The Pleasure Slave (28 page)

Very slowly, he came drowsily awake, and she repeated her request. Before she could inhale another breath, he dragged her atop his chest. The juncture of her thighs rested against his growing erection. He cupped her bottom. “Tell me, sweet dragon, tell me exactly what you need.”

“You. Only you.”

“Then take me.” His husky voice was deepened with his own need.

Inch by inch she moved down the length of his body, stopping at the object of her fascination. She took him into her mouth. He tasted of male and warmth, and she couldn’t get enough. Over and over she moved her mouth up and down the length of his erection, over the head of
his penis, then all the way to the base, savoring the thickness, the heat. She cupped his heavy sac in her hand.

“Julia,” Tristan said hoarsely. “Julia.”

“Yes?”

“Kiss me.” He grabbed her underneath the shoulders and wrenched her up. He captured her lips then, and at the same time he thrust upward, entering her in one long, swift thrust. “I want to come inside your body, not your mouth.”

“Later, then,” she said. “I want to taste you.”

Fierce and growling, he bit the hollow of her neck, then licked away the sting.

Breathless, Julia closed her eyes. She arched her back, sending him deeper inside. Softness met hardness in one glorious burst of sensation.

This is bliss, she thought, moving up and down his rigid length with the desperate pace he set. But she wanted to prolong this moment, to make it last forever. So when she rode the downward slide, she stopped. He groaned. Gradually she raised herself up. Down. Up. So slowly.

Tristan gripped her hips, urging her on. He was sweating. “This is the sweetest torture I have ever endured. But if I do not have you, all of you, I will die. I swear it.”

“I love you,” she whispered.

He ceased moving completely and just stared up at her.

She cupped his jaw in her hands. “I want you to love me, too. I’m not saying this as a command, but as a request for the truth. Will you admit that you love me?”

He rolled her to her back, pinning her against the softness of the silk sheets. His shoulders were taut, the lines of his face drawn.

“You know I will not love you.”

“I don’t believe that. I think you do, that you just haven’t admitted it to yourself.”

“Nay. Do you not understand, Julia? If I admit such a thing, I will lose you. Do you want to lose me?”

Horror that he would think so had her screaming, “No!” And too late did she realize that she should have lied, should have told him she was tired of him—something,
anything
to make him yearn to leave. “I
need
the words, Tristan. I need them.”

Deep torment flashed in the depths of his eyes, and she glimpsed his inward struggle. “Tell me again that you love me,” he said raggedly.

“I do,” she said. “I love you so much. Never doubt that. Now tell me how you feel.”

She waited for him to offer her the same avowal, but he merely slipped his hand between their bodies and pressed against the core of her desire. She gasped, in pleasure, in exquisite pain.

“You love me, but you are willing to lose me?”

She gulped back her pain, and didn’t even try to deny what they both knew. “Yes. I am willing to lose you.”

He studied her face. “Then perhaps, my little dragon, I will have to convince you otherwise.” His voice was a husky ripple purring against her skin.

“What—what do you mean to do?” she asked.

He flexed and surged inside her at the same moment
his fingers circled her. “Oh…Tristan…” Her breath grew ragged as he moved within her again and again.

“That is right, Julia. Your body needs mine, will forever need mine. Can you feel yourself tighten around me? Can you feel how your body cries out for me?”

“Yes,” she gasped. “Yes.”

“Tell me you want me for the rest of your days. You know what your body is telling you, now listen to your heart.”

Whimpering, she clutched the silk beneath her. “Do you love me, Tristan?”

He hesitated. A pain so great it was almost physical again lit his eyes, making his lavender irises swirl with the force of a storm. “Nay. I love you not.” He plunged into her so deeply she felt his essence reverberate from head to toe. “However, I will be with you for the rest of your life. I am willing to do whatever is needed to convince you of that fact.”

He was a man of his word.

Imperia

R
OMULIS PACED
the white sands of Druinn, the four suns heating his skin. Those warm rays in no way compared with his fury. “Bitch,” he growled. “I do not need her.”

“Need who?” one of the elders asked him. Several sorcerers stood along the sea’s edge, some even hovered in the air, watching him with weary eyes. He refused to speak or acknowledge the question in any way. He continued to pace, the rage inside him growing, consuming him. He knew Zirra had been working on her own to regain her magic. She was so determined to have Tristan.

Zirra was destined to be his life-mate, and still she hungered for another. Always she hungered for Tristan. Mayhap she would for eternity. Yet
he
desired no other. Only her. Only Zirra. He wanted no other. Fury and pain and desperation vibrated together inside him, and he lashed out, growling again, “Bitch.” The crystal sands scattered with the sharpness of his movements.

“I have never claimed differently.”

The voice came from behind him. Romulis spun and
found himself glaring into Zirra’s unrepentant face. Those traitorous suns’ rays paid her nothing but tribute, caressing her cheeks, making her cerulean eyes sparkle. Even now, he craved her hands on his flesh, her screams of pleasure in his ears.

“Leave us,” he told the sorcerers still brave or foolish enough to linger. The rustle of their footsteps echoed in his ears.

“What do you here?” he demanded.

Her chin rose haughtily. “I’ve come to tell you that I am holding you to your vow. You vowed to help me acquire Tristan, and I expect you to do so—permanently. Some of my powers have already returned but I still need yours.”

His stomach twisted, the pain so sharp he nearly cried out. Just then something broke inside him. Mayhap it was his patience, mayhap it was his goodwill. Whatever it was, Zirra was meant to be his, his life-mate, and he would no longer tolerate her defiance. He would no longer tolerate her obsession for another man.

“I have watched you pant for Tristan all these many cycles,” Romulis growled, backing her into a cold, silver stone that circled the sands. “I am finished watching. I am finished waiting. You are mine.”

Her eyes widened with fear, and mayhap a bit of arousal. He hardened his heart against her. She had pushed him past the point of his endurance, and now she must assuage him. He would
not
assuage her.

“We end your obsession now,” he said. “Come with me.”

T
RISTAN SAT
at the kitchen table, silent and scowling, as he ate his breakfast. Julia had tried to make him leave her. She had tried to gain a confession of love.

Shock still coursed through him.

Had she tired of him?

He shook his head. Nay, she had not. She loved him. She had uttered the words so many times they were branded inside his mind. And she had meant them. The truth had been there in her eyes. His chest clenched as he remembered. She loved him, yet she was willing to sacrifice their lives together. For him. He knew enough about his little dragon now to know she would not want to watch him live a life of bondage and do nothing. That was why he…liked her so well. Aye, he liked her. Nothing more.

How could he tell her that what he felt for her would destroy him inside?

He would
not
risk it.

After her death—his heart twisted at the thought—he could endure the transference of his box to a new
guan ren,
knowing that he had finally shared true friendship with a woman. The memories of his time with Julia would keep him happy for the rest of his life. For the rest of his servitude.

“I want to close the shop today and just spend the day with you,” Julia said.

She deserved children.

The thought slithered into his mind and remained. She had saved two rooms for her babies, for she
dreamed of being a mother. This woman who gave so freely of herself deserved to have her dreams come true. He almost gave her his declaration just then, but stopped himself in time.

He was finding that where Julia was concerned, he was a selfish man. He needed her and would pamper her until
he
became her dream. Mayhap they could even provide a home for orphaned children.

He said none of this to her, however, knowing she would not rest until she had his declaration. “What would you like to do?” he asked.

“We can go to a movie or play miniature golf. We could even…” Her words tapered to quiet.

Just in front of her, the air began to thicken, liquefy. Silver mist swirled and tangled together, rising all the way to the ceiling. Julia blinked, unsure of what she was seeing. Heart pounding, she jumped back.

Tristan had already pushed to his feet, his daggers drawn. The mist began to spread and billowed throughout the kitchen. When it cleared, Julia gasped. Her jaw went slack. Zirra stood next to the same very large, very angry-looking man that had been with her before.

Julia focused on Zirra. Here was the woman who had cursed Tristan, who had tried to break his pride and his spirit, to make him suffer for all of eternity.

Julia didn’t think about her next actions, didn’t consider the repercussions of what she was going to do. She jolted forward, fist clenched, and punched Tristan’s tormentor with every ounce of strength she possessed. Zir
ra’s head whipped to the side and before she could recover, Julia punched her again.

“You deserve a lifetime of suffering,” Julia ground out. “And damn if I’m not ready to give it to you.”

Tristan grabbed her shoulders and jerked her behind him. His body shook with the force of his…fear? Julia gripped his waist, hating that this big, strong man could experience terror like this.

“Do not hurt her, Zirra,” he commanded. “’Tis me you want.”

“You are right. I do want you, but that bitch is going to suffer.”

When Zirra raised her arms, Tristan launched himself at her but it was too late. By the time he reached her, she had already focused her hate-filled eyes on Julia and uttered a spell.

Heaviness instantly settled over Julia’s eyelids, and lethargy coursed through her veins. “Tristan,” she said, growing weaker by the second. Her knees buckled. Thankfully, he rushed back to her side and was able to catch her.

“What did you do to her?” he croaked to Zirra.

She merely smiled smugly and rubbed her fingertips over her bloodied mouth.

“Julia,” he whispered, cupping her cheek. “What is wrong?”

No response.

“What did you do to her?” he roared.

“Romulis helped me regain my powers,” Zirra gloated. “I used them to cast a spell of sickness over her body.”

“Break it,” Tristan commanded. Fear raced through
him, more potent than any other emotion he’d ever endured, because he knew Zirra would not heed him. She was evil incarnate. If she could cast him to an eternity of hell when she professed to love him, what would she do to Julia? A woman who stood in the way of his possession?

Julia’s skin quickly lost all color, becoming so pallid he saw the blue trace of her veins. She was so silent, so lifeless. “Save her,” he choked, his eyes blurred as he addressed Romulis. “Save her now.”

“I cannot,” Romulis said, directing a furious scowl to Zirra. “The Druinn cannot break each other’s spells, and well Zirra knows it. I did not bring her here for this. I had no idea her powers had returned so greatly.”

Tristan’s fists clenched around Julia’s clothing. He needed her more than he needed to take his next breath. He needed to spend an eternity hearing her laugh, seeing her smile. She represented everything that was good and right. She did not deserve the fate Zirra was giving her, a torturous punishment that only an unstable mind could mete out. He could not let that happen. He could not let Zirra hurt Julia.

He had once refused to beg this sorceress for his own life. But he would beg for Julia’s. With pleasure.

Without another thought, he gently laid Julia atop her table and dropped to one knee. “Please, Zirra, let me have the life I have built for myself. Let me have Julia healthy and whole and in peace. Please…I am begging you. Leave us to our life.”

Scowling, Romulis strode to him and tried to jerk him to his feet. “Do not beg her,” he said.

Tristan held fast.

Zirra’s smile vanished and in its place was a grimace so fierce he had never seen its like. “What do you think you are doing?” she screeched. “You dare beg me now? And for
her?
She is nothing, I tell you. Nothing!”

“Nay, she is everything.”

“I will not let you do this. Where is your box?”

“Please, Zirra. Please,” he rushed out. “I am here on my knees for you when I swore never to beg again.”

Zirra screeched, “Where is your box?”

Romulis released Tristan and grabbed her shoulders. “Do you see what he is willing to do for this woman?” he demanded of her, shaking her with all of his might. “Do you see how much he wants her? How much he does not want you?”

Tension crackled between them.

“You know not of what you speak,” she screamed.

He rattled her again. “How can you not realize you are meant to be my life-mate?”

She paused for only a heartbeat, then tried to slap away his arms without success. “I do not realize it because it is not true.”

“Liar. I am calling in my favor. Leave Tristan and his woman alone, and give us a chance.”

Panic washed over Zirra’s features, then she paused and smiled slowly. “I am afraid I have already granted your favor, Romulis. You told me to come here and here I am.”

A muscle ticked near his left eye, until finally he ground out, “Curse you, Zirra. You destroy everyone in your life.”

“What do you care, Romulis?” she asked, haughty now with her victory. “Even without Tristan I would not come to you.”

All emotion drained from Romulis’s features. Defeated at last, he dropped his arms to his sides and stepped away from her.

Tristan tried one last time to save the life of the woman he had come to cherish. “Heal her and let me stay here with her, Zirra. Please.”

Mouth tight in her rage, Zirra strode to him. She glared down at him, her eyes barely visible behind her lashes. “Get off your knees, curse you. Stand before your master.”

He remained where he was, sweating, trembling. Zirra wasn’t going to grant his request. There was only one thing he could do. His stomach twisted painfully. How great would his suffering be because of his next action?

Immeasurable.

But he would do anything to save Julia’s life. Anything.

“Do you vow to heal Julia,” he said, “to leave her and all of her family alone if I give you the box?”

“Aye,” Zirra said eagerly.

“Swear it by the Kyi-en-Tra Crystal,” Tristan added. Such a vow could never be broken without death, and they both knew it.

She didn’t hesitate. “I swear.”

“Let me first say goodbye,” he said. Dying inside, he pushed to his feet and leaned over Julia, whispering in her ear, “Remember me fondly, sweet dragon, for I will
never forget you. Live your dream. Love another. Have your children and be happy.”

She moaned.

He placed a soft kiss on her lips and tried to memorize her features while everything inside him crumbled, withered. “It is there,” he told Zirra, motioning to the plant with a tilt of his chin.

On shaky legs, Zirra inched toward it. Once there, she dropped to her knees and slowly released the false bottom. A gasp parted her lips. Slowly she lifted the box. Her greedy hands clasped around it with reverence.

“I have fulfilled my part of the bargain, Zirra, now fulfill yours.”

She nodded and waved one hand through the air. Julia moaned again, stirred. Already her color had begun to return. He pushed out a relieved breath. She was going to live, he thought, as she slowly opened her eyes. She reached for him.

Though it was the hardest thing he had ever done, he forced himself to turn away from her and face Zirra.

“You will be in my bed this night,” the black-haired witch snapped, striding to him. “Where you belong. Take us home, Romulis. Take us home.”

Without uttering a word, Romulis waved his hand through the air. The only thing that betrayed the sorcerer’s emotions was the shaking of his fingers.

T
RISTAN FELT
the box’s walls close around him. Darkness. Silence. Only the awareness that he was a vaporous entity. Before, it would have killed him to go
willingly into his prison, but now, now he was happy for it. Julia was safe, and gladly he awaited his next summons, knowing what he must do.

“C
OME
.”

He heard Zirra’s summons and obeyed without hesitation. He appeared in her bedchamber. The walls, the bed, the floor, were all as white as he remembered. Too, her heart was as black as he remembered.