Steel Dominance (15 page)

The quiet ferocity in those words bothered him. His assassin functioned best when detached. He sighed, flipped the knives, and caught the hilts again. “She is pretty. You know I hate killing those. I’ll consider it if you present me with a report detailing all your reasons. Ready?”

“I will do this. Yes, I am ready. You are off-balance. Your right foot is too far forward.”

“Oh.” The misplaced foot was deliberate, of course. He shifted as if to fix the problem and smoothly extended the move into a lunge for her left eye.

Chapter Thirteen

By the time they pulled up beside the gate to the compound, she was resigned to waiting for him to explain. He tugged her from the car by the hand and hurried her inside. It was past four in the afternoon by then. Their only conversation in the limo had been when Dankyo asked if she’d had lunch. When she’d told him she vaguely recalled eating, he’d narrowed his eyes, grunted, and gone back to silence.

They reached a door, and she realized he’d brought her again to the sword-practice courtyard.

“Why are we here? I’d like to get washed and changed.”

“Here.” He dragged her into the small side room. “This is yours.” He handed her one of two wooden swords. “It’s a practice sword. And we are going to practice until you learn some swordplay. And this can go too.”

Ruthlessly, he ripped the train from her costume and most of the attached diaphanous silk.

Ruined, and so pretty too
. She gaped. “What…why did you do that?”

“It would have gotten in the way.”

Without waiting for her to turn aside, he stripped off his clothes until he was naked, then put on a pair of the cotton training pants he took from a small cupboard.

My, my, my
. She put her tongue to her top lip while he tied the drawstring. The image of his perfect, toned lower body refused to leave her mind.
But…no. Mind off that. He is being a bastard.

She followed after him back into the courtyard. Shadows already darkened the shaded niches. “Practice? Now? Why now, Sir?”

“Because I say so.” He came behind her and pulled her arms up so the sword faced forward, then went to her front, turned, stamped his feet and took up a fighting stance. “I am going to teach you the basics of using the sword.”

“Now? I’m tired.” She pouted. “How long does it take to get good at sword fighting?”

“Years.” He readjusted his feet.

“What! God. I quit already. You stay and practice killing petals. Tomorrow, please.” She let the sword lower until it pointed at her feet.

The growl he made was fearsome enough to alarm her. She squeaked and took a step back.
My God
. Her heart did a frightened gallop.

“Sofia. Raise. Your. Sword.”

She did so.

For the next hour, she swung the sword and danced about, learning footwork, riposting, and thrusting, and battering her wooden sword against his. At first it was fun—she recognized patterns quickly. Though her muscle strength and speed were pitiful, she loved this new branch of learning. Especially when a gleam of approval showed in Dankyo’s eyes at her fast improvement. Then her untrained muscles tired, and she tripped and fell.

“Come,” he said. “We’ll stop awhile.” Awhile turned out to be a ten-minute break to drink, and wipe off sweat.

Dusk had arrived. Red and orange tinted the sky above Dankyo’s head.

“Again.” He drew her out into the middle, and they danced about and fought some more. Over and over and over. Voltaic sconce lights flickered and buzzed as they came on, then cast blue circles across the yard. Now and then, when she made a mistake, Dankyo smacked her butt, hard, with the flat of the blade. Though she hissed at the small pain, she refused to yelp or complain.

Damn him.

He showed her a new stance.

“Again.”

Weary, she raised her sword, then moved her grip, and firmed her jaw. As she stood there panting, sweat ran down the side of her face and over her stomach. She would not let him beat her. The man was being a bastard. She adjusted her weight from foot to foot, staying springy and ready for movement.

“You’re fit,” he said, grudgingly.

“I was on the running and the rowing team at college. I’m
not
a pushover.”

He eyed her, lowered his gaze a moment as if thinking, then straightened, and let his sword point fall. “Enough. We are done.”

Annoyance kept her from tripping again on the way to the low table.

He poured her a drink, watched her swallow it, and then poured another. “This too.”

Once she’d drained the glass, he took it from her and placed it on the table with the swords. Fatigue crept in, and she swayed. Crossness kept her from lying down on the cushions and pretending to be a rag doll…a very sweaty rag doll.

“Why? Why did you push me? Why now? Are you trying to turn me into a pile of mush?”

He smiled.

Dumbstruck, she stared back. At last. It was like the tide coming in on a deserted beach. Life returned. Tears came to her eyes. Angrily she scrubbed them away with her forearm, then sniffed. “Damn you. Why do I care? You just made me so unhappy.”

His smile faded. Then he stepped in close, and picked her up under her armpits. She gasped as he carried her all the way to the plaster wall behind where he held her with her feet dangling. Dankyo buried his face in her neck and breathed a while. She felt his lips on her skin and his tongue taste her.

What was this? Little tremors ran across the thick muscles of his shoulders.

“Thank God, you’re alive.” He let her slip a little lower until she could see his eyes on a level with hers.

“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”

He moved so his thighs were between hers and supporting her, his arms wrapped across her back. “Two hours. You promised me to be back in two hours. You took three and a half.”

Ah. It was that. All this because… “You worried about me? I didn’t really promise, did I? And I was only all excited about everything. Time just…went. I’m sorry.”

He shook his head, smiled grimly. “I did this not so as to turn you to mush. I did it to lose my anger. My anger at you. Your ass should be red and maybe even black and blue.”

“Oh? Umm.” Slowly her eyebrows raised. “It is sore! You whacked me with that damn sword.” She squirmed, feeling the bruises awaken as her backside rubbed on the wall.

“Uh-uh. No. You are not going anywhere.” His arm worked free from between her back and the wall, and then he gripped one side of her top and ripped it away. Though she wriggled some more, he did the same with her panties, maneuvering the fabric out from between their bodies and tossing it aside. “Better, much better.”

Naked with Dankyo between her legs. His erection nudged at her cleft. Only the cotton of his pants separated them. He nipped her lip, caught it between his teeth, then kissed her roughly.

Emerging from the kiss breathing hard and with her clit stirring with warmth, she tried one more time. “I’m all sweaty and awful! We can’t do this.”

He growled. “Be still.”

Her voice trailed off. “Not…not here” She pushed at his shoulders, only to have him whip his other hand from behind her back, catch both her wrists, and hold them to the wall above her head.

“Yes. Here.” Then he watched her as carefully as a bug collector observing a strange new butterfly while he wormed his hand between them and pushed a finger inside her.

Though she’d never seen anyone in this secluded place, the possibility was there, and that both horrified and excited her.
How perverted am I? No one normal would want this
. But her breaths came faster and wetness trickled from her slit with each in-and-out slide of his digit. Slowly waves of need stirred, making her shudder. Knowledge thumped into her—he held her pinned, helpless, with her legs spread by his.

She tried again to move her hands, but they might have been cemented there.

It seemed right to protest. “Let me go!”

Dankyo stepped away until her legs slipped from his thighs, and she stood straining on tiptoe with her arms above her.

“Let you go? Those words again? You know where we are, now. How it is.” Dark amusement colored his voice. He pulled his finger from her and played with her clit, circling it as if it were a new toy. “Those words don’t work, Sofia. I have your yes. Until you take that away, you are mine. So I can do this.” He added a finger and thrust two of them up into her. “Or this.” The third joined them, sliding, finding its way between her swollen labia, stretching her vagina in an exquisite way.

Her mouth fell open in a gasp.

Without conscious thought, her hips tilted, as if she begged for more.

But I am begging. I want…

Another thrust went straight in full depth until the knuckle of his unburied finger touched her lips and his thumb bumped her clit. Then his hand beneath her shoved her a whole inch up the wall.

“Uh!” She shut her eyes.

She moaned and let herself dangle there, supported by his hand between her legs, her toenails barely scraping the ground. Him fucking her while he observed, and while he knew she was a heartbeat from saying no, made her want this even more.

“That’s…beautiful.” The male baritone depth made her jerk her eyes open.

His eyes narrowed. A smile grew as he surveyed her from her face to her breasts and then downward. His gaze lingered at the split of her legs where he’d speared inside. More liquid spilled from her over his hand.

“Move,” she croaked, then panted some more and did a little wiggle as she tested the iron grip on her wrists. Her walls clamped down on the hardness of his fingers.

Dankyo chuckled. “Move?” Then he came closer, covering her struggling body with his. “Be quiet.” As if to punctuate his command, he clamped his teeth on her earlobe. The sting shocked her into stillness. “You don’t get a say in what I do. Not at all.”

This time his kiss was brutal. His lips crushed and devoured her, seeming to sucking the very breath from her lungs. She let herself sag, whirling away into a hot, panting darkness, breathing when he let her. He released her wrists and took his fingers out.

When she whimpered at the loss, he gripped both her buttocks. With firm bites and kisses he laid claim to her lips, her chin, her throat, and the angle of her neck, worrying at her here and there like a dog with a favorite toy.

With her hands free, she still could do nothing to stop him but clutch at his shoulders, powerless. His sweat-slicked muscles rolled under her fingertips and etched the strength of this man into her mind. Man and woman. Strong versus weak.
But this, I want—I
need
this.

His kisses and bites stamped his possession into her flesh.

When he was done, she had melted, or so it seemed. Her legs wobbled, and only his body pressing on hers kept her from collapsing. Sweat had stuck strands of her hair to her cheek. Her lips ached and seemed swollen to twice normal size.

He breathed hard also, mouth partly open. Then he touched his forehead to hers.

“You will kneel on the cushions, my lady, and not move. Head down with your ass in the air so I can see you, all of you, when I return.”

When he stepped away, she did fall to her hands and knees, feeling her breasts sway. She looked up, neck craning. Just the position, with him above, made her feel so little, so…his. It was odd, and wonderful.

“There.” He pointed. The rasp in his voice betrayed his own passion.

The need for him to take her so overwhelmed thought and logic that she scurried to the spot on the cushioned mat and knelt and put her forehead to the softness. Without his heated body on hers, she seemed lacking. She wanted his hardness smothering her again. Her pussy squeezed in. She needed
something
in there.

With her forearms next to her head, her hands clasped above, and her backside in the air, she waited. Coolness wafted along her slit, and her clit pulsed. Anticipation made her shiver. What would he do if she didn’t wait? She almost wanted to defy him just to find out. Would he spank her? Or something worse—something more painful? She shivered again, remembering the smack of his hand on her ass.

Chapter Fourteen

His footsteps told her he walked to the little armory, then doors opened, there came jingling, and doors closed. Within minutes, he returned, his feet thumping on the timber, then stepping softer and shifting the mat. Something heavy was put down and something else that jingled.

Casually, as if it were his right, he rested his hand between her legs. “You stayed. Good. Perhaps I won’t need to hit you so hard. Let’s see what you can take.”

Her breath hitched sharply, and she quivered.

“You like that?” He slid his fingers along, and she could tell from the glide how wet she must be. It was impossible not to clench down there.
Oh
. When a finger lay just there, with the tip at her entrance… She tensed.
If I wiggle…

His other hand pressed on the small of her back. “Don’t move. I can tell you want me to finger fuck you.” He played with her entrance some more, just not…quite…going in. She so wanted to say
pleeese
. “So willing? Hmm. I said that to scare you a little, my lady. I see scary arouses you. You like rough, you like ruthless. If you don’t, I expect you to say.”

She nodded, her hair making scratchy noises against the mat. One word echoed in her head.
Please
. That finger, moving on her still, oh my. But she wouldn’t speak. Silence amplified, made her
want
expand until it filled her up, made what he did so much more.

He rose, and she turned her head and saw that he too was naked. His erection stood out proud from his body. Seeing it made her imagine him thrusting into her. Arousal filled her, thick, excruciating. Her groin became the focus of her body.

Dankyo reached for a long wand that led up to a light, and adjusted the voltaic light so its blueness shone on her. She squinted at the glare.

“All lit up.” He paced toward her, long and slow—deliberate, like the approach of a beast. “You are everything I have wanted, ever since I discovered my need. And you wait so damn nicely.”