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“Yes, Master.” I kept my voice flat. The exhilaration of the hunt still raced in my blood. The thrill of being with my Lady out on the astral. I begrudged the fact that he enjoyed it, but at least I wasn’t left with the memory.
Hyto seemed to sense that he’d exposed too much emotion, because he pulled away and the intense aloofness returned. “Footstool. Now.”
“Yes, Master.” I frantically looked around for one, but there was none in sight.
“Don’t be an idiot.” He kicked me again, this time in the side, and I fell back, suddenly realizing what he’d meant.
Shuddering, I went down, on all fours, in front of him, and he propped his heavy boots across my back. “Now, don’t move. Not an inch. Let’s see how well you obey your father-in-law, girl.”
I couldn’t see him from the direction I was facing, could see nothing but stone and—out of the corner of my eye—the fire burning in the fire pit. How long would he keep me in this position? I knew he was punishing me for making him enjoy himself. He probably would have gone easier on me if I’d sucked at giving him a blow job.
After ten minutes, my back started to ache. I was a strong woman, but the combination of remaining on hands and knees while his feet—in those godawful boots—were digging into my back was starting to really hurt, especially against the abrasions he’d already put there. I winced but kept my mouth shut.
Fifteen minutes and I desperately wanted to shift, but I forced myself to remain in position. Twenty minutes, and he’d still made no move to let me up. By now, I had the backache from hell and wasn’t sure how much longer I could stand this. It wasn’t like playing horsey with Maggie while I was down on the floor, or even like sex play with my lovers. This was serious muscle-spasm time.
After a few more minutes, I decided to chance a glance up at him.
Hell. He was staring directly at me, lips curved in a half grin, half snarl, like a wolf waiting to attack. His eyes were glinting with a perverse joy and I realized he’d been waiting for me to break. I quickly looked away, but it was too late.
“So, you can’t take an order.” His feet hit the floor.
“I’m sorry, Master. I’m sorry.” I broke out in a cold sweat. This wasn’t going to be good, I knew it in my gut.
“You have a complaint? Maybe you don’t like being related to me?” He leaned forward. Despite every inclination I had, I forced myself to stay in position. Run, and he might kill me.
“No complaints, Master.”
His face inches from mine now, his eyes took on a cold, hard edge.
“The expression on your face tells me otherwise. So my hospitality is not to your liking, my daughter-in-law?” Suddenly he was standing, towering over me, all seven-plus feet of him. I instinctively scrambled away, but he caught me with that damned hair of his, holding me so tight I could barely breathe. After a moment, he used it to force me over a slab of rock, facedown, and brushed my hair from my back. Then, another long strand of his hair knotted into a harsh braided whip and, with a bone-jarring crack, he brought it sweeping across my lower back, right where the strain had been the worst.
My composure vanished. I screamed as the lashes fell, the bite of the braided hair stinging against my flesh. I could feel the welts rising.
“You are not my equal! Do you hear me? You are not my equal!” With each fall of the lash, Hyto grew more frenzied. After six strokes, he jerked away, panting, his hair coiling like snakes around his head.
I rolled over on my side, staring up at him, mute, unable to do more than stifle the sobs that lurched up in my throat. His eyes flashed and I knew we were at a pivotal point. I could so easily die if I made one wrong move.
“I would kill you now . . . I would kill you . . . but it would spoil my plans.” In a ragged voice, he railed against me. “How dare you lure my son away? How dare you set him up to take my place? To strike me down in his mother’s eyes? How dare you come into my family and ruin my life! You are a worthless lump of flesh. You are less than the worms of the fields. Slut—cow! Filthy mortal!”
I said nothing. Did nothing. My life was hanging by a thread.
Hyto caught me up, his hair so tight around my wrist that it felt like the bones were going to break. He pulled me close, eye level, and a sickly grin spread across his face. “Now, I think you shall learn what it feels like to ride a real dragon and not that weak son of mine.”
Gritting my teeth, I began to disassociate. I heard the swish of his robe as he pulled it back, and the next moment he was inside me, ramrod hard and fierce. With every grunt, he reverberated through my body like another fist in my stomach.
Menolly withstood this . . . she withstood worse . . . she was strong. She made it through hell and back. I can make it through this. I will survive this. I won’t ever let him win—he can violate my body but he cannot violate my soul.
“You like this? Answer me, slave!” He yanked on my hair, so hard I shrieked. “Remember who your master is, Camille.” The warning was so charged I had to respond.
“Yes . . . yes, Master . . .” The words echoed out of my mouth, but they were hollow husks floating on the wind with no power put into them. They meant nothing to me.
“I will kill you slowly, in front of him. My son will watch you die in agony, and he will know he could do nothing to stop me.”
After a few moments he tore away, grabbing me by the wrist and tossing me across the room, like a rag doll. I landed on the floor with a bone-numbing thud. Sucking in a deep breath, I glared at him through the tears and snot running down from my nose, no longer caring about his anger.
“Smoky loves me. He’s my husband. I will always know he loves me. Do you understand that? You can beat me, you can kill me a thousand times over and I’ll take that knowledge to my grave.”
He stood there panting, staring at me, and then with a terrible cry he was at my side, kicking me square in the hip. I screamed as he yelled for Hanna.
