Iron Dominance

“No.” Theo’s single word crackled with menace. “I do not wish your resignation, Dankyo. I wish your compliance with my orders.”

 

 

His eyes on Theo despite the bow, he blinked for a moment or two, then straightened. Dankyo slid the sword back into the scabbard. “Of course. Sir. I always have your safety and best interests at heart. I apologize absolutely for my behavior if it offended you.”

 

“Thank you. Claire is not your enemy, Dankyo. Is that clear?”

 

“Yes. It is clear. Sir.”

 

“Good. Go to bed, Dankyo. These two guards only for my door.”

 

But even she could see the reluctance in how Dankyo responded. And when Theo turned and headed down the corridor, she watched the glitter of hate reappear in Dankyo’s eyes. With her hand held by Theo, she had no choice but to follow, though it felt as if someone aimed a rifle at her back, so vehement was Dankyo’s gaze.

 

Up the curving flight of stairs they went, past the sensual sculpture that had caught her eye an eon ago, along the curved passageway overlooking the foyer, to a double set of doors made of timber and riveted metal.

 

Just inside the doors was a minifoyer. Paintings hung on the walls. A display cabinet was filled with objets d’art. The middle shelf held an oversize pistol she didn’t recognize with a bronzed revolving barrel and a blue steel grip.

 

Theo tugged on her hand.

 

The bedroom was enormous. Two standing voltaic lamps graced either side of a large four-poster bed with posts of ebon and brass inlay. The red and black oriental quilt had been folded back in preparation for sleep. This was a man’s bedroom. No flimsy designs or pastels, no delicate ornaments, everything looked solid and perfectly capable of withstanding a rocket attack.

 

She stood there, unsure of where to go, as Theo went to a red lacquered suitcase sitting on a low table, clicked it open, and rummaged inside.

 

To her right, golden curtains framed a curved window jutting out past the line of the outer wall like a cockpit on a gyrocopter. The glass was sectioned into four pieces by metal rods. She strolled over. Outside was the airship, a giant darkened balloon outlined in moonlight, anchored by ropes to the grass.

 

The lamps in the room extinguished. Glass and metal reflected moonlight; the room was a soft, silvered darkness. Measured footsteps came closer. Theo hugged her from behind, his chin beside her ear, surprising her a moment, until she remembered how much taller he was than her. Her eyelids lowered a little. Excitement stirred the hairs along her arms. What is he planning?

 

“Beautiful, isn’t she?” He ran his hand down her side, the silk softly hissing, then he tucked a finger into the pajamas’ waistband. “Almost as beautiful as you. I thought you might like to change into something more interesting.”

 

She caught his hand before he slipped it farther inside her pants. More interesting?

 

“You want me to stop?”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

“Let me show you. If you want me to stop, you know what to say. Yes?”

 

She swallowed. “Yes.”

 

He freed his hand, undid the tie. The pants fell to her ankles in a susurration of cloth. With his lips kissing her jawline then the hollow of her neck, he crept his left hand down the opening of her shirt, popping the buttons one by one. Transfixed, she let him, only tilting back her head to offer her neck.

 

“I find…” he said, biting her and licking down the side of her neck. She shuddered, and her * clenched. Instinct owned her. She sighed and moved her buttocks back against him, feeling that hardness again. What would it be like to have a man inside me? “That your strength appeals to me.”

 

“My strength?” He shifted behind her, pulled her head onto his shoulder, and slowly kissed up to her cheekbone and across, then near each eye, making her shut them. She kept them that way. Without the distraction of sight, every touch seemed more potent. And he touched everywhere, as fleeting as a firefly, grazing his fingertips on breast and belly and thigh, then below her nipples, close enough to arouse them to hard points. When he stepped away, she swayed, lost without his caresses.

 

“Yes. You’re strong, self-contained. Aren’t you, Claire?”

 

She shook her head. “Maybe.” Right now, she didn’t want to think.

 

“Except now, with me. Controlling you, like this, means so much more. Keep your eyes closed.”

 

She did, feeling the seconds ache with promise. That he liked her strength was somehow…intoxicating, because already, she liked the idea of surrendering. What will he do next?

 

“That’s my girl. It’s not that difficult, is it?” His voice teased her, amused yet filled with a fierce satisfaction.

 

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