Page 21 of Ruled By Magic

He crooked a finger at me. “Come.”

Even his commanding presence couldn’t prevent the gossipy whispers as I squeezed through the rows of chairs and approached him, tugging my skirt down. Without another word, he took my arm and led me from the room.

As soon as we cleared the door, the Lord Commander took my arm. We vanished and reappeared, not in the apartment as I expected, but in a large office. Arched, ceiling-high windows let in the midmorning sun, overlooking the palace gardens and the forest. We must be on the fifth floor, at least. The grounds stretched, a patchwork of every shade of green. Neat landscaping merged into the rich colors of the true forest. The thick, dangerous woods coated Dexia and grew at an incredible rate. A trickle of fear ran up my spine to see it so close.

A dark wooden desk dominated the back wall, curved at one side and covered in precise stacks of papers. Bookshelves lined the walls, and my shoes sank into soft carpet, a luxurious red weave. Red. Of course. I already grew tired of the color.

“Is this your office?”

“Yes. What do you think?”

Again, a disappointing lack of personal touches. No photos or knickknacks, and the matching abstract art pieces looked as though a designer had placed them. Pleasant, but told me nothing about him.

“It’s—” I struggled. “Nice? I suppose. It looks like an office. But what are we doing here? What about the barrier?”

Instead of answering, he strolled around his desk and took a seat in the leather chair behind it. He leaned back, rested his arm on the armrest, and studied me. I waved at the chair on my side of the expansive structure. “Shall I—”

“No. Come here.” He swiveled and indicated a spot just beyond his feet.

I frowned but complied. The position was such a classic power play. A boss, about to scold a lazy employee. It couldn’t mean anything good. My fingers twisted together of their own accord, and I fought not to fidget. I took a breath. “Lord Commander, what—”

“Did you enjoy yourself this morning?” Dark amusement threaded the words. Definitely nothing good. I racked my brain. Had I offended someone? All I’d done was eat a few bites of food before the alarm forced me into the bunker.

“Do you mean breakfast with Helen?”

He shook his head. His lips curled up, but his smile set me on edge. Like he knew something I didn’t.

“No. That’s not what I mean. I’m talking about what you did in my apartment, right after I left.”

Cold horror prickled through my body. Surely not...? No. Please no.

“Sorry, I don’t know what you’re referring to.” I kept my voice prim and proper. His smile grew more feral.

“I’m referring to the fact that the minute I left you alone, you pleasured yourself. I keep wondering where you might have done it. Did you spread your legs and touch yourself in the living room, on my sofa? Take yourself off to bed and hide under the covers?” He leaned forward. “Did you imagine it was my hand instead of your own?”

A blazing rush of humiliation scorched me from the inside out. No one spoke about this. It was secret, a hidden act. The most private of all private things. How could he talk about it with such abandon? And how in the unholy fuck did he know? I looked at the floor, face glowing like the sun.

“How?” A strangled whisper. All I could manage.

“Look at me.” A command, and I forced my gaze up. His amusement had softened, but his eyes were dark. “Your mark. I designed the magic to track you, and to alert me if you were in pain. A safety feature. But it came with an unexpected benefit, which I discovered during our tryst at the show last night. When you climax, it produces the same effect. So, as long as you have your mark, I’ll always know.”

It took a moment for the full impact of the words to sink in. He’d always know. Another piece of privacy, gone. Would he leave me nothing? I fisted my hands.

“Can you imagine what it did to me?” He pinned me with his gaze. “I’d just reached my meeting. We were preparing to negotiate a complex trade agreement, and that alert went off. It filled my mind with images of you, desperate for pleasure. You’re wanton, aren’t you? I took care of you last night, but you couldn’t even wait for this evening. How many times a day do you need to climax? It’s no wonder you responded so beautifully to my touch.”

Shame surged through me, so bright it obliterated all else. I felt torn open, all my dirty thoughts exposed. The impact of his words was made worse by the clear delight he took in saying them. All part of my punishment—to humiliate me in every way possible. “Stop.” The word slipped out unbidden. “Please.”

He stayed silent for a long moment. “Very well. But you need to do some work, now. On your knees.”

An echo of his command in the courtroom. I shivered and examined the floor. “Why?”

He sighed. “Don’t play coy. I’ll spell it out, if you wish. You’re going to get on your knees and take my cock in your mouth. Then I might be able to concentrate for the rest of the day.”

I swallowed. A part of me knew he’d demand this, but not right away. Not before he’d even seen me naked. I’d attempted it before, with limited success. Something about the act felt uncomfortable. Degrading. Not enjoyable. How skilled was the Lord Commander expecting me to be? And why in the fuck was that my first consideration? I bit my lip.

“I’m not—” I tried again. “I haven’t—”

“You’re not experienced?” Curiosity, with an undertone of something else. Desire?

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