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Commanded to Yield

Page 4

by Jennifer Leeland


  “Very interesting. But why would anyone risk death for a higher resistance?”

  “The excitement.” Jonah’s gaze rested on Carl who had remained silent. “I was one of the first colonists, so I know the risks of not being protected, but … sometimes I miss that frantic need.”

  Matthew shot a glance at him. He’d never thought how difficult it might be for the original colonists. Many of them developed relationships under the influence of the drug. Hell, his parents had. How had the inoculations affected them?

  “I’m afraid the idea of needing someone that much doesn’t appeal to me.” Fallon swallowed, and Matthew watched the movement. Nervous. She was lying. It did appeal to her.

  And he wanted to be that someone. Very badly.

  Damn. He needed to get into a VFR and take care of himself. Why the hell had he risked it tonight of all nights?

  “Here we are. My pride and joy,” Jonah said and waved his hand.

  The Asberek Moon dominated the skyline with its dome-shaped roof and curved walls. It resembled some ancient Earth palace with corridors that curved and turned enough to lose the uninitiated.

  Immediately inside the entrance were five shallow steps down into a sunken circular bar. In one corner, a game of Twisted had begun, the leather clad participants crowded around the table. Another section held the vanilla part of the colony, a dwindling part of the population. S.E.X had changed more than just the sexual habits of the colony. It changed the nature of their sexual practices. Kink was common. Vanilla was the minority.

  The club reflected the new order with the preponderance of leather, handcuffs and hardware. The music was seductive and vibrated throughout the room. Matthew glanced at Fallon and almost laughed. Her eyes were saucers. She stared at the gambling tables, all betting sexual favors not money.

  Even though the place was crowded, the noise level was manageable. It had to be. The woman Jonah hired wouldn’t have the place filled with grating sounds. Where was she tonight? He finally spotted her behind the bar. Now, there was a woman Fallon could tell all her little Earth friends all about.

  Mistress T. Her real name? Trista Tarune. It was a name any Earth Central representative should know. Her father, Jake, had stopped the first attempt to destroy the Asberek colony. Her mother, Daniella, had been of special interest to the Ang. Since those early days, the Ang had tried in every way they could to stop their genetic decline. They predicted their culture would die if Trista hadn’t been born.

  No pressure.

  Matthew urged Fallon across the crowded dance floor. The music throbbed through his body, and he wanted to join in. A little bump and grind always improved his mood, especially if it ended in hot fucking. He gritted his teeth. His cock, hard and insistent, wanted to find some relief.

  Fallon reached up and pulled his head down. “Who is she?” she whispered.

  Did she have any idea how good she smelled? He inhaled her scent, a light sweet fragrance that mixed with the smell of sweat around them. It sent his need into overdrive. Fallon’s gaze was locked with Mistress T’s, and Matthew grinned. No one spotted a submissive quicker than Trista. “That is Trista Tarune. Mistress T to you.”

  “She—” Fallon frowned and shivered. Matthew stared at her. Her skin was flushed, and her golden flecks glittered in the strobe lights of the club.

  “Come and meet her.”

  “Wait—” she protested, but he pressed her forward.

  “Matt. How are you?” Trista said without taking her stare off of Fallon’s face.

  “Horny,” he said. Honesty was always best with Trista.

  Her glance touched him, and her brown eyes twinkled. “Didn’t take the inoculation again, huh?”

  Fallon’s gaze jerked to his face. He sighed. “No. You know I chafe under that fucking shit.”

  Mistress T nodded. “I don’t like it either.” She smiled, her luscious lips soft and sweet. “Who have you brought me?”

  Trust Trista to believe he’d brought Fallon specifically for her sexual enjoyment. Well, why not? He and Trista had played submissives together for years. “This is Fallon Denny, the Earth Central representative sent to negotiate a trade agreement.”

  The only sign of Trista’s withdrawal was her eyes closed briefly. Yes, she would be cautious of a representative of Earth Central. After all, her parents were dead because of the EC council. “She doesn’t know about me, does she?”

  “You mean how well you can spank her?” Matthew shot a glance at Fallon’s face. “I’d say no.”

  Trista leaned across the bar and captured Fallon’s chin in her hand. “Would you like to know?” Her voice purred.

  Matthew stepped back and took in the picture. Trista had long, beautiful hands and black hair that flowed over her shoulders. Her black, leather bustier revealed a perfect cleavage with shadows placed where a man might imagine her dusky nipples. She wore tight leather pants and no jewelry except for a pair of old fashioned handcuffs clipped to her waist.

  The contrast to Fallon’s gold swathed softness was sharp and stunning. Fallon’s skin had a light sheen, and the gold flecks in her eyes glowed. The gold dress glittered in the flashing lights, and she had an anxious expression on her face that any dominant would want. Trista dropped her hand from Fallon’s chin only long enough to hop over the bar, and then she leaned closer, her booted feet dangling. Her other arm shot out and yanked Fallon closer.

  Surrender in Fallon’s demeanor was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. Her eyes clouded, and her cheeks colored, but her muscles relaxed in a languid pool. Trista’s corded arm kept her upright, and the Mistress leaned in to brush Fallon’s lips.

  Fallon’s whole body jerked, and her lids drooped over her eyes. Trista stared at Fallon’s face. “She’s beautiful, Matt. Is she yours?”

  “Not yet,” he answered immediately. Until that moment he hadn’t known he wanted to possess her, but when Trista asked the question, certainty filled him. Fallon would belong to him. For a short time, anyway.

  “What?” Fallon joined the conversation and jerked away from Trista. She glared at Matthew. “I don’t belong to anyone, Mr. Lestrano. You seem to have me confused with someone else.”

  Trista hopped down and stalked Fallon. “Oh, I don’t think so. Matt doesn’t get confused. Not about submissives.”

  Color flooded Fallon’s cheeks, but it was outrage, not embarrassment. “I am not a submissive,” she snapped.

  “Hold still,’ Trista ordered in a sharp tone, and Fallon froze. Trista’s laugh was low. “Yes, you are a submissive. Nothing is more beautiful that the surrender of a submissive, Fallon. It’s a strength, not a weakness.”

  Matthew could only agree. Fallon’s submission was her strength, and she could have him wrapped around her little finger in a heartbeat. Hell, she could have him and Trista wrapped around her fingers.

  Fallon blinked and whirled away from Trista so fast Matthew didn’t have a chance to stop her. She had disappeared into one of the corridors before he even moved. “Shit.”

  ‘Fast, isn’t she?” Trista grinned. “That one is in denial.”

  “No kidding. Damn it. Can you locate her?”

  Trista’s gaze held a mischievous light. “Oh, a little hide and seek might be good for you.”

  He glared at her. “You’re cruel.”

  “Only to you, baby.”

  He had to laugh. “Bullshit. You love being cruel.”

  Trista shrugged. “Only if you like it. And face it, you do. Better get going before she actually finds the exit.”

  “Right.” He strode toward the hallway where Fallon had disappeared.

  Chapter Six

  Where the hell was she? Fallon had lost sight of the door, and the hallway had led down an incline. It circled around, and now she was completely turned around. What a fool. She’d bolted, terrified of the power Trista exercised over her. It reinforced the power Matthew seemed to have, and she couldn’t face what that might mean.

  She knew what they w
ere, what they wanted. Surrender, her surrender. They wanted her on her knees, her head bowed, her hands restrained, and her body theirs. The worst part was she wanted that too. Her pussy ached, and her blood pumped through her heart so hard she was sure that woman could see it.

  There had been collared women in that club. Is that what she wanted? Well, maybe not with just anyone. But with Matthew?

  Her head hurt. Damn it. She couldn’t do that. He interfered with her mission, her purpose for being on Asberek in the first place. He only wanted control of her because she was the EC representative. He didn’t want Fallon. He wanted Harbold Denny’s daughter.

  A sob escaped her throat, and she stumbled farther down the hallway. Where was the exit? Abruptly, she turned around and sprinted back the way she’d come. Her breath came fast and hard. What frightened her more? The hallway’s confusing twists and turns where she could be lost forever? Or Matthew Lestrano’s absolute sexual control?

  Her blood burned, and she began to feel weak. What the hell was wrong with her? She tripped and threw her arms out to stop full body impact with the floor. Two strong hands caught her before she slammed to the floor.

  The room spun, and she couldn’t breathe. Matthew leaned over her, and she couldn’t find the breath to tell him something was definitely wrong. He muttered a curse word. Then, he lifted her into his arms and pressed a button on the wall.

  “Found her so soon?” Trista’s voice came over the com, amused and sexy.

  “She’s going to die, T. You’d better get down here. Level two.” He met her gaze. “When were you inoculated against S.E.X.?”

  Fallon tried to gather her scattered thoughts. “Last month. They told me it would last eight weeks.”

  “They were wrong.” Matthew strode down the corridor and pressed buttons on another console.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Everyone’s physiology is different. For example, for me, an inoculation lasts three weeks tops.” He smiled grimly. “I’ve been told it’s a matter of hormones. A woman with very high estrogen production has to get inoculations more often. A man with high testosterone does as well. We’ve explained this to Earth Central.”

  “So I’m—”

  “You’re dying from S.E.X exposure.” He tipped her chin to study her face. “Can you see?”

  “It’s blurry,” she admitted.

  “You’re so far gone that masturbation won’t work,” he said bluntly.

  “VFR?”

  “No. It has to be me. Or Mistress T. Take your choice.”

  Can I have both, please? Where the hell did that thought come from? She had to be influenced by the drug. She whimpered.

  “Right. Then, we’ll decide.” He strode inside the room, and she noted the familiar blank green screen of a VFR.

  Trista’s voice announced her arrival. “How far gone is she?”

  Fallon started to touch herself before she knew what she was doing. Matthew had laid her down on a bed, and she yanked her dress up to plunge her hand inside her panties. She desperately needed to get off. Right now.

  “You have to help me, T.” Matthew’s voice was a low growl. “I haven’t had my inoculations, and I might hurt her if I top her right now.”

  “Nonsense,” Trista scoffed.

  “It’s not safe. You do it.” He sounded feral and close. Fallon couldn’t help herself. She reached out and grabbed Matthew’s belt.

  “You. Please.” She wanted him.

  Trista laughed. “I’ll stay and help. If you go too far—”

  “You’ll have to start. I won’t last two seconds.”

  “How the mighty are fallen,” Trista murmured. “Fallon?”

  Fallon opened her eyes and met the beautiful dark eyes of Mistress T. “Yes, Mistress?”

  Mistress T’s pupil’s dilated. She liked it when Fallon called her “Mistress”. “I’m going to take care of you. So is Matthew. You must do exactly what we say.”

  “Yes, Mistress.” She sighed out the two words.

  “Get your hand off your clit. Now,” Mistress T demanded.

  Fallon jerked her hand away and sobbed. Her pussy throbbed with need, with unfulfilled desire.

  Mistress T produced a large dildo and flicked on the controls. Protruding from the base of the toy was a fluttering set of prongs. She set those buzzing on Fallon’s clit. The sensation was almost painful. Her blood screamed for release, and the vibrations reverberated through her whole body. She arched her back and tried to control the placement of the dildo.

  Her hand stung when Mistress T slapped it. “Restrain her,” Mistress T snapped and Fallon found her arms gripped and stretched out, her wrists clasped in restraints.

  Her gaze met Matthew’s, and she shuddered at the dark intent in his face. He released the clasp at her neck that held her dress up and he unwrapped her like an erotic present, her arched back allowing him to unlace the material. She squirmed and found her legs restrained by Mistress T. She couldn’t move, couldn’t thrash. They were in control.

  “Top or bottom?” Mistress T asked Matthew.

  She stared at Matthew. He studied her breasts and her nipples tightened under his scrutiny. His gaze slid down her body to her pussy, and she groaned. He hummed a sound of approval that made her pussy jump. “Top. Then I can watch.”

  “You’re so generous,” Mistress T said and licked her luscious lips. Fallon thought she was going to explode.

  Then, all she could do was feel. Matthew’s mouth closed over one nipple, and electricity zapped through her, and she cried out. At the same time, Mistress T swirled her tongue over Fallon’s clit. She slid the dildo inside Fallon’s slick channel while her mouth danced over the little nub that became the center of Fallon’s world.

  Nothing could be like this. It was like birth or death or something so powerful it had no name. Matthew scraped his teeth over her nipple and shards of pleasure rippled along her nerves. Mistress T sucked Fallon’s clit into her mouth, and Fallon screamed, every muscle tight, every nerve taut.

  In rhythm, Matthew and Mistress T sucked on Fallon until she careened over the edge, and her orgasm rolled over her like a steam roller. Her head tossed back and forth, her body completely at their mercy, her pussy pulsating wildly.

  “Mmmm, she tastes like sweet milk.” Mistress T licked her pussy, and Fallon whimpered.

  “My turn,” Matthew said, his voice hoarse.

  Fallon didn’t think she could stand any more. “Please,” she whispered.

  “How sweetly she begs. That deserves a reward,” Mistress T said.

  She slid the dildo out of Fallon’s pussy. Fallon glanced up, and Matthew straddled her. She stared at him. He was naked, gloriously naked. His cock, thick and hard, rested at the entrance of her pussy. Mistress T was still clothed, but her face was flushed, and Fallon could see the sheen of her own cum on the woman’s lips. Why would that send a rush of pleasure through her body? But it did.

  Mistress T rolled Fallon’s nipples between her fingers. Fallon arched into her hands and Mistress T increased the pressure. Fallon groaned. “Ah,” Mistress T said. “She likes it hard.” Her fingers pinched Fallon’s nipples, and every one shattered Fallon’s control.

  The woman pressed her breasts together and sucked both nipples into her mouth. Fallon couldn’t breathe. How did she know? Oh God, how did she know?

  She thrashed beneath Mistress T, and the woman quickened her sucking to a frantic pace, and just as Fallon was going to come, Matthew slammed his cock inside her. Her scream was a wail of pleasure echoed by Matthew’s shout of release.

  It went on and on shattering her, devouring her, burning her. She couldn’t catch her breath or control the shudders that wracked her body. Mistress T kissed the valley between her breasts and then slid her tongue over Fallon’s lips.

  Fallon tried to prolong the contact and kiss this Mistress, this woman, who gave her such pleasure. Matthew’s hands stroked her hips and brushed her nipples. Everything tightened again. She never wa
nted this to end, this sensation of floating.

  With Matthew still buried inside her and Mistress T’s mouth on hers, Fallon slipped over the edge again into another orgasm. This one, a sweet rolling, like a wave on a calm ocean, washed over all of them, and their simultaneous groans echoed in Fallon’s ears.

  Mistress T released Fallon’s mouth. “You, my sweet girl, are dangerous.”

  Fallon blinked and met Matthew’s gaze. The frantic, needy expression was gone, and the shuttered look was back. What had she done?

  Matthew leaned down, his mouth a breath away, his cock inside her. “No shame. You had to do this.”

  In a heartbeat, Fallon let all the guilt, all the questions melt away. She should have felt outraged, indignant that they had used her. But, she’d used them too. To survive.

  She nodded. “Okay.”

  When Matthew backed away, she shuddered. She attempted to sit up, but Mistress T’s hand pressed on her shoulder. “Wait, sweet girl. You came pretty close to going under. Take a minute.”

  “I’m fine, really.” She swung her legs over the side of the bed. “My dress?” She glanced around the room.

  Matthew held out the long strip of material. “I hope I didn’t do any damage.”

  “Let me,” Mistress T said and helped Fallon wrap the dress back around her sensitive body. Her nipples hardened helplessly, and she trembled.

  When the woman finished dressing her, she drove her hands through Fallon’s hair. “Very dangerous,” Mistress T murmured and brushed her lips over Fallon’s mouth. Fallon groaned.

  “I’ve never—” How could she explain? She’d never wanted a woman before. Why did this woman appeal to her? The strange sensation of dizziness and extreme sexual appetite seemed to have passed, but the attraction to Mistress T hadn’t diminished in the least. What did that mean?

  “I know that.” Mistress T stroked her cheek. “And it’s sexy as hell.” She shot Matthew a sharp glance. “You talk about being cruel.”

 

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