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Authors: Ann Jacobs

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“Not all Doms are sadists. I certainly am
not one. That brand was the work of the fiend who nearly killed my sister, and
it was done without Amber’s consent.”

The healer shot a doubtful look Cole’s way.
“I will go now that your sister is out of danger. She will sleep, possibly for
twenty-four hours or more. Someone will need to observe her and contact me if
anything changes. I will check Amber before I leave.”

 

For a long time Cole stayed with Ciel, but when
she still slept peacefully after half a day, he left her with a staff member
and took a break. He needed some time away, needed to shower and eat and be
sure everything was going as planned to ready the club for the grand opening.

Something drew him to Amber’s bedside.
Ignoring his fatigue and everything he needed to do, he pulled a chair up
beside her bed and watched her sleep on her side, her cheek pressed to the
pillow in an almost childish pose. An unfamiliar sense of tenderness overcame
him and he reached out and stroked her soft blonde hair back from her face.

When she woke, she turned her head and
looked over at him with innocent-looking golden eyes.

“Here, try to drink a little of this,” he
said as he held a cup of cold water to her lips. She wasn’t so weak that she
couldn’t have held it for herself, but he wouldn’t let her. He dismissed the
question of why he was insisting that she take her pill from his hand and slake
her thirst by letting him serve her.

There was no question. Cole knew why he wanted
to do for Amber what she could do for herself. He wanted her. But she belonged
to his sister. He had to get a grip on his emotions—and his lust.

“How is Ciel?” Her gaze was on him now as
he raised his weary head from his hands and focused on her. Pale and shaken yet
apparently no longer in severe pain, she managed a smile, then repeated, “What
did he do to Ciel?”

“She’ll survive. Barely. The bastard
force-fed her enough drugs to choke a horse.” Cole stood, walked around the bed
and pulled back the covers, grimacing when he looked at the angry wound that
covered Amber’s left ass cheek. “The medic told me that when this heals it will
be the bastard’s initials. Apparently it can be removed with a series of skin
grafts. She also mentioned it could be modified now, while it still is raw, and
turned into something more attractive before your skin begins to mend itself.”

Amber shuddered, as though the idea of
enduring more of the excruciating pain Dax had inflicted terrified her.
Stepping back, Cole pulled the sheet back up over a sort of platform the medic
had erected to keep the covers from touching her wound and causing more
discomfort. “Ulrica told me that the modification would be done with a laser
tool and you’d be sedated,” he said, even as ire built in him that she had
thought he would permit her to endure another old-fashioned branding in his
home.

“How would she modify the design?”
Obviously Amber wasn’t thrilled at having the sadistic Dom’s initials
emblazoned on her body even for the short time until she healed and the brand
could be surgically removed. That pleased Cole immeasurably.

“Ulrica said a skilled laser artist could
turn those initials into a simple flower. A lily, maybe. Or a rose. Would you
like that?”

“I believe I would like it if it were done
on your order, Master Cole.”

Amber, calling him Master? They’d been
playmates, friends…equals. He had tried never to let himself consider her as a
potential slave. In fact, he’d often had to remind himself that he assumed she
was the exclusive property of his sister, not so much in a sexual way as in the
manner of a companion, a submissive follower who Ciel could dangle like a
carrot in the faces of other Dommes and Doms she wanted to impress.

But the wanting had been there, Cole knew,
even though he’d buried his lust deeply under a veneer of friendship. He
recalled many nights when he’d slept and dreamed of tasting Amber’s soft pink
lips, feeling those lips stretched around his cock. He’d fantasized about
claiming her cunt and ass until she came as she’d never come before.

He grew dizzy as blood rushed to his cock.
Hell, just thinking about her got him rock-hard and turned his brain to mush.
“My order? Are you saying you want to be my slave?”

The look in Amber’s golden eyes when she
raised her gaze to his slammed into Cole’s gut. “If that would please you,
Master.” She seduced him with a worshipful gaze and honeyed words, and that
made him wild with lust. He had to take her. He wanted to mark her as his
possession in every way he knew.

Except with a brand. Or in any other manner
that would put a permanent sign of his ownership on her flesh.

Unfortunately, he would have to do that or
wait for the signs of Dax’s abuse to be obliterated. Once again, Cole wished
that he’d killed Petrone when he’d had the opportunity. He pictured that
bastard holding her, ignoring her pleas to stop, cooking the tender flesh of
her buttock with red-hot metal.

Had the pervert had an orgasm while he’d
been making her flesh sizzle, inflicting unthinkable agony on Amber’s helpless
body? As Cole traced the faint blue line that marked her jugular vein, he
realized how small, how fragile she really was. “It would please me to take
you, to control you, to care for you. But what about Ciel? What is your
relationship with her?”

“I love her as a sister. We have never been
lovers, except when it pleased her to use me that way in order to torture her
slave of the moment. Will she recover fully from whatever it was that Master
Dax gave her?”

Cole shook his head. “I’m not sure, but
Ulrica thinks she’ll eventually be all right. I know that if—when—Ciel comes
back to us in spirit as well as fact, I will insist she get some therapy. This
baiting she likes to do with sociopathic Doms like Dax will eventually be the
death of her.”

Amber reached out and touched Cole’s hand.
“Master, I don’t believe Ciel is a true Domme.”

“You think she’s a switch?” Cole doubted
that, but it certainly was a possibility he was willing to consider.

“No, I’ve always believed she’s a
submissive who’s determined to resist that part of her psyche. It makes sense
when you think about the fact that she’s the oldest child of a very powerful
father who expects less from her than from you just because she’s female.” When
Amber turned her head toward Cole, she gave him a smile that brought out every
protective instinct he’d ever had. “Unlike me. I want nothing more from life
than to be enslaved by a loving master. By you.”

Cole wanted desperately to crawl into that
bed and take Amber. He longed to make her his in every way. But he couldn’t,
not now. What she needed at the moment was tenderness, time to heal. “Keep that
thought in mind until you’re well again, ready to give yourself fully to me.
Never doubt that I yearn to claim you. For now, though, I’m going to watch over
you, take care of you. I want to give you the time you need to make sure you
heal properly.” He paused, bent and brushed his lips across hers. “I’ve waited
years for you, you know.”

She reached over and took his hand. “You
need not wait any longer, Master.”

“Yes. I do. Claiming you the way I want to
would only make this hurt more.” He laid a hand on the opposite buttock from
the raw wound of the brand, caressed her gently.

“Will you please change the brand, Master?”

He could live with looking at Petrone’s
initials but he sensed that Amber could not. “Yes, sweetheart. I’ll send for
the laser artist now.” When he reached the door, he paused. Damn it, he hated
the thought of causing her more pain. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure, Master. If I’m going to wear a
brand, I want it to be yours.”

“All right. Just know, I would never have
chosen to mark you if—”

“I know you wouldn’t. It’s okay.”

Chapter Two

 

He couldn’t watch, yet he couldn’t make
himself leave. Cole paced in front of a window in Amber’s room looking out on
Obsidion’s rugged terrain. He tried to imagine the scene a year from now, after
the straggly trees and shrubs he had planted grew up to lend some green to a
setting that was now mostly jagged rock and hard clay riddled with shifting
crevices in its arid surface.

Every time the stench of burning flesh
began to gag him, he reminded himself that Ulrica had sedated Amber before the
laser artist began her work. He had seen her inject the powerful local
anesthetic and observed Amber’s expression soften, her fists unclench as the
drug had numbed her tortured flesh.

He had to tell himself over and over that
Amber felt nothing that the artist was doing to transform Petrone’s entwined
initials. She’d assured them that the brand would heal to look like a graceful lily
once she was done.

But Cole was impatient. He wanted the
procedure finished. Who knew how long it would be before the anesthetic wore
off? “How much longer will it take?”

He steeled himself before turning away from
the window and moving to the bedside. He had to see for himself exactly what
was going on.

“The design is almost finished now. Would
you care to take a look?” The artist straightened and set the laser tool in its
cradle.

The first thing Cole saw were tears
streaming from Amber’s eyes, staining her cheeks and dampening the pillow. “You
hurt her,” he ground out as fury bubbled up inside him and threatened to spill
over into action. He’d never before felt so protective or so possessive of a
woman—certainly not of a woman he’d never fucked. Never even kissed or touched
in a carnal way.

He liked the feeling, this new depth of
emotion that compelled him to take care of Amber. Not just her sexual needs but
her general well-being. He took another step forward when he saw smoke rise off
Amber’s flesh.

“Stop now.” He grasped the artist’s hand as
she was about to pick up the laser again.

She spoke through clenched teeth. “I will
not tolerate your interfering. Your slave is completely numb. She can’t feel a
thing. Please believe that I would not cause her further distress.”

Amber reached over and took Cole’s hand.
“She isn’t hurting me, Master.”

“Then why do I see tears streaming down
your cheeks?”

She smiled, a soft look in her eyes. “I cry
when I’m happy, and I’m very happy now because I will soon be wearing your mark
and not Master Dax’s.”

Amber might be happy but Cole wasn’t. He
wanted to storm the jail, find Petrone and kill him. But what he wanted wasn’t
nearly as important as caring for Amber. She was numb now, but she’d be
suffering agonizing pain before long—pain she’d endured mostly because of what
that bastard had done but also partially because of what she felt for Cole.

He’d never felt so fucking helpless,
standing by and watching as the artist transformed the initials of a madman
into an equally raw but ultimately pleasing image of a graceful lily of the
valley.

Just as the artist was putting away her
tools, the door opened and Ulrica stepped inside. “If you wish, I can leave
some medicine that will dull Amber’s pain once the anesthetic wears off.”

“Of course I wish. Why ever would you
believe I’d want her to suffer?” From the expression on Ulrica’s face, Cole
doubted that she believed him.

“Sir…” Ulrica spoke hesitantly, as though
she wasn’t sure he wanted to hear what she had to say. “Until her wound heals,
someone will need to apply the ointment I will give you, several times each
day. If you’d like me to, I can show one of your staff members how to tend it.”

“I will tend her myself.” He’d consider it
a labor of love, touching her so intimately yet not taking his pleasure of her
while she healed. For the first time ever, Cole found that he wanted to take
care of a woman, not just sexually but in every way. And not just any woman.
Only Amber.

“All right. Give her one of these every
four hours for the pain.” Ulrica handed over a bottle of capsules. It was the
same painkiller Dax had used to try to kill Cole’s sister, he realized when he
glanced at the label. “And you might put her on one of those swing contraptions
that you have downstairs if she gets tired of lying here on her side or belly.
Don’t let her move around much for at least three or four days, or the brand
might break open and start to bleed.”

Downstairs? Was the woman crazy? Cole
wasn’t about to hang Amber out for everybody who walked into No Bounds to gawk
at. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of Amber,” he said, not ready to explore
the sudden sense of possessiveness his new slave evoked. “Has my sister shown
any sign of coming around?”

“No. As I told you, I don’t expect Mistress
Ciel to wake up until sometime tomorrow. She’s lucky to be alive, considering
the level of drugs we found in her bloodstream.” Ulrica pursed her lips
disapprovingly.

Apparently she thought Ciel had overdosed
herself. “You’ve got it wrong if you think Ciel would take that stuff on her
own. Petrone forced it down her, probably to get her out of the way while he
tortured Amber.”

Ulrica shook her head. “I hadn’t thought of
that possibility. In any case, I have my rounds to make at The Leather Gallery
and Pierced Princes. When you get No Bounds opened up, I imagine I’ll soon need
to find a partner.”

She inclined her head toward Amber. “I’ve
never understood it, not at all, folks like her who find sexual fulfillment by
being hurt. It’s human nature, though, to want to lord it over another human,
the way you masters want to do.” Shrugging, she shot Cole a self-deprecating
grin. “I know I shouldn’t complain. BDSM keeps us medics in business.”

Cole barely managed to rein in his temper.
“I don’t imagine you’ll be getting much if any business from No Bounds. I won’t
allow my employees or patrons to inflict injuries that might necessitate your
services.” Now, though, Cole was beginning to understand the look of fear and
revulsion he’d seen in the medic’s cool blue eyes when she’d first arrived in
answer to his call for help. She’d obviously gotten a warped impression of the
lifestyle he’d chosen, probably back on Earth, although from what he’d seen on
Obsidion, what went on at his competitors’ clubs had obviously reinforced her view.
“I appreciate your taking care of Amber and Ciel though.”

“It’s my job.” Ulrica picked up her bag and
headed out, but when she paused downstairs at the door, Cole saw tears
glistening in her eyes. “Once the flesh heals, your slave’s brand will be a thing
of beauty. Unlike mine. I will never again show myself unclothed.”

There had to be a story there, Cole thought
as he watched Ulrica make her way outside and down the street, past the
businesses between No Bounds and The Leather Gallery. There was something about
the healer, something that made him want to know her secrets and keep her from
harm, even though she made it clear by her attitude that she wanted no
protector. He couldn’t help thinking that Ulrica had once been hurt as Amber
had, and that in the healing process she had lost much of herself.

Cole wouldn’t let that happen to his
beautiful Amber. He did have a problem now, however, because there was no way
in hell he’d put her to work as a club sub the way she apparently expected him
to. No way in hell would he stand by and watch customers sample the woman who
belonged exclusively to him.

When he went back upstairs, he paused at
the closed door to Ciel’s room. Amber insisted that his sister had no claim on
her, that they were only friends who had sometimes participated in the same
BDSM scenes. But Cole wasn’t so sure. Not that he doubted Amber. He trusted her
implicitly.

Still, he had a feeling that his sister
might harbor some very proprietary feelings toward her friend.

* * * * *

Amber woke slowly, focusing first on a
mural opposite the bed. Excellent artwork, it depicted lovers—a Dom on his
knees, pleasuring his ecstatic slave. The drapes that covered her breasts and
belly were dark blue, like the midnight sky back home on Earth. Like the incredibly
soft bed linens beneath Amber’s seeking fingers. Everything about this room
bespoke luxury and privilege—a taste for beautiful surroundings.

No one had needed to tell her Cole had put
her in his bedroom. She glanced toward the open window and saw a wrought iron
balcony lit by the three brilliant moons for which the planet Obsidion was
famous.

Sounds of moving feet and low-pitched
voices drifted to her ears, comforting signs that she wasn’t alone, that life
and business went on around her as she lay and healed. She fantasized that Cole
would be with her but for the pressing needs of readying No Bounds for its
grand opening.

She hadn’t gotten more than a glimpse
downstairs as Cole had brought her here, but she imagined that the club must be
a beautiful place, much like the one he’d talked about long ago. She’d thought
at the time that his dream was only idle conversation in Earth’s new world
order, where such places were forbidden.

But he’d done it. He’d made his youthful
fantasy come true, here on a formerly barren planet light-years away from home.
Now she was here with him, longing for the day when Ulrica would pronounce her
healed—ready to serve Cole as her master.

Pain crept over Amber after she got up and
took a shower, small stabbing sensations around the brand that moved outward,
inward and all around. The sensations seeped through her veins, invading every
muscle, every cell of her body. She welcomed every twinge, each of them a
reminder that she’d survived this latest assault on her body.

She’d survived and won another round
against the demon within her that wanted to die, wanted her to kill it and
herself in retribution…

For what? For having lived when her parents
and sister had died? For having been a constant reminder to her grandparents
that they had lost the opportunity to reconcile with the daughter they’d
disowned? For the first time in her memory, Amber fought the pain deep in her
heart. She fought it with dreams not of death but of life…a life shared with a
master. Her master.

Cole Callender. A beautiful man, tall and
rugged, strong enough to protect her against all comers. For years she had
watched him grow from a gangly boy who’d teased her and Ciel with cicadas and
snakes to full, masterful manhood. Closing her eyes, she visualized his wavy,
dark-brown hair, his smiling blue-green eyes and sensual lips that smiled more
than they frowned.

Memories of his powerful muscles rippling
against her flesh when he’d carried her from the transporter, of the gentle
touch of his hands, of his deep voice full of concern, flooded her mind,
blotting out the physical discomfort that centered in the brand.

Amber didn’t know where she’d ever found
the courage to say she wanted him as her master, but she’d never take back the
words. While he might hurt her, which she surely would beg him to do while in
the throes of passion, the knowledge that he’d also protect her even from his
own desires warmed her.

The certainty that he would shield her from
harm alleviated the constant fear in her that someday she would beg a Dom to go
too far. That she’d entice him to finish the job that the plane crash that had
killed her family had left undone on her.

She crawled back into bed, settling onto
her side instead of her belly this time.
Ouch!
She winced at the sharp
pain no amount of sublimating could suppress. When Cole strode in and sat
beside her on the edge of the bed, she managed a tight-lipped smile for him.

“Time for your medicine.” Reaching into the
drawer of the night stand, Cole fished out the bottle of pills and handed her
one along with the glass of ice water he’d brought in. “Down the hatch.”

“Yes, Master.” Just having him there beside
her chased away the pain. “I’m glad to be here. I’m getting very anxious to get
well enough to take a tour and see what Obsidion looks like.”

Cole gestured toward the window, where
light from three moons illuminated the darkness. “That’s the most unnerving
sight you’re likely to see—Obsidion’s three multicolored moons. Otherwise, the
planet reminds me a lot of a desert back on Earth, except that the soil is
reddish-brown clay instead of white sand. Some people are experimenting with
irrigating and fertilizing large blocks of land so they can grow familiar
plants commercially. When you’re able to get up, I’ll show you the organic garden
I’ve started out in the courtyard.”

His wistful expression reminded her that
he’d had to come here because of rescuing Ciel and her over a year ago. “You
know, I haven’t told you how sorry I am about my part in the situation that got
you shipped off up here.”

“It’s nothing. At first I felt disoriented,
away from everything I’d known, but now I’m looking forward to making No Bounds
a success. I want to see Obsidion develop into a showplace pleasure planet that
will attract the best elements from Earth. Already we’re working on
establishing all the services—hospitals, utilities and so on—that will make it
easier to attract immigrants.”

He paused, lifted a stray lock of hair off
her brow and smoothed it back into place, his touch gentle and reassuring. “Having
you here with me is the icing on the cake.”

Amber couldn’t help smiling. No one, not
even Ciel, had ever made her feel as though she were the center of his world
the way Cole did. She could hardly wait to serve him the way a slave should
serve her master. “Thank you, Master.”

“No thanks needed. It’s I who should be
thanking you. It’s true. I want to know all about you. Where you lived, what
you did before you moved into our neighborhood.”

Like all Cole’s orders, this one was
couched as a request, but Amber knew he meant for her to talk, to re-live that
difficult time. “Before I came to live with my grandparents? My parents
traveled. Most of the time I went with them, but they decided I needed formal
education and left me at boarding school before they took my baby sister and
went on that last trip. Their plane crashed.”

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