Commanded to Yield

by Jennifer Leeland

  He opened his mouth to deny that the woman he’d come to care for, had Claimed, would betray his people when the door to the council chambers whooshed open.

  “I wish to address the council, as you promised me, Mr. Pasquel.” Fallon stood in the door, pale, beautiful, fragile.

  His hands clenched the arm rests of his chair. She was still too weak to do this. Only forty-eight hours ago, she’d been near death. “Fallon—”

  “No,” she interrupted. Her gaze held his. “I have to do this. You saved my life, Matthew. Let me do what I can to save yours.”

  He blinked. What was she talking about? Fallon stepped to the head of the table and faced the council. “My father sent me with two missions, one obvious, one secret. The first was the trade agreement, and the second was Asberek’s complete capitulation. I was to blackmail Adonis Pasquel to create chaos and gain the upper hand.” She licked her lips and refused to glance at him. “What I didn’t know was that he had another plan in case I failed. He hired several men to accompany me. One of them was Todd Aster. This man was to inject me with a highly toxic poison.” She cleared her throat. “He was supposed to give it to me if I failed to blackmail Pasquel. When Todd informed my father that I’d had sexual relations with Matthew Lestrano, he ordered the poison given immediately. I’m here to tell you why.”

  Matthew’s gaze narrowed. What the hell was this? She shot him one quick look and then continued.

  “My father’s real goal is to obtain the Pasquel DNA.” She took a deep breath. “He plans to use it to create a weapon.”

  Several council members gasped. Matthew realized where this was heading, and he didn’t like it. Fallon’s hands shook, and she clasped them together. “Many of you know Mars surrendered after thousands died, but perhaps you don’t know how they died.”

  A stillness filled the room. Rumors had flown after Mars collapsed against Earth Central forces. Fallon’s voice trembled. “Earth Central used … a genetic weapon, a bomb, focused only on those who colonized Mars. It wiped out entire family lines.” A haunted expression crossed her face. “Nine hundred of those four thousand killed on Mars were children.” She met Pasquel’s horrified gaze. “I’m begging you. Don’t fight them. They’re willing to do anything, anything, to win.”

  “Obtaining the Pasquel DNA would only eliminate him,” his mother said. “What difference would that make? It would create chaos, yes, but the colony would remain intact.”

  Fallon licked her lips. “My father believes the Pasquel DNA can be used to resist Earth Central. I am a good example of how its healing power works. By taking that option away, crushing any rebellion will be fairly simple.”

  Pasquel stood and wrapped an arm around Fallon. “Miss Denny, I thank you for telling us this.” He glanced at the council. “Is there any doubt what our next step is?”

  Fallon blinked. “You’ll surrender?”

  Pasquel shook his head gently. “No, my dear. We will enlist the Dormrela to help us.” He glanced at Matthew. “We know what they require.”

  “It’s insane,” Matthew commented.

  Pasquel frowned. “No. There’s more to it than we know, but we don’t have time to ferret out their real reasons.”

  “What do they require?” Fallon wanted to know.

  Matthew met her frantic glance. “The Dormrela require one of Pasquel’s daughters.”

  “What?” Her voice was a squeak. “You can’t do that!”

  “You’ve talked to the girls?” Sashina asked Pasquel.

  Pasquel nodded and one of his hands curled into a fist. “Sierra has agreed to the arrangement.”

  Matthew studied Fallon. Her jaw had dropped open, and she closed it with a snap. “You anticipated this,” she accused Pasquel.

  The man gazed at Fallon. “Yes, Fallon. We were sure Earth Central had no intention of ending our dispute peacefully. I’m sorry.”

  It hurt to watch her. Matthew noted how her features froze. Her whole being was still. Everything she’d risked, everything she’d sacrificed, had been for nothing. The conflict would happen anyway.

  He rose from his chair. “Sit down, Fallon.”

  Her gaze jerked to his face, and he winced at the lost, wild expression. “Thank you, Matthew, but no.” With dignity, she bowed her head to the council. “Thank you for your time.”

  She strode out of the room, her head high. Silence fell after she left. Sashina stared at the table. Pasquel cleared his throat. Michael’s face was thoughtful.

  “Has she accepted her new status?” Sashina asked Matthew.

  Had she? No, not really. There hadn’t been time to explain it all. Negotiations with the Dormrela, meetings with the vid streamers, and constant council meetings had kept him from spending quality time with his new partner.

  He shifted in his seat. Excuses wouldn’t do here. He’d avoided discussing it with Fallon. What did she know about him? Nothing at all. “She and I have not talked about it.”

  Sashina rolled her eyes, and Michael met his gaze. It was Pasquel who voiced the common thought. “As much as Harbold used her, we did as well, Matthew. We owe it to her to include her in all aspects of Asberek’s future now.” The man frowned. “I think you’d better go talk to your Claimed and explain how important she is now.”

  “She’s going to feel used,” Sashina announced. “He may fail.”

  Michael grinned. “He won’t fail. He has an advantage.”

  Pasquel raised an eyebrow. “Oh? What’s that?”

  “She’s in love with him.”

  But Matthew didn’t believe that for a minute. Like many colonists before her, Fallon had succumbed to S.E.X. Their encounters had been almost entirely sexual in nature without tenderness. Love didn’t grow from those kinds of encounters. She’d been forced into a relationship with him, and he had to accept that the chance for deeper feelings may have passed him by.

  He gritted his teeth. “I’ll talk to her.”

  Irritation morphed to anger when she wasn’t in her hospital room where she’d been staying for over a week. The anger grew when he couldn’t locate her in the Causeway or her old quarters.

  Where the hell would she go? On a hunch, he strode out of the Causeway and toward The Asberek Moon. He’d been cooped up in his office for days, trying to contain the firestorm of media manipulation Harbold Denny had begun. There’d been no time to reassure his Claimed.

  And he hadn’t been affected by the drug.

  When had he noticed it? Yesterday? Forty-eight hours without sex and he was still breathing. That’s when he knew he’d committed to Fallon Denny sexually. No one else would do, and the moment had been filled with both fierce joy and crippling doubt.

  The club’s dance floor was already packed even though it was still early in the evening. A cold rage gripped his chest when he spotted Fallon toss back a drink at the bar. Trista leaned on the bar, an amused smile on her face.

  He pushed people aside when he crossed the dance floor and approached the woman who held his heart in her clueless hands. With a jerk, he swiveled the barstool around to face him and glared at her. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? I didn’t know where you were.”

  Ice was warmer than the glance she gave him. “Let me say this clearly. Fuck you.” She tossed another shot back.

  He studied her face. “How many of those have you had?” Okay, he was losing his grip. Trista still had an amused expression on her face, and he glared at her too. “You got her drunk.”

  Trista’s lips twitched. “Yes, I did. Now you can take her home.” She emphasized the last word.

  The light dawned. Fallon needed a home. She didn’t realize, and he had assumed she would, that her home was with him. “Right,” he snapped and gripped her arm.

  She tried to yank away from him. “Let me go, you asshole.”

  He pushed her forward and out the door of the club. “We’ll discuss this at home.”

  “What’s there to discuss?” she snapped.

  His house
was near the Capitol, and Matthew was proud of it. The living room was furnished with a comfortable couch and chair. A vid screen dominated one wall, and a Dormrelian painting dominated another. A huge picture window gave him a perfect view of every Asberek sunset.

  One bedroom, a kitchen and a VFR made his house a home, and Matthew had worked hard to make it a pleasant place to be. Fallon, however, didn’t notice any of it.

  “My father tricked me, brought me here for a job that was never going to happen. The council manipulated me, set me up. And you?” she choked and clenched her fists. “You fucked me to keep me quiet.”

  “I did not fuck you for any other reason than I wanted you. Badly,” he snarled and stepped closer. “The minute I laid eyes on you, I wanted you.”

  “Bullshit. You had a job to do. Was Claiming me part of that? Or is that some kind of perk I’m not aware of?” She sneered.

  “Claiming you was necessary.”

  “Exactly.” She started for the door. “I want off this planet.”

  Panic ripped through him. Why couldn’t he convince her? “No.” He shouldn’t touch her. But it tore him to pieces that she believed their sexual connection had been planned. He jerked her into his arms. “You’re my Claimed. You belong to me.”

  Her lips trembled. “You don’t own me.”

  “Heart and soul, Fallon Denny. And you own me.” He didn’t wait for her protest. He swooped down and took possession of her lips.

  Bitterness and anger tinged the kiss. Her muscles strained to get away from him, and he slammed her against the wall. How dare she suggest she might leave? Didn’t she know he’d just follow her? Anywhere. Any way. She was his.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Where was her fight? Fallon struggled against the temptation of Matthew’s kiss and fought him, and herself. He had tricked her because he had always aware her visit to Asberek was a joke. Her father had betrayed her, and the council had used her, but Matthew? He made her feel something for Asberek. And it was all a lie.

  “Let me go,” she whispered when he tore his lips from hers.

  “Never,” he declared.

  Bleakly, she nodded. “Because of the DNA.”

  “Because you’re mine,” he stated, and he took her breath away again.

  The wall against her back, the press of his body on hers, and the feel of his kiss swamped her with sensations she couldn’t handle. She groaned and surrendered.

  His hand twined in her hair, and he lifted his mouth. He stared at her. “I’m going to punish you for this. You’ll know you’re mine then.”

  She shivered and shrank back from him. He shook his head slowly. “Ah, Fallon. Punishment is … delicious.” His lips brushed hers. “You’ll see, my Claimed one.”

  Her gaze met his, and she sought his gaze for anger, for bitterness, for those feelings that spawned revenge. All she found was a dark desire that made his eyes gleam. His mouth dipped down, and he scraped his teeth over the sensitive skin of her neck. She shuddered, wondering what power he held that made her melt in his arms.

  It’s just sex. She tried to believe that when his mouth slid over her skin. The wall against her back kept her from sagging to the floor, but it was his strong hands that held her captive to his will.

  But that was just it. She couldn’t do this. From the frying pan into the fire? How stupid did he think she was? She fought him, grimly using every weapon she had to gain distance. Her hands clenched against the hot skin on his chest when she pushed hard. With the added kick of her foot against his shin, freedom was hers.

  He only stepped back, but it was enough to gain breathing room. She jerked away from the wall and into the middle of the room. As hard as she’d kicked him, she expected anger. Instead, his expression was amused, relaxed, as if he was having fun.

  “You’re only adding to your punishment, Fallon.”

  “Fuck you, you pervert,” she shouted.

  He smiled. “That’s the idea, baby.”

  She stumbled backward, and the back of her knees hit some piece of furniture. Her hand shot out to catch her fall, but Matthew sprang the moment her balance was off. He caught her hands and jerked them behind her back, yanking her into his arms. She kicked him, but it did no good.

  “You can’t do this. I didn’t want this, and I don’t want you.” She glared at him when she told the lie.

  His gaze was gentle, and her heart lurched in her chest. “Liar,” he said softly.

  She expected him to kiss her then, show her just how much she had lied. Instead, he whirled her around and shoved her ahead of him, his hands clamped around her wrists. Her stumbling feet shuffled forward, and he pushed her into a room off the living room.

  And what a room.

  No VFR prepared her for a room like this. A Saint Andrew’s Cross dominated one side of the room. Two benches, one higher at about her waist, dominated the other side. On the wall hung every imaginable type of flogger, dildo and other devices. She shivered despite the warmth in the room. The walls were a deep burgundy, and the equipment was all black leather. The floor was some soft, padded material she’d never seen. The whole room was designed for sex.

  She curled her hands into fists. How could she fight him? Her body craved him. The whole room smelled like him—a musky, masculine scent unique to him. When he’d said he was going to punish her, she knew he meant it. Those ten lashes on the VFR pirate ship were merely a taste of what he would do to her here.

  Fear coiled in her stomach, but also a delicious anticipation streamed through her blood. In her mind, she could see her body splayed on the wooden cross, her arms and legs bound by leather straps, and Matthew plying her with a flogger. The thought excited her, and her legs shook.

  Silence stretched between them, and he let her look her fill. When she turned to look at him, he raised his eyebrows.

  Her breath quickened, and she blinked. “I won’t submit. I’m not a submissive.” Even as the words slipped from her lips, she recognized the lie. For him, she would do anything, drop to her knees, bend over that bench, anything.

  He stalked toward her, his gaze narrowed on her face. Heat flushed her face and neck. She tipped her chin and stood her ground. His glance traveled over her entire body, and her soft brown blazer and brown pants suddenly seemed hot and uncomfortable. She almost groaned. What was it about this man that made her want to shed clothes?

  “Fight me all you want, Fallon Denny. But you’re my Claimed, and when you have physical needs, it’s my responsibility to take care of them.” His gaze zeroed in on her blouse where her nipples had hardened and showed through the soft material.

  “I don’t have any needs,” she lied.

  “I’ll tell you what,” he said, his tone casual, belying the expression in his eyes. “If I see part of you that needs … attention, I’ll take care of it.”

  “No,” she breathed. “Matthew—” She broke off when his hands shot out and ripped her blouse open.

  For a moment, their gazes met. A challenge, a gauntlet had been thrown. Then, her eyes drifted shut when his fingers grazed her nipples through her bra. Damn him. Her nerves jumped and leaped at his touch, her skin on fire for him. Whatever her conscious mind might think, her body wanted him. Desperately.

  Matthew made short work of the clasp of her bra. His palms covered her nipples, pressuring them, kneading them until her knees were weak. Of their own volition, her hands clutched at his shoulders and her head dropped back. He made a sound, a low growl of triumph, when his mouth descended and slid over her neck.

  Her breath caught in her throat, and she licked her lips. When his mouth captured a nipple, every muscle shuddered and tensed. He sucked hard, and her hips thrust toward his. It was all over. She’d surrendered without a fight.

  He backed away and yanked her clothes from her body. His impatient fingers didn’t wait for her compliance but ripped away material, sent buttons flying, and seemed in a damn hurry to get her naked.

  “Do you still believe you’re not mine?�
� he asked her, his voice rough as gravel.

  Her arms crossed over her breasts. “I believe you had ulterior motives for Claiming me.” It amazed her that she could still say the words. Exposed and vulnerable, she lashed out at him. “You may want to fuck me, but it’s just to score off my father.”

  “I do want to fuck you. But I’ll prove to you that you belong to me now. You’re one of us, Fallon Denny. And when I’m through, you’ll know it.”

  She broke. “But why? Matthew, you can’t do this. I’m the enemy. I came here to destroy your home, to discredit your people.”

  His fingers stroked her cheek. “I knew the minute I saw you. It may take you longer, but I can wait.” He dropped his hand. “Meanwhile, there’s your punishment.”

  Why did that word fill her with a mixture of anxiety and lust? She pressed her lips together and glared at him.

  “The rules are simple, Fallon. In this room, you are my submissive. You must keep your eyes lowered and speak only when I give you permission.”

  “Fuck you,” she snapped.

  He went on as if she hadn’t spoken. “When you break these rules, you will be punished.”

  “Aren’t you a big, strong man?” she said with a sneer. “I can’t fight you so—”

  “Anytime something is more than you can stand, or isn’t pleasurable, you will tell me by saying the words red light,” he continued, ignoring her interruptions.

  She clenched her fists. Sex was one thing, but this? This was different. She wasn’t a submissive. Maybe if she told herself that enough times, it would be true. Every word he spoke made her body respond. Her mind rebelled, unable to believe she might like being submissive to Matthew Lestrano.

  “I will not—” she started.

  “Every day I expect to find you in this room, naked and on your knees. Outside this room, you will be my Claimed, my political partner in every way. Your position on the council will strengthen us, and you will be my equal. But here, in this room, you will submit to me, yield to me.” The last three words were almost a request, a plea.

  Her lips trembled, and she closed her eyes. Yield to me. What had surrender to her father’s will gotten her? Poisoned, abandoned, betrayed. Surrender to Matthew had given her nothing but pleasure. But it wasn’t her nature to surrender. She fought for everything in her life. Her career was a series of skirmishes won by the grit of her teeth. Her political clout was paid for with her sweat and determination. How could she become what he asked?