Simple. Everything so simple and tied up in a neat package of barbaric logic for her edification. Well, the only enlightenment she was getting out of this was that she would be wise to get off this farden world at the first opportunity, to hell with trade and honor. But she was forgetting the mercenaries she needed, those very same warriors for whom she was fast developing a strong case of dislike, but who still seemed to be the only answer for the liberation of Kystran. She could close her eyes to honor with enough provocation, but not to all those Kystrani women-turned-slaves on Sha-Ka’ar who were suffering worse fates that she was right now.
“All right, barbarian,” Tedra said tonelessly. “If you’re done listing all my heinous crimes, break out your whips and do your worst.”
“Youwantto be beaten?”
“Yes,” she said, and meant it.But if you think everything is going to be the same between us when it’s over, think again.
She didn’t say it aloud, and not because a strange tightness was closing around her throat to make speaking difficult. She simply wouldn’t give him a reason to reconsider. No, right now she wanted him to hurt her. She wanted pain to remember, to make her fear him, to make her dead inside when he touched her, to make her hate him for real, because even now she didn’t. She should, after all those calmly stated “for thats,” but she didn’t. All she felt as the moment was … was a need to cry. Stars, what a horrible realization!
She missed his sigh during her contemplation, but she couldn’t miss his sitting up, since it brought his face mere inches from hers, his chest touching hers.
“Do you lay yourself across my upper legs, woman. You may rest your hands on the floor if you wish.”
“What?” she said, distracted by his warm breath against her lips. And then, “Oh, sure. Across the legs.”
She was still distracted, but managed to get up and reposition herself before she realized what she had done and reared back up, or tried to. A hand in the center of her back wasn’t letting her up, and both her hands pushing against the couch weren’t changing that. Her breasts just reached the edge of the couch, but her head didn’t quite reach the table she was facing.
There was nothing for it but to place her hands on the floor in the space between the two pieces of furniture. She certainly wasn’t distracted any longer. She was, in fact, thoroughly indignant.
“This won’t work, warrior. You’ll have to tie me down, or I won’t be responsible for what happens if I go nuts in reaction.”
“No.”
“No?” She twisted her head around until she could just see him. “I wasn’t kidding. I’ve got some techniques so deeply ingrained that they’re automatic reflexes. And you’ve given me your right side. I can do serious damage from here to your liver and kidneys, and if I manage to turn over, I could well kill you.”
“You really think this is possible, woman?”
He was humoring her, she could tell, which only made her madder. “Of course it’s possible. I can take a lot of pain, but I’ve never been put through anything extreme, so I can’t know how I will react. Don’t be so farden arrogant in thinking I’m not dangerous when pushed, warrior. With the right provocation, anyone can be dangerous, but I’ve been trained to be especially so. I don’t want to end up killing you by accident, no matter how much the thought tempts me right now.”
“I appreciate your candor as well as your concern for my safety, but you will not be tested beyond the limits of your endurance. What you will do is remain still and quiet, and accepting of what you asked for. Is that understood?”
“You’re making it an order that I have to control myself?” she asked incredulously.
“I see you do understand,” he said gravely.
But Tedra could have sworn he was fighting to contain his own control—not to laugh. She turned back to face the table. The cooling food spread out there should have disintegrated, her look was so hot and murderous.
“Get on with it, damn you,” she snarled low.
“As you wish.”
His open hand came down of her bare bottom with that last word, and stayed there to await her reaction. That he was awaiting her reaction should have stirred her suspicions, and if not that, then the measly strength behind that first smack should have. It didn’t. She was just annoyed that it didn’t hurt, when what she still wanted was the pain that was going to permit her to hate him.
“Give me a break,” she said slowly and with thick scorn, trying to prod him to anger. “A mosquito bite carries more impact than that love tap. I thought this was to be a punishment, not an insult.”
“Is this better?”
The next blow was a little harder, but still nothing to blink at. Again his hand remained on her backside until she commented.
“Will you stop with the kid stuff and get serious?”
“As you wish.”
The next wallop had quite a sting, but wasn’t even close to drawing forth the tears.
“Why don’t you try your right hand?” Tedra suggested dryly. “You’re obviously lacking strength in the left.”
“As you wish.”
