Sanctum_Saving Setora Read online

  Inside, I heard him whistling and the sound of water splashing. The tune echoed, the way one’s voice did when they were in a rare, fully built bathing room like Damien had.

  I should have turned and left, or at least spoken, but for some reason, I couldn’t. Some inexplicable force held my voice at bay, and I couldn’t make my legs stop moving forward, carrying me into and across his bedroom.

  Concern for Hawk drove me, but if I was being honest, something equally powerful wouldn’t allow me to do the sensible thing and wait until Sheriff was finished whatever he was doing. The man radiated power and authority, and that power drew me like a magnet.

  I stopped at the doors to the bath. One of them stood partway open. I should have turned and walked out, but instead, I froze, transfixed by what I saw beyond the doorway.

  Sheriff was sitting in a large bath, almost a pool that had been low in the floor in the middle of an enormous bathroom inlaid with white marble walls and flooring. Several steps led from the doors into the room, and three more encircled the tub itself. Sheriff stopped whistling, and I watched him lay back against the side of the tub, his long, powerful body in full few of me. His fist moved slowly up and down his huge cock, which looked hard as steel. That single hoop pierced through the end glinted in the torch light.

  My eyes fluttered closed, my heart thudding. Did I have a death wish? I already knew what his belt felt like. If he caught me…

  But an ache had started between my legs and when I opened my eyes, I couldn’t look away. I could only watch his large, tanned fist travel up and down his length. The muscles on his arms and shoulders bunched, making the kaleidoscope of dark, tribal tattoos that covered his skin seem almost alive.

  My mouth watered as I imagined him pushing that cock inside, imagined it was my lips around him, sucking.

  He sped up, and my breath froze in my lungs.

  “Enjoying the view, little spy?”

  My heart migrated into my throat. How did he know I was there? The warning in his voice, the accusation in it made the temperature in the room feel colder.

  Spy. He’d thought that’s what I was the moment I’d been brought to his Grotto, a plant set up to infiltrate this place on Damien’s behalf. It still occurred to me at times, Damien might have planted me and simply not told me.

  Unsure what to say, I put my head back, wishing the floor would swallow me whole. Sheriff craned his head toward me and smirked.

  “Well, come in. You might as well make yourself useful, sweetheart.”

  Useful? The word held all sorts of hidden meaning with the unquenched lust that filled his voice. Hands shaking, I made my way slowly down the steps and toward the tub. Filled with suds, it was large enough for four people to fit comfortably. Some of the walls on the opposite side of the room had reflective, mirror-like surfaces, some of which clearly showed the doorway. So that’s how he’d known I was there.

  He watched my movements as if hypnotized. I stopped a few inches away from the side of the tub at a vantage that put me behind him so that he had to watch me over his shoulder.

  “You stood there watching me jack off, and now you want to play coy? Get over here.” He nodded across the room, indicating for me to stand in front of him. “You want to watch me, you’ll watch me.”

  Not for the first time, an urge to obey this man’s every wish pounded through me, drawing me to him. Drawing me like a month to a flame, and I was sure, if I got too close, he’d burn me to ash.

  Stomach quivering, I walked around the tub until I stood on the opposite side of the room, across from him. The steps led into the tub, but he didn’t indicate I should take them.

  “That’s some gorgeous little number my men paid for.” His nod indicated the dark scarlet cadris that cupped my breasts, the billowy pants. “How much time did you spend on your back to get them to empty their purses on that?” As he spoke, his hand returned to his still hard cock, slowly moving up and down the length in plain view.

  The accusation riled me, probably more than it would have from anyone else. I wished I knew why he got under my skin. I forced my voice to remain even.

  “A slave is not supposed to know such things. It’s improper for her to even think about how much Master chooses to spend.” I wasn’t about to tell him I’d seen the money change hands, or that Damien had taught me how to add the numbers, what different types of zone credits were worth. They’d spent a small fortune on me.

  “But you have no problem spying on your master in a bath. You have a strange sense of propriety, little spy.”

  I let concern for Hawk burn away my anger and the fear that might have otherwise kept me silent. The sooner I said what I came to say, the sooner I could get as far from this dangerous man as possible.

  “I didn’t come here to watch you, Master. I came about Master Hawk. I was worried—”

  “Master Hawk, is it?” I couldn’t tell what the odd lilt in his voice meant. “Hawk is fine, I promise you.”

  “But he’s been up there in that mountain for days. He—”

  “I told you, Hawk is fine.”

  “How—”

  “Shut up and take off your clothes.”

  Of course it wasn’t as though a man like him could just let me go after he’d caught me infringing on his privacy. I’d given him the perfect reason to take what he wanted from his slave now. Like the traitor my body always showed itself to be around him, my sex started to ache anew with the thought.

  Fingers trembling, humiliation burning my cheeks, I slowly unfastened the buttons at the side of the cadris top and opened it.

  Sheriff’s indigo eyes drank in the swell of my breasts, the look in his eyes burning like fire and turning my nipples as hard as cherry pits. I slipped the top off my shoulders, watching his mouth pull into a smirk.

  “Damn, you’re fucking beautiful. Damien’s perfect little spy.”

  “Master, I’m not—”

  “You’re talking. Strip. Let me see that gorgeous pussy.”

  I should have wanted to bolt then, and on some level I did, but something also kept my feet on the floor where they were. Fear, but also something else. Something dark and hot that seared my veins like poison, calling me to let him take what was his.

  Letting the shirt fall to the floor, I undid and slid off my cadris pants, leaving every inch of my body bared to the leader of the Dark Legion, the world’s most infamous road warrior pirates.

  His gaze ate up my long legs, the faint dusting of hair barely covering my sex. In his hand, I saw his cock twitch and he stroked it a little faster. “Turn around. Show me your ass.”

  I closed my eyes. How did this man make me want to give into him, even while humiliation burned in my breast? I turned around. Showing him the backside he’d so recently marked with his belt.

  “Look at that sweet little ass. The welts are gone already. Violets really do heal fast, don’t they?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  “Good. Accelerated healing means I don’t have to wait to whip your ass again, do I, little spy?”

  Oh, Maker, have mercy on me. That belt. The memory of the pain—and the strange pleasure—the way he’d gotten off on delivering it, made me almost sway where I stood. Indignation wouldn’t let me keep my mouth shut. I looked over my shoulder at him, imploring.

  “Master, I’m not a spy. I—”

  “Speak again without my say so, and I will fill your mouth so full you won’t be able to mouth off.”

  With his cock, I knew. My gaze flicked to it for a moment, and I forced myself to focus on his face. My whole body tensed with desperation to make him understand. To somehow appease him, make him trust me. The need was so strong, it made my eyes water. I faced the wall in front of me, head bowed, glad my back was to him.

  “My men have started calling you by name, you know.” I heard the water splashing in a rhythm I couldn’t mistake for his stroking himself. “You have them so addlebrained over you, they use your damn name like a saint’s. Even Hawk i
s turning into a pussy, up there moping because he doesn’t know whether to fuck you silly or flog you for tempting him.”

  “Wait—Hawk is—” I realized I’d disobeyed his rule about talking and silenced. A ray of hope slashed through the darkness this man had cast my world into. Hawk was up there because of me? Something intense and fierce swept through me.

  He did feel for me…

  “It’s true. You have them falling all over themselves to please you. Buying you nice clothes, making you look like a road rat. Trying to get you out of the execution, like they think your sweet little heart can’t take it.”

  The execution. I was afraid this would happen. I wished Pretty Boy and Steel hadn’t gone to him about that.

  “Turn around.”

  I obeyed just as water sloshed. He rose, walking with a masculine grace up the steps and out of the tub. Suds and water dripped off his ropy, muscled body to the marble floor. His eyes burned a path from my face to my sex and back up as he prowled toward me.

  “Hand me the towel.”

  I blinked up at him, for a moment confused at the change in topic. When my brain caught up to his words, I turned, spotting the towel hanging on the wall. I handed it to him.

  But instead of drying himself off right away, he traced my lips with his thumb. “Such a hot mouth. You won’t leave here before you eat my come. And when I’m done with your mouth, I’ll fill your pussy while you scream.”

  He said all this in such a calm, almost soothing voice; it almost reminded me of Hawk. There was a certain matter-of-factness to it. Sweat ran between my breasts, and it had nothing to do with the heat in the room from the bath.

  “Master, I have to return to my chores. I only came about Hawk.”

  His mouth twisted in a smile that was both gorgeous and dangerous all at once. Then the next thing I knew, he slammed me against the wall behind me so hard I cried out, but his hand clamped over my mouth, hard.

  “I told you what would happen if you spoke again.”

  I whimpered, cold, icy fear ripping through me at his sudden aggression. His grip was huge and strong, his frame looming over me, becoming the whole of my world. It hit me then, he could have done whatever he wanted to me and I wouldn’t have been able to stop him.

  The most horrible thing happened then, as his hand pressed harder to my mouth, and he closed my hand around his cock.

  I came. Panting into his palm, trembling like a leaf in a gale, his aggression turning my blood to lava, I came, shuddering, thighs pressing together, milking the orgasm.

  Something wet and hard slid through my palm like steel under silk. I was stroking him; my hand was stroking his cock of its own free will. Well, almost. His hand was guiding me, slow, long glides so that I couldn’t tell how much was me doing it and how much was him.

  Sheriff pressed himself slowly against me, pinning me securely to the wall. He bent his head, his minty breath fanning my neck, then my ear.

  “I told you I would come for you. Now you’ve saved me the trouble and come for me, so I’ll oblige you. Did you like watching me, little spy?” His hand slid away from my mouth. “Lie to me, and I’ll take it out on you in bed.”

  “I didn’t mean to watch you, Master.” My voice trembled on a near sob, but not with fear. With the humiliation of knowing he could see inside me, that he knew I wanted him. This was a trap of my own making, and he was going to seize it for all it was worth.

  “But you did watch me. And you liked it, didn’t you?” His hand slid down my front, fingers gliding slowly through my slick folds. So slick, so wet, his fingers were instantly coated with my come. His other hand kept mine trapped around his cock as he slid himself in and out of it.

  With his eyes boring into mine, his fingers teasing me, I didn’t dare lie to him. I closed my eyes and a tear leaked out of one. “Yes, Master.”

  He let out a low, hungry growl. Two of his fingers plunged into me, hard, his palm slapping my clit. I cried out, head lulling back, body clenching madly around him. Sex tight, squeezing his fingers greedily.

  “Mm, feel that tight, wet pussy, slick with come. Wet for me. Ready for my cock.”

  He slid his fingers out, teased my entrance a little, then rammed them back in. I gave a strangled cry, going up on my tip-toes, grasping at the towel rail on the wall near me. Sheriff’s growl was deep and hungry. He slid fingers out of me and stepped back.

  “This is going to be so much fun. I’m gonna eat you all up and spit you out, sweetheart.” His hand beat on his cock. “If I want you here all day and night, I’ll keep you here, is that clear?”

  All day and night? Maker, help me. I closed my eyes one more time, hating that there was only one response I could give. “Yes, Master.”

  “Good. Now get on your knees and show me what that perfect little mouth is made for.”

  Chapter 11

  Hate’s Poison

  Until now, with the single exception of Damien, I’d never have thought I could hate someone. Damien had pulled it off by betraying me. Now though, I felt something equally strong for Sheriff. There was just one problem.

  The anger directed at the General was mixed with lust so deep it made my knees wobble. In a strange way, knowing he hated me made me hotter. New moisture leaked from my core, and I hoped he couldn’t see it, couldn’t somehow sense it.

  I dropped to my knees before I could fall on them. The hard, marble floor bit into them, making me feel distinctly dirty and trashy, reminding me of my position. Making me slicker.

  “Perfect. Look at you kneeling for your master’s cock.” Sheriff stood there a moment longer, watching me. Sliding his hand up and down his long, thick cock. Moisture leaked from the tip beside that silver piercing, and I wondered how he would taste, how that piercing would feel on my tongue.

  At last, he stalked forward, and when he was right in front of me, he pressed into me. His fingers drove through my hair, holding my head in place, and he rubbed his cock against my face, the whole, hard length of it.

  How his long fingers didn’t get tangled in my hair with all those rings on them, I had no idea. The scent of him inundated me, a pine-fresh soap, and a rich, masculine musk.

  My lips brushed his cock, I hoped, by accident, and he hissed as if I’d burned him. “Lick me before you take it into your mouth.” His voice was a deep, base, animal rumble.

  It made it easier to obey him when I reminded myself I was a slave, there to serve him. That he couldn’t hurt me, when Pretty Boy and Steel—and now, I suspected Hawk—wouldn’t take it well. They were his friends.

  Tilting my head to the side, I flicked my tongue out, up the length of his cock. Sheriff jerked as if the feel of it scalded him, but his cock twitched, and he groaned, his hand on the back of my head gripping tighter.

  “Again.”

  I licked him again, and strangely, the silky, yet hardened feel of him on my tongue, the masculine taste of him, felt right.

  “Again. Don’t stop.”

  So much easier if he’d just shoved himself in and made me suck him, but I knew why he didn’t. He wanted the submission that came with my taking him. My choosing to do it. I licked up and down, letting my lips and tongue trace the curve of his hardness. He let out a low, controlled breath, the sound of a man holding back, while he slowly rocked his hips, so that my lips and tongue slid over him.

  “Such a hot, wet little mouth. Open.” He’d stepped back an inch and pointed the head of his cock for my mouth. I opened without even thinking and he pushed in, a needy thrust. “Show me how you good you are at eating dick.”

  His cock filled my mouth so much it stretched my lips and I moaned, both loving and hating the feel of it. He had a length that threatened to put the head of him down my throat without trying, and that silver piercing felt strange on my tongue, warm and hard like him.

  I obeyed, moving my mouth up and down, licking at him when he loosened his grip my head. He made an approving noise, watching me with heavily-lidded eyes.

  “Lo
ve watching your mouth suck me off. Who taught you to eat a man’s cock? Damien really did teach you everything, didn’t he?”

  I tried to argue this, but he shoved himself in, silencing me.

  “Did you suck Damien’s cock like this?”

  Revulsion twisted my gut at the thought of that man in my mouth. I tried to twist away, but Sheriff gripped my head harder.

  “Don’t stop. Eat it up.”

  My gag reflex worked overtime, and I forced it down. Sheriff grabbed the towel from around his neck and wrapped the length of the cloth around his fists, then slipped it behind my head. He pulled it so that it trapped my head in place.

  “Open your mouth. Let me fuck it.”

  I dropped my jaw. He fucked my mouth hard and fast, the towel trapping my head so I had no choice but to let him use my mouth the way a man uses a woman’s sex. I gagged.

  Instead of spilling down my throat, Sheriff pulled out and yanked my head back, slamming his mouth on mine. His hand gripped my chin, and he tongued me hard.

  “I would have come down your throat, but I don’t want to have to wait to fuck you.”

  Next instant, his hand was around my throat again and he yanked me to my feet. He seized my wrist and stalked into his bedroom.

  When we got inside, I had about a half second to notice two things. One, something strange sat in the middle of his bed that hadn’t been there when I’d been in here last time. It looked like an odd sort of pillow, with a curved part in the middle, and it was positioned at hip level. Second, I saw two straps hanging from the head end of his bed, one from each post. Those, I recognized—leather straps for a woman’s wrists.

  It all happened in moments. Sheriff threw me across his huge canopy bed, spun me onto my stomach. I whimpered, bouncing on the mattress. Quick, with practiced movements, he positioned me so that I lay with my hips in that sunken part of the hip-pillow. As soon as I was in position, I knew what it was. The pillow propped my hips up at the perfect angle for…