Working hard to keep his frustration in check, Leo squared his shoulders and marched into his home. Brigit was waiting for him in the foyer with an update on the new servants, both those she’d purchased and the comparably far more expensive specimens he had. Leo barely heard her but managed to dispense a few grunted acknowledgments and instructions. He could feel Brigit staring at him, obviously conscious of his distraction but too obedient to draw attention to it.
He left her standing in the foyer as he mounted the stairs and made his way unthinkingly to the drakonid’s room.
Sann was waiting for him when he stepped inside the gloomy room, her brilliant eyes staring deeply into his. She was still seated on the chair he’d left for her and sat up straighter as he shut the door behind himself.
“Ssso,” she hissed. “What rolesss do I have?”
Leo grinned. It felt good to let loose, to not have to keep himself in check around another person, even a non-human one. Karran might be able to take his more aggressive sexual impulses, but living in proximity to the others had softened her personality a bit. The drakonid, however…
“I have enemies,” he growled, teeth bared. “Lots of enemies. People who want me dead. And I don’t intend to let them.”
The vitriol in his voice took even Sann by surprise. She stared at him in surprise, her furious expression temporarily subsiding. Slowly, deliberately, she cocked her head.
“You have the ambrosssian,” she said. “Ssshe c-c-cannot protec-c-ct you?”
“She can,” Leo said. “But Karran can’t be everywhere. If I go somewhere and she protects me, there’s no one here to protect my servants and coin.”
Sann laughed and squirmed on her chair. “Buy a hound,” she replied.
Leo turned to go.
It wasn’t a ruse. He was in no mood for such things and he’d endured enough insults from Terras to bother with such things in his own home. He’d barely gone a step, however, when the drakonid hissed in sudden frustration.
“Wait,” she snapped. “I… apologizzze. Do not leave.”
Leo turned to regard her again. “You’ll do it then?” he asked.
Sann hesitated, squirming again. Her chair was not a comfortable one and judging from the way she sat upon it, she was quickly growing sore.
“Earlier,” she hissed. “You sssaid you reward thossse who work-k-k.”
“I did.”
“Then… how will you reward me?”
Folding his arms, Leo studied her. The hint of desperation in Sann’s voice certainly sounded real enough, but he was not about to lose a hand by trusting her so soon.
“What do you want?” he asked.
“Nothing. Drak-k-konidsss do not ssserve,” she said. Then, as if afraid he might leave before she could continue, she held up a claw. “But… we do protect-c-ct matesss and young. Releassse me and I will ssserve thisss way.”
“You want a mate?” Leo asked skeptically. “I don’t even know where they found you , let alone how to capture another drakonid.”
“No,” Sann said, chuckling. Her upright claw curled toward Leo as her eyes narrowed. “You have c-c-coin, hate, and a fine anger. You will be mate. Thessse are my termsss.”
Leo hesitated. It was one thing to take Karran into his bed, but a drakonid? They were creatures out of ghost stories, a boogieman to frighten young children. He’d have to be mad to even consider the possibility.
“Interesting,” Leo said. “But how do I know that you won’t attack me the second your chains are gone?”
“You c-c-cannot,” Sann admitted. “But I will ssserve my mate. No other.”
Slowly, Leo made his way to the edge of the bed and stared down at the captive drakonid. Up close, he could see the desperation in Sann’s eyes, alongside the rage and the hunger. The sight of them made him even more apprehensive about her proposal—and more eager to have her allegiance.
“Prove it,” he said.
Sann stared up at him, first in confusion and then, astonishingly, in embarrassment. Slowly, with more than a hint of reluctance, she drew back the wings that covered her like a blanket, exposing her pale bluish-white midsection.
Carefully, Leo reached out with a hand and trailed a hand up the drakonid’s side. Sann shivered at his touch but did not pull away, even when his fingers traveled inward to brush her firm, uncovered breasts. Her skin pebbled beneath his touch, all the more so when he purposefully guided his fingers to avoid the outer edges of her navy-hued areolas.
“Did you have a mate before?” he asked, gently squeezing the drakonid’s opposite breast. Doing so forced him to lean dangerously close, but Sann did not appear ready to strike. To the contrary, she almost seemed to be pushing her chest forward for better access.
His question, however, caught her off guard. She looked at him suddenly, expression darkening slightly.
“No,” she said. “But I wasss sssought by many malesss.” Baring her fangs, she leered up at him. “And femalesss.”
“Being sought isn’t the same as being found ,” Leo pointed out. He trailed his hand downward, over the flat expanse of Sann’s stomach and felt the muscles tighten to the point of quivering. “And did any of those males and females find their way here?”
His fingers stopped short, just above the hood of Sann’s clit and began to work the smooth, hairless skin in small, tantalizing circles. The drakonid groaned softly, her hips rising from the chair in an attempt to force his touch lower. Doing so made her tail lash, its narrow tip flicking from side to side before coiling tightly around one of the chair’s legs.
Leo pulled back, leaving only a single finger pressed against her mound.
“I asked you a question,” he reminded her.
Sann glared at him, indignation and arousal warring plainly on her face. In the end, the victor proved obvious when she averted her eyes and shook her head.
“No,” she admitted. “None wasss worthy.”
He could have played it safe. Indeed, Leo’s survival instincts urged him to do precisely that. But some other part of him, the part that had won over Karran and the others, refused to let the issue rest.
“Now look at you,” he murmured. “A proud drakonid, begging a lowly human to touch her. Asking to be his mate. I thought you refused to be a bedslave?”
Sann’s head snapped toward him, her fangs bared. Her wings, too, began to close around her body and halted only at the last second.
“I did not beg!” she snarled.
“But you will,” Leo insisted. He inched his finger lower, the nail just beginning to brush her clit to remind her of his touch. “You asked to serve as my mate. And I asked for proof of your trustworthiness. That is how you will earn it.”
Sann continued to glare at him. And, once again, Leo feared he had pushed too far. After a moment, however, the drakonid stomped her heel against the exposed base of the bed.
“Pleassse,” she mumbled, looking away.
“Call me Master ,” he said. “And you’ll need to do better than that. Please, what?”
He expected Sann to continue resisting his demands. He expected her to scowl and hide her face and growl out some meaningless bedroom platitude.
Instead, the drakonid looked him square in the eyes. The hostility in her gaze continued to lurk around the edges, but the majority of what he saw was, surprisingly, respect. It was as if his unyielding nature had finally earned him the first crumbs of loyalty.
“Pleassse, Massster,” she hissed. “Pleassse touch me.”
Leo grinned down at her.
“Anything for my mate,” he said.
And with that, he touched her. Sann’s response was immediate. Moaning, she bucked her hips upward, straining against her restraints as she struggled to grind her sex against Leo’s fingers. Chuckling, he used his other hand to guide her gently back down into her chair.
“Easy there,” he admonished. “Don’t hurt yourself. It’s not a race.”
Sann scowled but obeyed nonetheless. Her legs spr
ead wider, the claws digging into what remained of the mattress as she braced herself for further touching. In that regard, Leo was careful not to disappoint her. He trailed his fingers down the insides of her thighs, permitting only the skin of his knuckles to brush the drakonid’s glistening folds.
“What are you doing?” Sann demanded impatiently. Her eyes widened anxiously as Leo’s hand stopped, and she added a hasty, “Massster.”
“I’m taking my time,” he explained. Resuming his caress, he dragged a finger delicately up the length of her slit and this time, he allowed the pad of his finger to lightly brush the drakonid’s clit. “You see?”
“But why? Sssex isss sssex. Pleasssure isss pleasssure.”
“Is it?”
“Among drak-k-konidsss, yesss.”
He chuckled again and continued his slow, teasing exploration of Sann’s outer folds. His fingers were already covered with her juices and he could feel the almost magnetic pull of her sex as it craved his touch. Still, it wouldn’t do to give her everything she asked for.
“Well then,” he mused aloud. “It sounds like your kind have been missing out. You might wind up being the first drakonid to ever experience proper lovemaking.”
Sann tried to snort in derision, but Leo had anticipated her response. Before she had a chance, he bore down softly on her clit with a thumb and eased two more fingers into her tight, needy snatch. Sann’s snort caught in her throat as her reply turned to a moan. Her hips began to writhe, urging Leo deeper even as her inner walls squeezed demandingly around the invading digits.
Leo stroked her slowly, hoping that her anatomy would prove similar enough to that of a human woman’s for his techniques to work. And, if the chorus of moans that his intimate caress earned him was anything to go by, it was. Sann bucked against his fingers, her breath coming in short, hiccupping gasps. So enthusiastic was her response that Leo found himself with very few opportunities available. He curled his fingers, teasing spots that he knew would please her, but otherwise allowed the drakonid to pursue her orgasm at her own pace.
That pace, it turned out, was a rather breakneck one. Scarcely a minute after he’d first entered her, Sann’s body stiffened in unmistakable climax. A snarling, moaning cry spilled from her lips as she spasmed and clenched around his fingers, her claws rattling in their restraints. Despite the visible intensity of her peak, however, her wearied legs could not support her indefinitely. She collapsed against the chair a moment later, Leo’s fingers sliding wetly free of her body, and began to pant. Her eyes closed, her wings hanging limply at her sides.
Smiling contentedly, Leo wiped his fingers on part of the shredded blanket lining the bed. He waited patiently for Sann to recover, without permitting his smile to fade.
“Well?” he asked. “Still think pleasure is just pleasure?”
To his surprise, Sann did not scowl or hiss, but rather blushed. Adjusting the chair with her ankles, she drew her legs up upon it and shyly wrapped her wings around herself once more.
“Thank-k-k you, Massster,” she mumbled.
Nodding, Leo reached over and carefully stroked the female’s head. Though Sann stiffened at the touch, she did not pull away as he’d expected.
“I’ll have one of the servants prepare you a room,” he said. “A proper one, this time. No chains.”
Sann’s brow furrowed as she studied him. “You would trussst me? Lik-k-ke that? Without even mating?”
Chuckling openly, Leo lifted the hand he’d used to bring her to orgasm and returned her studious stare. “That’s close enough for now, I think,” he joked. “We can fuck later, when you’re not chained up. And as for trusting you, should I not? Are you still going to attack me?”
This time, it was the drakonid who laughed.
“No,” Sann admitted. “I will not attack-k-k. Asss you sssay, clossse enough for now, Massster.”
“Good,” Leo said. “Welcome to House VanOrden, Sann.”
Chapter Eight
Despite the intensity of his anger, it was mid-afternoon before Leo had a chance to vent it. Nicolo was the first to arrive, and did so with a rather wry smile—no doubt conscious of the irony in being issued summons by one of the slaves he’d sold not two months earlier. In any case, Leo was grateful for the company and in the same breath, dismissed Mihal and ushered the slaver into a private sitting room.
Nicolo sat, but Leo stood. He paced the room, wine in hand, and waited.
“So,” Nicolo said. He’d grown a mustache and occupied himself by straightening it endlessly, since there was no other convenient distraction available to him. “I assume you didn’t bring me here for a social call.”
“Maybe I just wanted to say hello,” Leo said reflexively.
Nicolo snorted and momentarily ceased his fiddling. “Then you’d have simply visited. Though I don’t think Leo VanOrden ever simply visits.”
“I want your advice,” Leo explained.
“And, presumably, someone else’s too? Who are we waiting for?”
“Petre VanAllen. Baron VanAllen, that is.”
Again, Nicolo snorted. Rising, he approached and plucked the wine glass from Leo’s hand, then returned to his former seat.
“Am I to be the only commoner at this little cabal then?” he asked, sipping his stolen wine.
Scowling, if only slightly, Leo folded his arms. “That’s your fault,” he said. “You could certainly afford the title; I doubt Petre and I could match your coffers, combined.”
Smirking from behind his glass, Nicolo lifted his brows.
“I wonder,” he said.
Leo was spared the need to inquire further by Petre’s arrival. The youth wore the same slightly bemused expression as Nicolo, but his was accented by a thin-lipped grimace.
“Leo,” Petre said, “What’s this about? Your slave said it was urgent.”
“It is,” Leo said. “Close the door, would you? I just bought some new servants and I’d prefer to keep this between us.”
“A cabal, indeed,” Nicolo teased. He waited until the door was shut, then rose and offered Petre his hand. “A pleasure to meet you, Baron VanAllen. And my condolences. The name’s Nicolo.”
Petre shook the man’s hand, seemingly without thought, then paused and glanced down at their joined hands. “You’re not a lord?”
“Alas, a merchant only,” Nicolo said. Chuckling, he indicated Leo with the glass in his off-hand. “Apparently, our mutual friend wishes us to join his sinister schemes.”
“Far from it,” Leo interjected, before Nicolo could derail the conversation further. “I just had rather a rather enlightening conversation with Count Terras. And I thought—”
“What did he say?” Petre demanded. “Will he withdraw the challenge?”
“Not exactly,” Leo said. “He offered to do so, in exchange for five thousand sovereigns.”
“Fucking bastard!” Petre roared. He spun violently, shoulders hunching as if searching for something to throw. “I’ll kill the fucker! I don’t care if they hang me, I swear, Terras is going—”
“Petre,” Leo barked, just harshly enough to bring the youth around again. “I promise you, we will deal with him. That’s why I asked you here.”
“How?” Petre growled. “When, Leo? Just tell me what to do.”
Drumming his fingers on his elbow, Leo began to pace. He’d had several hours to think about precisely that, of course. And although he had several half-formed notions about how to proceed, the intensity of Petre’s outburst made him suddenly conscious of precisely how delicate the entire situation was.
“Terras claims that your father took up with one of his maids and fathered a bastard on her,” he said. “The woman is under contract to Terras now. Allegedly, after your father’s death, she approached him with letters promising land, an apprenticeship, and two thousand sovereigns for the child’s upbringing. All signed by your father, of course.”
“It’s a fucking lie!” Petre snapped. “My father didn’t—he would never!
The letters are a fraud!”
“Probably, but—”
“They are!”
“But,” Leo continued, glancing at Petre. “Fraud or not, it doesn’t change anything now. The letters could have nothing more than your father’s seal. But if Terras backs her claim, the courts will take the allegations seriously. That’s why he’s asking for the five thousand.”
“I’ll not pay him a fucking tin penny!”
Again, Leo ignored the interruption and continued. “Additionally,” he said. “Terras seems to think that you’ll pay to protect your father’s name and reputation. He also made certain… insinuations regarding the swiftness of your mother’s marriage to the Martin fellow. He suggested that taken together, the two might raise questions about your legitimacy.
At last, Petre’s fury seemed to have frozen him in place. He stared at Leo, eyes wide but slowly narrowing.
“He wouldn’t dare,” he hissed. “I’ll kill him. I’ll actually kill him!”
“If I may,” interrupted Nicolo. Having seated himself, he now regarded both Leo and Petre with a cocked head and quirked brows. “As interesting as these noble machinations are, I don’t see how I could possibly play a part. Unless you plan on asking for a loan?”
Both men stared at Leo then, and he returned their gazes with a grim smile.
“I plan to destroy Count Terras,” he announced. “And I want the two of you to help me accomplish it.”
“Absolutely,” Petre said.
“Absolutely not !” Nicolo said, with a weak laugh. He glanced between the two of them in disbelief. “Respectfully, my lords, I barely know you. Leo, you’re a good customer and Davin speaks highly of you. But if you expect me to put my neck on the line for the sake of earning a few extra pennies on kobs, you’re stark raving mad.”
“I’m not asking for anything of the sort,” Leo said quickly. “You won’t have to do a thing, Nicolo. Not to Terras, anyway. And in fact, what I have in mind might even help your business.”
“Oh?” Nicolo said. Reclining, he sipped his wine with a smile. “Well, in that case, feel free to continue.”
“The reason Terras is so powerful,” Leo said. “Isn’t because he’s Third Count.”
Baron of Hearts (Master of Monsters Book 2) Page 6
