Silence. Then she recognized from the sound and a glimpse of clothing that Theo had stepped to the side.
She almost sprang upright only to find Dankyo had his hand on her back. To stand, or not? Wasn’t this done with? The lack of reply to her question stirred thought. No. Disapproval radiated from Theo. Damn. She stayed in position. Dankyo’s hand rested across the burning area on her bottom. So hard to not squirm away. Embarrassing. Intolerable. He’d be looking at her bottom like it was a target, and maybe at where the line of pearls disappeared between her cheeks.
And, oh… Realization dawned.
This was meant to impress on them both their respective places? She hadn’t let it, though, had she? And they knew that. She gritted her teeth, clawed her fingers into her knees. “I’m sorry.”
“Two more, Dankyo. Please. Ready, Claire?”
If Theo wanted her to do this…she had to give to Dankyo a little of what she allowed Theo every single day. She sighed, let her head and shoulders slump the slightest amount. “Yes.”
The device gave a halfhearted buzz as if down there something nibbled on her clit. Not now. Nooo. If it triggered when he hit her, she’d die of humiliation.
The next two smacks were hard enough to sting, but she said nothing. Only waited. For an infinitesimal moment Dankyo left his hand there. The pressure of one finger trailed across her skin before he let her up.
When she straightened Theo was by her side and curled his arm about her waist. “There. Not so bad, was it?”
“No.” She willed her heart to slow. Then she turned to Dankyo. Raising her eyes was difficult, and she had to brace herself inside, found herself bemused by her own reaction. Where’s my courage? She looked up. “Theo said you respected my skills.”
His eyes glittered a second. Not malevolence for once. Appraisal, like he saw her in a new light. Damn him. That had hurt. The man had a hard hand and could snap her in two if he so decided. She felt off-center and took some more slow breaths.
“Are you okay?”
She blinked, amazed.
“Uh, yes. Look. The weapon you’ve got your men using, the sights are inferior.”
For a while, he said nothing. The man could have given a statue lessons in being inscrutable. Then he clicked his tongue twice.
“Very well. What do you recommend?”
“There’s a new parallax sight, experimental, but it’s for night use also.”
From an inner pocket, Dankyo whipped out a notebook and pencil, and gave it to her. Having scribbled down the manufacturer and model, she handed the notepad back. Still expressionless, he tucked it away.
She smiled nervously.
This time he raised his eyebrows a quarter inch.
“There’s something else,” she said, then rushed on before he could do his statue impersonation again. “I noticed from the gyrocopter that you have a problem with the firing arcs of the roof cannons. The trees to the north are in a bad spot.”
Dankyo’s left lower eyelid shimmied.
“Claire,” Theo muttered, “that one’s my fault. I’ve told him they have to stay. My great-grandmother’s buried there.”
“Oh. Really?” She nodded to Dankyo as Theo steered her away and back toward the house. “Uh, thanks for listening,” she called back.
“My pleasure, I assure you.” He flashed a mouth-stretching smile that for a millisecond touched his eyes.
Compared to Dankyo, she was an expert at small talk.
“How are you holding up?” Theo inquired, voice calm and unexcited.
“Perfectly. I think I see what you were getting at. He’d never have listened to me before. It’s changed things.”
He stared. “And how do you feel about him now?”
“I know he can hit hard.” She thought for a few seconds, twisted her mouth. “Truthfully, I guess I do respect him a bit more.”
“Good.”
The device triggered. She hung in limbo for a full minute while Theo waited with hand on her elbow, steadying her. She’d managed a quiet gasp and shudder that time. Taken to the heights yet again by that pulse pulse pulse.
They seemed to take the long way back to the house, past the gardens and the laundry. She learned that just before it triggered, there’d be a little miniature sizzle of energy, and would brace herself, though never quite enough. The shock wore her down. Yet her body wanted more—each time requiring that little extra stimulation, and each time, instead, she teetered, agonized, on the brink of ecstasy. The effort in keeping still and not making a sound exhausted her and made her focus inward. Every part of her body sharpened and fizzed, her nipples swelled, it seemed, to twice their size, and down deep, she caged all the sounds she died to make. Only now and then, a tiny moan escaped her lips. Half the time, over the last hundred yards, she didn’t see where they trod.
Chapter Sixteen