“A St. Andrew’s cross,” said Theo. “Or crux decussate. I haven’t had occasion to use it for some time.” He smacked her bottom as he swung around, and she jumped at the flare of sensation vibrating into her pussy. He deposited her standing up in front of the cross.
“There.” He pushed until her back and tied wrists touched the cool padded leather. “Stay.”
She looked at the strong features of his face, the heavy lips, iron-hard cheekbones and jaw, the stark black eyebrows above those compelling eyes, and sucked in a breath for strength before nodding.
He bent and kissed her, one hand at the side of her neck, thumbing her jugular furrow, toying with her skin. His mouth squashed down just enough to trap her against the leather. She melted into the cross, and only the knee he placed between her legs kept her upright. He took her mouth, as brutal and methodical as an army taking a fortress.
When he moved his hands behind her and released her wrists from the lace, she did nothing. Only waited to see what he was planning. When he pulled her cuffed wrists up to clip them to chains on the beams above, she let him, trembling as her arms were stretched up high. He slipped his hand between her legs, slid fingers along her cleft, then around her clit, leaving a cooling trail of her moisture.
“I think you like my cross.”
With him inches away, doing that, no wonder she was aroused. She squeezed her thighs together.
He kissed her again, before buckling a leather strap across her hips and below her breasts and then kneeling to fasten her ankles to leather cuffs at the base to the cross. His light yellow shirt stretched tight across his back while he worked there. If her arms were free, she might have run her hands over him. The chains above gave very little when she tugged. He’d pulled everything snug, shortened the chains just right to make her feel totally restrained, unable to do what she wanted. Her clit felt swollen and hot, as if her body centered there. She shivered at the building tension.
Theo ran his hands up her thighs as he slowly stood. He kissed either side of her mound and belly button, then rose to his full height and went around behind, where she couldn’t see. A double bed covered with a royal blue quilt was to her left against the outer bulkhead. The bathtub glass area dropped away a foot to her right.
The wind howled for a few seconds as it swept past the airship’s hull, and the recessed glass hummed.
“Don’t be scared. You’ll be moving in a second.”
She tensed as something clicked rapidly and the cross tilted back and swung out across the glass. When it stopped with a clung, she lay on her back, spread-eagled above the window, the padded limbs of the cross and the strut behind her head supporting her. It took her heart a while to slow.
Theo appeared at her side, gazed down at her while caressing her forehead. He’s standing on the glass. He trusts it not to break. She tried to see past him. A long crank handle stuck out just beyond his shoulder.
“This used to be a gun platform. I had it adapted.” Crow’s feet crinkled at his eyes. He walked around her, out of the window tub, past her head, and as he went he slid fingers under the restraints, checking the cuffs and chains. “Wouldn’t want you to fall off this,” he muttered.
She closed her eyes a moment, striving for calm. This position on the cross rang alarms. She could barely move a muscle. When she opened her eyes, Theo was there, and he stroked his thumb across her lower lip.
“Are you okay, Claire? Take a breath. I won’t do anything you don’t want.”
That somehow helped. She had a say.
“What are you going to do…to me?” And saying it that way, saying to me put the control back in his hands. She didn’t mind. Her pussy clenched at the flare of lust in his eyes.
“I’m going to shave your little pussy until it’s smooth as a gun barrel. And then I’m going to fuck you there. Does that suit you?”
Oh, yes.
She quivered and got her mouth working enough to say, in a voice that shook and dropped into a whisper at odd moments, “It suits me, though…we could’ve done this elsewhere.”
His brow furrowed at that. “You think so?” Then he leaned over and fisted her hair, biting her neck in a most rapacious way, up into the hollow beneath her chin. His hand wandered between her strapped-open legs, and his fingers speared through her juices, into her entrance, and deep into her tunnel.
“Unh.” The suddenness shocked her. Today, slow and steady had gone out the window. Though hopefully not through the one at their feet.
He hooked those fingers upward, pumping, discovering some new delicious spot. She gasped and arched her back against the leather strap. Another pump lingered on that spot, and she writhed, wanting those fingers moving. More. When he stopped and pulled out his fingers, then stood, merely watching her, she blinked up at him, openmouthed.
He smiled. “I think this way is worth it, and so do you.”
All that to prove his point? Oh. The spot inside her pulsed. Maybe I should argue some more.
Then he ducked away and came back with yet another device made by Henry—all metal and glass and cogs going clickety click. After an alarming glimpse of a row of little jaws at the front, she could only endure as Theo hooked up a long air pressure hose from the wall, and proceeded to shave her pussy.
The cold metal teeth made her jump as they cut her pubic hair. With her legs tied in a V, he could see everything down there.
He continually played with her clit and pussy and sometimes dipped a moistened finger into her nether hole while peering up to see how she was doing—still with a smug look on his face—and that only made her squirm and squeal. The man was insufferable, and now, she ached so much down there, she would explode if he didn’t let her come soon.
“There,” he declared. “Done. Now that looks so pretty and…hmm.” He slid a moistened finger along and over the swollen bump of her clit. “Yes. Ready for me.”
Panting, she craned her neck to see where he went and what he did.
The device set aside, Theo approached to stand beside her head and retrieve a leather strap from somewhere beneath. He laid it across her mouth, settled it between her lips, and buckled it down, pressing her head back into the padding and effectively gagging her.
She poked her tongue against the leather, swallowed. Why did he gag her?
But he said nothing and went over to the crank mechanism. She stared upward. The ceiling looked a long way away.
“Prepare for another move, dear. You can’t fall off, so relax.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. What is this? Musical crosses?
The beams under her tilted sideways until she looked at wall, not ceiling, and then kept on rotating until the cross stopped with her looking down at the glass, watching clouds curl past below. The leather gag took the weight of her head, pressing at the corners of her lips.
Freakin’ hells and heavens above. She was upside down, and the only things holding her on were the chains and the straps on her body and spread limbs. She heard clothing being unbuttoned and tossed away, heard footsteps, and saw Theo’s bare legs back there, between her legs, his hands under her thighs.
“I don’t think you need arousing, do you?”
Those words sounded ominous. She tried to talk, but only a gargled sound emerged.
He thrust into her in one long move that threatened to split her in two. Joy, not pain, made her clamp down on him. The pleasure ratcheted up as he rocked out and in, slapping into her, in time with his roving fingers squeezing her clit and stimulating her nipples. And oh, her nipples stood out like bullets, stiff and throbbing. The clouds below, the ten thousand foot drop—all was forgotten.
“Ah!” Pleasure curled like a clock spring overwound a billion turns. Scrunching hard and tight, curling up her toes, making her body twist—she’d waited so long, and he’d teased her so much she couldn’t have cared if she were upside down at the bottom of the sea. Her toes arched again. She cried out past the gag.
That was when he stopped, not the th
rusting, just the movement of his fingers. He released her nipple and clit and clasped her hips for purchase, then slammed into her. Her heart drummed. Her inner thighs were slick with juices, and his legs rubbed on them as he slid down and back. She needed him.
Writhing was futile—the straps cinched her tight—but she tried, gasping moistly into the gag, slewing her hips that tiny bit, striving to push closer to him.
He put his hands back on her, in the right places, squeezing her clit and holding. He grunted, slammed in up to his balls. It was all she needed. She screamed into the gag until her throat was raw and aching. The room vanished. Fire tore through her in a thousand body-shaking bursts. Theo came, and the jets of his cum pulsing in her vagina triggered more spasms, while her wrists twisted, and her thighs pressed in vain against the cuffs and straps.
She had tears in her eyes when he let her down. He helped her to the bed; then, as she lay there trying to recall how to move, he went to the bathroom and returned with washcloth and a basin of water.
“Stay there,” he told her, as if otherwise was possible.
Afterward, when they lay in each other’s arms under the quilt, she dared to ask him, “Which part was the punishment?”
“Sir,” he said, quietly, reminding her. A pause as he gathered his thoughts. “The shaving of your pussy.”
“But I enjoyed that, sir.”
“Tying you above my window then.”
“I enjoyed that too.” She couldn’t help giggling. He’d forgotten.
He rose onto his elbows. “Insolent one.” And that made her laugh even louder.
“Now you’ve done it.” Chuckling, he wrestled with her until he turned her onto her stomach, then swatted halfheartedly at her bottom. “There and there! Punishment done.”
She giggled again. Which meant another smack, but it was worth it.
In the night she awoke and found she’d curled up to his warm side, in the shadow of his muscled arm. His breathing came steady as a tide washing in and out. She lay there listening for a long time, being comforted, feeling secure, before drifting off to sleep again.
When she next awoke, it was to the jars and clangs of the airship docking. Still nighttime—the floor window was dark. With the room lit by a dimmed voltaic lamp near the recessed entrance, she studied Theo. He snored quietly, lying sprawled on his back among the crisp white sheets. A tuft of dark hair at his armpit tempted her. Did she dare?
At the first foray of her fingers in his armpit, his opposite hand snaked across and snagged hers.
“What are you doing, insolent one?” Theo’s eyes glinted at her from slits. A hint of something dangerous lurked there.
She froze. Then temptation won out again. “We’ve arrived, and I needed to wake you. So…” She twisted her hand, aiming for the place to break his grip, between his finger and thumb. No luck. He was quick, too quick, without her resorting to sharp time. She grinned cheekily. This was fun, teasing him.
“By tickling me?”
He surged up with a roar, lunging for her other wrist and striving to flip her over. For once she resisted, testing him, using her knowledge to keep him off balance. They wrestled for a flurry of seconds, turning the sheets into a tangled morass. This close, without either wanting to hurt the other, Theo’s strength won out, and she ended up beneath him, her arms pinned at her back, knees crammed up under her stomach.
Her breasts heaved, rubbing her taut nipples on the sheet.
“And now,” Theo declared, breathing hard, “apologize. You do not tickle your master.”
My master? Oh, that sounds good. With her head jammed sideways and half under a pillow, it was difficult to talk. “Never,” she answered gleefully, wriggling a bit in a last-ditch attempt to get free. “Can’t make me.”
He growled. “You’ve sealed your fate.” He shook her.
The threat in his words sent her body quivering and robbed her of any will to resist.
Keeping his hold on her still, he wrapped and tied a twisted cloth, perhaps his trousers, about her wrists, then nudged her knees apart and took her from behind. This was no intricate seduction. Fast and brutal, yet she plunged into arousal. Wetness trickled into, then flooded her slit until she groaned at each thrust.
Theo laughed. “Don’t think you’re going to come. Not until I’ve had you at least twice.”
She groaned again in frustration.
“Will you tickle me again?” he demanded, slapping into her balls-deep, before twisting up her hair and lifting her head back.
She panted as she spoke. “No. Maybe. I don’t know. Oh. Please. Move. Sir.”
“Ah. I can see this will be fun.”
Though he made her wait for her own pleasure and did indeed take her using every orifice, before allowing her to come, by the end, she was left satiated and flopped across the bed. His love bites went from neck to buttocks, and she ached deliciously. The bed dipped, then sprang back as Theo left to ring for breakfast.
Heavens, she thought, dazed. If this was Theo at his worst, she never wanted to leave him. She wondered, with a little delightful trepidation, how else she might tease him and how far she could go.
Chapter Twenty-two
“We’re docked.” Theo reached across the table and poured coffee into her cup. The steam rising hinted at some strange flavor, and she sniffed suspiciously. One side of his mouth curved up. “From Constantinople.”
“Hmm.” She wrapped the long sleeve of her borrowed black dressing gown out of the way, lifted the blue and white porcelain cup, and sipped. Ew. “Constantinople? How much camel dung goes in?”
He roared with laughter, and she couldn’t help grinning at the sight of him rocking back in the cane chair. Life was good when she could laugh, or watch Theo do so.
He wiped his eyes before pushing the plate of fruit pastries and croissants over. Now they looked yummy.
“Maybe these instead then? I guarantee no camel dung.”
After she’d moved two of them onto her plate, he caught her hand and raised it to his lips for a kiss. “Thank you for coming, Claire. You’ve made this a far more enjoyable journey. You’ll have to stay on board and amuse yourself for a few days. There’s a small library here.”
He’d remembered. Pleasure spread through her in a warm glow. He still held her fingers, so she maneuvered them around. He let her pull his hand to her lips to return the kiss. His hand was heavy, his skin smelled awesome as always, and she couldn’t resist giving a lick and then a nibble.
“Hey. I need my fingers.”
“I know.” She tilted her head to hold his palm against her cheek. “Thank you for this.”
“For letting you come with me?”
“For everything. For just being you. I’m so lucky to have you.”
His fingers curved and cupped her chin as he propped his elbow on the table. “And I you. I love how you obey me, Claire, and giving you pleasure.”
She blinked, said quietly, “And I love obeying and…and wondering what you’ll do to me next.” Loved putting her hands in his and surrendering. She’d learned a little of why this appealed to her. The pleasure was only a part of it. The way he commanded her was his second gift, and one she treasured as much as the other. She put her hand to where he held her chin and slipped her smaller fingers underneath his.
“Somehow I knew this.” He smiled. “Once this bill is repealed and you’re officially human, I’m going to keep you, my little bodyguard, by my side wherever I go. Always.”
Always? She felt a quiver of happiness inside. Please, let this all come true. I want to be with this man so much it hurts to imagine anything else.
He moved her head slowly, side to side. “Your answer?”
“Yes, sir.” Always and forever.
For three days, she lived in the Final Rebuttal, knowing if she set foot on the ground outside, she faced execution. Theo returned whenever he wasn’t obligated to attend parliament, sharing with her what was happening outside. She could feel their relationshi
p cementing, enfolding, deepening. It was thrilling and satisfying all at once.
On the third day, Theo bounded up the airship’s corridor, his brown coat flaring behind him, and swept her into his arms.
“Done! Love! Done!” He kissed her, swung her about. “The bill is repealed. Tomorrow we’ll go explore the city. And tomorrow evening is the presidential ball.” His eyes changed, and he raised her chin, studying her intently. She wondered what he held back.
“After the ball is the president’s private function. There I shall introduce you to those friends I spoke of. We will have to visit Hinchcliff and Co. for something special.”
Ah. Those friends. Arousal dampened her panties; her stomach clenched. His friends—of similar persuasion.
Halfway down the steel outer steps, she stopped. She’d dressed sensibly in slim-leg red trousers, white shirt, and black jacket.
The airship field stretched away in the morning light. At one end were sprawling brick, steel, and glass offices, and at the other, backlit by an orange horizon, were low sheds and barbed wire fences. Smoke rose skyward in small tufts from a distant green and orange airship. Nothing remarkable, if it wasn’t for the men running away from it at full tilt.
Just as one screamed a warning, a curl of flame licked from the rear of the airship. Theo and Dankyo had reached the ground below her and swung their heads at the sound. Too slow.
She clicked over into sharp time, leaped feetfirst off the steps, aiming to reach the bottom and land in front of Theo. The faster, the better. The ground drifted up to meet her. Wind fluttered her shirt.
Her boots thumped into the grass. Theo and Dankyo’s mouths moved, but nothing had been said yet. At the airship the flame blossomed into a rolling fireball. Black specks whirled in her direction. Snatching up the round lid from a rubbish bin, she swept in front of the two men. A blurred ringing fed into her ears—sound lengthened by sharp time.
Iron Dominance Page 20
