Dungeon Royale

Chapter Eleven

Penny woke up warm and happy, cuddled up next to Damon, his arm wrapped around her as he cradled her against his chest. She breathed in his scent, loving the masculine, woody smell that seemed to cling to him.

Without moving her body, she lifted her eyes up to look at him. He seemed younger sleeping, as though his cares had all fallen away. She wanted so badly to reach up and brush her hand against his jaw. It was covered in the beginnings of an inky black beard. He would get rid of it as soon as he woke up and showered, but she liked how it looked. Less civilized.

So ridiculously gorgeous it made her heart skip a beat.

He’d been passed out in bed when she’d finally made her way upstairs. Charlotte had enlisted the aid of the other women of The Garden, and her makeover had turned into a party with Chelsea and the Dom in Residence’s two subs, Lora and Anita. Penelope found them charming and open and more than willing to talk about the lifestyle and everything involved. It had been such a difference from the bland discussions she’d had with other women. They had laughed and talked about sex.

After a couple of tequila shots, Simon and Jesse and Ian had escorted them all to the nearest clothing store where Penelope had bought a bunch of clothes she would never have thought to even try on before.

It had been such fun. By the time she’d used her keycard to let herself into Damon’s rooms, she’d been ready for a fight. She’d come up with all her reasons for staying close to him.

He’d been asleep wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and his socks, a half-empty Scotch bottle next to him. Some super-agent he was. She’d pulled his socks off and tucked him into bed, then got ready and climbed in next to him.

It hadn’t been more than two minutes before he was rolling over and cuddling up to her and murmuring her name.

At least he was honest when he was asleep and drunk. She rather thought she would get a fight out of him this morning.

His hand moved along her side, and she felt a little moan leave his chest, though his eyes didn’t open. He sighed and Penny looked down. Sure enough, there was his morning mate. His cock was tenting up the sheet admirably.

Brave. Bold. That was the way she was now. Penny, the Brave. Penny, the woman who boldly stroked the cock she wanted to keep forever.

She let her hand run down his ripped abs to feel the tip of his dick as it stretched out of the top of his boxers. It reached almost to his navel and was so thick she could barely get her hand around it. Would it fit in her mouth? She wanted to try. She’d loved the way he’d licked and sucked her pussy. She wanted to pay back the favor, to learn his taste.

She wanted so much more, but she doubted he would let her have anything other than the physical for now. If he would allow her even that.

She wouldn’t know until she tried.

“What are you doing, Penelope?” His voice was a sexy rumble.

She forced herself not to move. Calm. Patience would win this battle. Patience and playing her part. Except she was beginning to understand it wasn’t a part. It was who she’d never known she was. “I was thinking about playing with your cock, Master.”

He hissed a little. “I meant what are you doing in my bed.”

He hadn’t moved an inch, hadn’t shifted away from her or pushed her back. He simply lay there, waiting for her answer.

It was an easy one. He hadn’t spoken much to her after the episode in Nigel’s office. “I did what you told me to. You told me I was to sleep in your bed, and I wasn’t allowed clothes.”

His eyes closed briefly. “Naturally, you’re naked.”

“It’s what you commanded, Master.” Charlotte had explained that men like Damon grew deeply aroused with the idea of command and obedience. He needed to think he was in control of her and the situation. To a point.

“And if I ordered you to leave me alone?”

That was exactly what she was afraid of. “I would leave you alone, though I fear it wouldn’t help in our mission.”

“I want you out of the mission.”

She sat up. This was exactly what they should have done yesterday. He’d been an arse, speaking in front of everyone, but then it was obvious to her that he didn’t know how to handle simple emotions and allowances had to be made. “I have to go with you.”

He turned on his side, his eyes so serious she wondered if he wouldn’t simply toss her out now. “You don’t. You can quit and go somewhere else. Tag’s crew can have new identification for you and you can be out of this entirely.”

Such an idiot. She didn’t bother to pull the sheet up. The instinct was there, to cover herself, to hide from his view, but she’d started to think she did that a lot. If she always hid, how could anyone ever really know her? “I’m not giving up my whole life, Damon.”

“It would only be for a while.”

She knew what that meant. “Until you kill Baz or he kills you.”

“Yes.” His eyes weren’t on her face now. He was watching her breasts, and it wasn’t with distaste.

She felt her nipples peak and not from the chill. “And if he kills you? You don’t think he’ll still come after me?”

“I think it would be less likely.” He cursed softly under his breath and turned on his back again, his forearm covering his eyes. “I don’t know. I don’t intend to allow him to kill me. It would be easier to do this alone.”

“I don’t see how.”

His hand fisted in obvious frustration with the entire conversation. “Because I’ll spend all my time trying to keep you alive. Can’t you see that?”

“No. I’m trained, Damon. I’m sorry I’m not your perfect partner, but I’m the only one you have and you need me. This is about more than me. We could spend the next few days arguing and fighting and wasting time.”

His eyes came open again and there was something nasty and predatory in them. “Or we could do what? We could fuck? You want to fuck the arsehole who humiliated you yesterday? I thought you had more spine than that.”

She let the words roll off her. She reached out and soothed back his hair. “Not particularly. I’m hoping I can find the Damon who made love to me before.”

“He doesn’t exist. I told you what I was doing.” But even as he said the words, he was still under her hands, allowing her to comfort him.

“I know. I understand. You don’t love me. You don’t really want me.”

His lips turned down in a fierce frown. “Fuck. Penelope, I do want you. Damn it. I enjoyed fucking you, but that’s as far as it goes. Do you understand that I’m likely to get you killed? Why do you want to screw the man who’s going to cost you everything?”

She couldn’t help but roll her eyes. He really did love a good drama. “We need to work on your pessimism.”

“We need to work on your realism. Do you think he won’t kill you? Do you think he won’t do that to try to hurt me?”

“Would it hurt you?”

His hand moved so quickly she was shocked when his fingers clamped around her wrist like a manacle. “Is that what you’re looking for? You’re looking to see if there’s anything under here? You want me to love you, Penelope? You think if I love you then anything that happens to you would be worth it because some man loved you.”

It was really hard not to slap him silly, but she had to remember why he was doing it. He’d never been loved before. His parents had died when he was so young, and he’d been raised in boarding schools. He’d lost his unit. He didn’t trust anything or anyone. Patience. She couldn’t tell him that some man loving her wasn’t worth her life, but loving him just might be. He wouldn’t understand. Loving him had made her stronger. “I was just wondering if my partner would give a rat’s arse if I died in the field. I was trying to figure out what my position is. Do you want me to leave because you don’t trust me to help you or because you’ll feel guilty if I die? You were very plain to me. You don’t love me. You will never love me. My ears work, Damon. I’m very good at understanding what words mean. So no, I’m not looking for you to love me.”

If he called her on it, what would she say? Her mind was racing, trying to keep up with the drama she found herself in. He was being stubborn and obnoxious.

And quite fast. He rolled on top of her, pinning her down, making a cage of his body.

“Then what do you want?” He growled the question, pressing down on her, forcing her to take his full weight.

God, she wanted that. She could feel the length of his cock pressed to her pussy, only the thin material of his boxers between them. This was what she really wanted. He wouldn’t listen to words, but somewhere in the heat of sex, he might find the connection she was offering him. “I want to do my job and serve my country, Damon.”

“You’re going to fuck me for Queen and country, then?”

She tilted her hips up, forcing his cock right against her clit. “No. I’m going to fuck you because it feels so damn good. You’re an excellent tutor. You taught me to crave it. I want to make a deal with you.”

His chest rubbed against hers. “I’m listening.”

“Teach me. You have to anyway or we’ll blow our cover. I like this lifestyle. I think I fit into it. I think I could be happy here. Consider me a submissive you’re training. From what I understand, you didn’t have to love them. You just had to want them.”

“I can want a lot of women. I like a variety.”

She didn’t like the faintly cruel way he said it. Her insecurities rose up. “So you like fat women, too? Is that what you’re implying, Damon?”

He was off her and turning her over in a heartbeat. She felt cool air against her backside and then the sharp sound of flesh smacking flesh. She screamed into the pillow because he meant business with that slap. Two and three came in rapid succession. She would likely have moved to get away from him, but his big hand was on her back, holding her down.

“If there is one thing I will teach you, it’s that you will not denigrate yourself in my presence. You know your safe word, but you should think before using it.” Four and five and six.

It was a breakthrough. He was touching her, taking her in hand the way a Dom would with his wayward sub. But why did his breakthrough have to blister her poor bottom? “You said it yourself just yesterday.”

Seven and eight. He spread out the smacks, lighting up every inch of her bum. “I never said that.”

“You said you weren’t attracted to me.”

“I bloody well lied and you know it. I like you. I even admire you. I don’t want you to mistake that for love. I don’t want you to sacrifice yourself when what I can give you isn’t bloody well worth it.” Nine and ten and then she lost track. She’d pushed his buttons and he was showing his true colors, and if he needed to spank her to do it, then she would take it.

Besides, it wasn’t so bad. The first couple hurt—they all hurt really—but somewhere along the way she felt herself getting wet and excited even as she gritted her teeth against the flare of pain.

“You won’t protect yourself so I have to. Do you know what he’ll do to you? You’re putting yourself in danger, and I won’t have it.”

He finally stopped, the smacks ceasing suddenly. He put his hand on her arse cheeks, softly this time, as though soothing away the hurt. A long moment passed where she cried softly into the pillow, allowing the experience to wash over her.

“Penelope? Are you all right?”

She was better than all right. The tears felt freeing somehow. She bottled so much up, but the two times Damon had spanked her had been a revelation. “Yes. I need this. I just realized how much I need this.”

He’d been honest with her—as honest as he knew how to be.

“I can’t convince you to leave me?” The question came out with very little hope, just a sad sigh from him.

She couldn’t give him all the reasons why. He wouldn’t accept them, but she could be honest about one piece of the truth. “No. You of all people should understand. My job is all I have, too. I know it seems dull to you, but I feel like I mean something because of it. I don’t mean anything to anybody. Even when my mum was alive, god, she didn’t recognize me at the end. She actively fought me trying to help her. If I run away from this, I have to give it up. I won’t leave this job. It’s the only thing that makes me feel alive.”

Except you. Except this.

He rolled her over, and she’d never in her life felt more vulnerable than that moment when he stared down at her, no expression on his face. He was remote, unattainable. He could ruin her with a few callous words. He could lift her up with well-placed ones. It was frightening just how much he meant to her, how much power he had over her when he was so damaged himself.

His fingers came down to brush her tears away. “You crying damn near kills me. I don’t know why. I’ve watched women cry before. I’ve made women cry before. Something about your tears wrecks me. And yet I want them. I want you to cry because you’re bloody beautiful when you do it. Because I want your tears. I want them for me. I’m a greedy fucking bastard, and I want you to cry for me.”

Because he couldn’t cry for himself. Likely hadn’t since he’d been a child. He seemed to study her for a moment before speaking again. “I won’t go easy on you. And I don’t want you to think we’ll be together when this is done. I’ve decided I don’t want a partner. Never again. If you like, you can have access to The Garden. I’ll give you a full membership and I’ll vet anyone you play with, but I won’t touch you again after this is done. I know you won’t believe me, but it’s for your own good. I’m not the man for you. I’m the man who’ll make you cry, and I don’t want that. I think you deserve better than that.”

She would take it. It was a step in the right direction. At least he admitted he cared about her. “I want this time, Damon. I want the training. I promise I won’t beg you to keep me in the end. If you walk away, I’ll somehow manage to survive without you.”

His eyes closed, but when he opened them again, he relaxed and rolled off the bed. She thought he was going to leave her, walk away and go about his business. He would leave her to Charlotte and Chelsea.

He shoved his boxers off his lean hips, kicking them aside and stroking his big cock. “Fine. If this is the way you want it, I’ll teach you. Your first lesson is how to suck my cock. Get on your knees and show me what you know.”

She scrambled off the bed, her backside aching, but it was a pleasurable thing now. Her heart started to pound in her chest, excitement driving her. “I don’t know very much.”

She sank to her knees, trying to emulate the position Charlotte had taught her the night before.

He loomed over her like a decadent dream. “You will when I’m done with you.”

She licked her lips, ready to learn everything he could teach her.

She was going to kill him. He might not make it to the meeting with Baz. He’d just let Penelope give him a heart attack.

He’d fallen into bed after hitting the bottle far too hard. His head was aching, but it was nothing compared to the pain in his cock.

He knew he should turn her away. He should be brutal with her, force her away. Save her.

Her eyes came up, staring straight through him, and he knew he was a bastard, son of a bitch. Selfish. He put a hand in her hair, letting it sink into her curls. He was so selfish because he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t say the words that would make her hate him forever. Fuck. He didn’t even want to.

His cock strained toward her like the fucking thing had a brain and knew where it wanted to be.

“Spread your knees farther apart.” He was supposed to be training her to be his submissive. Not his bloody partner. His. Now that he finally realized he was stuck in this mess, several realities occurred to him, the chief one being that she belonged to him for the duration. At the end of this operation, he would give her up and make sure that she never saw fieldwork again because he wouldn’t trust anyone else with her safety, but for now, Penelope Cash belonged to him.

His to train. His to fuck. His to pleasure. The word beat through his system like the most addictive of all drugs. His. His. His.

Her teeth sank into her plump bottom lip as she moved, spreading her knees, showing him her pussy.

His pussy. It was his for the time being. Tag had been right about that. It was his pussy, the best he’d ever had. At heart, he supposed, men were still animals fighting for the right to mate with their chosen female. No matter how nicely he dressed, he wasn’t really civilized. Penelope Cash had proven that to him once and for all. He was just an animal driven by instincts. The instinct to fuck, to protect, to possess.

“How much experience do you have?” The question came out casually, but inside he really wanted to know. He wanted to know how many men had been stupid enough to know the sweetness of that gorgeous, bratty mouth only to allow her to get away.

“None when it comes to this,” she offered, wiggling a little.

“None?”

“I told you. Peter didn’t think it was sanitary.” Her lips curved as she said the words. Before when she’d talked about her ex, there had been a layer of sadness, of embarrassment. There was nothing but a little naughtiness now. Her tears, those sweet tears, had dried and she was ready for play.

He tightened his hand in her hair, pulling her gently back so she was staring up at him. “What do you think? Did you like it when I sucked your cunt? Did you like it when I fucked you with my tongue and ate that pussy until I had my fill?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He tightened his hold until she hissed slightly. “What do you call me?”

“Master.”

He would only be her Master for a brief period of time, but she would use his proper title until he had to let go. He would get everything that was due to him while she was his. She was wiggling again. Despite the emotion of the morning, he found himself smiling. “Is there a problem, love? You seem to be a bit uncomfortable.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Tell me what’s paining you. Tell your Master what part of you aches.” He knew, but he wanted to hear it from her lips. Spanking her felt good and right, and he wouldn’t do it unless it was for her pleasure and his, or she spouted shite like she had earlier. He wouldn’t allow her to talk poorly of herself. Not while he was her Master.

She frowned, her mouth going into the sweetest pout. “My bum hurts, Master. It still burns a bit.”

He stroked his cock, wanting to draw this out. “You should remember that feeling, love, because every time I hear you speak like that about yourself, I’ll make sure to set your arse on fire. Am I understood? You want my training, you’ll play by my rules.”

“Yes, Master.” She was watching his cock, her eyes on the head as he stroked himself. So responsive. She was completely untutored, her sensuality only just emerging. It was a gift he didn’t deserve, but fate had shoved her into his hands.

“Is a sore bum your only problem, love? Do you have a wet pussy as well?”

She nodded. “Yes, Master.”

God, he loved hearing those words out of her mouth. “You’ll get no relief until you give me what I want. Lick the head.”

Penelope leaned forward, her mouth coming open with a sweet obedience that had his cock swelling further. Her tongue came out, swiping across the head of his dick, licking up the pre-come that had beaded there. She didn’t hesitate, didn’t pull away, simply lapped at the slit on his dick, tasting him with honest, open curiosity.

He held his ground, though it was hard to stay on his feet. The pleasure was so intense as she ran that sweet tongue all over the head of his cock.

“I like how you taste, Master.”

Fuck. “Suck the head. Take me deep.”

She leaned forward and worked her mouth around his cock. It was awkward but endearing how hard she worked.

“That’s right, love. Do you know how good your mouth feels? Run your tongue all over me.” He set his hand in her hair again, threading it tight this time. She was a natural, not because she was perfect, but because she wanted it, wanted him. That was all he needed.

Over and over she worked his dick, taking more each time, with the same diligence she probably used when she was translating a document.

“Take more.” He pulled gently on her hair and reveled in the way she shivered. He could smell her arousal.

His cock was past hard. He’d moved into completely new territory. All the blood in his body was rushing to his dick, and it made him a little light-headed. He shoved his hips toward her mouth, gaining another inch before allowing her to drag back almost all the way out of her mouth. She tickled his slit and then began her excruciatingly slow pass over his flesh. Her eyes were closed, but there was peace on her face, the same peace he’d seen in natural subs serving their Masters.

She would need this. Even after he was gone, she would need to submit to a man who had her best interests at heart. Not everywhere. She would need to be a full partner in their regular life, but in the bedroom, she needed this.

He wouldn’t be the man to give it to her.

Ruthlessly, he shoved the thought away. He would deal with that when he had to. For now, he was going to take everything she had to give him. He would be selfish and soak up her sweetness.

“More.” He wanted the back of her throat. He wanted every inch of his cock inside her.

She licked and sucked and worked him until she’d gotten to his base.

His eyes rolled into the back of his head. “You have to stop.”

With regret, he pulled out of her mouth because he didn’t want to come yet. He wanted inside her. He wanted to be on top of her.

“Master, I don’t mind. I want to swallow you.” Her eyes were wide as though she was worried she’d made a mistake.

“And I want to fuck you. Who’s in charge? Get on the bed and spread your legs for me. You’ll get a belly full of my come, but not today. Right now, you’ll get on that bed and wait for me. You’ll take me when I want, how I want. This is how the relationship is going to go. You will obey me or there will be punishment.” He had to give her one more way out. “Think it through, Penelope. I’ll be hard on you. While you’re with me, you’re mine and I’ll want you three times a day. I won’t care that you’re sore or sleeping. I’ll wake you up and get you ready for me. I’ll take you when the mood strikes me and when I feel like it, where I feel like it. If I want to shove your skirt up in a coat closet, I’ll do it and you’ll present to me and make it easy. So if you don’t want that, walk out now. I’ll find a way around this.”

She looked up at him and, for a moment, he was worried she would do just that. She would stand up and get dressed and walk out of his life forever and he wasn’t ready. God, he might never be ready for that. He wanted this time with her.

Rising from her knees, she went up on her toes, bringing her lips to his chin. She kissed him there, an oddly sweet affection. “Yes, Master.”

She turned, showing off that outrageously hot arse of hers, climbed on the bed, and then slowly spread her legs.

Time seemed to stop, just for a moment, as he looked at her. Presentation. The sweet offering of a submissive to her Master. Charlotte Taggart had been talking about more than castrating him. She’d told Penelope exactly how to get to him. He was being manipulated by a translator who had never been in the field, never even had a real lover in his mind. Penelope was up on her elbows, her legs spread wide. It should have been a tawdry display, but not for her. No. She didn’t look like a whore. She looked like a temptress offering him so bloody much more than sex. It was innocent and sweet and just the slightest bit false because she knew exactly what she was doing to him.

“Master?” Her voice shook just slightly as though worried her game was up.

“Who does it belong to?” It didn’t matter. He knew he should walk away and it didn’t matter because Ian was right. That was his pussy and he couldn’t walk away from it, from her. He might find the strength later, but he couldn’t now. He couldn’t devastate her a second time and he damn straight couldn’t disappoint himself. He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life.

“You.” She met his eyes. “It’s yours for as long as I am.”

He fell on her, using none of his usual grace. He wasn’t an animal in bed. He was always controlled and slightly cool, but not this time. This time his need to brand her beat through his veins, forcing him to spread her legs farther and make a place for himself at her core. With virtually no finesse, he slammed inside her, his cock unable to wait a second more.

She would fight him now. She would see him for what he really was, what he always tried to hide.

Her nails sank into the skin of his shoulders, the pain biting through him with abandon. Her legs wrapped around him, enveloping him. She wasn’t pushing him away. Penelope was fighting to keep him close to her.

He took her mouth as he forced his cock high into her pussy. His tongue slid against hers, dominating her, fighting for control. She didn’t just lie back. She gave as good as she got. Her tongue pressed against him, her mouth allowing him access. The hard points of her nipples rubbed against his chest, and he couldn’t stop the growl that came out of his throat. He let his weight push her into the mattress as he began to thrust in and out.

He wasn’t thinking about the future or the bloody past. There was only Penelope, his sub.

He let go, pounding furiously into her, not giving a damn about anything but sinking his come deep inside her. Over and over, he fucked as far as he could into her. She thrust her pelvis up, taking him deep as her hands slid to his back, leaving her mark there.

She came first, nearly screaming into his mouth. The tiny muscles of her cunt tightened, milking his cock for all they were worth.

He held her tight and rode it out, giving up his come in long jets, letting it find a spot deep inside her body. He’d never taken a lover without a condom and never would again. Only from her would he find this connection, this amazing sensation of nothing being between them.

Pulsing pleasure swept through his body, and even though he was empty, he couldn’t stop his hips from moving against her. He simply let his body sag onto hers, let her run her hands through his hair, soothing him.

His heart pounded, blood rushing through him. Alive. He felt alive when he was with her. Not cold but warm and happy.

If she died, he would let Baz take him.

Fuck. He was going to get her killed because warm and fucking happy didn’t work on an op. Cold. Calculating. He needed to be the same agent Ian Taggart talked about—the one who made the hard decisions. Not the one who slept with his head cradled to his sub’s chest.

He rolled off her, utterly unsure how to handle things. “That was good.”

A stupid thing to say, but he couldn’t think of another way to break the moment between them. He didn’t want to hurt her again.

She laughed a little. “Yes, it was. Now you feel free to run away, Damon. It’s all right. I’m fine. I understand that this is all about sex and this is how all of our sexual sessions end, with you taking a shower and going about your business. I intend to do the same.”

He turned to look at her. She was smiling slightly, utterly unlike what he’d expected. He’d expected tears and regret, but she looked satisfied and relaxed and slightly amused with him. It rankled. Had she not felt what he had? “Is that right?”

“You can’t help it. You’re a very foolish man.” She rolled off the bed with a casualness he wouldn’t have suspected she possessed. “But I’m taking the shower first this time. You left me without hot water last time. I’ll meet you downstairs. We have a conference at eleven, right?”

She stretched, not seeming to mind that she was naked and had the faintest pink sheen to her arse. His cock rumbled again, stiffening as he watched her move. It was perverse. It was exactly what he should want. She was accepting the limitations of their relationship, but he was getting irritated at the very thought. Had she just used him for sex? “Yes.”

“Excellent. There’s time for breakfast then.” She walked away, not bothering with the robe at the end of the bed. “See you later, Damon.”

He watched her walk away, unable to take his eyes off her. What the hell had just happened?

He heard the shower turn on and wondered if he’d created a monster.