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I lay on my bed, arms folded beneath my chin, staring out of my window at the night sky, contemplating the events of the day. The news of the confrontation between Kaylin and Evarrim at the Merchant's Guild was disturbing, but nothing I couldn't handle. Still, she fled to him. Not to me, the one who has guarded her; guided her. She chose the outcaste. She will never know how much that stung.

Not she, or Tain. The one with whom I made that stupid bet. Let him see my annoyance. He suspects how fond I've grown of her, but I've never shared. I never will. Even he, dear as he is, cannot be trusted. Just thinking of him brings back the rest of the day: the wicked, delicious rest of the day. I frowned as consider how to make him suffer for that display in the drill circle. Even now, hours later, I feel the heat of desire and the throb of its denial. Perhaps I will make him do something about that before I have my retribution.

Time enough for that later; back to the kitling. I wonder what she truly found when she ran to the fiefs. Nightshade has released her many times, not taking what he has claimed. Perhaps he will once again bow to her fear: an unexpected weakness, that. Not something expected from him. I wonder if perhaps he is as bad for her as I think, and then quickly recant the thought. He is outcaste. Nothing more matters where he is concerned. I should have followed through on my initial offer, but too late for regrets now.

I glance at the position of the moon. Soon, he will be here, his last statement an order that I have refused. Yes, he will come and demand his price. I smile slowly. He will come on my terms; to my home. His pride may be slightly wounded, but he will come to me. In anger, not weakness, yet still it is my door he will grace and not the reverse. He will enter in full, deep blue fury and I will watch in satisfaction as I turn those eyes violet: violet for me. I begin to plan exactly how I will make that happen.

As if on cue, my door slams open. My emerald eyes meet sapphire as I look up at the magnificent fury of my Barrani lover framed in the doorway. I raise an eyebrow. "Management won't like it if you damage the building," I warn.

I consider the scene as he must see it for a moment. The room is sparse, but to my taste. A large mahogany wardrobe is situated in the far corner, opposite the door he stands in. A thick cream rug covers a polished hardwood floor. I bay window on the adjacent wall, with large bed underneath it. On the bed lay me. I am on my stomach, arms folded beneath my head, atop the soft blankets, wearing a silk-soft short robe; belted, not buttoned.

"You're late," he breaks in.

"Not late," I correct. "Not coming." Provocation is good for him, or at least for what I want him to do to me. I roll onto my back and stretch my arms up high over my head, moving my breasts the way he likes it. I see a hint of lavender come and go. He's being difficult tonight. The game will continue.

"I already told you. We don't know what happened, and I'll concede nothing until it's clear that I've lost. But if you want to come over here and finish what you started this afternoon…" I curl the tips of my fingers beneath the edge of my robe and slowly draw a hand down, between my breasts to rest on my stomach and wait. The door closes as gently as it was opened, and I am no longer alone on the bed.

He sits beside me, gently tracing the path of my hand; a light, teasing touch that opens my robe enough to display the inner curve of my breasts. The trail of warmth he leaves behind spreads outward deliciously as he rests his larger hand atop mine. His other hand captures the wrist above my head and his head bows down to meet mine. Deep blue burns into me as he moves closer and I feel his weight bear down as if to immobilize me. I feel the fall of his silken hair as it pools in my cleavage. I meet him halfway and capture his lips; allowing him the illusion of control for the moment. He returns my kiss hard, demanding. I feel my head forced back into the pillows as he takes control. I arch into him as he moves to my earlobe, nipping gently before moving on to my neck. He is a thorough lover who will leave no inch of me unexplored as if touching me, tasting me for the first time. I lift my chin to provide the access he desires and I am rewarded with a gentle sucking on my neck. The lavender gains ground as I moan and I feel a smile of satisfaction curve his lips.

I know this game well; know how his power of my body makes him hard. Every reaction he pulls from me deepens his desire. Every sound validates that his touch makes me melt. His violet eyes make me want to surrender all to him. Only him. He knows this and it is headier to him than the finest wine. The combination of desire and power fills him and he becomes the most attentive lover, content to fill my every desire. The danger of the game is that I react the same. I know that the more I give, the more I surrender, the more control I lose, the more power I have over him. I get drunk on the ability to make my man want me. Power and weakness become confused and all that remains is need and fulfillment.

I feel my belt tugged open and the satin of my robe slides down my body to pool beside me. I am conscious of how I lay exposed to him. My long body is stretched naked before him, breasts tight with need, his dark hair a contrast to my pale skin, the smooth curve of my hips. I burn where his gaze touches me as he surveys the impact of his attention on my body. The deep violet that I have craved tells me the game is over and I know my eyes are a mirror to his.

I tug my hands free and relieve him of his shirt as he lifts me kneel beside him on the bed. My palms slide down his smooth chest. His skin under my hands combines with the glide of satin on my back to make me shiver. Without losing contact, I bring my hands to his shoulders, digging my nails into his skin as I run my tongue along his neck. His hair brushes my back as he responds and firm hands slide up my thighs to grasp my rear and press me into him. My legs spread slightly in response and I am on my back again with Tain on top of me. Through his pants I feel how ready he is. I lift my hips and grind against him, the heat making him even harder. I rake my nails down his back, finding his waistband. Placing fingertips below the band I follow it until I am between our bodies, easily unfastening the clasp. I draw my legs up his using my feet to slide the pants down his legs, removing the last barrier between us. He responds by driving deep inside of me. I wrap my legs around his waist, matching his thrusts. I lift on to my elbows and arc my back. His mouth closes over my breast and I feel my climax begin.

When my body shudders, he rolls onto his back, planning me on top of him, opening his access to my body. He watches as I move over him, his hands gently pushing my hair behind my shoulders so that he can watch me. I feel myself tighten on his cock as he fills me. Hands toy with my nipples. What remains of thought vanishes as my body takes control in orgasm. I feel his movements beneath me become more erratic and he too succumbs. I feel his fingers dig into my hips and he moves me to his tempo. I feel his release begin just as I am recovering from mine and I tighten my inner muscles to intensify it. He rises up and I capture him in my arms. Less gently, I bite his shoulder and hear him cry out. His arms surround me and I am pulled back to the bed to lie on top of him. I rest my head on his chest, feel his fingers as they play in my hair, listen as his ragged breathing becomes more even.

I close my eyes and let my mind drift content for the moment and hear the soft words.

"Well met."