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Authors: Alvania Scarborough

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BOOK: SurrendersMischief
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With the need to strangle her or to cover himself?

A full-blown grin curved her lips. She put one finger under
the waistband and tugged. “A tad upset with me, were you?”

“Yes.”

The word was stark, unadorned, wiping the smile from her
face.

His eyes glittered with some undecipherable emotion.

Putting one hand behind his neck, she pulled his face down
to hers. “Maybe I’ll let you convince me to forgive you for defying me,” she
whispered against his mouth.

A mixture of need and desire turned his eyes to molten gold.

Fascinated, she almost forgot her plan to seduce him and was
instead almost seduced. Wrenching her gaze from his, she knelt before him.

The scrap of material did nothing to hide the strength of
his erection. It emphasized his maleness quite nicely. Riana shaped its length
with her hands, loving the contrast between the smooth silk and the heated
flesh beneath. Her breath came faster.

Each glide and pull of the silk under her touch elicited a
deep, guttural groan from Darias.

She felt herself grow damp between the legs, her body
tingling with desire.

His hands tightened in her hair, urging her closer yet.

In the faint light issuing from the stone, she glanced up
the length of his body then, slowly slid the gold silk down his legs.

Fine shivers racked Darias, the muscles of his stomach taut,
his eyes were closed and the tendons in his neck stood out.

She parted her lips and blew gently on the tip of his
erection.

 

Darias tightened his thigh muscles, bracing himself before
he collapsed with pleasure. A wave of heat surged up his cock, followed by
gentle ripples of contractions. He swore he felt her mouth on his swollen
flesh, even though she had yet to touch him there.

If this was punishment, it was like nothing he’d felt
before.

Riana sat back on her heels then rose to her feet.

Intense disappointment washed over him. He opened his mouth
to ask, to plead if necessary, for her not to stop, but tiny eddies of pleasure
coursed over his nerve endings, making speech impossible as she took the tie
from her hair and wrapped the length of silk about his cock. When she let go,
the cool silk slithered to the ground, causing his cock to jerk in reaction.

A prickle of unease cut through the sexual haze when she
twined her fingers with his and led him directly to the Punishment Stone. She
pushed him backward until he stood between the polished stone leg supports. A
low growl of protest rumbled from his chest.

“Trust me.”

Those two tiny words hovered in the air between them. He
stared at her for a long minute, searching her eyes, trying to see to her soul.
Was she just leading him on, adding a different cachet to the punishment?

She’d spoken of her rage as a slave, as his slave. Did she
want him aroused and willing—nay, almost mindless—only to take pleasure in his
defeat? Was this the ultimate punishment?

Her gaze met his unflinchingly, her brilliant green eyes
warm with desire. She didn’t try to hide her feelings, hide the fact that she
wanted him. The fine lawn of her blouse revealed the hardened points of her
breasts.

Could he trust her? Had she told the truth about this
afternoon?

Still holding her gaze, Darias settled on the Punishment
Stone, putting his feet in the stirrups and his arms above his head. The stone,
instead of being cool from the night, retained the heat of the day.

Krel help them both if she were lying.

Memories of his first night out here as slave flashed
through his mind as he lay there, spread for her view. The utter helplessness,
the rage, the bitter taste of surrender. He buried the memories with a
tremendous effort of will, but he couldn’t escape the feeling of being
completely exposed, both physically and mentally. That sense increased when she
snapped the padded cuffs around his ankles and wrists.

Darias waited.

A blindingly brilliant smile lit her face. She leaned down
and kissed his inner thigh.

“Why the cuffs?” He forced the words out of a dry throat.

“Trust me,” she whispered against his skin.

Before he could find the words to make her explain her
actions, she moved to stand between his legs. She ran her hands from his ankles
to just where her knuckles would brush the heavy sac and back down again. The
touch was light, barely ruffling the hair on his legs.

It was driving him insane.

Just when he didn’t think he could stand it anymore, she
slid her hands up until the edges of her palms were right below his nipples.

He sucked in a breath and forgot to let it out. Earlier,
she’d compared his heat to that of the sun. She was wrong. Tonight it was her
warmth he craved, her warmth that warded off the chill of the night and set him
to burning.

Shadows cloaked her face, veiling her in mystery. He
couldn’t tell what she was thinking, what she was feeling.

Or if she was even feeling anything.

Why was she just standing there?

The material of her snug breeches rasped against his thighs,
making him acutely aware she was still fully dressed.

He stared at her, trying to read her expression in the dim
glow provided by the stone bench, but his body blocked most of the light.

She shifted her hands suddenly to cover his nipples, not
moving, she just rested her hands there.

Air rushed out of his lungs, the demand for release,
building all day, shot to an almost unbearable pitch.

“Please don’t stop.” His plea hovered on the air, shocking
him into awareness. Uncertainty again sliced through his excitement as the ugly
suspicion that Riana was toying with him, demanding his trust as some new kind
of punishment crept in and refused to go away. His throat worked but no words
came out.

Then she rotated her palms in slow circles. Without warning,
she pinched one nipple.

Darias arched against his restraints as she tugged on the
hard nub. Sweat broke out on his forehead as he felt the gentle pull all the
way to his balls.

She trailed her hand down his chest then lower.

A deep groan from the center of his being caught in the back
of this throat, every muscle in his body tensed in anticipation.

She tangled her fingers in the line of hair that led to his
groin.

He sucked in a breath. Though he didn’t think it possible,
his arousal swelled still further.

A cloud scuttled from in front of the moon, allowing him to
see Riana’s face in detail. Her gaze locked on his, she lowered her head and
engulfed the tip of his shaft with her mouth.

He arched upward as far as his bonds would allow.

Hot. Wet. Teasing. Her tongue swirled around the tiny slit
that bisected the tip. He felt a prickling of familiarity as he surged upward,
craving the feel of her warm mouth swallowing the entire length of him, while
sheer frustration tore through him as he found he couldn’t move more than a
tiny fraction.

Her hair, the color of flame even in moonlight, cascaded
across his thighs, caressing his tense muscles with tantalizing softness.

His eyes slid closed, but that nagging sense of familiarity
strengthened, became impossible to ignore.

Her soft hands cupped his balls.

His hands clenched on the hard stone. She rolled the
smaller, inner spheres. Darias slammed his head back as he arched his neck.
Krel, he was as hard as the smooth stone, but unlike the stone, he could
pleasure her.

If she’d just let him.

Cold air hit his erection. His eyes snapped opened. He was
poised painfully on the edge of fulfillment.

Clouds once again masked Riana’s expression in shadow. She
stood between his legs, close enough that he could feel the heat from her body,
feel the brush of her breeches over his arousal.

But she still didn’t say a word.

All at once that odd feeling he’d been having became clear.

Riana was recreating his first punishment, here, in the
garden.

Harsh breathing echoed in his ears. Distantly, he realized
it was his.

But this time was different. Each action eerily echoed those
of punishment, but each action was also subtly different.

With each touch, with each caress, she let him know that
this time she wouldn’t leave him unfulfilled. All he had to do was believe in
her.

Everything else faded away until all that was left was
Darias and Riana. He stared into her eyes. Could he? Did he dare believe that
this time was different? Heart thundering in his chest, Darias relinquished the
last essence of his control.

He relaxed and gave a small nod.

She slid one finger from the top of his buttocks, to the
taut sac hanging between his legs. His breath hitched as the gentle glide of
her fingers traveled back the same way. The heavy muscles of his buttocks
clenched on the anal plug as she neared forbidden territory.

He wasn’t ready for this. Every fiber of his being rejected
the light caress. The plug had kept him aroused and heavy. His breeches had
only served to highlight the evidence of his need. Every step, every movement
making him aware of the intimate invader. Tartarius, just standing still, the
thing made its presence known.

She pressed her cheek against his belly. “Not tonight,”
Riana whispered. She tugged on the plug.

His untried muscles fought the pressure. He arched against
the pleasure mixed with not quite pain.

She continued to pull until it was all the way out.

He felt empty once it was gone. Lost. Which was strange
since he hated the loss of control it represented.

She unbuckled the bonds restraining his legs. Then leaned up
over his body and released the cuffs around his wrists. Her slight weight
against him was an exercise in exquisite torture.

His hips flexed upward involuntarily.

Face-to-face, this close her fragrance filled his head. It
was more than the perfume she wore, though Krel knew that was erotic enough, it
was the clean, feminine smell that was Riana’s alone. To the day he died, he
knew he’d be able to recognize Riana by her ultrafeminine scent.

“Haven’t we done this before?” he asked, his voice rough and
raspy but filled with humor.

She grinned, a pure mischievous curve of her lips. “You
finally figured it out, huh? For a Supreme Chief, you’re kinda slow on the
uptake.”

“Supreme Chief no more. Now I’m a slave.” But there was no
bitterness to the statement. Oh, he still hated his position, but he’d
reluctantly come to the conclusion that Riana was right—he had suffered no more
under her hands than she’d suffered under his.

“Ah, that explains it.” She wriggled back down his body.
“Maybe I should have given a more explicit demonstration of my intentions.” Her
eyes glinted.

The ridges of her teeth raked the entire length of his
penis, sending cold chills chasing down his spine yet conversely flooding him
with a scorching heat. His heart thundered in his chest as he fought to hold
still, to enjoy the slow, erotic torment for as long as possible. Soon, though,
the wet heat of her mouth and the knowing caresses of her hands became too much
to endure without moving.

The urge to rock in counterpoint to the glide of her mouth,
the stroke of her tongue won. Raw, unadulterated pleasure raced through his
veins. “Krel, yes!” He shaped her head with his hands, holding her still as his
hips rhythmically flexed. Hot release poured forth. A hard shudder racked him
and he gave a gut-wrenching groan. His hands fell to his sides.

Darias didn’t think he could even raise his head. Nothing in
his life had prepared him for the bone-deep sense of completion that had left
him spent and replete.

He summoned enough energy to speak. “Another demonstration
like that and I won’t see dawn.”

Riana smiled, a look of pure, female satisfaction on her
lovely face. “Trust me.”

* * * * *

Deep gold touched the horizon. Darias pushed a wisp of
tangled hair off Riana’s face.

The Punishment Stone was damn uncomfortable. Then again, its
design was never meant for two people.

He drew one finger over her high cheekbones to her full
bottom lip.

She sucked in the tip of his finger.

His lower body stirred in response.

Impossible. After last night it should have needed a full
month to recover.

Riana straddled his hips and trailed kisses between his pecs
down to his navel. She dipped her tongue inside and his body roared to life.

Then again, around Riana he’d been known to be wrong before.

The sun was just creeping above the walls of the keep when
he was able to speak again.

“Why the cuffs?” he asked, truly curious.

“You hated the punishment.”

He nodded.

“I didn’t want you haunted by memories of what I did to you
here, what you did to me. I wanted you to remember the pleasure we gave each
other.”

“Couldn’t you have just told me your plan?”

She shook her head, amusement flaring in her eyes. “If I’ve
learned one thing, it’s that the men of Nexar are as thick as Anjarian mud. And
their leader is the worst. You needed proof.” She waggled her brows. “Besides,
I suspected I needed a captive audience when I opened my little bag.”

Darias scowled, his pride pricked by the implication he was
afraid of anything. “We can get along without any tricks from a bag. Last night
proved that.” His curiosity piqued, however, he couldn’t resist asking, “What’s
in the bag? You didn’t take anything from it last night.”

“Because I got distracted.” Riana hopped down from the
stone. She had to steady herself with one hand on his stomach for a moment. “If
we can get along without the bag, I guess you don’t need to see what I had
planned for this morning, hmm?” She scooped up her clothes in one hand and the
bag in the other.

“Shame. The feather is my absolute favorite.” The words
floated over her shoulder as she strolled up the path leading to the
bedchamber. Her lushly curved derriere disappeared from view.

BOOK: SurrendersMischief
6.15Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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