SurrendersMischief (27 page)

Riana heard a muted hum as the
goldjel
increased its
energy output yet another level higher.

She ran the feather over his buttocks as his hips left the
mattress.

A strangled groan echoed on the air as he pumped his hips
helplessly, the
goldjel
absorbing his come.

He was beautiful in release. He gleamed with sweat, the
light defining each hard plane of his body. She was tempted to sit there and
watch him, but, before the stimulation could become uncomfortable instead of
pleasurable, she removed the
goldjel
and replaced it in the jar.

A sheen of sweat covered Darias’ body.

She leaned down and tasted the salty flesh of his stomach
with the tip of her tongue. Turning her head, she rested her cheek on his
heaving belly.

At last his breathing evened out.

Darias cupped the back of her head in one large hand. “I
think I like your feather.”

She kissed his bellybutton. Taking a deep breath, she pushed
upright. The muscles in her stomach quivered at what she was about to do. She
only hoped she wasn’t pushing Darias too hard, too fast.

“Do you have faith in me?”

“Haven’t I just proved that I do?” He grinned. “To both our
satisfactions?”

“Turn over.”

He did so immediately and without hesitation.

Awed by his trust, she pulled a small bottle of oil from the
case. Pouring a small amount in her hand, she warmed it between her palms. The
exotic fragrance of
rantatia
wood filled the air. Placing her hands on
his shoulders, she curved them over the heavy muscles, loving the feel of his
strength beneath her palms. Pressing her thumbs to each side of his spine, she
dragged them down to the small of his back. Putting more oil on her hands, she
sensuously massaged the sensitive area before letting her fingers drift lower.

He stiffened.

“No.”

Snuggling her cheek on the curve of his flank, she pressed
tiny kisses against his skin. “Please.” She had to get him to agree, to erase
the memory of his punishment in the garden and the fiasco from yesterday.

“You promised you wouldn’t,” he grated.

“I promised I wouldn’t last night,” she corrected. “This
won’t be like it was in the garden, I promise. This will be different.” She
almost said,
trust me
, but this time Darias had to come to that choice
on his own, without any prompting from her.

“I can’t.”

“Because I did it during punishment or because it caused you
embarrassment yesterday?” Tears burned her eyes. Tears she refused to allow
fall.

He turned over. He lifted his hand, cupping her face and
catching one glittering drop on his thumb. “No. No to both.”

She sucked the tip of his thumb into his mouth, taking her
inside him. Riana thought her heart would melt even as the ache in her chest
refused to go away.

“I just can’t.”

She produced a wobbling smile. One step at a time. Maybe one
day he’d trust her as he had in the office. Trust her to remove the other
memory. “Turn over.” Even to her own ears, her voice was smoky, sensual.

He met her eyes for a long moment before he abruptly rolled
to his stomach.

She pressed her thumbs on each side of his spine, loving the
firm, glide of strong muscle under oiled skin. She skimmed her thumbs, framing the
deep indent, down until they met as the start of the powerful muscles of his
buttocks. He tensed. She smoothed her hands back up to his shoulder blades.
There, she spread her fingers. He was so broad she didn’t even begin to span
the breadth of his massive shoulders. An exquisite heated tingle puffed the
lips of her pussy and started a trickle of moisture down the inside of her
thigh. He made her feel so small, almost dainty.

A wry smile lifted the corner of her mouth and she almost
snorted. Dainty! Life as an independent trader didn’t have room for dainty. She
had to be self-reliant and able to look after herself. To give as good as she
got. And she could. She had the scars to prove it. But, against Darias’ size
and strength, she felt feminine and all female. She loved that. Almost as much
as she loved the fact that all that power and strength submitted willingly to
her.

Leaning forward, she kissed the spot between his shoulder
blades then just under the left one. Tightening her thighs against his haunches,
she slid sensuously down until she was sitting just above his knees. Her breath
caught as her pussy dragged over the sculpted perfection of his ass.

She poured more of the oil into the cup of her palm, rubbing
it between her hands to warm it. Placing a hand on each buttock, she savored
for a moment the flex of the powerful muscles beneath her touch. She nipped the
curve of his ass. Her lips stilled on his skin, she murmured, “You’re built
like a warrior, all clean lines and strength.”

“I am a warrior.” His voice was deeper, hoarser.

Her hands continued rubbing and stroking, testing the
resilience of his inner thighs and then the softness behind his scrotum.

He spread his legs a bit more, silently encouraging her to
further exploration.

Sitting up, she ran her hands back up, this time letting her
thumbs trace the seam of his buttocks.

He tensed, an almost imperceptible tightening of his
muscles, so slight that she wouldn’t have even noticed if her body hadn’t been
hugging his.

“Mmm. I know you are.” Pretending she hadn’t felt his
reaction, she slid her hands down again, this time dipping a little deeper into
the crease separating the cheeks. She paused, her thumbs on each side of his
anus. “You pleased me last night.” He’d done more than please her. She’d pushed
him hard, teased him with the threat of punishment, only to show him that if he
gave himself to her, trusted her, she would give him pleasure that a Nexarian
couldn’t even begin to imagine. She should be satisfied.

But she wasn’t.

For there was that last bit of his trust she didn’t own.

Most women wouldn’t mind.

As his Mistress, she wanted Darias, cock, balls and ass.

As the woman who loved him, she wanted him heart, body, mind
and soul…and his complete trust.

No, not until she had that would she be completely
satisfied.

Nor would he.

“When you trust me, really trust me…” Her touch light, she
ringed the tight opening with the pad of one thumb. His cheeks clenched,
trapping the motion. “I will take you here.” Not giving him time to protest or
to say anything, she swung her leg over him and cuddled next to Darias. “But
not until you trust me.”

Darias pulled her close, next to his heat and power. He
didn’t say anything, just pulled her hand over until it cupped his rear.

She sighed, not sure if they were ever going to get to that
point. One of them was going to have to compromise.

* * * * *

Darias woke up, a contented groan on his lips as he rolled
over, noting that Riana was already up and about. How did the woman do it?
She’d worn him to a nub. Not even his most vigorous workout with Gaith had
stolen his energy this much.

He grinned, then again, he’d never felt the need to wrestle
with Gaith all night.

Pulling himself upright against the headboard, he yawned and
scratched his stomach. His hand froze mid-stroke.

There, on the foot of the bed, were his well-worn leather
breeches and work tunic.

Chapter Fourteen

Three weeks later

Gaith had a dark frown on his face as he hurried down the
wide staircase. “We need to talk.” Not giving Darias a chance to say anything,
he hauled him into an empty room and shut the door.

Darias crossed his arms over his wide chest. “Well?”

“Our plan is not working!” Pure frustration glinted out of
his First’s eyes.

Darias looked closer. The fine silk of Gaith’s tunic was
sticking to his back. He glanced away quickly as the man’s buttocks clenched in
a rhythm he immediately recognized. Darias fought the flush creeping up his
neck as he remembered some of his encounters with Riana’s toys. At least the
leather breeches she’d returned to him hid the effect of her mischief better
than the silk slave trousers had. It was odd, really, how quick Bryta had been
to adopt Riana’s ways and attitude but still insisted on keeping Gaith in the
revealing clothes.

In fact, he was amazed at the dominant tendencies all the
women showed. Despite his belief the women would soon crumble without the men
to guide them, they were not only showing themselves as capable of running a
business but of not hesitating to keep their men in line.

A grudging respect filled Darias.

“Perhaps we need to rethink our plan.”

The words were out of his mouth before he even realized what
he was going to say.

“We need to take control from the women.” There was a
pugnacious thrust to Gaith’s jaw.

“You would have us break our word?”

Though the admonishment was mild, deep chagrin flashed
across the other man’s face. “No, of course not. It’s just that everything we
try the women find a way around. I just heard that the trade strike is over.
All of our planning, all of our interference, all of our punishment was for
naught! Bryta is even selling,” he hesitated, “things to the other women! She
should be punished.”

A surge of impatience went through Darias. “Have you not had
your fill of punishment? Perhaps if we men had listened to our women instead of
seeking ways to keep them subservient, we wouldn’t be in this predicament now.”
Ignoring the shock on the other man’s face, he turned to leave, needing some
time alone to think.

“Riana is opening Nexar to traders from out of the sector.”

Looked as if he wasn’t going to be alone after all.

* * * * *

“You can’t be serious!” Darias stormed into the Great Hall,
his expression as dark as the storm clouds outside the huge windows.

Riana sighed. Somehow he’d heard about her plan to open
trade with select offworld traders. She settled deeper into the elaborately
carved chair. A hush fell on the chamber. Several of the nearest women, members
of the Council, turned expectant faces in her direction. The men, who had been
quietly going about the business of seeing to the Council members’ needs,
froze.

“You can’t seriously intend to invite outsiders to trade
with Nexar.”

“Why not?” she asked mildly. “Nexar needs an influx of both
goods and money to pull it out of the economic slump.”

“Outsiders will ruin Nexar with their ways.” Darias
continued up the steps until he was standing less than a hand’s breadth from
Riana. “I forbid it.”

A collective gasp went up from the interested spectators.

Riana heard a
tap
,
tap
,
tap
. Annoyed,
she looked around for the offender then realized she was drumming her fingers
on the polished arm of the chair. She forced herself to stop.

“You forbid it,” she repeated slowly. She began tapping the
toe of one foot.

“I will not allow you to pollute my country-state with the
insidious customs of offworlders.”

Thunder rumbled in the distance. Riana forgot about their
audience as she leaned forward. “Your country-state is slowly stagnating to
death. You know I speak the truth. I’ve read your journals. You were looking
for an industry capable of making the transition from agriculture to industrial
more viable. But there wasn’t one at hand, was there? People were leaving the
land, but Nexar had little else to offer.”

“I would have found a solution,” he gritted from between
clenched teeth.

“I agree. The question is…would you have found it in time?”

His slashed his hand in the air. “Inviting people
unaccustomed to our ways will not cure our woes.”

Pure fury ignited inside Riana. She stood up. Darias was one
step below her. It put them nose to nose. Riana waded in. “Your ways? Your
ways?” she yelled. “Your ways made slaves of women. Your ways kept you isolated
as a people. Your ways pitted man against woman, made it illegal for a woman to
offer her opinion.”

“I noticed it never stopped you,” he drawled, insolence in
his very bearing.

“Because I was not imbrued in your ways!” She shoved on his
chest. It was like trying to move a mountain.

“You adopted our ways quick enough when it suited you,” he
shot back. “You punished me when I voiced an opinion, refused to let me voice a
say!”

“I’m letting you have a say now, aren’t I?” she fumed. “And
I don’t hear one constructive word out of your mouth.”

“Would you listen?” he shot back.

Riana leaned closer to hear the question. She didn’t
hesitate. “Yes.”

“Even if you don’t like what you hear?”

“Yes. Even if I don’t like what you have to say.”

The silence in the chamber became deafening. Riana looked
around. They were the cynosure of every eye in the place. “What are you people
looking at?” she demanded, exasperated. She couldn’t even have an argument in
this place without all knowing about it. She grabbed Darias by the arm. “Let’s
go into the office where we can speak in private.” She glared at the closest
group of offenders. “Maybe then we can work something out we can both agree
on.”

* * * * *

Riana turned the key in the massive, old-fashioned lock in
the office door. She rested her forehead against the cool wood, hoping it would
soothe the throbbing in her temples. She placed both palms flat against the
door and let it support her weight. What was he thinking?

“Why did you give me back my leather breeches?”

It was the last thing she expected to hear. Her hand dropped
from the wood and she rubbed it nervously against the side of her leg. “You
don’t have any idea?”

“No.”

“Because I knew how much you hated the slave pants.” Would
he understand the significance behind the action? Would he understand it was
her way of trying to compromise? Of trying to find a way to work together
instead of locked in battle? Breath lodged in her throat, she waited for his
response.