the way it defined the muscles in his chest.

“What…” His throat worked strongly and his voice was hoarse.
He cleared his throat and started over. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” A sensual amusement spilled over
inside Riana and warmed her the way nothing had in a very long time. Even as a
slave, Darias was almost always in control of himself, of his emotions. Only
during punishment did that immense control slip.

And during sex.

He’d obviously been braced for punishment, so her actions
now caught him off guard. He wasn’t sure what to make of her. Of her actions.

Punishment or play.

She could see the question swirling in the tarnished gold of
his eyes. Good. The confused desire she saw in his eyes was exactly what she
wanted. She needed to keep him guessing if she ever hoped to succeed in her new
plan.

The leather harness dropped to the rug. Working her fingers
between the fastenings of his tunic, she began stroking the warm flesh of his
chest. He shuddered and caught her fingers, stilling them.

“You plan to punish me outside our quarters?” he sounded
strained.

“No.”

“This is some new way to torment me, isn’t it? You’re going
to make me think you aren’t angry at my actions and then punish me,” he grated.
Beneath her touch, fine shivers coursed through his strong form.

“Does it feel like punishment?” she murmured.

“No. Yes. I don’t know.” He closed his eyes and arched his
head back as she slipped her hand free of his and traced featherlight circles
down to his abdomen.

Riana slowly unfastened the toggles of his tunic, placing a
small kiss on each new bit of skin revealed. A breath shuddered out of him as
she reached the waist of his breeches.

Hard hands bit into her shoulders.

Riana couldn’t tell if he was trying to stop her progress or
urge her on. She had the strong suspicion he wasn’t sure either. She lifted her
head.

“Do you want me to stop?” Her heart beating furiously in her
chest, she waited for his answer.

One hand tangled in her hair, Darias pulled her head back
until he could look down into her eyes. His gaze searched hers. “I should. This
is wrong. I shouldn’t allow you to touch me like this, not outside our chamber.
Not if you’re not punishing me.”

“Are you going to tell me to stop?” Riana pressed harder.
She had to hear him admit he wanted her to continue. Later, she didn’t want
accusations that she’d forced him.

The gold eyes blazed with a molten desire. “No. Krel, no. I
just hope for both our sakes you aren’t toying with me, Riana,” he groaned
before drawing her mouth back to his stomach.

Triumph soared in her. Her dragon, whether he realized it or
not, had just willingly relinquished a part of his precious self-control to
her. Without coercion.

Her favorite love scene from
The Damsel and the Dragon
popped into her mind.

Oh yes. If that didn’t make him forget his own name, nothing
would.

Her tongue darted out, tasting him. Riana relished his
mutters of encouragement. The clean, masculine scent that was Darias’ alone
rose to envelop her. She stepped back and unfastened her blouse, one button at
a time. Her hands then went to her snug-fitting trousers. Kicking off her
boots, she shimmied out of the pants, leaving herself clad only in a pair of
sheer lace panties and a shirt that barely covered her hips.

Closing the small distance that separated them, she knelt
before him, aware that each movement caused her blouse to alternately conceal
and reveal her unbound breasts. She unlaced first one of his soft boots and
then the other, tossing them aside as she removed them. Her hands on the
outsides of his calves, she slowly stood, trailing her hands up his legs as she
rose. Her hands cupping his hips, she just stood there for a moment.

The evidence of his arousal was unmistakable. The spidersilk
breeches and thong shaped him so lovingly that she could even see a tracing of
the veins beneath the velvet-soft skin of his erection. Slipping her fingers
beneath the waistband of his breeches, she slid them, one centimeter at a time,
down over his hips. He stepped out of them as they fell to the floor.

Darias was left standing, magnificently male and in his
prime, clothed in that bit of an excuse for an undergarment.

Riana licked her lips, unable to take her eyes off his
maleness. She was ruefully aware of the tremor in her hands as she reached for
the scrap of gold cloth.

He was so aroused that the material covering the tip of his
cock was practically transparent from the moisture leaking from the small slit.

His cock tumbled into her waiting hands as she eased the
thong down his hips. She closed her hands about him gently. Air hissed from his
lungs as she reverently traced one finger along the underside of his cock, from
the base to the head. A drop of milky fluid pearled on the tip. His hands
became fists at his sides when she lowered her head to lick it off.

Not quite sure whether it was her idea or his, they fell to
the floor. She pushed him flat. Hands entwined with his, she straddled Darias,
a knee on each side of his hips.

“Let me show you the way we make love where I come from.”

“Have you fucked many other men?”

At the dark note of jealousy in his voice, she smiled. “None
like you.” She lowered her head and covered his mouth with hers before he could
inquire further. Any other man who had gone before in her life no longer
mattered. The only man who mattered now was Darias. With a jolt of surprise,
she realized Darias was the only man she could ever envision mattering.
Somehow, someway, despite his treatment of her and her fury at him, feelings
for him had crept up on her. She refused to put a more precise name than that
to the emotions.

Her tongue slid along the seam of his lips, asking permission
to enter.

Cautiously, he opened his mouth. His tongue tried to tangle
with hers.

She evaded it, instead stroking the roof of his mouth with
short, heated licks.

His hands tightened around hers, his big hands swallowing
hers.

Encouraged, she explored the dark recesses thoroughly until
they were both panting, unable to get enough oxygen into their lungs. She broke
the kiss to suck on the lobe of his ear. Fine chill bumps chased down the
exposed flesh of his chest. She felt his muscles gather, preparing to roll over
and take control.

“No, don’t,” she said, stopping him with a gentle touch.
“Let me. Let me show you what it’s supposed to be like. Pleasure.” She placed a
light kiss under his jaw, a shiver of her own working its way down her spine at
the feel of the beard-roughened skin beneath her lips. “Mind-blowing.” She
placed another in the hollow of his throat. “Breath-stealing.” She dipped her
tongue into his navel. “Pleasure.”

For a moment he didn’t move.

She almost sighed aloud, wondering if after the last several
weeks, Darias couldn’t bring himself to trust her enough to give himself over
into her keeping.

Then he shifted, opening his legs.

Tension she hadn’t been aware of seeped out of her body. She
couldn’t help the brilliant smile of relief she flashed in his direction.

“Leave everything to me.”

A wry smile tugged at his lips. “Have I done anything else
lately?” But there was no heat in the statement, rather a sardonic amusement
that seemed directed toward himself.

She ruffled the hair on the inside of his thigh with her
palm and all amusement vanished, replaced by desire.

His eyes darkened and he shifted his legs, urging her hand
higher.

She moved a fraction of a millimeter and was rewarded by
heated words of encouragement. She leaned over him. Her hair slipped off her
shoulders and brushed his shaft.

His sudden intake of breath slid down her spine and heated
the pit of her stomach. Riana was acutely aware of her own arousal, the wetness
and growing ache between her legs. Her hair tangled in the thick thatch at his
groin, like strands of fire against the midnight sky.

The differences in their bodies fascinated her. Where she
was smooth, he was lightly ruffled with dark hair, where she was soft, he was
hard. So hard, she marveled, taking his length in her hands, testing its
strength.

“Take me into your mouth,” he rasped, moving restlessly on
the deep burgundy carpet.

“Are you sure?” It went against his custom, she knew. She
had teased him into demanding her mouth, driving him out of his mind with need
until he didn’t care whether it was forbidden or not several times, but she
wanted more than that now. And, she found she couldn’t bear the thought he
might regret his actions later.

Sudden doubts about her tactics rose. While she’d wanted him
to lose his self-control, she didn’t want it at the cost of his pride.

He cupped the back of her head, urging her down. “I’m sure
I’ll burn up if you don’t.”

It was all she needed to hear.

She closed her mouth on the tip of his cock, running her
tongue beneath the extremely sensitive flared cap.

He arched, his hand clenching in her hair.

She cupped his balls, gently squeezing the hair-roughened
sac.

“Krel, Riana!”

She ran her other hand up and down his length,
slowly…gently. Her mouth followed, never in the same pattern, never with the
same pressure. Tiny beads of moisture appeared on the tip of his cock, and
Riana licked them off. She turned her head to nip his thigh.

He yelped and lifted her up, over his body, his mouth
seeking and finding hers.

Riana took his lower lip in her teeth and tugged.

His groan vibrated through her.

She slid down his body, conscious that she was leaving a
trail of evidence of her desire on him. She scooted back until his heat and
hardness prodded at the sensitive opening of her pussy. She stilled, savoring
the sensation.

His fingers closed on her hips in an almost painful hold,
easing her slowly onto his erection.

Breathing hard, her head pounding with the force of her
desire, she grabbed his hands and put them on her breasts, silently urging him
to explore.

It wasn’t her head pounding but the door.

Riana collapsed on Darias, uncertain whether to keelhaul
someone or laugh to keep from crying. Her forehead against his chest, she
muttered, “If it isn’t important, I will keelhaul them.”

The door handle turned. Zethra, she couldn’t remember if she
had bolted the door or not. “Wait! Don’t come in!” That was all she needed, to
have one of the women walk in on her and Darias. He’d never forgive her.

“Riana, I’m sorry to disturb you, but Myrta of the woodworking
guild needs to speak with you.”

“Give me fifteen minutes and I’ll meet you in the Great
Hall.”

“Yes, Supreme Chief.”

Riana finally recognized the voice. It was Jayna and she
sounded harried, but not upset. Riana could well understand that. Since the
destruction of the contracts on the computer and then the disappearance of the
hard copies, the select group of woman she had picked to recoup from the loss
had been running their asses off. Somehow, they were managing to stem the
damage from the rumors of favoritism while piecing together new contracts. Of
course, if she could recover the original contracts, a tremendous amount of
pressure would be off all of them.

And now one of the shrewdest women in the guild wanted to
talk to her personally. Myrta must have been born with the blood of a merchant
in her veins. If the woman hadn’t been causing her so many headaches, she would
have admired her skill and tenacity in negotiating. She silenced a sigh as
visions of spending the afternoon making love to Darias dimmed. Ah, well. The
demands of power. A wicked grin curved the corners of her mouth. There was
still that fifteen minutes. She got up, motioning Darias to stay as he was and
walked to the desk and rummaged in a drawer.

The thing about being a successful trader or Supreme Chief
was the ability to go with the flow and change plans when the original was no
longer feasible.

She had been a very good trader.

“Close your eyes.”

Subtle tension rippled through that magnificent length of
his body, but he did as commanded.

It was a good thing his eyes were closed. Somehow she didn’t
think it was dignified for the Supreme Chief to be caught drooling over a naked
body. Not even if that body sported eight-pack abs and an erection that could
bring an entire pleasure planet to its knees.

Said erection quivered then jerked when she moved closer.

Oh yeah, she had plans for that later. Long, slow, hard
plans.

“Turn over but keep your eyes closed.”

He rolled over, grimaced, lifted and adjusted himself before
lying facedown again.

Umm. The back view was just as luscious as the front.

She knelt beside him. “You’ve been a very bad boy.”

His shoulders tightened.

“You broke all three rules. Not only were we private and you
made no move to disrobe, but you spoke without permission and did not assume
the stance.” She trailed a nail down the line of his spine to the dip just
above the swell of his buttocks. “Now what should I do about your
transgressions?” Her tone was light, but with a note of sternness threading
through it. She was his Mistress and in this arena she would command his
obedience.