Marked for Surrender [Marked 4]

by Jennifer Leeland

  No one knew she'd been attacked. Her two prisoners weren't even mentioned.

  Did this man, Pavlik, really have that much power?

  She increased her search parameters, including the council and Pavlik.

  If the other Mistresses had issues with the new state of affairs within the Nyral council, they weren't talking about it. Andia checked the vid streams, searching for anything that would shed light on what the hell was going on.

  Almost by accident, she tripped over a name. Ivanovitch. Shit. She remembered him.

  He'd been one of her first prisoners; his crime had been cooperating with the Blueshift Brotherhood. The man had definitely been guilty of something, though Andia had never been sure whether it was the charges he'd been convicted of.

  She set a blind snooper program to follow the trail, then clicked away. Tomorrow morning she'd check it and find out why someone wanted her dead.

  Cautiously she accessed her own e-mail, checking it from a back door Mya had insisted she create. Within one of the e-mails was an embedded code, something she was used to seeing from the council for highly confidential files.

  Pinging her signal all over the planet to cover her tracks, Andia accessed the file. It was a private vid message from Pavlik.

  "This message is for Mistress Andia. I'm sure you're wondering what this is all about.” The vid showed a handsome man in his forties, gray hair at his temples and dark, smooth skin, dark eyes. He resembled some of the photos she'd seen of Old Earth caliphs in the country of India. The bone structure was similar and was exotic. Andia could understand his appeal to women. He exuded command, sexual prowess, and confidence even on video.

  "I'm afraid some of your colleagues have been a bit...extreme. Please come to the council chambers, and we will discuss it calmly like adults. We will, of course, keep your defiance of council protocol a secret. Your prisoners are good at convincing others with outlandish stories. I hope you will come to your senses and bring them in.” He smiled, a warm inclusive expression that could melt the coldest heart. “We hope you can spend Christmas at home, in Muan."

  Christmas.

  Numb, Andia stumbled to her feet and back up the stairs. Everything that had happened in the last forty-eight hours had cemented something within Andia. She was alone. No family. Nothing.

  Her hand shook when she opened the door to the main living quarters of Mya's cabin. Why was she surprised the two men were still there? Part of her had expected them to run, leave while they could.

  They stood close together, clearly arguing, yet the sexual tension in the room was so thick she could smell it. Rather than address it, she crossed the room to the decorated tree in the far left corner of the room.

  Mya's penchant for ancient traditions had been a pleasure to enjoy for Andia. The tree, artificial but lifelike, exuded the same scent a live tree would. The lights were globe lights but looked like the string lights used on Old Earth.

  Under the tree was one gift wrapped in gold foil with her name on it.

  With trembling hands, she reached down and picked up the box. She tightened her fingers on the gift. It was a tradition they had started eight years ago here in this room. Gift giving. Her gift to Mya was still in her room at Muan, an ancient book called A Christmas Carol by an Old Earth author named Charles Dickens. It had been translated into Universal, but it had still cost a fortune since it was paper and glue.

  Tears blurred her vision. She swallowed, then took a deep, shuddering breath. Carefully she untied the glittery bow and tore open the foil. A metal box shined in the glowlight. Andia pressed the button on the top of the container, and it slowly opened.

  She peered inside, and her lips trembled when she saw what Mya had given her.

  A Placidian star.

  They were hard to get, expensive, beautiful, and magical, so it was said. Pulsing with energy, the star was certainly gorgeous.

  No one knew their power source. The star was about four inches tall and four inches wide. The center was a crystalline blue, like a still lake. The points were gleaming white. Its hum was almost musical.

  "A Placidian star,” Christophe said softly. “I've never seen one up close."

  "I've never seen one at all,” Zevon said. “What is it?"

  "You know about Placido, right?” Christophe didn't take his focus off the star. “A mysterious planet abandoned by its people, mystical powers said to be exercised by the ruling family. The Placidian stars are relics of the days when people lived there."

  Andia smiled at Christophe. “They made them at Christmastime to celebrate the Star Blessing. Each star was said to grant a wish."

  Christophe's stare focused on her. Why did it seem that his laserlike attention was exactly the same as when he had studied the star? “A rare and beautiful gift."

  She nodded. “Mya was family."

  "I'm sorry, Mistress,” Christophe said in a low voice.

  "She died doing what she was bred to do,” Andia said, proud that she'd kept her voice hard and steady.

  "It was much more than that,” Zevon argued. “She obviously cared for you."

  Andia snorted. “Why? Because she gave me an expensive gift?"

  Zevon's eyebrows rose. “I can tell from the look on your face when you opened the gift. It didn't matter what was in that box."

  She blinked away unwanted tears and turned away from the two men. “She always said I worked too hard, didn't go after what I really wanted.” Few people knew what Mistress Andia wanted. Only Mya had known.

  Had it been their first weekend here, in the desolate mountains, that Mya had tapped into Andia's true desire? She glanced back at the two men who had hidden their natures from friends and family. Was she any different? Only Mya had known what Andia was beneath her skin.

  Mya had allowed Andia to explore all sides of her sexuality, and the older woman hadn't judged her. Their times here had been few and far between. And precious.

  Here she had found true release in pain and submission. Not the submission she demanded from those she broke. She gave to Mya, and her guard gave back. It never felt unequal or powerless. It was something special, although Mya always told her Andia needed a dick to really surrender.

  She smiled and contemplated the star. Only Mya had known that Andia sought the impossible: a man who both submitted and dominated. A man who could kneel when she needed him to and a man who could stripe her back with cleansing, painful blows when she desired it.

  "She was your lover,” Christophe said in a whisper.

  Could Andia make them understand? “She was—She was the only one who understood I was more than just the Ball Breaker."

  "Like me,” Zevon stated. She turned to meet his steady gaze.

  "Like you.” Was that what she'd seen in him? She couldn't deny that there was a camaraderie and understanding between them. He was no submissive. She knew that. Yet, she felt in her gut that he would surrender to her. “There is no question in my mind that I can break you."

  Zevon stepped closer, and Andia inhaled sharply. He towered over her, but many men did. Something in him, something in her clicked together. When he spoke, his words resonated through her. “There's no question in my mind that I could break you."

  Her pulse pounded, and she resisted the urge to retreat. She was like him. And he saw what Mya had glimpsed. Pride forced her to stand up to Zevon, even though he was right. She snorted. “What would be the fun in that?"

  For a charged moment, they remained toe-to-toe, neither willing to give an inch. In his face, she could see his desire for her, his need. When his hot gaze flicked to Christophe, the heat in the room spiked. Her head spun, and instinctively she knew what his next words would be.

  He shook his head. “Honestly?” Suddenly his hand shot out and yanked Christophe closer. “I'd have more fun if you broke him."

  "Are you sure you're not avoiding what you know will happen?” And it would. Her nerves tightened in anticipation for the fight. There would come a time when Zevon wou
ld submit to her and give her the sweet taste of his surrender.

  "What we had in the conclave was never finished.” Zevon's voice held a dark, sensual purr that seemed to vibrate straight to Andia's pussy. “I want to watch you work,” he said.

  The way Christophe's eyes dilated and his breath shortened into gasps turned her on. But it was the way he resisted Zevon, the way his arm muscles tightened, trying to pull away, that made her step forward. She set the box with the star on the small coffee table and closed the distance between them.

  "Why?” she asked Zevon.

  "I love to watch him surrender to you.” Zevon's hand tangled in Christophe's hair. He yanked Christophe's head back and put his lips against the other man's throat. Zevon's voice was muffled against Christophe's skin as he explained. “When he surrenders to me, he holds back. He gives only the rougher, harder parts of himself.” Zevon's dark gaze met hers. “But with you, he surrenders all of himself."

  "No—” Christophe groaned and jerked in Zevon's hold.

  Zevon tightened his hold and looked into Christophe's face. Andia noted the fear that twisted Christophe's features, the way his throat moved when he swallowed, and the nervous swipe of his lips as he licked his lips. Zevon didn't loosen his hold. “Yes. It scares you, I know, to let go, to trust her with me here. You believe it makes you disloyal to me."

  Christophe's stillness made Andia's gut clench. He blinked twice. “I don't want to lose you."

  Without taking his gaze off Christophe's face, Zevon asked her, “What about it, Mistress Andia? Do you only want him?"

  "You know I want you both,” she answered. Want was too mild a word for the volcanic emotions that boiled in her blood. Her head spun, and her heart pounded. Part of her was afraid to reach out and grab the moment. “You don't think it's strange to do this now?” She licked her lips and held her breath.

  When he turned to look at her, Zevon's passion-filled eyes softened, an expression she'd never seen before that filled her with warmth. “Mistress, you've lost too much today. Take what we're offering you."

  "As a distraction,” she said. She wouldn't be anyone's pity fuck.

  "As a gift,” Christophe said softly.

  Her throat tightened, and she swallowed. These men knew loss and pain. They offered her a moment to feel whole, even if it was just a moment.

  She reached out and tangled her hand in Christophe's hair. When she did, Zevon withdrew, but she focused on him. “He's overdressed,” she mused.

  Zevon's grin was wicked and hot. Andia felt warm, like she had been numb from the cold but now stood beside a flame. Zevon reached his hands around Christophe's waist, sliding up to his collar. When he reached the zipper at Christophe's neck, Zevon slowly slid it down. While he undressed his lover, Zevon dipped down to stroke Christophe's cock.

  "Open your eyes,” Andia snapped, and Christophe's eyes, which had drifted shut, flew open.

  Whatever was going to happen, she wanted both of them to remember who they were with.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Eight

  Zevon yanked the flight suit off Christophe's shoulders, then stepped back. He stared at the woman who had changed from his enemy to something else.

  Her blonde hair shone in the dim globelight. She had dark brown eyes that were focused on Christophe like he was the most important thing in the world. Her slim, perfect hands and the line of her neck were graceful yet powerful.

  Zevon held his breath as she drew her hand away from Christophe so that she could shrug off the voluminous fur coat she wore. Beneath it, she was encased in soft white silk that clung to her skin and shimmered like diamonds.

  Yet it wasn't the clothing that set his cock raging. It was the way she commanded Christophe with her eyes, with her confident stance, with her calm, steady breathing. She brushed her breasts against Christophe's bare chest and shoved her knee against his balls. “I'm greedy, Zevon,” she said to him even as she watched Christophe. “I want you both."

  The hitch in Christophe's breath and the way his cock twitched meant Andia was going to get what she wanted. “How?” he asked.

  Finally she turned her mysterious look to him. “I want—” She bit her luscious lips and blinked.

  "How about if I play the all-knowing dom for a moment,” he said lightly and was rewarded when her lips rose in a smile. Yes, she knew the myth of the Dom who could read a sub's mind and give them everything.

  Experience, not some psychic ability, meant a dom could read a sub like an open book. She was no sub, however, so reading her was tougher. A challenge he didn't mind taking.

  He delved deep into his own desires to understand hers, knowing he could be mistaken, but his gut told him he wasn't. “You want a man who can be on his knees worshipping you but who will also stand up and take control when you need to let go."

  She let out a small gasp, and he grinned. “You want a man who will submit.” He glanced at Christophe, who still stared at the floor. “And a man who will resist.” He met her gaze. “You would love to be on your knees, but only to a man worthy of it."

  He wasn't surprised when her perfect eyebrows shot up. “And you're that man?” A skeptical tone colored her words.

  "I don't know, Mistress Andia.” He stepped closer to Christophe and gripped the nape of his neck. “Let me give you a gift first, one I've wanted to give you since I saw you."

  "A gift?"

  "My surrender. Freely given.” He smiled, wicked thoughts crowding out anything else. “And my resistance too, of course."

  It appealed to her, he could tell. To be in control of them both, to own this moment so filled with grief and doubt. He wanted to give that moment to her. All his resistance to what had happened with her at the conclave disappeared. The knot in his belly loosened, and he admitted to himself what she'd already seen. He needed this.

  She released Christophe and nodded. “Then I want to see him take your cock in his mouth,” she said to Zevon.

  Christophe started to sink to his knees, but she held up her hand. “No, I want Zevon to lie down over there.” She pointed to one the couches.

  Zevon and Christophe moved to the ancient pieces of furniture. Christophe knelt beside Zevon as his lover stripped off his clothes. He studied Andia as he did, noting her nipples hardened and her breath quickened.

  He reclined on the cushions and nodded at Christophe. When his lover's mouth closed over his cock, he thought he'd lose it, coming in Christophe's mouth before Andia had a chance to enjoy the view.

  "Don't come, Zevon,” she said softly.

  She strode closer, and Zevon realized she held a pair of cuffs. When she gripped Christophe's arm, then pulled it back, Zevon groaned. The snick of the cuffs was loud and final. Christophe's pace on Zevon's dick increased. The friction was almost too much, but Zevon gritted his teeth and held on.

  Andia studied them, watched them, her eyes glittering with arousal. “I like watching you struggle, Zevon. Put those hands behind your head."

  He complied and stared at her boldly. “Let me suck your cunt, Mistress. Let me make you come again and again.” He sucked in a breath when Christophe growled against his cock in agreement.

  "No touching. You keep those hands behind your head or I'll punish you severely,” she said sternly.

  Zevon thought he was going to go insane as he watched her slip out of her lingerie. Her breasts were small enough to fill a man's mouth, and her long legs were a fantasy all their own. She left her boots on, the heels digging into his ribs as she straddled him. Her pussy was slick, glistening with her arousal. He wanted to dive in, devour her, drive her to oblivion.

  But he wanted to torment her too.

  She knelt over him, her cunt hovered above his face, her hands in his hair. For a moment, he studied her, reveling in the sight and scent of her. “You smell so good, Mistress."

  "Let's see if your tongue is as good at fucking me as it is with compliments.” Her smile was strained, and Zevon had to curb his des
ire to plunder and take.

  A gift. He was giving her a gift.

  He tried to ignore the feel of Christophe's mouth on his cock. He tried to slow down his ravenous hunger for Andia's sweet pussy. He gently flicked his tongue over the erect nub hidden in the heated folds of her flesh. Her fingers tightened in his hair, and he slid his mouth over her clit again. Her hips jerked and rubbed her slickness over his chin.

  Slowly, torturously, he licked her, demanded her response, and got it. She growled and pressed closer, silently begging him to increase his speed, drive her higher. But he kept up his leisurely assault.

  When her hips rotated rhythmically, he let go and increased his speed and pressure, driving her to the edge. In time with her demanding movements, Christophe quickened the pace of his tongue over Zevon's dick.

  Stars, he wasn't going to hold out. His balls tightened; his cock ached and burned.

  "Bite me, you dominant bastard,” she snarled at him.

  He laid his teeth on her clit, and she let out a keening wail. He moaned as the sweet, salty taste of her response flooded his tongue. Her climax spurred Christophe to drag his teeth over Zevon's cock.

  "Son of a fucking bitch,” he bit out, his voice muffled by Andia's pussy.

  "Come for me, Zevon. Do it,” she snapped.

  He exploded, his orgasm shuddering through him like a tornado. On and on, his cum warm on his thighs as some spilled out of Christophe's mouth.

  "I want to taste him on your mouth,” Andia demanded, and Christophe released Zevon's cock slowly.

  She twirled around, her ass in Zevon's face, another torment. He flicked his tongue along the seam, and she smacked his thigh. “I did not give you permission."

  Christophe's features were tight and strained, cum on his face gleaming in the light. Andia pounced, knocking Christophe back onto the floor. Zevon would have laughed at Christophe's surprised expression if the sight of Andia straddling him wasn't so damn sexy.

  "I believe it's your turn,” she stated and slammed her cunt onto Christophe's cock.