Mastered By Love (18 page)

Her forehead creased.
“What’s a shower?”

He smiled. “You’ll
see.”

She climbed gingerly off
the bed and followed him into the most luxuriously appointed
bathroom she’d ever seen. The floor and lower half of the walls
were tiled with beautiful gray and white marble, the upper walls
painted sky blue. There was an enormous tub that almost looked more
like a small swimming pool.

Tariza gazed at the tub with longing,
but Dario led her to a small enclosure instead, almost like a tiny
room within the larger bathroom. A pipe with a flaring nozzle on
the end extended from the glossy marble wall. Was this the
shower?

He turned some knobs and water shot
out of the nozzle, spraying down over the whole enclosure. It was
probably Galactic technology, forbidden on Argelia, but then what
should she expect from the Saturnians?

You have a locator chip.
That’s Galactic technology, too.

“
Stand under the water,” he
said, beginning to peel off his clothing.

Tariza walked under the deluge. The
water splashed over her head, her shoulders, ran down the sore
flesh of her back, washing away some of the violation she felt. The
heat drove the chill from her body and relaxed her
muscles.

Dario stepped into the
enclosure with her. He rubbed soap into his palms and lifted them
to her shoulders. “I’m going to wash you.”

She flinched away, her back
hitting the cold tile of the shower wall. “That isn’t
necessary.”

He clasped her shoulders
once again. “Shhh. I want to do this. I want to take care of
you.”

“
Why?”

“
Because.” He bent his head
and brushed his lips across hers. “You’re mine. It’s my duty and
privilege to care for you.”

She snorted, trying to hold
at bay the weird shivery feeling his words aroused in her. “Care
for me the same way you do your horse?”

He smiled and kissed her
again. “No. You’re much more important to me than any
horse.”

“
I don’t understand
you.”

“
I know.” His hands stroked
slowly down the length of her arms. “It gives me great pleasure to
touch you everywhere.”

He followed up by cupping
her breasts, spreading soap over the curves and up to her
collarbones. She trembled when his thumbs passed over her nipples,
but he didn’t linger there. He continued washing her in long
strokes across her back, down her thighs to her calves, over her
feet.

She stared down at him,
kneeling before her under the spray of the water. She’d dreamed of
a moment like this, with him on his knees, but in the dream she’d
been in charge. He might seem to serve her at the moment, but she
was not in charge of anything, least of all him.

Dario stood, reapplied soap to his
hands, and touched her lightly on her bruised ass. Tariza flinched
again.

“
Turn and let me see the
damage,” he said in a low voice.

She turned.

He sucked in a harsh
breath. “It’s worse than I realized.”

“
It hurt when you touched
it.”

“
Then I won’t touch it
again. You do need some ice, though. We’ll wash your hair and then
I’ll call for ice and food.”

“
What about you? Aren’t you
going to wash?”

“
That, too.” He lifted his
soapy hands to her wet hair.

His fingers felt delightful on her
scalp, the pleasure distracting her from the pain in her buttocks
and thighs. Yet he stopped all too soon to reapply soap. His hands
sped downward, caressing her inner thighs.

“
I missed a spot,” he
said.

“
He touched me there.” She
shrank away from Dario.

“
I know. Did he injure
you?”

She shook her head. “I’m
not sure.”

“
Let me look.”

“
Goddess, no.”

He cupped her face, tilting
her chin up so she had to look at him. “Tariza, let me
look.”

She swallowed. Took a deep
breath. “All right.”

“
All right,
what?”

“
Um. . .all right,
Master?”

“
That’s better.” He lowered
his head to hers and captured her mouth in a hot, wet
kiss.

Tariza melted against him. Her arms
came up and wrapped around his neck as she returned the kiss. She
had no self-control where he was concerned. All he had to do was
touch her, kiss her, and she was ready to spread her legs for him.
She ought to be ashamed of herself.

He pulled back. “Face the
light so I can see better.”

With a sigh, she obeyed. He dropped to
his knees as she opened her legs. Ever so gently, he spread the
folds of her pussy.

“
I don’t see anything.” He
traced along one fold with his forefinger. “Does that
hurt?”

“
N-no.” He did it again and
she gasped at the sudden pleasure. “It doesn’t hurt.”

“
Good.” Dario rubbed soapy
fingers all along the crevices of her sex. “You’re so beautiful
here.”

“
No, I’m not.”

“
Don’t argue with your
master.” He rinsed his hands, then her pussy. “You’re the most
beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

“
How many women’s pussies
have you examined?” An unexpected pang of jealousy hit her as soon
as she said the words. She didn’t want to think about him with
other females – which was simply ridiculous. She’d had plenty of
men in her own life; why should she be jealous of other women in
his?

“
I mean you’re beautiful
everywhere. Not just here.” He leaned in and kissed her between her
legs.

He was beautiful too, but
she couldn’t say it. She couldn’t stand here and tell her master –
her captor – how beautiful he was. She couldn’t tell him how much
his perfect lips enticed her, how she longed to run her hands over
his muscled chest or how much she liked to look at the way his
thick, black lashes framed those remarkable dark eyes.

And then it didn’t matter
because he was licking her and she couldn’t speak anyway. Her eyes
rolled up as he tongued her hungrily. She braced herself with her
hands on his shoulders, helplessly moaning, nails digging into his
perfect skin.

Climax crashed over her without
warning, leaving her limp and relaxed under the warm stream of
water. Dario stood, a pleased expression on his face. His cock
stood out from his body like a signpost, rigid and
eager.

Yet he turned away from her and began
to wash himself.

“
Aren’t you going to
...?”

“
No. You’re hurting too
badly.”

She frowned, watching him
as he scrubbed his body. He wasn’t going to take her because she
was hurt. That was ... unexpected. Incomprehensible. Why would he
care? It wouldn’t injure her to have sex, although it would
probably be uncomfortable to have any pressure on her rear
end.

He is a good
man.

The thought was as unwelcome as it was
shocking. There were no good men. Only men who were under various
levels of female control.

She rubbed her forehead. In
her heart, she quailed. This captivity was changing her, and she
didn’t like it. Goddess only knew where she’d end up or who she’d
be at the end of it. If it ever ended, which was
unlikely.

Already, she hardly recognized
herself.

Dario finished washing and shut off
the water. He snagged a towel from the rack on the wall outside the
shower and blotted her dry as carefully as if she were made of
glass. After wrapping another towel around her hair, he rubbed the
water off his own skin.

“
Time for food,” he said,
smiling.

He offered her a hand. She
took it, because if she didn’t he would only insist and she’d have
to hold hands with him anyway. The reason she clasped her fingers
around his was not because she enjoyed the feeling of their skin
touching, their hands entwined. If she’d had a choice, she wouldn’t
ever touch him again.

What a load of horse crap.
You know you’d do almost anything to touch him.

She ignored her inner
voice.

The bedroom had warmed while they were
bathing. A fire burned in the hearth and trays of food were laid
out on the table.

Dario lifted his brows.
“They got here already. I’ll just call for ice.” He went to the
wall and pulled a bell hung on an embroidered ribbon. “We’ll eat
while we wait for it.”

He rummaged in an armoire
and withdrew two long robes, tossing one at her. “Put that
on.”

The robe was made of red
wool, lined in matching silk, and all-enveloping. It looked nothing
like the skimpy slave costume she’d expected. She put it on. It was
a little long and dragged on the floor, but it felt
warm.

There was a protocol to eating. Tariza
waited while he pulled a chair out and laid a cushion on the floor.
She knelt on the cushion.

Dario gave her a
surprised-looking smile as he took his seat. “Very good. See? It’s
already getting easier.”

She nodded wordlessly. It was getting
easier to behave the way he wanted her to, as she learned the
rules. But in her heart, every concession to proper slave behavior
was like a self-inflicted wound. Tariza cast her gaze at the floor.
It was what was expected of her, but it also allowed her to avoid
looking at him.

Dario speared a bite of
meat on his fork and offered it to her. She accepted it, chewed
delicately. The rich juices of roasted lamb flowed down her throat.
It tasted better than anything she’d ever had in her
life.

A knock sounded at the
door. The servant who entered departed immediately to fill Dario’s
order for ice.

He continued to feed her meat,
vegetables, fresh bread, all from his own hand, his own plate. Her
wine came from his goblet. And he was generous with his offerings,
almost as if he were trying to fatten her up.

The food and wine filled
her belly and gave her a warm, safe feeling she hadn’t experienced
in a long time. It almost drove the memory of Grasos and his
punishment from her mind, at least for a while.

She sighed and leaned
against Dario’s leg. Although she couldn’t see his face, she sensed
his surprise. He laid his hand on the crown of her head, stroking
softly. She closed her eyes, trying to hold on to the odd sense of
contentment.

The servant returned with ice tied in
a large kitchen towel. He stood next to her and handed the ice to
Dario with a short bow before departing.

“
Have you had enough to
eat?” Dario said.

“
Yes. Thank
you.”

“
You’d better lie on the
bed so we can ice you, then.”

She rose to her feet and padded over
to the bed where she stretched out on her belly. Dario pulled up
her robe. He laid the bundle of ice on her bruised ass.

“
Ouch.”

“
It’ll help take the
swelling down.”

“
Believe it or not, I know
how to treat a bruise,” she said dryly.

“
Do you?”

“
I’ve iced plenty of them.
Or immersed in cold running water, like a stream. That works
too.”

“
It does.” He settled
cross-legged next to her on the bed. “How many of those bruises
were yours?”

“
About half.” She peered up
at him. “Falling off horses, sparring, a couple falls from
trees.”

“
You did all that,
huh?”

“
Yes.” Tariza made a face.
“Not very feminine.” Goddess, why had she said that? As if she
cared for his definition of femininity.

He gave her a faint smile.
“Feminine means something different in Concordia than it does
here.”

“
Yes. Exactly.”

“
It doesn’t bother me,
Tariza.” He brushed some hair from her eyes. “I’m trying to picture
you as a girl, though. Climbing trees and falling off horses. You
sound like me.”

She wet her lips. “I still
like climbing trees.”

“
Me too.”

They smiled at each other,
a silly besotted kind of smile that should have made her ashamed.
It didn’t. She just had a hard time holding his gaze after a
moment, as he seemed to look right into her soul.

Dario stretched his long
body out next to hers and slung an arm across her shoulders.
“Someday we’ll climb a tree together.”

For some reason, that
made her eyes sting. She blinked rapidly to keep the tears back.
She was turning into an utter crybaby. “I’d like that.”

***

Tariza drifted, half asleep, feeling
warmer and more secure than she could remember. She brought a hand
up and found Dario wrapped around her from behind, his belly
pressed to her back, one heavy arm pinning her to his body. A hairy
male leg had insinuated itself between hers.

She wriggled carefully out of his
grasp and turned over to look at him. He was still asleep, his lips
slightly parted, black hair tousled over his forehead. Her fingers
suddenly tingled with the urge to run them through that hair. Would
it awaken him?