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Stolen (The Blueblood Stories Book 1) Page 10


  When it was obvious I wasn’t going to respond, Drake pulled me close to him, so that once again our skin was touching. I tried to squirm away, but it was no good — he simply held me tighter. When I conceited defeat, I heard him let out a little sigh. Next second his hand was tracing tight circles on my arm.

  “Besides,” he said, more to himself than to me, “if your family was wealthy and nearby, surely someone in the village would recognize you. I’ve asked — asked the villages if they have any knowledge of you and they all say the same thing — they’ve never met you. Hmm, you are a mystery my little rebel.”

  “As you say.” Without meaning to, I looked down. My eyes locked on his manhood and I blushed, focusing instead on a tattoo of two black lines running the width of his leg. “Can I ask you something, master?” I said, giving myself a little shake. “Why did Spinton attack Carnell? Surely you have enough land.”

  “It’s not a matter of land — it’s about power. The high master wants to rule all people south of Spinton. We took Kragger quickly; they were a simple people. Next was Massion; their armies were tall but with the magic of the brand, their leader fell quickly and so now we are here.”

  “And how did you overcome the bluebloods?” I asked, speaking so quickly I was afraid that my eagerness might give me away.

  “I’ve already told you, I wasn’t there for the battle.”

  He looked at me sideways and my heart hammered in my chest. It was as though he could see right through me. The more he peered at me, the more I found my eyes watering. What was happening? Without thinking, I dived into the water, re-emerging at the opposite side of the bath. The distance gave me enough time to recompose myself.

  “You don’t fool me Nat,” he said to me from across the bath, just as my heart plummeted. “I know you aren’t accustomed to being at a man’s beckon call, but let me give you a little piece of advice. In this village, I’m in charge and you would do well to remember that. You may see the Spinton army as a horrid force, but I am nothing — nothing, compared to some of the men I have met. There are those who would have taken you the first night they laid eyes on you. Some men take pleasure in ruining women.”

  “So, you’re a white knight then?” I asked. “Some sort of hero?”

  He growled and moved over to where I was swimming. “No. I’m no white knight. But I am a master and that’s the second time in the last few minutes that you’ve failed to address me as such. Where I’m from, being a master demands me the respect of my men; they’re obligated to obey me, brand or not. But all men are owed the respect of women.”

  “So, because I’m a woman and you’re a man, I’m supposed to do everything you say? I’m supposed to be a thoughtless, mindless beast and give myself to you? Is that about right?”

  “It’s the Spinton way. The man protects his flock. Should he not expect unconditional loyalty in return?”

  “What you’re talking about isn’t loyalty.”

  Drake sighed. “I’d hoped I wouldn’t need to punish you, but I can see that you are stuck in the old Carnell ways.”

  “Oh, you’re right . . . Master Drake. There’s nothing like a good punishment to foster trust. Did they teach you that when you were learning to become a master?”

  I knew my words would anger him, but I couldn’t help myself. I finally understood the Spinton ways and yet, I couldn’t understand or believe that Drake agreed with them. He had shown me kindness, proved that he could be forgiving, and yet here he was, preaching that because he was a man, I was supposed to give myself to him, body and soul.

  “You know what your problem is Nat, you’re so stuck in your backwards Carnell traditions, that you don’t even allow yourself to want things.”

  I snorted. “You think I want you?”

  “I didn’t say that — you did.”

  My heart was beating so fast, I couldn’t think properly. Drake was confusing me. How had the conversation changed so fast?

  “Where I’m from, women don’t hide their emotions; they offer themselves to a man if they desire it. We don’t form monogamous relationships; the man is at the top of the household and his women all serve him in exchange for his protection and affection.”

  “I don’t want your protection.”

  “That might be true, but I can see there is something you want of me.”

  “You think I want your affection? Seriously?”

  “We’ll see,” he whispered, moving right in front of me, his large green eyes boring into me.

  The water was so deep, I had to stand on my tippy toes. His eyes found mine and I looked up, waiting. Wordlessly he reached for me, raising his hand from the water to brush down my arm. When he reached my wrist, he held onto it. I wrenched my hand away at once.

  “You don’t have to be afraid of your desires,” he said, reaching for my leather collar and caressing my neck. “I can make it easy for you.”

  I tried to banish the thoughts of longing as his fingers danced across my skin. Every single touch brought waves of desire to the surface, made even more powerful by the hungry look in his eyes. Soon his fingers moved up my face, tracing my lips.

  “I want you too,” he whispered.

  My eyes shot open and I moved away. Instead of reaching for me, he pushed forwards, pinning me in a corner of the bath. He leaned towards me, all the while keeping his eyes locked on mine. He was so close, I thought he might kiss me. I waited for the gesture, not knowing what I would do if it happened. When he was an inch away, his hand moved under the water, gently caressing my breasts. His fingers were warm in the cool bath and sent tingles of anticipation through me.

  I had to fight with the desire to wrap my arms around him. He simply continued to stare at me, inches away, his eyes drinking in my every expression. When his hand glided over my nipple, an involuntary moan escaped my lips. At once his eyes widened, just as the smallest of grins tilted the corner of his lips. After that, all my energy was focused on remaining still.

  He continued to trace circles across my skin, draping his callous fingers up from my breasts and towards my neck, only to repeat the process. I tried to fight with my desires, but it was impossible. Soon his hand moved down my stomach, resting on my thigh. I was completely still then. My whole body was trembling. The seconds stretched on as he played with my thighs, tracing his hand up to my belly button and back down again.

  “Do you want me to stop Nat?” he asked.

  When I said nothing, he grabbed my arm, pulling me through the water so that I was sitting on his lap. The water between us seemed to vanish as my buttocks came to rest on his thighs. His arms locked around me tightly.

  “I don’t know that I have wanted anyone as much as you,” he said, reaching his spare hand down so that it rested on my lap.

  I couldn’t bring myself to speak. He had used his feet to hook around my ankles, spreading my legs wide while his fingertips danced high on my thigh, towards my most intimate region. The seconds stretched and I felt him growing hard, his erect member soon pulsating beneath me.

  When his finger brushed over my private region, I was suddenly reminded that I had been waxed. His breathing fastened when his hand delved between my folds.

  “I don’t know that I have enough self-control,” he whispered, and soon his spare hand was pressed against my stomach, holding me in place, while the other hand continued to drape along my most intimate region.

  Not that he needed to hold me down; I was lost to desire and euphoria. When he found my clitoris, I gasped as he applied gentle pressure, tracing very tight circles as he focused on the little nub. I couldn’t help arching my back. It was involuntary, instinctive, and I hated myself for doing it.

  “Even with the water I can feel how excited you are,” he said, gliding his finger up and down. “Do you want me to stop?”

  I didn’t respond, simply sat there, listening to my heart beating loudly in my chest, each movement of his finger bringing wave after wave of pleasure to the surface. Soon he was focusing only on my clit. He began pacing around, sending tendrils of electricity through my body. Suddenly my fists were tight balls and just when I thought I couldn’t stand it anymore, he released me.

  He moved so that he was in front of me, his eyes locked on mine. He studied me as though I were an experiment. All I wanted was to dive into his arms. I wanted him . . . no . . . I needed him.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, a smile turning the corner of his lips. “Is there something you want?”

  I couldn’t bring myself to answer. He smirked and moved towards me, wrapping my legs around his waist before pinning my arms behind my back, pressing them against the sandstone walls of the bath. I ground myself into him and was rewarded when his finger found my clit again. He started tracing the little nub, expertly circling it, drawing more and more energy from me until . . .

  He stopped again, and my eyes widened in confusion.

  “Tell me,” he breathed.

  Still I couldn’t bring myself to speak. Over and over again he teased me in this way. Bringing me right to the point of release, only to leave me wanting. Soon I was arching into him every time he found my sweet spot, my body betraying my desires. Everything around me faded away. No other sense except touch existed.

  “Tell me what you need,” he said, whispering into my ear. “Tell me what you want.”

  He lashed his tongue out so that it touched my ear lobe then took the whole thing into his mouth, sucking hard. I didn’t respond. Pulling my arms, he pinned me so that I was sitting on his lap again, his hand pressed against my stomach. His ever-growing member was hard beneath my buttocks. It was an impossible situation. I did want what he offered, needed it almost, but there was no way that I could tell him this. Was there?

  “Tell me,” he growled
, tracing my clit temporarily as his teeth came down hard against my ear lobe.

  Jumping in surprise, I let out little moan but still I didn’t answer. The hand pinning my stomach moved up to trace around my breasts, holding the gentle flesh until he found my nipple. With a firm pinch he held onto the tender bud, breathing hard in my ear as he waited for my instructions. The pain was strong. I made to move away from him but his grip around my ankles kept me rooted to the spot. A second later his fingers found my clit again and I ground myself into him, no longer in control of my body.

  “Just say it and I will give you release,” he said, tracing his tongue down my shoulder, bringing water into his mouth only to push it over my collar bone. “Tell me you want it — you need to admit it to me but mostly, you need to admit it to yourself.”

  “Please,” I said, the word escaping me without my consent.

  “Please what?” he asked, pressing on my clit so that he took me right to the point of release before withdrawing.

  “I want you,” I said, too lost in the moment to feel the ashamed embarrassment I knew would follow.

  And he did just as he had promised. His fingers delved to my clit, circling it so fast, I thought I would pass out. When the pleasure was too much, I bit down hard on my lip and then let out a scream of ecstasy. But he didn’t stop and soon the pleasure was too much, and I tried to move away. He kept his feet locked around my ankles, holding me close to him with his spare hand resting on my belly.

  Still with his finger dancing across my clit, my whole body suddenly exploded again. The electricity was still shooting through my body when his hand left my stomach, moving instead to my face. He pulled my neck, forcing our eyes to lock together. I could tell he was hungry to see my expression — knew that he wanted to watch the pleasure he had given me. As his eyes drank in my orgasm, shocks of euphoria spilled across me in every direction, breaking down my walls of inhibition.

  When it was over my toes curled and I crumpled into Drake’s outstretched hands, completely spent. He reached out a hand to trace circles over my arm. I didn’t even blink . . .

  Neither of us spoke as we left the bath. Wordlessly, Drake handed me a towel and I wrapped it around myself quickly. Inside my mind was a mess. What had happened? How had I let it happen? And worst of all, why had I enjoyed it? I was too ashamed even to look at my reflection as we walked past the bath and back towards the loft.

  When we were back in the loft, I realized I had no clothes to wear. The fabric tendrils had remained by the side of the bath and I was clutching the towel like a lifeline.

  “I had the seamstress make you something to wear earlier,” he said, surprising me with his gentle tone. “As you are now mine, I don’t want you mistaken as part of the harem.”

  And there he went again . . . defining me as his property. My jaw clenched. Reaching into the cupboard, he pulled out a dress. It was the same design as the dress I’d had on earlier, but the fabric was a rich gold with a dark blue collar and there was a large symbol on the back. I studied the symbol, recognizing it immediately as the same one tattooed on his back.

  “This is my family crest,” he said, moving over to me, dress in hand. “It’s a Pegasus.”

  “Pegasus?”

  “A winged horse.”

  “You have flying horses in Spinton?”

  “No,” he said, laughing, and for the first time since I’d known him, a smile turned the side of his face. It wasn’t a lustful smirk, or a cheeky grin. It was genuine — real, and made me feel a happiness that I could not account for. But then Drake’s face fell, as though he were remembering something sad. “The Pegasus isn’t real — it’s just a mythical creature. My family used to be horse trainers, so I took the symbol as my crest.”

  “So, you went from catching brumbies to taking up swords against neighboring kingdoms,” I spat. “Your parents must be so proud.”

  I wasn’t sure why my mood shifted so quickly. Perhaps it was that Drake had shown a little of himself to me and I’d been surprised that what I found wasn’t horrid. Perhaps I just needed to remind myself that he was a monster and was keeping me here against my will. Or, perhaps I couldn’t admit that what had happened in the bath, was something that I wanted, or worst . . . enjoyed.

  “Put this on,” he commanded, moving over to me and tugging my towel away.

  At once my hands flew to cover myself. In some small way, I was relieved. Yes — he was still a monster. “Yes, Master Drake,” I said, my tone suddenly icy.

  “That will be the next lesson you learn,” he said, moving my hands so that they were held up high in the air and he could put the dress over them, “to be accepting of your body in my presence. Unfortunately, there’s no time for that now. Jader will be arriving any moment.”

  Chapter Eight

  When Drake was happy with my appearance, I was forced to dress him — something I had never done for anyone, let alone a naked man. The experience was intimate and horrific, though not nearly as humiliating as what had happened in the bath. I completed the task with as much grace as I could muster, and for good reason. I didn’t want to give him any excuse not to bring me with him, while he met with the high master. Nothing mattered more to me than finding out what had happened to my family and I knew that the leader of Spinton would be able to give me that information.

  “Now,” he said sternly, as we walked down from the loft, “I expect you to show respect while you’re in the presence of High Master Jader.”

  “So, I can be disrespectful when he’s not around?”

  Without warning he grabbed me, holding my waist firmly as he pressed my back against the stone wall of the hallway. A stifled scream escaped my lips and I searched his blazing eyes for some recognition of humanity. To my surprise, rather than fury, I saw fear.

  “My patience is not without limits,” he growled. “High Master Jader on the other hand — he has none. He will not tolerate one ounce of disrespect.” His grip loosened slightly. “If you anger him, it’s his right to punish you . . . he’s the high master. And what do you think he’ll do to you? A few hours in the kitchens peeling spuds? No —he’ll tie you up and take what he wants from you, and take and take and take, until there’s nothing left. And it won’t be like in the bath where you pretend not to enjoy yourself so that you can keep your virtue. Nor will it be like how I tell you to call me master and when you don’t I pretend that you aren’t disrespecting me, so that I don’t have to punish you. With him, it’s not a game — do you understand me?”

  “Yes, Master Drake,” I said, trying to stop my hands from trembling.

  “Just make sure you don’t catch his eye,” he warned, reaching up to trace his hand down the left side of my cheek, where Potrick had hit me. “Getting you out of trouble with Catena and Potrick is one thing, but I won’t be able to protect you from Jader. In Spinton, if a high master wants something, he gets it. Perhaps I should leave you in the loft.”

  “No,” I said quickly. “Master Drake, I promise; I’ll behave.” I nodded firmly, trying to convince him of my sincerity. There was no way I could risk missing this meeting. I had to find out what had happened during the invasion.

  “Do not make me regret this,” he said.

  When Drake released me, I couldn’t hide my confusion. Had he been trying to keep me safe this whole time? Was it possible . . . could he really care about me? Was he even capable of that?

  The entire courtyard had been prepared for the high master’s arrival. Large ornate flowers and floating candles had replaced the soap suds in the bath tub. Night had fallen, and with all the little lanterns placed throughout the courtyard, my prison appeared almost whimsical.

  All manner of food was on offer. The girls from the harem were sitting in chairs by the side of the bath, playing string instruments or else singing. With a pang, I wondered if poor Molsa had slaved away to get the place looking so good; undoubtedly Fluna wouldn’t have done much to help.

  When we entered the courtyard, the chatter died down immediately. The girls in the harem stared up at us — no — they weren’t looking at Master Drake . . . they were looking at me.

  “Excellent work Catena,” commended Drake, moving over to the table where Catena was arranging some flowers.