Mastered By Love (14 page)

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.

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.

“
It’s going to be all
right, little one,” he said.

He was deluding himself, of
course, yet she didn’t bother correcting him. He wouldn’t believe
her if she told him the truth – that it would never be all right.
There was nothing in the universe that was all right for her and
never would be again.

You’re just feeling sorry
for yourself. Stop it.

People lived with slavery.
They lived with even worse things. Some of them, the strong ones,
escaped. Or if they couldn’t manage to escape, then they died
trying.

She wasn’t finished. She
didn’t have to placidly accept her situation, as if she were a tame
cow and not a woman. She would escape. When Dario – Saturnios –
fell asleep, she’d walk out into the snowy night and if it killed
her she would still be satisfied, because she would die free and on
her own terms.

Tariza dried her eyes on
her sleeves. Hesitantly, she peered up at Saturnios. His dark eyes
were full of concern and something else she couldn’t identify.
Maybe it was sorrow, or tenderness. She didn’t want either from
him.

“
Someday, you’ll be happy,”
he said. “You’ll adjust.”

She simply looked at him.

“
Once you learn the rules,
I won’t have to punish you.” He pushed a stray strand of hair from
her eyes. “I’d like to mate with you, Tariza. Have children with
you.”

Tariza blinked. He wanted to make her
pregnant? To make her the mother of his children? Her womb gave an
atavistic throb of enthusiasm at the same time as she mentally
recoiled from the idea.

She’d planned to have
children someday, of course, with a carefully selected male slave.
Children for the Concordia dynasty. Not little boy tyrants and
little girl slaves for Saturnios.

Dario was watching her
face, studying her with a peculiar mix of anticipation and
bashfulness. He probably expected her to jump up and cheer at the
news. She cast around for something to say that wouldn’t alert him
to her plan to leave.

“
You will make beautiful
children,” she finally offered.

He smiled. “You also. Our
children, Tariza. They will be exceptional.”

“
Yes. Um, yes, they will.”
Goddess, she hoped he hadn’t already made her conceive. She wasn’t
in her fertile time, however, so it was unlikely.

His smile turned into a
cocky grin. “We’ll unite Saturnios and Concordia.”

Tariza turned her face away. Did he
really expect her to celebrate with him?

Her legs were growing cold, exposed to
the air as they were. She reached down and pulled her skirts over
her bare skin. How could she raise a daughter in the Saturnian
world? How could she allow a child of hers to be enslaved, used,
kept prisoner by the men around her? She could hardly bear to think
about it.

Dario’s fingers brushed
along her cheekbone. “This disturbs you.”

“
How perceptive you
are.”

“
It’s considered a great
honor to be chosen for childbearing. Especially by a man of the
royal house.” There was, oddly, no resentment in his tone, only a
kind of wondering, as if he were trying to understand her
position.

“
My daughters would be
slaves,” she said quietly.

“
They wouldn’t know
anything different. They’d be happy, I assure you.”

“
How would you know that,
Saturnios? Do slaves ever tell you the truth? Especially a truth
you men would find uncomfortable, maybe even insulting? You don’t
know what you’re talking about.”

“
You tell me the
truth.”

She turned her head to look
at him. “That’s because I wasn’t raised here. I’m not beaten down
by a lifetime of hearing how inferior I am.”

“
We don’t consider women
inferior.” He seemed perfectly serious.

She snorted.
“Please.”

“
They simply have a
different role in life than men do. Are men considered inferior in
Concordia?”

“
Yes.
Because they are.”

***

Dario slept, oblivious to
the world. But Tariza was awake and she couldn’t waste the chance
to run.

She also couldn’t find her
extra layers – the petticoat, skirt and bodice they’d given her to
wear. Paolo must have done something with them while she slept. The
only garments she saw in the tent were the thin cotton undergown,
socks and boots. And a coat.

She wouldn’t get far
dressed like that. It was too cold and she didn’t know the country.
But if she stayed here, there would only be more of the same – more
spankings, more humiliation. And the farther they traveled into
Saturnian territory, the less likely she’d be able to get
away.

Now was the best time. Maybe the only
time. It was worth the risk to be free.

She threw on the gown, coat
and boots, and wrapped a muffler around her head and neck. There
weren’t any gloves. She’d simply have to keep her hands in her
pockets as much as possible.

Tariza paused at the tent
flap to glance back at Dario in the bed. In the darkness, she
couldn’t see more than the general bulk of his frame. What did he
look like asleep? His lashes would make thick black fans against
his golden skin, those luscious lips of his would be parted and
–

By the Goddess, what tripe. Who cared
what he looked like sleeping?

She forced herself to turn around and
leave the tent, remembering to tie the flap closed before she left.
Dario Saturnios was a beautiful man and he roused her as no other
man ever had, but the honor of Concordia demanded she go. Even if
the going killed her.

Outside, snow still fell thickly. The
accumulation came halfway up her calves already, almost to the tops
of her boots. A little moonlight seeped through the clouds and
snow, just enough to let her make out the shapes of the tents and
the darker circle of sheltering scrub.

Tariza made for the trees,
such as they were. She was leaving an obvious trail, but that
couldn’t be helped. With luck, they wouldn’t discover her gone
until sunrise at least. By then, she’d be long gone or dead. And
the relentless snow might just cover her tracks for her.

A hundred paces or so into the trees,
the ground dropped sharply down on one side and climbed on the
other. She had no stars by which to navigate and no way to know
which way to turn, so she went down. It was easier and would give
her a better head start.

The hem of her undergown
trailed in the snow, gathering a coating of the icy white, while
frigid winter air blew up under her skirt. She wouldn’t need much
of a head start in this weather before honor would be
satisfied.

At the bottom of the hill,
something dark glimmered in the snow ahead of her. She turned to
avoid it. Could be water, something she didn’t want to fall in
regardless of her fatalistic embrace of death. No reason to hurry
things along that much.

Tariza skirted the little pool or
whatever it was, her steps careful and slow on the stony ground.
But the rocks here were slick with ice and her feet slid out from
under her, dumping her in the glacial water.

She landed on her hands and knees in
the pool, soaking herself from neck to toes. Her breath froze in
her throat at the shock and pain of it. Tariza floundered in the
water, splashing, struggling to get her feet beneath her
again.

The intense cold made her
clumsy. She crawled out, the snow painful on her bare palms. Her
movements were so slow, as if she were still under water. She
wasn’t even shivering, couldn’t feel the cold anymore except on her
hands. But she was tired.

Move. It was vital to keep moving. But
she was so tired.

A moment’s rest and then
she’d pick herself up and keep moving. Her body sagged face down
into the snow. An odd sense of warmth and peace came over her and
she relaxed. Distantly, she wondered if she was dying and she
smiled.

Honor is
satisfied.

***

Dario woke
up with icy air biting his nose. Beneath the
blankets, he was warm and relaxed, in defiance of the snowy
mountain night. All he needed now was a soft, warm slave in his
arms. He reached out to draw Tariza into his embrace. His hand met
nothing but empty bed.

He bolted straight up on the cot. She
was gone. He could see nothing in the chill darkness, so he fumbled
on the floor until he found his lamp and flint. The lighted lamp
showed that she was in fact gone.

“
Goddamn little
Concordian,” he muttered. “What the hell is she
thinking?”

It was too cold out there
for her. She didn’t know these mountains, although she must
understand mountain lore, being from Concordia. Still, only a fool
would venture out alone on a night like this ... and Tariza was no
fool.

At one time, he would have
thought any woman silly and empty-headed. In the short time he’d
known her, Tariza had given him a glimpse into her mind and it was
clear she was just as capable of rational thought as any man he’d
ever known. So why would she do something so utterly
stupid?

She wants to
die.

He paused in pulling on his
trousers. Surely it wasn’t true. She was having trouble adjusting,
yes, but that was only natural. He’d given her orgasms, made sure
she found as much pleasure in his body as he did in hers. He’d
treated her gently, looked after her well-being, even removed the
harness out of concern for her emotional state.