To The Princess Bound (49 page)

Guilty.  The current Adjudicator has failed the trust of his people and is hereby removed from service by order of the Grand Justice of the Imperium.  His fate is relinquished to the hands of the local Adjudicate from which he hails.  May his successor gain insight from his demise.  Glory to the Imperium, and wisdom to its Adjudicators.

Victory, who had been confined to her quarters during the Adjudicator’s trial—all government officials of Mercy having been given strict orders to cease operations and stay in their homes while the Justices made their decision—had watched all of the proceedings in her personal chambers with her full escort of Praetorian, plus Lion, Whip, Dragomir, and Thor.  As the Grand Justice made her pronouncement on public com, Victory slumped to her bed in a mixture of relief and exhaustion.

“That’s good, right?” Thor asked.  Neither of the brothers had been able to understand the Justices’ pronouncement, and Victory had stopped translating for them once she’d heard the very first word.

“Very good,” Victory said softly.  “It means my father is never going to sit on a throne again.”

A moment later, a missive arrived, bearing the Seal of the Imperium.  Lion took it from the messenger at the door and carried it across the room to Victory.

“Read it to me,” Victory said, already feeling the weight of responsibility settling over her shoulders.

Lion immediately broke the seal and opened it.  “By decree of the Grand Justice, Keene Drafton, First Generation Royal, will be stepping down from the throne of Mercy.  As his heirs are not implicated in the evidence arrayed against him, his abdication shall be succeeded by one Second Generation Royal, Victoria Drafton.  Glory to the Imperium, and wisdom to its Adjudicators.”

“Wisdom to the Adjudicator,” Lion finished softly, dropping to one knee, lowering her graying head, fist on heart.  Whip, too, repeated the hail, dropping to one knee.  Behind them, the entire Praetorian Guard fell with them.

Dragomir, who had been frowning at the kneeling Praetorian, looked back at her and said, “I suppose this means you’re the empress, now?”

Victory nodded, still too overwhelmed to believe it.

“And that means you can tell anyone on this rock what to do and they’ve gotta do it?”  Dragomir raised a brow in question.

Victory nodded again, the enormity of that fact still settling in her mind.

“Good,” Dragomir said.  “Get the old biddy and everyone else out of here.”  He grinned, his blue eyes dancing.  “I have something I want to show you.”

Looking up at his big body, Victory felt a thrill of mingled fear and exhilaration as she considered what that thing might be.  Clearing her throat, she slowly got to her feet.  In her most formal voice, she said to the group of women standing behind her two captains, “My friends, as your new Adjudicator, do you swear to obey me in everything I ask?”

Still on their knees, they gave the formal reply in unison, “Until death, milady.”

Victory nodded and turned to her youngest captain.  “Whip, as your new Adjudicator, and you as my captain, do you swear to obey me in everything I ask?”

Whip responded on cue, her head still lowered to the ground.  “Until death, milady.”  Her voice was low and soft, full of sincerity.

Victory nodded, then turned to Lion.  “Lion, as your new Adjudicator, and you as my high captain, do you swear to obey me in everything that I ask?”

“Until
death
, milady,” was Lion’s firm and heartfelt response.

“Good,” Victory said.  “Get out.  All of you.  Whip, go have some more fun with your Shi.  Lion, go start drafting an order to halt all slave trade, starting tonight.  All slaves on all vessels shall be returned to their homes.  Any trader caught disobeying the edict will lose his ill-begotten property and join my father as an Imperial war-criminal to serve penance in native villages across Mercy.”

Lion narrowed her eyes, glancing at the Emp.  “But milady, another Praetorian could—”

Victory smiled sweetly.  “I told
you
to do it.”

Lion’s face darkened, but only for an instant.  Then she stood up and saluted, fist to heart.  “As you command, milady.”  She bowed, deeply, then barked, “You heard the Adjudicator! 
Out
!”  As the others were quickly filing through the door, Lion gave Dragomir one last frown.

Dragomir grinned at her and waved politely.

Huffing, Lion slammed the door shut behind her, leaving Victory alone with her Emp.

“You know,” Dragomir said, scanning the room, “This place looks strangely familiar.”  He gave her a mischievous look.  “You up for a bath?”

Was she
ever.
  Victory leapt off the bed and was halfway across the room when she hesitated.  She looked up at Dragomir, saw the powerful muscles moving beneath his Praetorian armor, and felt a tingle of anxious anticipation.

“A
good
one, this time,” Dragomir promised.  He pulled the black Praetorian helmet from his head and set it on the bed.  He was grinning as he unbuckled the obsidian breastplate and pulled it from his chest.  “One we’ll
both
enjoy.”  He dropped it to the floor, leaving his torso bare.

Victory swallowed, eyes on his big hands, then nodded.

He removed the last of his armor, revealing his homespun peasant’s trousers underneath.  Then, in a swift forward move, swept her into his arms.  Victory gasped as she felt the floor drop away beneath her, and found herself clinging to his strong shoulders as he carried her to the tub.

“Um,” she whimpered, as he set her down and started to fill the bath.  She had never actually been with a man willingly, before, and now that he was
there,
his catlike muscles flexing in his back as he bent to test the water, her rational mind was having second thoughts.

She watched, nervous, as he filled the tub with steaming liquid and ran his hands through the surface.  When he turned and grinned at her, she gave him an anxious smile.

When he stood and reached for the waistband of his pants, however, Victory fell into a crouch and squeezed her eyes shut.

Dragomir might have vanquished her visions, but the memories remained.

“You and your Praetorian are worried I’m controlling you,” Dragomir said softly.  “So tonight, I will keep my energy to myself.”  She heard the sound of his pants sliding down his thighs.  She felt his heat as he squatted beside her, ran a big thumb along her temple.  “I hate to make that promise, Princess, and it’s the only time I ever will.”  He leaned forward, kissed her forehead.  Against her ear, he whispered, “After tonight, I intend to use every resource I have to please my mate.”  Then she felt him stand, still unable to bring herself to open her eyes.  “For tonight, though, you’re going to have to trust me on your own.”

Victory’s heart was pounding as she felt his body move, heard water slosh, listened to the tub creak under his weight.  Gingerly, she opened her eyes.

Dragomir was sitting opposite her, leaning his head back against the marble rim, shrouded by wisps of steam from the hot water.  He lifted his head and gave her an encouraging smile and gestured at the tub.  “I think you’re right about one thing, Princess,” he said, grinning at her over the surface of the bath.  “This certainly does beat a splash in the creek.”

Victory made a nervous chuckle, her heart lodged in her throat.  She glanced at the exit to the bathroom and Dragomir went still in the tub.

“Leave if you have to,” he said softly.  “I can wait as long as you need, Princess.”

Heart hammering, she looked back at him.  She bit her lip, debating.  Half of her craved to be in his arms, her body tight against his, once more caught up in his embrace. 

The other half remembered six years of heartbreak. 

“You can trust me,” Dragomir whispered, as she hesitated.

Palms clammy with fear, Victory’s fingers found the hem of her shirt.

“But before you do,” Dragomir said softly, watching her, “I want you to know, Princess, that if you share this bath with me, I will be making love to you tonight.”  His blue gaze was intense when he said, “Tonight, tomorrow night, and every night thereafter.  You will be
mine
, and I will show you the pleasures that you have missed each night for the rest of your life, to make up for lost time.” 

Oh gods, he had to go and say that,
Victory thought, acutely aware of the heat suddenly pooling between her legs.  Worse, he finished with such vehemence that, with his sweat-slickened body and the steam rising around him, he reminded her of the visage of an angry god.  She almost lost her nerve.

Then her fingers began to move of their own accord.  She pulled her shirt up to the swell of her breasts, then hesitated as his gaze sharpened.  She swallowed, feeling like a deer caught in a hunter’s sights.

I will not be ruled by the past,
she thought, meeting his eyes.  Shaking, she yanked the shirt over her head and stood.  She let her pants fall around her ankles and stepped free.

Dragomir waited.

Trembling, Victory went to the edge of the tub.  Her heart crammed into her throat when she saw his manhood within, hard and erect against his flat stomach.

“You can trust me, Princess,” Dragomir said softly.  “You have my word.”

She met his eyes and gave a nervous smile.  “It’s Adjudicator, now,” she said.  And slipped into the water with him.

He moved toward her, then, water swirling as he placed a dripping hand on the tub’s rim on either side of her.  His large body dwarfing hers, he grinned down at her.  “Adjudicator,” he said, kissing her gently.  “That might take awhile to learn.”  He kissed her jaw, tenderly, then slid down to kiss her neck and throat.

“You can call me Victory,” she managed, shivering beneath his great bulk as he brought the heat roiling within her to the surface with every brush of his lips.

“Oh?” he asked, with a kiss.  “You told me never to use that name for you, Princess.”  His lips found her taut nipple just above the surface of the water and he closed his mouth around it, suckling.  Victory gasped and arced her back as the pressure built in her core; a warm, aching heat that had already begun to devour her.

He released her nipple and his tongue glided over it in a lazy caress, lapping, bringing a moan from Victory’s lips as she reached up and delicately wrapped her hands over his thick shoulders, pulling him closer in her need.

Dragomir chuckled against her breast.  “You like that, Princess?”

“Victory,” she gasped, as he moved to the other.  “Call me Victory.”  She couldn’t think, could do anything but feel his body moving against hers.

He gently took her other nipple into his mouth, drawing searing bolts of passion up from her core, filling her chest, making her heart pound crazily against her lungs.  Victory felt dizzy with need as his great hands explored her, slipping beneath the water to glide against her hips, moving inward to part her thighs.  She gasped as his fingers slid down to brush her nub, then gently began stroking her there to match the suckling of her breast.

Immediately, a pressure began to build within her core, a searing, demanding heat that left Victory clinging to his body, moaning, as it tried to crest.

Then, unbidden, she thought again of the last man who had been between her legs, of the horrible things he had done.  A part of her quailed and she tensed, realizing what he meant to do.

“I can’t,” she whimpered, feeling the hot, uncontrollable passion throbbing within, knowing what would come.  Before it could finish building, she began to crawl backwards out of the tub.

Dragomir’s big hand on her shoulder stopped her.

“It’s okay, love,” he whispered, his hold gentle-yet-firm, his sincere blue eyes only inches from her own.  “Trust me.” 

Victory met his gaze, hesitated. 
Could
she trust him?  He was bigger than she.  He could take her if he wished.  And yet, he was giving her a choice.  She searched his soul, trying to find some reason to get out of the tub. 

He waited, motionless, allowing her to look, bearing his soul for her inspection.  And, slowly, she felt her anxiety melt away under the honesty she saw in his eyes. 
He could use his Emp powers to calm me,
she thought,
But he’s not.  He’s letting me decide for myself.
  Reluctantly, Victory slid back into the water.

He smiled, then, beaming with genuine happiness as he slid back over her.  He kissed her gently upon her forehead, then her jaw, then lowered his mouth and worked his tongue around her areola, teasing.  She whimpered with the pleasure that once more began to build, overpowering even the fear she carried buried in her past.  She once again dug her fingers into his shoulders as the pressure within became unbearable.  He tenderly renewed his attentions to her nub, caressing it with expert fingers, stroking and rubbing as he tenderly suckled her breast. Then, gently, he caught her nipple between his teeth and tugged.

Victory cried out as the warmth suddenly exploded within her core.

Grinning, Dragomir wrapped his arms around her and lifted her from the water.  As Victory tried to understand that, he took her to the other side of the bath and gently laid her back on a low shelf, so that her body was exposed to air.  Laying there, looking up at him, Victory saw his manhood jutting from between his legs, a staff with which to impale her most sensitive parts.