Dungeon Royale (Masters and Mercenaries) Read online

  “Good god!”

  She tossed them in the trash, collected her purse and walked out, her head held high.

  Chapter Four

  Damon forced himself to walk away from the washroom door when all he really wanted to do was lock the door again and get his cock inside Penelope Cash’s ridiculously tight pussy.

  She’d been so fucking hot. She’d damn near singed his hands, and the way she looked when her body had tightened and she’d creamed all over his fingers had nearly unmanned him. He’d almost come in his slacks like an untried teenager.

  He hadn’t expected her to be so beautiful, so open. Her whole face changed when she came. She softened up the moment he touched her, her face losing the stoic look she normally wore. She looked younger, fucking gorgeous.

  He wanted to see her breasts. He hadn’t even gotten a peek yet. When he got her to The Garden, he was going to strip her down and inspect every inch of her.

  “Would you mind explaining exactly who you are and what you’re doing with my sister?”

  Ah, the troops were swarming. He turned and Diana Cash-Holden, aged twenty-nine, married to an accountant, mother of two girls, was bearing down on him. Diana was the middle child, well educated, but she had to have spent her school years in the shadow of her near genius-level sister. As far as he could tell from the profile he’d worked up on her, she wasn’t a bad woman, simply very busy.

  In a matter of seconds, he decided just how to deal with Diana.

  “I’m dating her. I’m taking care of her. She’s been lonely since your mum died.”

  Diana flushed slightly, obviously feeling guilty about not spending enough time with her sister. That was exactly the reaction he’d been looking for. “Yes. She’s been working quite a lot. She hasn’t mentioned you at all. I do ring her a bit.”

  “She’s private, and we work together so we had a few things to iron out before we went public.” Out of the corner of his eye, he caught George Cash striding up, obviously willing to pile on the new guy. He rapidly went through everything he knew about Penelope’s brother. He was the youngest, came out as gay during his teen years, but it seemed to have been smooth enough. He was a solicitor working for various human rights groups. It was obvious that he thought Damon might be in violation of a few.

  “Where is Penny?” George asked, his eyes narrowed.

  “I’m here,” she called out.

  Fuck. His cock stirred again because she looked soft and pretty with her hair tousled and her dress a bit wrinkled. Her blue eyes were still wide and innocent though. He was fairly certain nothing was going to change that. He could likely fuck her a thousand times and she would still look at him with those wide, innocent eyes.

  He had to protect her. She wasn’t a seasoned operative who knew what the game was. Of course if she had been, she’d likely have turned him down altogether because of his limitations.

  It struck him suddenly that Penelope Cash might be his ticket back to the field in more ways than one.

  George held out a hand. “Penny, come over here. Let me get you a drink and maybe we can sit down and talk.”

  That was not going to happen. He had plans for the afternoon and they didn’t involve sitting around with Penelope’s siblings. He was sure Penelope would defend them and go on about how much each had going on in their lives, but they’d left her to bear the weight of her mother’s care, and he wasn’t open to excuses. They’d had their chance to shelter and protect their sister from the big bad wolf, and now the big bad wolf was going to eat her alive and make her happy while he was doing it.

  He was going to get his mouth on her pussy and not leave for a very long time.

  It was just part of her training. That was all it was. The fact that his cock was truly engaged was a plus in his opinion, but at the heart of it, having sex with Penelope Cash was a necessity. It would bond her to him, make her trust him so if everything went to hell, she would obey him without question.

  It was time to start testing the fragile bond he’d begun to forge with his sub.

  “Darling, you’re feeling better?” He opened his arm, silently requesting she come to him.

  It left her with a choice—the brother she’d known for years or the man who’d held her, touched her.

  She practically fell over herself to get to Damon. “I’m much better now.”

  Wrapping an arm possessively around her shoulders, he looked back at her brother. He told himself the warmth he felt was all about a job well done. It had nothing to do with satisfaction that she’d chosen him. “Excellent. I was just telling your brother about how we met.”

  She flushed sweetly. “He was my boss. It’s why I didn’t talk about it. He took a transfer so now we can openly date. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about him. Damon. His name is Damon.”

  Damon held a hand out. “Damon Knight. It’s nice to meet you.”

  Penelope made introductions all around. He put on his most charming face and managed to finesse his way out of the family situation in less than twenty minutes. After the dance he’d promised Penelope, he took her hand and made his good-byes, wishing Beatrice and her new husband all the best of luck.

  The bitch would need it since he’d placed her on a Thai terrorist watch list, and she was scheduled to be picked up and questioned the minute her plane touched down.

  She would probably get out of it. Eventually.

  “I don’t understand why I have to leave my home.” Penelope’s fingers were threaded through his as they walked along Bishopsgate. The late afternoon sun was high in the sky, only the tiniest pinch of a chill in the air, but Penelope shivered.

  He eased out of his suit coat, placing it around her shoulders before clasping her hand again. The weekend crowds were hustling around them and he didn’t intend to lose her.

  She stopped, her hands on the coat. “Oh, I’m fine. I’m sure you’re cold as well. You don’t have to.”

  He stared, not minding that he was stopping foot traffic. “Leave the coat on, Penelope.”

  Her blue eyes were almost the same color as the sky and just as bright. “Is this one of those Dominant things?”

  It seemed like forever since he’d had to truly train a submissive. Most of the ones he’d played with in the last few years already understood everything about the lifestyle. “It’s one of those polite things. What kind of household did you grow up in that you think a man should allow his female to be cold so he can remain warm?”

  She pulled the coat around her, the material practically swallowing her frame. “My father was a college professor. I have to admit, he wasn’t big on manners per se. Not that he wasn’t polite, but he was often thinking of other things. Mum, god rest her soul, was a bit of a feminist.”

  “Keep the coat on,” he commanded, taking her hand again and beginning to walk toward Liverpool Street. “And this is precisely why you’re moving in with me. We can’t have these sorts of arguments on the boat. We’re supposed to be a D/s couple.”

  “So it is one of those Dominant things.” A cheeky grin curled her lips up.

  Oh, she was going to be enormous fun to spank. “We’re going into intensive training, and that means I want access to you twenty-four seven until we get on that boat. I want you to get comfortable with the team I have backing us up. They’re Americans, so they take some getting used to. I especially want you to spend time with Charlotte. She’s going in with her husband as another couple on holiday.”

  “She’s pretending to be a sub, too?”

  Charlotte didn’t have to pretend, which made her practically perfect to help educate Penelope. “She’s Ian Taggart’s wife and his submissive. She’s also a well-trained operative. I brought her in to help teach you about the lifestyle. She can answer all your questions from the submissive’s point of view.”

  She turned a little, her eyes lighting up in a way he believed they wouldn’t have before the incident in the washroom. She needed intimacy to open up. “When do I get my gun?”


  “I’ve rethought that part of the operation. If you prove to me that you can use one, perhaps.” He wasn’t sure he liked the idea of an armed Penelope. She would just as likely shoot herself as she would anyone else. As though to prove his point, she nearly tripped on a perfectly even piece of the pavement. He caught her easily and then picked up the brooch that had come unpinned.

  “Oh, sorry. I’m always losing things like that.” She pinned the brooch back on and steadied herself. She seemed to be having trouble with the tiny kitten heels she was wearing. Subs at The Garden were given the choice of stilettos or bare feet. He could guess which one Penelope would choose. But then he rather liked the fact that she only came up to his shoulders. It allowed him to tuck her easily against his body when he held her.

  She turned and her handbag nearly took the head off a corgi. “Sorry!”

  She might never get a gun. He pulled her away before she could kill a passerby with that purse of hers. “You evaded my question before. Why do you let those women humiliate you?”

  She frowned, and he almost wished he hadn’t asked the question. “I didn’t want to cause a scene. It’s always that way with the Henderson side of the family. I still go to events because we’re related, but I try to stay away from her. She’s a bully. I don’t let her get to me.”

  But it was obvious she did. He rather hated the sad look on her face. “And what on earth were you thinking to do with that tiny man?”

  A ripple of laughter went through her. “He’s six foot, Damon. He’s hardly tiny.”

  “He might weigh six stone soaking wet. I could break him with one hand.” He couldn’t help but laugh a bit thinking about what she’d said before. “Did that idiot really say you were too rough with him during sex?”

  She turned the sweetest shade of pink. “Damon, we’re in public.”

  He stopped at the corner. “Penelope, no one is listening. They’re off in their own worlds. We can safely talk about your very sad former fiancé. How did you meet him?”

  The light changed from red to yellow to green. She kept up as he crossed the street, staying firmly in what Londoners called the zebra walk. “I met him through a mutual friend. We went on a blind date and didn’t hate each other, so when he asked again, I said yes.”

  He was actually a bit surprised the idiot had managed to ask her. He would bet that Peter was almost as subby as Penelope. His e-mails to his fiancée showed a pitiful habit of begging to be forgiven for the most innocuous of flaws. His bride-to-be sent him text after text of things for him to do for her and vicious messages when he didn’t do them properly.

  He and Penelope would have been a nightmare together.

  She needed a firm hand and someone patient enough to retrain her to find worth in her own strengths and actions.

  She needed someone who would teach her just how good sex could be.

  “He wasn’t the right man for you.”

  “Obviously not.” She frowned a little. “I don’t pine for him. But I will admit, it hurt that he bought her a ring. He wouldn’t buy me a ring. He said it was too expensive. Not practical. He was a very practical fellow. I think that’s what hurt most today. Everyone knew he didn’t think I was good enough for a ring.”

  He stopped in the middle of the walk. She’d been honest. She likely would struggle to be anything else. His earlier intimacy had the intended effect. She had softened toward him and he needed to bring her even closer for his plans to work. He pulled her into his arms and hugged her against him, lending his warmth. “He’s an idiot, darling. And that cousin of yours will make him miserable. According to her texts, she’s cheating on him anyway.”

  Her head came up. “You have to stop that. You can’t invade people’s privacy like that.”

  “Of course I can.” He really didn’t see the problem. The means were there at hand, and the boys in tech were easily bribed with pizza.

  Turning into Liverpool Street station, he glanced back and noticed she’d already pulled her Oyster card.

  They walked toward the underground. Damon guided her to the Central Line escalators, placing her in front of him as the crowd rushed by on the left.

  It was a long ride, the escalator on a steep embankment. He ran an arm around her waist. “Do you miss him?”

  “No. I didn’t really love him. I think I just wanted to start,” she explained. She leaned back into him, naturally falling in to intimacy the moment he gave her the choice. How hard had it been for her to go without the physical affection she so obviously required? “I spent all my time studying when I was younger. My father pushed me to excel.”

  She’d passed her A and O levels brilliantly. He’d looked through her school records. When she’d gone to university and proven her skills in languages, SIS had recruited her. She’d likely been a lonely girl trying hard to please a distant father. At school she would have been in the shadow of her showier siblings when it came to making friends.

  It wasn’t a surprise she’d tried to search out a relationship.

  He wondered if she knew Nigel had considered her for field training. Likely not. By then her mother had been diagnosed and she was considered too risky for a high-level clearance. Somehow her brilliance had gotten lost in the shuffle of daily work and poorly timed family issues.

  “I suppose I just fell in with him really,” she explained. “It was easy. And then it wasn’t. Mum got sick and I had to take care of her.”

  So many would have let her go to a facility, but not Penny. She’d taken on everything herself and everyone had let her.

  “He left you?” If Peter had been a man, he would have married her immediately and moved in to help her out.

  “We drifted apart and one day he realized he wanted something more than I could give him.”

  She sounded wistful. She alone had proven to be the difficult one to profile. He’d found enough information on everyone in her life to write books on all of them, but she was a bit elusive. Apart from cheery e-mails she sent to friends and texts to her siblings that included an enormous amount of emoticons, she was fairly quiet. Her social networking profile seemed to be nothing but a way to like and comment on photos of her nieces. She talked on her mobile to her family and a few friends. As far as he could tell, she lived a rather blameless life.

  Was he doing the right thing by bringing her into the field? She was sweet and soft and his world could tear a person up. If she’d made it through proper SIS training, she’d likely be harder. He didn’t have the time to put her through it, didn’t even want to. He liked her soft.

  He took a long breath and caught her scent. God, she still smelled like sex, and he knew in a moment that it didn’t matter. He wanted her. He wanted something sweet in his bloody life and he’d have her. He would protect her. “Did you ditch the knickers? I’ll warn you, if I find out you haven’t, I intend to spank you, love.”

  He felt her shiver against him. “I took them off in the loo. I threw them away.”

  He could picture her rushing to the stalls to comply before anyone saw her. “That must have been quite difficult. Those stalls are very tight. I’m proud of you, Penelope. I think we’ll get on quite well together.”

  Her face tipped toward his. “Oh, I didn’t go into the stalls. My perfectly horrid aunt accused me of being a trollop, so I took them off in the salon and tossed them away right in front of her. It was all quite scandalous. Maybe she can put that in her yearly holiday card.”

  Her cheeks were stained with pink, but she held her head up.

  One orgasm and his sub was turning into a cheeky brat.

  She stepped off the escalator and moved toward the platform, the wind from a departing train blowing her hair back. “Oh, no. I dropped my card.”

  He turned to see if he could still catch it.

  And that was when he saw him.

  Basil Champion the third stood right in front of the escalator, his eyes trained on Damon. “You look good for a dead man.”

  Chapter Five
r />   Damon stood stock-still, almost unable to believe his eyes.

  Baz. The man who’d been his best mate for ten years, who’d helped him found The Garden, who had stood beside him and fought back their enemies.

  Now Baz was the enemy.

  Baz leaned against the large median that divided the escalators. It was a shiny metallic, roughly two feet wide. All around him people were getting on or off the escalators, a crowd protecting him. “Come on, Damon. Surely you have something to say to me. It’s been almost a year after all. And look at you all up and moving about. I knew you’d pull through. Oh, did your girl there drop this?”

  He held up the blue and white card Penelope had dropped.

  “Damon, I think we should call the police.” She started to move, pulling out her mobile. “You’re wanted for attempted murder, Mr. Champion.”

  Baz threw back his head and laughed. He was dressed in all black, a ball cap on his head. He would blend into the crowd, easily moving about the city. Damon doubted that the CCTVs would pick up his face. He was too well trained. SIS had made sure of that. “Good god, man. You’re shagging the help. How the mighty have fallen. Get rid of the girl. We need to talk.”

  Damon reached out, pulling Penelope behind him. This was one of those things he intended to avoid later. He would teach her to always stay behind him in a dangerous situation. “You don’t move a muscle. That’s an order.”

  “But Damon, I can’t get a signal,” she complained. “We need to find the authorities.”

  The authorities wouldn’t be able to handle Baz. They would only cause trouble and this was between him and his ex-mate. He needed to get Penelope somewhere safe. “And I need you to keep your mouth shut for a moment. This is none of your concern. Get on the next train toward Holborn. Change to Piccadilly and a friend of mine will be waiting for you at Gloucester Road. Do you understand my instructions?”

  Her hand clutched his arm. “Damon, I can’t leave you.”