Had he not already been as hard as he could ever remember being, her response would have increased his state. Mainly because of all the things he desired to do to her, and knowing she would let him do them as he saw fit. It was a heady aphrodisiac.

He drew a soft pattern over her lush lips, short and tracing. Then he pressed his finger at the seam. Without being commanded to, she opened her mouth and took his finger onto her tongue.

“Suck on it,” he breathed as he slid his finger in and out of her mouth slowly. She did as he requested, her mouth providing a gentle suction. “Harder,” he commanded.

She increased her suction and quickly fell into the rhythm of what he was doing. She then rubbed her tongue against his finger without even being taught to. Told to. Her improvisation sent fire up along the insides of his thighs and into the seat of his groin. If he wasn’t careful he would spend himself like a green boy. He had to maintain control.

Gritting his teeth he withdrew his finger from her mouth.

“Undress me,” he demanded hoarsely.

She hesitated yet again. This time he did not find it charming.

“Do as I say!” he snapped.

“Yes, Sir,” she said, an equal snap to her tone. She reached for the ties to his breeches, unlacing them with sharp tugs of efficiency. She was trying to distance herself from her actions with anger. He grabbed her chin and forced her to look up at him.

“Do not touch your master with anger in your heart. It is a betrayal. I will not have it.”

She went still and looked up at him. “You think because someone is angry with you that it is a betrayal? Why? Am I not entitled to my emotions?”

“Not negative ones. Not while you are serving me. When you are elsewhere you may think and feel as you like, but here with me you will be calm and devoted.”

“Then you do not want a woman. You want a doll. Something vacant and hollow. Something with no depth. I had thought you more complex than that.”

She shamed him with her words. She was right. It was wrong of him to expect her to act as if she had no thoughts or emotions of her own. In fact, did he not thrive on those things within her? What was wrong with him? Why was he trying so hard to distance himself from her, when only minutes before he had wanted to get closer to her? To know her mind and her ways intimately? To know her as no one else did?

He was sending her mixed signals, he realized, when in fact he should be doing the exact opposite. He should be making things clear and simple for her. He should be taking care of her on all levels. Physically and emotionally.

“You are right,” he said then, his fingertips sweeping up over the apple of her cheek with thoughtful slowness. “I don’t want an empty husk that will mindlessly do what I ask. I would have there be infinitely more depth to our relationship. I don’t know what I was thinking. But in the future, it would be wise for you to not contradict me.”

She raised her chin a little, defiance in her eyes. “Then you must spend your time with someone else,” she said.

He shouldn’t laugh, it would only encourage her outrageous behavior, but he did. It broke the tension between them, and he relaxed a little.

“Finish your task,” he said softly, stroking her cheek again. She was so beautiful, sitting at his feet as she was. He couldn’t keep his hands off her.

She continued to undress him, peeling his snugly tailored pants down to expose the tense muscles of his legs and the massive erection she had caused. She had barely been introduced to his cock face-to-face. He had been more gentle and discerning, not wishing to frighten her off from the start. But now… now she would learn him. Oh yes. It was more than time to do so.

“Take me in your hand,” he instructed, frustrated with the rasp of his voice. He should be exhibiting more control than this. He would never make it through these lessons if he did not. It was a genuine test, just the sort of thing he thrived on. He was constantly testing his own control… his own limits. This would be no different than any other monumental task. How to maintain control as she took him in her hand and her mouth.

He stroked her hair to hide the excited tremble in his hand.

She took him in her hand… cautiously at first. She was newly unsure of what to do… of what he wanted. She looked up to him for direction, and he smiled.

“Good girl. Introduce yourself to him slowly. He will not hurt you.”

“He did only last night,” she countered.

He chuckled. “That time is past. You are no longer a virgin. It will not hurt you unless I want it to hurt you. And believe me when I tell you, you will want to be hurt by then as well.”

“No one wants to be hurt.”

“On the contrary. Pain and pleasure are so close to one another. Have you not learned that by now?”

She blushed, looking away from him. She still wasn’t ready to admit to herself just how much pleasure she was taking in his treatment of her. That was all right. He knew the truth. It was enough. “Kiss my cock. Run your tongue over the tip.”

Valerian curled his hand into a fist in her hair, willing himself to maintain control. She did as instructed, first placing a gentle kiss at the end of his cock, and then sticking out her tongue and running it over the weeping slit at the end. He watched the expressions registering across her features. “How do I taste?” he asked her.

“Salty. Almost sweet,” she answered honestly.

“Does it appeal to you?”

She blushed and looked away. “It is not unappealing,” she demurred.

“Then do it again,” he commanded her.

She came back to him, eyeing him critically. It was all he could do to not chuckle as she faced down her opponent. She was intimidated, but she would be damned if she would show it. She didn’t realize just how easy she was to read.

Her tongue darted out, and she licked him again. This time she did not limit herself to the tip of him. She licked him halfway up his length as well.

“Now take me into your mouth, just as you did with my finger. Suck on me. Careful of your teeth… for now.”

She did as he instructed, and he tensed as pleasure swirled through him. She sucked him into her mouth, daring to take as much of him as she could right from the start. Of course it would take time and training for her to learn how to truly take him, avoiding her gag reflex. But there was no underplaying her immediate skill. She was born to serve him, he thought heatedly. She thrived as his submissive. Though she bucked and fought, like a fine bred horse she would be all the better after her training. She would always be spirited, and that was how he liked her.

Without instruction she wrapped her hand around his girth and rhythmically squeezed him in time to the dip of his cock into her mouth. She alternated the suction with flicks of her tongue, and he almost collapsed to his knees. But to do so would have brought an end to the incredible pleasure she was giving him, and he didn’t want that. Besides, it was important to him that he maintain an image of control. She had to know who was in command here. It was the only way he could truly take pleasure in her. It was the only way he might ever come to trust her.

He massaged her scalp through the strands of her hair in a matching rhythm to the way she was sucking him. He closed his fist around her hair and struggled with himself over letting her continue or peeling her away. Gods, she was gorgeous. He wanted to let her continue until he was pumping his seed down her throat. The very imagery in his mind had the power to bring him close to doing so.

But this was meant to be a learning experience for her, not an unraveling of control for him. “Touch the soft sac beneath my cock,” he rasped. “Cup it in your hand… stroke your fingers over the back of it. Yes,” he hissed, “just like that.”

She manipulated him almost expertly, one hand squeezing, the other stroking dark, sensitive places. It was more than he could bear. He drew in a hissing breath through his teeth and struggled to hold his release at bay. She looked up at him, never once breaking her rhythm, and he had the distinct feeling that she was aware of her power in that moment.

That would not do.

“Enough!” he barked.

She stopped, pulling her mouth free and dropping her hands. His sense of immediate loss was profound. She bowed her head before him, and he had the immediate impression that she was being anything but submissive in her heart. But she was obeying him in every visible way, so he had no opportunity to fault her. No real reason to punish her.

Since when have you ever needed a reason? “Turn around,” he ordered.

She hesitated but turned on her knees. He took a moment to cool his breathing, to observe her and consider what to do next. “I think you liked that far too well,” he growled. “Have you done it before?”

She gasped, jerking her head around to glare at him. “You know I haven’t!”

“I know you were a virgin, but that does not preclude you having done other things. Perhaps you experimented with a boy…”

“I’ve done nothing of the kind. Don’t blame me for your insecurities.”

“I am not insecure. And this is no way to speak to your master.”

“You are just looking for reasons to punish me. Why don’t you just do it and get it over with?”

He reached out and grabbed a fistful of her hair. He yanked back hard until she was looking up at him, her head tilted far back. “I am your master,” he snapped. “I do not need a reason to punish you.”

“You aren’t cruel,” she countered. “You don’t want to hurt me for the sake of soothing your temper.”

Damn her, she was right, he thought with heat. When he doled out pain it was for the sake of pleasure, not to soothe a fractious emotion. He was not his brother. He did not hurt for the sake of hurting. He did not thrive on the suffering of others.

He let go of her hair and turned his back on her, striding several steps away. He struggled within himself to cool his temper. He had worked too hard at gaining her trust to ruin it now with temperamental behavior. But the fact that she spoke with confidence at his lack of cruelty told him that she had been paying attention… that she was indeed beginning to trust him. That she was coming to know him.

Why should he feel threatened by that fact? It had never bothered him before with any of his other women. But then again, he had never craved so intensely to show a vulnerable side of himself to his other women. What made her so special? he asked himself again. What made her so different? Why should he trust her, a veritable stranger, with parts of himself that could potentially be used for his downfall?

He heard her turn, heard her move. He stood on stiff legs as she approached him on her hands and knees. She settled at his right foot, wrapping her arms and body around his leg. “I did not mean to displease you,” she said softly.

That she wanted to mollify him was somewhat comforting. That she was doing so as a true subservient might was equally pleasing. But his upset had been of his own creation. He reached down and swallowed her head up with his hand, petting her gently. “You’ve done nothing wrong. You please me in many ways.”

“But you are not pleased at the moment,” she countered.

“I am not pleased that I am not in control of myself. My exception is with myself, not you. But you already know this.”

“I do,” she said without arrogance. She touched his flexed thigh muscle with soft fingers, stroking down his leg as if she were petting a small animal. But he knew she was not treating him as something harmless and defenseless. She was catering to him, just as she should. The question was, why would she do this? She owed him no favors or allegiance. Until a few days ago he had been her sworn enemy. Was she simply behaving as she was in order to get recompense in the form of him taking care of her sisters?

Of course she was. After all, he had been the one to tell her it was the quickest way to earn his benevolence. But for some reason it sat ill with him, where it never had before. He didn’t like thinking she obeyed and catered to him just to get her way. He had always understood his relationships with his women were give and take. It had never bothered him before.

But now it did. It troubled him deeply. The reaction in and of itself was troubling. Why should he care? What difference did it make? Was she really so different from any other woman?

“Come, Pet,” he said softly, “I would have your mouth on me again.”

She didn’t hesitate. She slid around on the carpet until she was knee to toe with him once more. She reached up to take him in her hand, then rose up from her heels to take him in her mouth.

His troubling emotions and thoughts had caused his arousal to wane, but it swiftly corrected itself as he was drawn into the warm cavern of her mouth. He didn’t know why he had asked her to do this… not entirely. Servicing him like this should be a reward. And he supposed that was what he was doing… rewarding her. Rewarding her for helping him to look inside himself. She had done so relentlessly since the moment he had first tied her to his bed tonight.

He had to show her his gratitude for that. Anything that made him examine himself… hopefully to the better… was worthy of note and reward. He wasn’t exactly certain how she had bettered him with her questioning and giving ways, but he felt instinctively that she was changing something inside him. Whether it was for the better remained to be seen. For now, he would quiet his mind by indulging in raw pleasure.

His fingers threaded into her lush blonde hair as he guided her onto himself. The suction of her mouth was divine, and she did not shy away from him this time any more than she had the first. Tension crept into his legs, matching that which was already between his shoulders. It made him aware of just how tightly wound he was. He needed this release. And it was going to be oh so sweet.

“I’m going to come down your throat, and you are going to drink every last drop, Pet,” he told her through tightened teeth.

She paused in her fellatio just long enough to say, “Yes, Sir.”

Her acquiescence thrilled him. The idea of taming something as wild as she was… it was beyond wonderful. Oh, she was far from tame, but they were well on their way.

Valerian groaned as her tongue swirled around the glans of his penis. He tightened the hand in her hair into a fist, crushing the delicate golden strands. He watched himself disappearing into her mouth and it sent immeasurable pleasure zinging through him. He was almost there. Almost ready. She was catering to him so perfectly. His breath came harsh and fast. His hips swayed forward with shallow thrusts every time she took him in.

Her free hand came up and cradled his sac, her fingers tickling at him the way he had only just taught her. She was such a fast learner. So easily able to adapt. But sometimes he wondered who was training whom. Who had the upper hand between them? It was not a question he liked having unanswered. But it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing yet.

It would be a bad thing if she ever recognized the power she had over him, but as long as she remained ignorant, he could maintain the upper hand. And he must have the upper hand. In all things. It was the only way he knew how to live his life. There was only one thing that could supersede his wishes and that was the finality of his brother’s command. Sure, he could more often than not influence that final command, but Vicktor was unpredictable sometimes… and Valerian could not turn away from his father’s dictate that he be subservient to his brother’s rule.

Could he?

Sounds of pleasure erupted from his lips as he felt himself being swept away from his heavy thoughts and into the moment of release. She was sucking on him hard now… almost too hard… but he liked it. Oh, how he liked it. He gasped for a breath and then felt his orgasm crest over the edge she had brought him to. He kept from shouting out by gritting his teeth, but he wanted to. He wanted to shout down the rafters so she would know how much she pleased him. But that would give her too much power. Perhaps too much satisfaction at his expense. He couldn’t allow that.

He had to lock his legs to keep himself from collapsing in the relief of his orgasm. He focused instead on the way her mouth worked at him, the way she swallowed his seed even though she had never experienced such a thing before. Again her adaptability amazed him. He touched her throat as she swallowed, taking satisfaction in the sensation of her catering to his desires. Whatever her motivations, she was his. She would never be free of him.

What troubled him was the idea that he might never be free of her.

* * *

Valerian awoke with a sharp intake of breath. Disoriented for only a moment, he took stock of where he was and where everything in the room was located, his hand sliding beneath his pillow and closing around the knife he kept there. The feel of the steel calmed him… centered him. He was aware of the weight of a body along his left side, and he looked down in the darkness at the top of her head in the darkness. There wasn’t a sliver of light to be had, but he didn’t need to see her to know she was lying sprawled across his chest, hugging him subconsciously as she slept.

That might have been what woke him. He did not usually sleep with his women. He never felt a need for it. He might instead have them sleep at the foot of the bed on the floor if he wanted easy access to one in the middle of the night. But in the actual bed with him? No.

So why had he done so with her? He had told her it was a reward for her good behavior… and it was. A very large reward for some very simple obedience.

No, not simple. Obedience from Melena was something to take note of. It was special and should be treated as such. She had come a long way in a short period of time for him, and he had to show her he recognized that.

So perhaps she had moved in her sleep and he had felt it in his, and it had awakened him. His grip on the blade beneath the pillow tightened. Perhaps that was the case… or perhaps…

It was only by luck that as the silent assassin raised his blade above the bed he let it catch the only beam of moonlight coming into the room. Valerian moved swift as lightning, shoving Melena away from him and drawing his blade at the same time. He plunged the blade into his target even as the target’s blade stabbed into him. The difference was, Valerian’s blade went into the assassin’s gut; the assassin’s blade cut into the fleshy part of Valerian’s shoulder just on the outside of his arm.

Valerian shoved the assassin away, disentangled himself from the bedclothes, and let his feet hit the ground. The assassin had fallen to the floor.

Light suddenly flared into the room. Melena, bless her, had had the wherewithal to light a candle in the darkness, shedding light and making the situation much less dangerous. If the assassin was able to gain his feet and make another move for Valerian, he would see it.

They needn’t have worried. The assassin was down and was staying down. He lay curled up, clutching his belly where he had been wounded, blood seeping into the carpet beneath him.

Valerian disarmed him of his blade, throwing the bloodied thing away, and knelt beside the man, who was dressed all in black. He was a professional. Had to be, from the way he was dressed to the type of blade he was using and the near perfect silence he had used to approach the bed. Had his instincts not been so well honed, Melena would be dead. She had been sprawled over most of his vital parts. There was no telling if the assassin would have seen her there… or perhaps he had and he simply did not care.

Kill one, kill two… it wouldn’t matter to the man. The trouble came from knowing that he might only get one opportunity with a man like Valerian, and he had to use that chance well.

This one had not. He might or might not have made a noise, but Valerian had been alerted even in the depths of sleep. His senses, it was said, were preternatural. Tonight he had proved that to be true.

He knelt down on the carpet and grabbed the offender by the throat, squeezing just tightly enough. “Who sent you?” he demanded. Valerian was aware of Melena coming to stand beside him where he knelt. He didn’t like her so close to this savage.

The savage refused to answer.

But before Valerian could do anything further, Melena knelt on the carpet and jammed her hand into the man’s belly, grinding her fist into his open wound. “Answer! Who sent you?” she demanded.

The man cried out in a bursting wail, but Melena was merciless, twisting and pressing until her hand was soaked with blood. “I don’t know!” the intruder rasped.

“You lie!” Melena said before Valerian could do so. “You are a professional. You would not risk your life for just anyone!”

“I-if the coin is e-enough --” her victim stuttered.

“Liar! Tell us who sent you!” Valerian demanded.

Finally, faintly he said, “What does it matter? I am dead already.” But the words were to himself rather than to those who tormented him. “It was your brother.”