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There were women here. He blinked as he saw a long-legged, tawny-skinned creature with hair past her buttocks ambling with the sway of a pendulum by the water’s edge. A leopard twined around her calves, bumping her hand to make her stroke the spotted head.
Naked. The woman was completely naked and… As she turned, he thought the sun showed her dusky skin marked with a faint pattern like the leopard. Even more startling, when her lips curved, tiny sharp canines glittered just over her full bottom lip.
Two other women lounged on the green grass of the banks. One was asleep. The other, a blonde, was stroking the napping one’s red hair and braiding it into tiny tails, just the tip ends so the mass of it remained loose and thick on her pale shoulders.
Shoulders seemingly unaffected by the bright sunlight. Another trio of women played some type of game under the palm trees. His eyes widened. The game apparently involved the playful teasing of a cobra. The snake rose up to take a scrap of meat from one woman’s fingers as she crooned to it, while the other women played with its coils.
It paid no attention to them in favor of the treat.
“Did I… I’m dreaming. ”
“You may have nodded off for a little while,” Dona agreed. He realized then his boots and jeans were back on, though he wasn’t wearing the scratchy prison underwear anymore. He was back in his seat, though he didn’t remember moving or arranging his clothes. No more than he remembered taking his shirt off, though now her hand was on his shoulder, caressing his bare skin. She’d had hold of his cock, he’d been on the edge of explosion and he’d nodded off? What the hell…
She parked the car on a patch of green under one of the palms. Reaching over again, she ran her hand down his chest and caressed the indentation of his navel, her other fingers playing over his sectioned stomach. “So how many times did your fine ass and pretty face get you raped before you learned how to use these muscles?”
“It doesn’t matter. Once you teach them it won’t happen without someone dying or walking away maimed, the past doesn’t matter. ”
“So why didn’t you charm or manipulate them like you try to do your Mistresses?
Why did you fight them, every time?”
He was too confounded by the change in landscape to get his mind around how she would know all of that. He knew the answer to the question, though. Because no one was taking what he wasn’t willing to give. Even if it was just a response to a question.
So he just shrugged.
“What is this place?”
“This is one of my favorite playgrounds. Come. Get out and leave the shirt. This is where we’ll get you cleaned up. ”
When he got out, he looked back at the dusty road, the ribbon of highway now farther in the distance than he remembered the drive to the oasis being. A deserted highway on which there’d not been a single car other than hers. The Mercedes was the only vehicle here as well, despite the presence of the other women. “Is this far from the prison?”
“Very far. Or not far at all, depending on your perspective.
” When she walked across the grass, he was forced to follow if he wanted to continue the dialogue. He was amazed at how easily she walked in those high heels. With a sauntering stride, her ass twitching left and right in a way designed to make him not really give a damn about the unlikely nature of their surroundings or the lack of logic to them. He’d sworn to make no more mistakes like the one that had landed him in prison, though. Self-preservation had to be his first priority in any situation. “Dona. Where are we?” She stopped but kept her back to him. The breeze fluttered through her hair as she turned her head, just enough for him to see her profile, the red lips, dark eyes and lashes lowered over them behind the sunglasses.
“This is part of my home. One small part of it. ” The wind died. Clouds closed in on the sun so abruptly it was as if a curtain had been drawn over it by human hands, a curtain that couldn’t shut out an ominous rumble like thunder.
“It is my home. ” She repeated it, almost a snarl. Fascinated, he saw her fingers close into clenched fists at her sides, her chin thrust up in defiance.
A blink and abruptly the sun was out again, the curtain drawn away as if it had never been there. The six women, who had gone still at that rumble, resumed their movement and idle play. The wind gusted through the palm fronds then settled back to a mild breeze, as if someone had sighed.
Giving a slight nod, apparently satisfied, Dona looked back at him. “I told you to come with me. Why are you way back there? Have you forgotten how to obey a Mistress as well?”
This was all tipping the bizarre meter, enough to make him think he’d be better off heading back to the highway and hitching to the seedy hotel he’d intended for his first night. But maybe the heat had gotten to him. He’d stood out in front of the prison for a while, hadn’t he? If this was just a part of her home, Dona had to be loaded. Mega wealthy. Why should he be afraid of her? In prison, he’d gotten used to anticipating the less subtle reactions of men. It was time to sharpen the instincts that he’d once kept honed to surgical precision to pick up on a woman’s deepest needs and fears. She’d just demonstrated that there was something that could get under her skin. He needed to push aside the lingering self-doubt caused by the nearly fatal mistake he’d made with his last Mistress. He’d learned since then. He wouldn’t make the same mistakes, miss the cues he’d missed with her.
Sweeping his lashes down, he took the first true step away from his current existence and back toward Jonathan Powell, the polished blue-eyed, blond-haired Norse god that so many women had eyed with covetous appreciation at The Zone, True Blue and the other BDSM clubs he’d frequented. Only this version would be new and improved. Way smarter. “My apologies, Mistress,” he murmured. “I don’t feel well-groomed enough to serve your needs properly. You deserve a slave who has shaved and showered. ”
“Yes, I do. I’ll attend to those things. Your only job is to obey me. Take off your clothes again. ”
At the order, the three women playing with the cobra stopped. The napping woman woke up and the leopard woman turned to watch, her golden eyes narrowed in the exact same expression as the great cat who took a seat on the grass next to her while the water lapped at the woman’s bare ankles. For some reason, it brought to mind the Waterhouse painting of the nymphs coming out of the water to drag Hylas to his death with the promise of pleasure. Anxiety settled low in his belly. This was a fear that could not be countered with violence. Somehow he’d felt less isolated among men who might kill or beat him unmercifully for the barest transgression than he felt among all these attentive women.
“Too long, Jonathan. You need a reminder. ”
Dona was upon him before he knew it. Even as he spun in surprised reaction, her arm swept forward. Suddenly there were… It must have been knives she pulled out from a hidden sheath in the back waistband of those painted-on pants, for it couldn’t be what he thought he saw. Her fingernails elongating into talons, slicing the waistband of his jeans like silk before a sword blade. The garment fell from him, slit on both sides from the waist to just above the kneecaps. When she drew back to go lower, he hastily shucked them, taking them to his ankles and stumbling, falling onto his ass as he encountered the obstruction of his boots.
She stood over him, her hands on her hips. The weapon, for surely it was a weapon she’d used more quickly than his eyes could follow, was gone. Tucked back into her waistband, perhaps. Fear was ice in his belly when she smiled, her gaze traveling over his naked body.
“Much better. Get the rest off. Now. ”
