Dragon's Mistress

Chapter 4

He stared earnestly into her face, willing her to believe him. They were almost out of time. He'd managed to arrange a temporary power failure that would keep the Emperor's spies from listening in on them, but they would suspect something if the power didn't come back on soon.

She bit her lip, staring up at him with those stunning, unreal blue eyes. Despite the seriousness of their situation, he felt a twinge of desire for her. It filled him with dark amusement. Here he was, plotting to overthrow an emperor, and still all he could think about was bedding this incredible woman.

He was so caught up in his thoughts that it never occurred to him she would hit him.

The blow took him in the jaw, and he hit the ground with a thump. He gasped for breath as it had knocked the wind out of him. She stood over him, hands braced on her hips and glaring in anger.

"I may be a pleasure worker, but I will not let myself be used," she said with bitter venom. "I have no reason to believe you. You may kill me for this, but I'd rather be dead than betray my friends and my Guild. I have no reason to believe a thing you say."

"I can prove it to you," he said, fingering his jaw.

"How?"

He stood, watching her carefully. He wouldn't make the same mistake again, he thought.

"Take off your earrings."

"What?"

"Take off your earrings," he repeated. "Karya gave them to you earlier today, didn't she? For tonight."

She nodded, reaching up to take out the delicate silver baubles.

He reached out to take them from her. She handed them to him, and he turned them over in his hands. They appeared to be a random twist of silver wires and pearls, but he knew there was a pattern.

There it was…he found the right spot and allowed them to interlock with each other. Then he held them up for Daniella to see. They had formed the delicate outline of a dragon, the mythological beast which was part of the Von'hot family crest.

"Where did Karya say she got these?" he asked quietly, handing them back to her.

"From her son," Dani whispered, looking up into his face.

"I gave her the earrings," he said quietly. She opened her mouth, but he cut her off. "I'm not going to tell you the whole story. There's no need for you to know any more, and too many people could suffer if anyone found out. But Karya is my mother, and we have been working together for years. Before he was killed, she planned all of this with my brother. Come over here."

He strode across the room to a small table. He picked up a small, hand-held illuminator, one with varying light frequencies. It was something that could be found in almost every home in the Empire. He turned to her.

"This is only visible with a specific frequency of light," he said quietly, punching a six-digit number into the wand. "It was tattooed into my upper arm as a child, to help them identify me if I was ever kidnapped."

He switched on the light, holding it up to his arm. Within the purplish light, the glowing outline of a dragon came into view beneath his skin.

"Hold up the earrings next to it," he said. She did, gasping. He watched her face, but he already knew what she was seeing. The delicate tracery of the wires and beads, held at exactly the right angle, matched his tattoo exactly. There could be no mistaking it.

"Do you believe me now?" he asked.

"You could have had those given to Karya," she said, shaking her head.

"Yes, I could have," he replied. "But how would have I arranged for her to give them to you? You know I’m telling the truth."

She was silent, a single tear welling up.

"I wish you weren't," she said. "How could all those people be dead, and none of us know about it?"

"He's not sane," Drake replied, filled with compassion for her. He remembered when he'd first heard the news, and realized that he no longer had a choice in fighting the Emperor. "Will you help us?"

"Yes," she whispered, reaching one hand up to wipe away the tears. "Yes, I will," she added, her voice stronger. He detected a note of steel in her tone, and he sighed with relief. Karya hadn't underestimated her.

"It's going to be very difficult for you," he said. "You're going to become my mistress. The Guild is going to expel you for turning against them, and you'll be publicly humiliated."

"I understand," she said, nodding her head with quiet dignity.

"When we go to Tyre, you'll be an outcast among the Guild members. And you'll be an outsider among the nobles. They won't look upon you as an equal, you know."

"I can handle that."

"There's one more thing," he said, “and this may be the hardest part of all. Within a day or two I can guarantee that the Emperor's people will contact you, try to recruit you to spy on me. You'll have to agree with them, and you'll have to keep up a convincing front that you're working against me."

"How will you know I'm not working against you?" she asked, looking at him coolly. All traces of tears were gone now.

"Because 25,000 of your Guild sisters will be counting on you to bring some kind of meaning to their deaths," he said. "Even if you betrayed me, I know you wouldn't betray them. Do we have a deal?"

"Yes," she replied. "We have a deal."

"Good," he said. He pressed a small button against the wall, and spoke with a commanding voice,

"Please send us a tray of fruits, cheeses and wines."

"Yes, Your Grace," a disembodied voice replied. Drake turned back to her.

"In order for us to speak privately, I had to arrange for a 'random' power failure that cut off Imperial surveillance of this room. Ordering the food was the signal to restore the power, so they won't get suspicious and realize I know about their bugs. We have about three minutes until the power disruption ends," he added. "I'd like for them to think we've been doing things other than talking this entire time."

He gestured toward the bed, and she nodded, walking toward it quickly while shrugging out of her gown. She jumped up the three steps surrounding the high, canopied platform seemingly without a thought for her nudity, but Drake was struck silent by the sight of her. She was exquisite, perfect. Her soft, round butt swayed as she walked away from him. Her long, blonde hair hung to her waist in perfect ringlets. How did she do that, keep it so perfect even after all they'd done earlier?

"Drake, are you coming?" she asked, looking back to him with concern on her face. "We don't have much time."

He couldn't help it, he burst out laughing. The most beautiful woman he'd ever met was on his bed, demanding that he join her, and there wasn't even a hint of sexuality in her movements. It was just too funny.

She stared at him, confused. "What?" she asked.

"Nothing," he replied, shaking his head. "It's not important."

He walked slowly toward her. She had turned around on the bed, and he could just see her pink nipples peeking out through the curtain of her hair. He could feel himself hardening as he moved closer, his erect cock swaying and his balls tightening up in anticipation.

She was smiling now, leaning back on her elbows and her legs spread out wide before her. Her cunt was open and waiting for him.

"Come here," she whispered. "You know, before I never even got the chance to touch you, Drake, but if you're going to be taking me on as your mistress than I think you should probably get a taste of what I bring to the table. I may be retired, but I was very good at my job."

He climbed up onto the bed, looming over her. She reached down with one hand and firmly grabbed his erection, holding it just a little too tightly for comfort.

"I'm in this now," she whispered, her face all innocence. "But don't forget that you're in it with me.

Screw me or my Guild over and I'll take you with me." She twisted him ever so lightly, for emphasis.

He froze, startled.

"I won't," he whispered, his mouth coming down over hers in a gentle kiss. She kept her hold on him, but loosened her fingers, sliding them up and down his hard length. He shuddered, sensation running from his center up his spine. She pulled her mouth away from his, and looked up at him.

"We're out of time," he said. "We've got to make this look good."

"That won't be a hardship," she replied softly. "Now, get on your back. I plan to charge you a great deal of money to be your mistress. I'd better start earning it."

He rolled onto his back, watching her as she moved to straddle him. She slowly lowered herself until he could feel her hot, moist cunt brush against him. His hips pushed up against her, trying to get in, but she pulled away.

"Oh, no," she said. "That's far too easy, Drake. Like I said, I want to earn my money."

She leaned over him, rubbing her breasts against his chest sensuously. Her nipples were tight, hard pebbles against him, and he groaned in pleasure. Then she kissed him, her lips light and moist against his.

She teased him, nipping and lapping at him, then dropping little kisses along his jaw and neck. Her mouth worked its way lower, trailing fire along his chest. Lower and lower she moved, and then one hand was gripping the length of his cock. Her lips were almost there, and she felt his stomach muscles clench in anticipation.

She looked up at him through her veil of hair, her eyes filled with a look of power that said he might be ruler of the world, but for that moment she was his ruler. He closed his eyes and let his head fall back, content to be under her control for now.

Her tongue slipped out, tracing the little ridge that ringed the head of his cock. He shivered, quivering at her touch. She grasped him firmly in her hand, then pulled down on his skin. He felt sensitive, exposed. Then her tongue touched him again, this time right above her hand. She trailed it up along the underside of his erection and wiggled it against him as she reached the little notch below the head. His hips thrust up at her once, involuntarily. She laughed throatily, then her mouth engulfed him fully, sucking him into its warms depths.

She slipped down on him, sucking him in hard and then pulling back, her lips trailing over him. Her head moved down again, hot against him. She moaned, unable to control herself. Up and down she went, moving faster and faster.

The sensations built in him. He was so sensitive that the motions of her lips and tongue against him were almost painful. He was getting closer, his breath came faster and his heart pounded in his chest.

Her mouth pulled away from him, and she was sitting up, giving him that smile again. Then she was scooting up his body, her hair sending shivers through him as it trailed along his skin. She raised her hips and slid down over him; he grunted in reaction to her movement. She was a hot, tight glove enclosing him, squeezing him. Her hands were braced against his chest as she twisted her body against his, massaging him with her interior muscles. Then she froze, and he heard an embarrassed cough. She sat up, still impaled on his length.

Drake leaned up on his elbows and looked to see who had entered.

His spymaster was standing there, wearing the uniform of a servant and holding a heavily laden tray.

The man looked up and down her body with interest.

"You requested food, Your Grace," the man said in dulcet tones. "Shall I put the tray on the table?"

"Yes," Drake said, his voice harsh. The witch had started squeezing him again as she sat their, her movements completely invisible to their audience. "On the table, that will be all," he gasped out.

The man gave him a sardonic look, then turned to set down the tray. He gave them a curt bow, then turned to leave the room. Drake let himself fall back down on the bed, straining as she continued working him deep inside. The door closed with a click, and she gave a tinkling laugh.

"What's the matter, Drake?" she asked, grinning down at him.

"I'll show you," he grunted, trying not to grin back at her. Moving quickly, he rolled her under him, thrusting deeply into her. She moaned, twisting against him as she brought her legs up and around to powerfully clasp his hips. Her hands reached down to his butt, digging into each cheek as she pulled him down into her. He drove down into her again and again, pushing as deeply as he could. He wanted to bury himself in her, to push so deeply into her body that the feel of him was imbedded in her. He realized he was trying to brand her, that he felt possessive of her.

She was whimpering now, and she bucked against him as he pressed her harder down into the bed.

Her fingers dug deeply into him, raking up his back, leaving a trail of fire in his skin. She was marking him, he realized. The pain of her touch only made him more excited, more eager to possess her. She was wild, and she was his. But she wouldn't give in easily.

She whimpered again, and he could feel her starting to convulse around him. He gritted his teeth with exertion; he was so close. He slammed his cock into her again, hitting deep and hard and she exploded under him. She screamed a high-pitched wailing noise that cut through him. She squeezed him so tightly it hurt, her muscles seeming to scrape against his hypersensitive skin. His balls were hard, tight with his seed. He thrust one more time and then came, the hot liquid shooting out of him with explosive force. His blood roared in his ears, and he collapsed on her, gasping for breath.

After a moment to recover, he rolled off of her. She was still gasping and whimpering from her own release, but she rolled onto his chest and kissed him deeply.

"Will you mind being my mistress?" he asked her when they paused for air. She smiled down at him, her face flushed pleasantly pink from her exertions.

"Oh, no, I won't mind at all," she whispered. "I'm looking forward to it."