Chains of Revenge Page 9

  ‘You’re right. The one thing you did to hurt me was to humiliate me in front of my people. I didn’t like that. I didn’t like being led like a dog.’ Devadas winced and looked away.

  ‘But I doubt you liked it much ten years ago. You wanted to punish for me for the way I treated you. I understand that. But it’s over now. The past is the past. We don’t have to hold on to it.’

  He turned back to her and let his gaze rest on the golden chains. With jerky movements he lifted his hands to her neck to undo the clasp. ‘I have to get this off you. I don’t know what I was thinking.’

  She lifted her hands to grasp his, stilling them.

  ‘I like it. Not all the time, but sometimes the brush of gold at the curve of my breast reminds me of what you do to me, of what we do together. I want that, Devadas. I want to feel you ride me hard, I want you to paddle my ass red, I want to wear your chains, be your slave in bed. But only in bed. Horvald is my life and you are my love. I need both.’

  Lissa pressed against him and grasped his hand, moving it to the hot core between her legs. ‘I want you now. I need you now.’ She titled her head up and nibbled on his ear lobe. ‘Please,’ she begged.

  With a low growl, Devadas lifted her and placed her on the edge of the table. She opened her legs and reached toward him, fumbling with the ties at his breeches. ‘Now,’ she pleaded.

  His cock sprung out, hard and ready. She grabbed it and squeezed. ‘I love the feel of you in my hand. I could play with you all day, but I need more.’

  Leaning back on one elbow, she guided his cock toward her pussy. He pushed her legs open wider and she braced herself for the hard, throbbing thrust she wanted. But he pushed the head of his cock in her then withdrew. She made a sound of annoyance which became a moan of longing as he slid his cock against her clit, then dipped into her pussy again. And again. And again. Soon she was writhing in torment as he continued to tease her clit and pussy, not giving either the attention they deserved and driving Lissa into a frenzy in the process.

  ‘Fuck me, just fuck me,’ she yelled then yelled again when he did exactly that. He buried his cock deep within her, while holding her legs wide open. He grunted with satisfaction then started a steady, intense stroke. She stared up at him while she rubbed her clit, watching the flame of passion and need in his eyes. He pushed her legs back and angled his thrusts so her ass was off the table. As the burgeoning, intoxicating pull of her climax grew, she heard the slap of his balls against her ass and his short, clipped gasps of breath as he built to his own release.

  He closed his eyes and tipped his head back. ‘Fuck,’ he muttered. ‘Lissa, come now. Now.’

  His words pushed her over the edge into a pulsing, raging torrent of pleasure. His cock ploughed into her pussy as her release clutched him tight. She let out a moan that was almost a scream as he tensed and with one last thrust, shot into her.

  He collapsed onto her, holding her tight. She wrapped her legs around his waist and held him.

  ‘You can’t go. You can’t.’

  He lifted his head and stared into her eyes, a wry smile on his face.

  ‘No, I can’t. It seems I’m your slave for life.’

  She laughed and kissed him. ‘As I am yours. Maybe I’ll contact those goldsmiths of Arvo myself.’

  Chapter Thirteen

  One clear spring day, amid garlands of flowers and sheaths of wheat, the Queen of Horvald married her Consort. Instead of crowns they wore bright gold chains around their necks. Their banners repeated the motif with interlocking chains against a deep, red rose.

  After the ceremony, after the speeches, after the dancing and singing, as the night stars wheeled in the sky, Devadas sat with Relno, General of Catiscal and caught up with Catiscal news. Lissa was in a huddle with his mother and Dana. Plotting and planning no doubt.

  Since the departure of Antos and his decision to stay in Horvald to build a life with Lissa, life seemed perfect. They’d spent the last three months getting to know each other properly and working hard as everyone did in Horvald, and Lissa most of all. She was up at dawn and spent most of her day on her feet seemingly everywhere. The most satisfactory part of his new life as Consort to the Queen was easing some of the burden on her shoulders. Now at least she had time to herself, time to just sit or potter around the place, digging in her flower garden.

  ‘Why didn’t you become King?’ Relno asked suddenly. ‘Why just a Consort?’

  Devadas took a sip of his ale and considered his reply. ‘I didn’t build this town or worry over every decision or every task. Lissa did, often in the face of her father’s opposition. She did everything she could for the good of Horvald. And she continues to do so. She’s better at ruling than me.’

  Relno grunted. ‘It seems I’ve underestimated women, like a lot of Catiscalians. Don’t get me wrong, I still think the women of Horvald have too much freedom …’

  Devadas grinned, but said nothing.

  ‘… But I have to admit, Queen Lissa is doing a fine job of ruling Horvald. Princess Dana isn’t doing a bad job either. In fact, there’s a lot to be said for peace.’ He barked out a laugh. ‘Never thought I’d hear myself say that.’

  ‘Don’t get too comfortable. The High King could call on our armies at any time. And let’s not forget both our lands are rich and fertile. The Warlord Death might have retired but others still eye our borders.’

  Relno glanced over at the three women, engrossed in conversation. ‘I’m sure they have a plan. They seem to have a plan for everything.’ He sighed and released a notch in his belt. ‘Including this belly of mine. Princess Dana keeps making me train with your men. Says I’m getting too complacent.’

  Devadas laughed. ‘Luc and Alain will sort you out. They thrive on competition. They’ll try and outdo each other on who can make you suffer the most.’

  Relno groaned and downed more ale. ‘Best make the most of good times while I can. Ah, I see that kinswoman of your wife, Ris, is free for a dance. Maybe I could work off this extra flesh and have some fun at the same time.’

  He wandered off to where Ris, flushed and happy, was resting after a vigorous dance with one of the townsfolk. Devadas watched her enthusiastic acceptance of Relno’s invitation to dance with amusement. He might be in for more fun than he bargained with her.

  Speculation on the future sexual discoveries of others made him search again for his wife. She was laughing at something his mother was saying. Her wild hair was still threaded with flowers and through the filmy silk of her dress, her curves made his mouth water. He had to get her away from the crowd. A celebration was all well and good, but it was their wedding night. He took a last sip of his ale and stood.

  As if she sensed his desire from across the room, she turned and smiled at him. Not just the smile of a fond wife, no, a smile full of mischief and promise: a wanton smile.

  His cock immediately hardened. He tipped his head toward the Great House and saw her nod in reply. As he made his way to the house, leaving behind the revelling townsfolk, he saw her whisper something to Dana who was too engrossed in conversation with her mother to reply. No one noticed as she slipped away. Excellent. He didn’t think he could endure a ribald bedding ceremony.

  She joined him as they reached the house.

  ‘Quick,’ he said, ‘let’s get upstairs before they notice we’ve gone.’

  They raced up the stairs to their bedroom. Devadas shuttered the window and barred the door. He didn’t want to make it easy for any drunken revellers intent on practical jokes to get in. Satisfied the room was secure, he made quick work of undressing.

  ‘I have a wedding gift for you,’ Lissa said. He turned and smiled at his bride, naked except for the gold harness framing her beautiful breasts. Her nipples were already taut and ready for his ministrations. In her hand, more gold glittered.

  ‘What is it?’

  She smiled and knelt in front of his stirring cock, which lengthened as she slipped a ring made of small chains of gold onto him.
It fit snuggly, tightening as he hardened.

  ‘Who’s the Consort in Chains now?’ she said then licked the head of his cock. He pulled her up then lifted her, carrying her to their bed.

  ‘Me,’ he said. ‘Now and forever.’

  About the Author

  After quite a few years working in the criminal justice system, Keziah Hill decided a tree change was needed so decamped to the blissful Blue Mountains, west of Sydney, Australia. Amid a garden full of flowering blossoms, roses and the odd marauding possum, she writes steamy erotic romance and romantic suspense while trying not to procrastinate too much.

  ISBN: 9780857990020

  Title: Chains of Revenge

  Copyright © 2012 by Deborah Allen

  All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises (Australia) Limited, Locked Bag 7002, Chatswood D.C. NSW, Australia, 2067.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

  ® and ™ are trademarks of Harlequin Enterprises Limited and are used under license to the Publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in Australia, New Zealand, the United States Patent and Trademark Office and in other countries.

  www.escapepublishing.com.au

  Keep reading for an excerpt from In Safe Hands by Lee Christine

  “You want me to locate and recover naked photographs of you?”

  It took all of Allegra’s self-control not to squirm in the plush leather seat as she stared at Luke Neilson across the polished surface of his office desk. To his credit, the man didn’t bat an eyelid, and why would he? Former Special Air Services, he’d probably seen everything, and more.

  Breaking eye contact, she reached for the glass of water he’d poured for her at the start of the meeting, dismayed to find her hand unsteady. “Does your company handle such cases?”

  His gun-metal grey eyes narrowed and he gave her a sardonic half-smile. “Reconnaissance and retrieval? Come on Ms. Greenwood. You know we do.”

  Unable to meet his eyes, Allegra sipped her water and glanced beyond his rugged features, to where the Sydney Harbour Bridge arched resplendent in the window behind him. If the photograph appeared on the Internet, she’d lose her position at Grace and Poole Lawyers. And losing wasn’t an option.

  With an effort she looked squarely at him, hoping her desperation didn’t show in her eyes. “I wondered whether you’d agree to see me.”

  He lifted his eyebrows and leaned back in the chair. “I was curious. We should have won the contract for your firm’s investigative work, but you drew a line through our name.”

  Allegra’s face flushed with heat. “You kissed me at the Meet and Greet. You left me no option.”

  He shrugged his broad shoulders. “It’s not often I misread the signals. And I did apologise, though I don’t remember you accepting.”

  “It was unprofessional.”

  He drummed his fingers on the desk, his eyes turning a colder shade of grey. “You broke your own ‘don’t mix business with pleasure’ rule. It spooked you into signing a second rate firm. Now that’s unprofessional.”

  How could she argue with the truth? Neilson’s were the most highly qualified team of ballistics experts in the country, their services sought after. A veteran of Iraq and Afghanistan, Luke Neilson’s evidence had sent many a criminal to prison. His agency was top notch, his security and investigation service second to none.

  Allegra took an unsteady breath. “I was angry. I thought you were trying to charm me into granting your firm the contract, with the promise of a—a physical relationship.”

  His eyes flashed and he gave an exasperated shake of his head. “You insult me, Ms. Greenwood. What made you change your mind?”

  Allegra’s face burned. God, could this be any more embarrassing?

  “What can I say?” She took an unsteady breath. “I allowed my personal feelings to influence my decision. Is that going to pose a problem now?”

  He leaned back, completely at ease, short cropped, dark blonde hair glinting in the sunlight, broad shoulders encased in an expensive striped business shirt.

  “I never let personal feelings interfere with business, so no.” A shadow of a smile touched his lips, his observant eyes never leaving her face. “Tell me more about the naked photograph, and we’ll see if we can work something out.”

  Allegra studied the contours of his face, the faded scar on his right cheek. It made him look sexy as all hell, the imperfection giving his handsome features an interesting edge.

  She swallowed, her mouth dry. There was no turning back.

  “Any time today will do…”

  His dry tone jolted her into action, and she looked down at the leather satchel in her lap. She lifted the flap, and slowly withdrew a printed sheet of paper, which she passed across the desk.

  “It came this morning by bicycle courier.”

  He slid open a drawer and took out plastic tweezers. Using the instrument, he snared the sheet from her, carefully unfolding it so he could look at the picture.

  It took a superhuman effort to sit still as he looked at her naked image, much the way a doctor would look at a patient’s sore throat. Allegra went hot all over, then icy cold, sweat breaking out on her brow. Digging her fingernails into the palms of her hands, she watched as he carefully folded the sheet and set it to one side.

  What was he thinking?

  Avoiding her eyes, he rose and turned to a filing cabinet a few steps from the desk. “Who took possession of this?” he asked.

  She cleared her throat, gripping the handle of the satchel. “Our receptionist at Grace and Poole. From there it came to my office on the fifth floor.”

  He pulled out a drawer and extracted a manila folder. Sliding the steel drawer closed with a bang, he sank down into his chair, eyes averted as he turned to stare at the computer monitor on his desk.

  Allegra got the distinct impression he was giving her time to compose herself, and if that were the case she was grateful for the small courtesy he extended. The former SAS Commander had found his inner gentleman. Who would have thought?

  “Anyone else see it?” He jabbed at the keyboard.

  “No, my PA knows anything marked Private and Confidential is never to be opened.”

  Finally he turned to look at her. “Do you have the envelope?”

  She nodded, reaching into the satchel again and sliding it across the desk. “What do make of this?”

  She watched his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “That’s a relic.”

  “I know.” She leaned forward and peered at the old brown envelope with the brass fastener. “It must be, what, fifty years old?”

  “Easily.” He snagged the envelope in the tweezers, turning it this way and that as he checked it out. “It’s an old document packet.”

  “Yes, the type used to store wills and deeds. We have some like this in our safe custody. No unused ones though—I checked.”

  “They weren’t exclusive to legal offices.” His brow furrowed in thought. “Banks, building societies, government departments have all used these in the past.”

  He set it next to the photograph. “It won’t be easy, but we might be able to get a print.”

  She nodded, continuing to watch as he switched on a handset recording device and placed it between them on the desk.

  “Want to give me the background story on this Ms. Greenwood?”

  A
llegra exhaled slowly in an attempt to slow her breathing, a tactic which worked well before the opening statement of a trial. As a criminal lawyer, she should find this interview a breeze. Still, it felt weird being on the other side of the desk.

  “Could we at least drop the formality?” she asked, moistening her dry lips with her tongue. “Ms.Greenwood sounds like a dorm matron.”

  His exasperated look suggested she tested his patience. “All right, first names it is. Can we get on with this now?”

  She nodded, the small victory satisfying.

  “Okay.” He depressed the button on the recording device. “Who took this photograph and when?”

  “This is one of fifteen.” Her cheeks grew warm again as she watched for a change in his expression, but it appeared to be painted on, Venetian mask style. “They were taken in Melbourne eight years ago when I was twenty-one. I was a law student at the time. My boyfriend, Chris Noble, took them.”

  He gave a derisive snort. “Noble?”

  Allegra narrowed her eyes. “Very funny.”

  He glanced at the folded sheet on the desk, though he didn’t take a second look at it. “It’s hardly a snapshot taken by a sleazy ex-boyfriend, it’s professionally done.”

  “It is. He’s a professional photographer.” Allegra moved her heavy satchel onto the floor and crossed her legs, uneasy at discussing her private life. “We met while working on the launch of a new hair product. I made ends meet with promotions work, waitressing, anything really.”

  Stop babbling, just answer the questions.

  “Nothing unusual there.” He shook his head, the white flash of even teeth complimenting the golden tan of his face. “God knows I turned my hand to anything that would earn a buck. But posing naked, were these a gift to him?”

  Allegra shook her head.

  His eyes narrowed. “Because if you did gift them to him, legally they’re his property.”