Mastered By Love Page 9

  She moaned. She couldn’t stop the sound from escaping her, just as she couldn’t stop her body from responding with wild lust to his every touch.

  “You are mine,” he said with soft emphasis. “You are mine and you will obey me.”

  “You won’t break me, Saturnios.” Her voice sounded confident, but inside she wasn’t so sure.

  “That’s Master to you. Say it.”

  “Saturnios.”

  He bit harder, until it hurt. “Master.”

  “Saturnios.”

  This time his bite was hard enough to draw a cry from her throat. Damn him.

  She closed her eyes, feeling that pit beneath her feet grow deeper and darker. “Master,” she whispered.

  “I’ll do whatever I have to do in order to make you behave,” he said. “Whatever it takes to make you safe.”

  “Does it please you to lie to yourself?”

  “Your disobedience could cost you your life. And I’m not going to let you die.”

  “I’m touched.”

  He was still inside her; he still surrounded her, his warm weight pressing her into the bed.

  “I thought we’d made better progress.” He bumped his hips into hers. “Guess I was wrong. So we’re going to try this another way. From now on, everything you need or want will come from my hand. Everything. And, Tariza, you’ll have to please me in order to receive. Every bite you take, every garment you wear will be earned.”

  “How?” She sounded choked.

  “I’ll put you through your paces. You’ll perform, either for me or another man.”

  “I really do hate you.”

  He laughed softly as he withdrew from her body. “Your first lesson is to get a cloth and clean up both of us.” He slapped her bare ass, not in a punishing way but almost affectionately. “Go on, now.”

  She turned her head to glare at him.

  Saturnios raised a single black eyebrow. “Ready for another spanking so soon?” The heat in his gaze suggested he’d enjoy giving it to her.

  She didn’t want another spanking at all, ever. If he gave her one now, she’d probably break down and cry, doubly humiliating herself.

  Tariza got off the bed, her mouth set in a straight line. “No, milord.”

  “I think we’ll stay with Master for now.”

  She heaved a sigh. “No, Master.”

  “That’s better. Now get that cloth.”

  “Yes, Master.” She glanced around the crowded tent. “I don’t know where to look.”

  “Try that one.” He pointed to a small and battered trunk with faded red leather straps.

  She opened it. Inside were stacks of towels, an extra tunic the small wooden box that contained his soap, combs, brushes, the riding crop ...

  Tariza ignored the last item. She took a cloth and closed the trunk and turned around. At the last minute, she remembered not to look at him unless given permission.

  “What about water?”

  “Proper form of address, slave,” he said in a deceptively quiet voice that promised retribution if she failed to obey.

  She swallowed. “What about water, Master?”

  “Get some out of my flask.” He slid the container of water off his belt and held it out to her.

  “Thank you. Master.”

  Tariza opened the bottle and dribbled some of the frigid water onto the cloth. Dario stretched out on his back, trousers still unfastened. She bent to clean him with the icy cloth. Served him right if it was too cold.

  He didn’t seem to mind the temperature at all, damn him. Silently she swabbed him.

  “Will that be all, Master?”

  “Now do yourself.” He folded his arms and stared at her as if waiting for the show to begin. A frown crossed his face. “You’re looking at me without permission.”

  Tariza ducked her head. “I’m sorry, Master.”

  “Better.” He sounded like he was smiling. Saturnios reached out and stroked her hand. “Wash yourself, slave.”

  Better to get it over with. She set her foot on the edge of the bed and hiked up her skirt all the way to her waist. The cloth was so cold she sucked in a shocked breath when it touched her flesh. Saturnios’s body seemingly hadn’t warmed it at all.

  “Take more water if you need it,” he said.

  “It’s fine, Master.” That hated word was becoming easier to say. Was that a good thing or bad? “What should I do with the dirty cloth, Master? Do you have a bag for soiled clothing?”

  “Paolo will take care of it. You can set it on top of the chest.”

  She obeyed without speaking. Her skirt fell back to her ankles, giving her a semblance of warmth again. Tariza turned back toward the bed and Saturnios held out his arms to her.

  “Come here. Lay with me.”

  Her heart pinched. She didn’t want to lay with him. It was too painful, too confusing, too much pleasure mixed with humiliation; yet she couldn’t refuse without punishment.

  “Yes, Master,” she muttered, and arranged her body next to him without grace or good humor.

  He wrapped his arms around her, tucking her head against his shoulder and pulling his scratchy field blanket over both of them. “We’ll keep each other warm at night.”

  Since he didn’t seem to need or expect a reply, she said nothing.

  “They’ll bring us dinner soon,” he said.

  “I thought I was supposed to help cook, Master.”

  “You were. But for now you’ll stay with me.”

  “I know nothing about cooking.”

  “I’m not surprised.”

  “You know, it is possible to be womanly without being a cook or an embroiderer, Master,” she said hotly.

  “I never said otherwise.”

  “You implied it.”

  “Did I?” He was laughing at her ... without actually laughing. She could hear it in his voice.

  “Yes. You did.”

  “There’s no need to be defensive, Tariza. I know you grew up in an unnatural culture. It’s not your fault you failed to learn basic feminine skills.”

  She tried to pull away from him, but his grip was too firm. “Unnatural?”

  “You’re leaving out the proper address again.”

  “And you’re deliberately needling me. Master.”

  “Maybe you’re simply easy to annoy, slave. Are you hungry?”

  His rapid change of subject made her blink. “Um ... no, Master.” Now that he’d drawn her attention to her stomach, however, she noticed how empty she was. “Wait, yes. I suppose I am.”

  “I thought so. That partly accounts for your crankiness this afternoon.”

  “We didn’t stop for lunch.”

  “No, we didn’t.”

  She took a peek at his face. He had a secret smile, as if something amused him but he didn’t want to tell her about it. Laughing at her again?

  Saturnios peeled back the covers and sat up on the bed just as the tent flap pulled back and Paolo’s head appeared in the gap. His breath frosted in thick white clouds.

  “Dinner, milord.”

  “Excellent. Bring it in.”

  The squire set up the meal on top of the largest trunk, in lieu of a table. There wasn’t much scent from the food, which was probably cold in spite of Lola’s efforts to cook a hot meal. Lola was a fool.

  Paolo departed with a curious and lustful glance at Tariza.

  “Take off your clothes,” Dario said.

  “It’s cold in here.”

  He regarded her with a mixture of amusement and disappointment evident on his face. “You’re right. It is cold. Very well, you can keep your clothing.”

  “Thank you, Master.” She couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of her voice.

  “Kneel next to the trunk, at the foot of the bed.”

  Tariza worked her jaw. She didn’t want to follow that order. But he was her master, in truth. In Saturnios, he could do anything to her and his actions would be upheld by every other man in the country and probably most of the
women as well. She could continue to fight him or she could give in and maybe survive.

  I’d rather fight.

  Despite that thought, she turned and went to the foot of the bed, where she knelt.

  Saturnios took a seat on the foot of the camp bed. He surveyed the food while Tariza’s stomach growled painfully.

  “You’ll have to earn every bite, remember?” he said.

  How could I forget something like that? She merely nodded.

  Saturnios rucked up his tunic to expose his still unfastened trousers. He then speared a bite of the meat on his plate and chewed thoughtfully.

  “If you would like some meat, you will lick me.”

  Her eyes widened. “What?”

  “You heard me.” He gestured toward his unfastened trousers. “Well, go ahead and get started. Unless you’d like to go hungry tonight.”

  Her stomach growled again, even more loudly and painfully than before. She was beginning to feel lightheaded. Swallowing hard, Tariza leaned over him and reached into his clothing to draw out his cock. It was thick and long again. The conversation – or maybe anticipation of her touch – had already excited him.

  She bent her head and gave his cock a swipe of her tongue.

  “Again,” he said.

  With a deep breath for patience, she repeated the action.

  “Very good.” He forked up another bite of meat and extended the utensil to her mouth. Tariza reached for the fork.

  “No. Take it directly from my hand. You remember how.”

  She just managed to avoid rolling her eyes at him. Opening her mouth, she accepted the meat.

  “Good girl.”

  For the second bite, she had to lick him again. He tasted musky, a bit salty, and very male, his flesh smooth and hot beneath her lips.

  Dario rewarded her with a choice bite of meat, some hot and juicy fat still clinging to it. “Here you are.”

  The lightheadedness she’d experienced began to recede.

  Saturnios smiled at her. “Feeling better?”

  Tariza nodded.

  “Good. Let’s continue.”

  He fed her in that manner for the entire meal, punctuating bites of food with attention to his cock, remaining hard and ready the whole time. She grew full, her satisfied stomach making the rest of her warm and logy. Relaxed, when she ought never to relax in the company of this man.

  “Now for dessert,” he said.

  “Dessert, Master?”

  “Yes. You’re dessert. Suck me until I come in your mouth. I want you to drink down every drop, do you understand?”

  She looked at him, knowing it was forbidden. “I-I don’t think I can. Please don’t make me do that. I’m afraid I’ll vomit.”

  “You won’t vomit, Tariza.” He stroked her head. “It’ll be all right. Try it and find out.”

  Goddess, he almost sounded kind.

  “Go ahead, now. Suck me off.”

  She closed her eyes. She could do this, had to do it. Didn’t she?

  It’s better than another spanking.

  With her hand, she lifted his cock to her mouth and licked the throbbing head.

  He sucked in a breath. “That’s it. Take it all the way in your mouth.”

  Women didn’t do this in Concordia. A woman only sucked a man to tease him, never allowing him to ejaculate down her throat. She wasn’t sure how it was done, but to please him she opened her mouth wide and took him in as far as she could.

  The head of his cock hit the back of her mouth and she gagged a little.

  “Mmm,” he moaned. “That’s good. Deep like that.”

  It was too uncomfortable. She adjusted the angle of her head and neck, giving herself a straighter path to accommodate his cock. This time it went deep without choking her.

  Tariza wrapped her lips over her teeth and pulled back, sucking. A deep groan issued from his throat. She could taste his musk, feel it all the way in the back of her mouth.

  As she worked him in and out of her mouth, the friction against her lips and tongue became strangely pleasurable. She hadn’t expected that – for this act to feel good to her, too. Shouldn’t she feel used, put upon, degraded? Yet the sound of his moans and harsh pants, the way he trembled beneath her, gave her an odd sense of power.

  When he arched his back with a jerk and shouted hoarsely, when jets of hot salty come filled her mouth, she almost smiled in triumph. Except she was too busy swallowing.

  The texture was not to her taste. But the experience as a whole was surprisingly ... good. She’d done that to him, made him come. And she could do it again.

  His hand stroked her hair. “Incredible. You have a natural talent.”

  She glanced up at him. Again, without permission. He didn’t seem to mind, though. He smiled at her, his eyes soft.

  “Now for your dessert.” He reached down and lifted her onto the bed with him.

  “Dessert?”

  Lie down and spread your legs for me.”

  But he’d already –

  Tariza stretched out on the bed, unresisting as he spread her legs and pulled her skirt up to reveal her pussy. Saturnios bent his head to her sex and took a deep breath. Her face burned. How could he?

  “You smell delectable,” he growled.

  His thumbs spread her open. He gave her a delicate stroke, wet and warm and perfect. She whimpered.

  Saturnios teased her gently, mercilessly with lips and tongue, opening up layers upon layers of delight she’d never really known existed. Why couldn’t the slaves in Concordia affect her this way? It wasn’t right, but at the moment she didn’t care. She was lost in him.

  Something – his finger? – probed at her anus. Tariza clenched in fear.

  “Shh,” he murmured against her pussy. “Just relax for me. Just relax.”

  He resumed licking her, his finger burrowing into her ass, opening her where she’d never been open before. This, too, was something never done in Concordia. No woman would allow a man to invade her in this way.

  Pleasure and shame mingled in her heart. Yet she didn’t want him to stop. The forbidden touch, the weird mix of discomfort and ecstasy made her squirm and moan with excitement. Then he stopped, leaving her gasping and frustrated.

  “Would my slave like to come?”

  What? Yes, of course she wanted to come. “I – yes. I want –”

  “Yes, what, slave?”

  What did he want? What ... oh, that. “Yes, Master.”

  He gave her a luxurious swipe of his tongue. “Beg me for it.”

  There was some reason she shouldn’t beg, but she couldn’t remember it. “Please.”

  “More.” He teased her clit, making her gasp again.

  “Oh! Please let me come, Master. Please.”

  Dario gave a low, dark laugh. “What lovely begging, slave. I’ve decided to grant your request.”

  He focused the efforts of his mouth on her clit. One big hand palmed her breast, tweaked her nipple so sharply it almost hurt. Climax rushed over her. She gasped and cried at the overwhelming flood of sensation.

  “Tell me, slave. To whom does this sweet, wet pussy belong?” Before she could answer, the forefinger of his other hand entered her cunt. Now he had two fingers inside her, in two different holes. She’d never felt so invaded, so dominated. Her eyes went unbearably wide and her mouth fell open in a gasp.

  “Tell me who owns this pussy, or I’ll stop.”

  No! He couldn’t stop. But he knew it was her pussy ... why was he asking that question?

  “It’s mine,” she said, bumping her pelvis against his hand.

  “Wrong answer.” He withdrew his hand.

  “No! Don’t stop, please.”

  “Who owns you?”

  Tariza bit her lip. “You do,” she said sullenly.

  “That’s right. I own you and every part of you. Now, who owns this pussy?” He slid his finger inside her again.

  “Y-you, Master.”

  “That’s right,” he purred. “Mine.
Only mine.”

  He pushed against the bundle of nerves at the front of her sheath, still working his other finger in her ass. Ruthless delight pounded through her, over and over in a cascade of orgasms. Tariza howled.

  Her fingers tore at the blankets on the bed. Her voice broke as she screamed against the pleasure and her body broke, melted, fell apart, flooding his hands and the bed with hot liquid as she sobbed.

  “God, Tariza,” he said reverently. “You amaze me.” Tenderly he withdrew his hands. “You’re a good girl when you come for me.”

  She lay there shuddering, gazing into his eyes yet unable to form a coherent thought. The wetness on the coverlet finally penetrated her awareness and she blushed.

  “I wet the bed.”

  “You ejaculated.”

  Tariza frowned. “Women don’t ejaculate.”

  Dario – Saturnios – smiled at her as he hitched his body up beside hers. “They do, just not very often.”

  “I don’t – I’ve never felt anything like that.”

  He kissed her softly on the lips. “I need to wash my hands, but I want to hold you.”

  “You’re the master.”

  Saturnios nestled against her, burying his face against her hair. “I’m so glad I found you.”

  They had found each other, hadn’t they? But he’d taken her, stolen her, changed her. She didn’t know what she thought about it. If only she didn’t have to think at all. Her eyes began to sting uncontrollably.

  Chapter 9

  He’d beaten her, spanked her like a child. Like a slave. And still she’d been aroused by him. Not just aroused ... he’d brought her to the heights twice in a row. Pride, training, determination – none of it was any good in the face of the overwhelming desire she felt for him. Dario Saturnios, her mortal enemy.

  Her sudden tears turned into real sobs, great shaking cries of despair, as he pulled her tightly against him, and she didn’t bother to resist. Once again, what would be the point? There was nowhere to go.

  She was soaking his jacket with her tears. Dario’s hands stroked her back and ruffled her hair and the slow, warm touch soothed her and she allowed it. She allowed her enemy to comfort her. She let his low-voiced murmurings calm her, even though deep inside she continued to fall apart.