Part 16 (2/2)

”You know, when you get worried, sometimes you still drop that screen between our minds, the one that keeps your thoughts and gremlins down to a dull roar, like a dinner crowd at a nice restaurant.” Gideon sat down on the ottoman. He'd been sitting there earlier so she could use charcoal to embellish his third mark. She'd made the scarlet teardrops stand out more dramatically. He seemed surprised the pants gave easily, since they looked so tight, but she knew the fabric combination gave him almost full flexibility.

”Yes. I'm still working on that.”

”Hmm.” Gideon slid off the ottoman, dropped to one knee before her, making her throat thicken. It put his head on a level just above her waist, at her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and while his gaze flickered there, it was to her face he went.

”You know, a lady used to give a knight a favor, telling him that whatever he did, it was in her honor. I think this is kind of similar, in a way. Don't you?” His gaze moved to the collar in her hands.

”Does it help you to think of it that way?”

”Maybe. Am I right?”

”It's a part of it. But you're wrong. Not about that, but about your brother being the only knight in the family.” It gave her poignant pleasure to touch his hair, brush a fallen lock back over his brow. ”He might be Sir Galahad, but I think you're gruff Sir Kay. No less n.o.ble or brave, merely rough at the edges.”

He seemed charmingly taken aback by that, but she looked down at the object in her hand. ”Gideon, I don't really think in terms of boy-friends, or lovers. I've never wanted a husband. That's not who I am. When you walked into Atlantis, I looked at every inch of your powerful body, the wariness in your eyes, the danger you carry with you, the pain and n.o.bility, the intelligence and resourcefulness. You know what I thought?”

She knew he was capable of delivering a smarta.s.s comment at the most inappropriate times, but this time he didn't. He waited for her to answer her own question, gazing up at her with those serious blue eyes.

”That's my my slave. Mine.” slave. Mine.”

His mind tumbled that over, but didn't outright reject it. ”So that's what this collar says. No matter what happens tonight, you're mine. They won't take that away from me, from us. Even though they might have something to prove, you still belong to me. Your pleasure is my property. I won't see it abused.” She gripped the collar, and felt the power of it vibrate up her fingertips. ”I asked you to trust me, before I became this. Will you trust me to be your Mistress tonight, Gideon? Everything after that, we'll negotiate. Vampire or not, I go in there as a Mistress. Will you go in as my slave?”

”Yes.” Seeing and feeling the core of her resolve, so strong it rippled over his skin like erotic heat, Gideon spoke from his heart. ”Anwyn or Mistress, they're the same to me. I can't claim to understand what I want or need most days, but the answer to that one is clear enough in my head. I'm yours. Whenever you need me, however you need me.”

Within limits. But she knew his limits, didn't she? When she put the collar on his throat, sliding the buckle into place, her fingers lingering, Gideon felt the emotion well up inside her. It was like a divine energy, a strong magic that held him still beneath her hands, as if he was part of a sacred ritual in truth. Fleetingly, he wondered if this might be what marriage felt like, that commitment to forever. What he might have felt sooner, if they'd had more time to do the third marking the way he'd heard it was supposed to be done. But she knew his limits, didn't she? When she put the collar on his throat, sliding the buckle into place, her fingers lingering, Gideon felt the emotion well up inside her. It was like a divine energy, a strong magic that held him still beneath her hands, as if he was part of a sacred ritual in truth. Fleetingly, he wondered if this might be what marriage felt like, that commitment to forever. What he might have felt sooner, if they'd had more time to do the third marking the way he'd heard it was supposed to be done.

The collar was definitely for a male slave, a wide three-inch strap with p.r.o.ngs worked into it so there was a warning p.r.i.c.k of steel all the way around the top and bottom edges. Two long lengths of chain ran from the front steel loop, and fastened to two matching cuffs she tightened over his wrists. She closed her hand on those two lengths of chain where they met at that collar loop and followed them down, drawing his hands together until they rested on his knee and he felt the pull against his throat. Her gaze was molten, a blue-green sea under a hot sun, so that his skin burned beneath it. Latex didn't have as much give as it first seemed, for his c.o.c.k swelled painfully, pus.h.i.+ng its limits. His body responded to that collar in a primal way, and he couldn't control it. The collar was the sign of her owners.h.i.+p, his fealty to her. Whom he served.

His own fervency made him uncomfortable. Better able to handle his physical reaction than his incomprehensible emotional one, he let his gaze pa.s.s over her. She'd prepared herself as well. She'd put a sleek corset over a black bodysuit. There was a brace of topaz at her throat, one additional sparkling pin to dress her hair. A loose braided belt, studded with silver metal pieces, embellished the corset, low on her hips. Thigh-high boots with her trademark stiletto heels inspired a sudden desire to put his mouth on them, a peculiar feeling he hadn't experienced before.

”My ankle, Gideon,” she said softly. ”The material is very soft. I'll feel your mouth through it.”

He bent, not caring about the extreme subservient position as he brought his lips to the creased ankle of those s.e.xy-as-h.e.l.l boots encasing s.e.xy-as-h.e.l.l legs. She s.h.i.+fted, putting the other boot on the curve of his bare back, holding him in the clamsh.e.l.l position as she adjusted a lacing, the point of the heel digging into his flesh. Catching his hair, she brought his head up, his mouth mere inches from her p.u.s.s.y. His nostrils flared so he could almost taste the scent through the thin fabric, saliva gathering on his tongue. ”Smell that arousal? That's all for you, Gideon. Be good tonight and you might get some of that.”

”I expect I might get more if I'm bad.” He tossed his head back against her hold, gave her a s.h.i.+t-eating grin. She bared her fangs at him.

”I'll be happy to beat him if you'd like to watch,” Daegan offered, now standing in the doorway to his room.

Before they could respond to that, there was a knock on the door and an envelope slid beneath it. Glancing at Anwyn, Daegan retrieved it, looked at the addressee and extended it to her. ”Apparently the Council has before-dinner instructions for you.”

Anwyn took it, turned it over in her hands and opened it. From where he now stood, Gideon could see only several lines of writing, but her mouth tightened in a hard line, matched by a sharp, vicious anger that electrified her mind and sent her shadows stirring with blood-thirsty eagerness. Daegan stepped closer and Gideon became instantly more alert. ”What is it, Anwyn?”

”d.a.m.n it.” She closed her eyes, shook her head, fighting for calm. She handed it to Daegan. As he read it, his brow creased.

”They want me to dress in women's underwear,” Gideon guessed, hoping they'd tell him before he had to s.n.a.t.c.h it from them or pluck it out of Anwyn's head.

”Nothing so dire,” the vampire said, though there was a spark of angry fire in his gaze as he glanced at him. ”They want Anwyn to mark you in some way before we arrive. Something that will have some pain and blood a.s.sociated with it, so they can see that you stood for it.”

”Why not once we get there?” she asked. ”Wouldn't they want to see me do it?”

”This is just an appetizer, Anwyn,” Daegan said quietly.

Her expression hardened. ”b.a.s.t.a.r.ds,” she said with quiet viciousness. ”Gideon-”

”Your belt,” Gideon nodded to it, meeting her gaze. ”It's a whip, isn't it? It'll do as well as anything. They like floggings. Jacob told me.”

When she said nothing, her eyes stormy, he c.o.c.ked his head. ”You get aroused at the thought of flogging me. You like pain, Mistress.”

”Just because I can't keep you out of my head when I get upset is no reason to take advantage of it,” she snapped. ”And I like pain if it takes the submissive in the proper direction. You don't do it just to torture a person.”

”I don't suspect you will be.” Conscious of Daegan's regard, trying not to think about the indecent fit of his clothes, Gideon took a step forward. Deliberately, he let his gaze wander over her, just a shade on the insolent side. ”The thought of it makes you hot. You're already creaming the nonexistent thong you're wearing under those f.u.c.k-me pants.”

She narrowed her gaze. ”You think baiting me will make me accept this?”

”That's my hope.” He forced heat and challenge into his expression. Whether it was the overabundance of nerves and emotion in the room, or anger, it wasn't really feigned. He took another step, deliberately using his greater height and weight to intimidate her. ”One of the things you like about me is that I'm tough to tame. That we could go three hundred years together and I'd never be your pet.”

Anwyn unclipped the whip, let it slither off her hips in a practiced sensual move that made Gideon's c.o.c.k harden even further. Was it possible for a d.i.c.k to suffocate? Jesus, it was painful. And pleasurable at once. He was glad he hadn't had to walk more than a couple of steps.

”Turn around,” she ordered. ”Put your hands on your head, fingers laced. You'll stand without a wall. If you fall to a knee, I'll make it worse, twice the number of strikes.”

”You need to mark him with your blood, Anwyn,” Daegan interjected, his voice neutral. ”Otherwise the strikes will heal. They want whatever you do to leave a permanent scar.”

That was bad enough, but when Gideon obeyed her, turning away, Anwyn's gaze fell on those old lash marks, the ones that had been left by one of the vampires who'd captured him. The vamp had tortured him until he bit into the wood of the beam he'd been restrained against and his nose had bled. She knew, because she'd seen the images when he came out of nightmares.

The thoughts were too strong to mask from her servant. His voice came into her head, steady. When you stripe me, they'll be gone. The scars will belong to you, like the rest of me. When you stripe me, they'll be gone. The scars will belong to you, like the rest of me.

Overcome, she shot a glance back at Daegan, her gaze full of helpless fury. He held her gaze, understanding but implacable. It proves your strength to them. And don't you dare ask his permission to do it. You know the kind of Mistress you are. It proves your strength to them. And don't you dare ask his permission to do it. You know the kind of Mistress you are.

That they need me to be? Her lip curled. Her lip curled.

No. That he needs you to be. He's an untamed tiger, cher cher. You know it. No matter your distaste, you know he's responding to this. He requires a firm hand to balance the gentle. Break him down to build him up. You've done it before.

No one mattered this much before.

So do it better than you've ever done it before.

Anwyn tossed her head in defiant answer, but turned her burning gaze back to Gideon. G.o.d, she wanted to hate herself for it, but she felt it as he'd known she would, the surge of that pleasurable power, looking at him waiting for her, the skintight outline of his a.s.s the pants provided, every thigh muscle delineated.

Open the pants so they'll drop lower on his hips. I don't want him to take his hands from his head.

Giving orders to me, cher cher?

She closed her eyes at that silky, dangerous tone. I'm angry. What if I am? I'm angry. What if I am?

There are always consequences.

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