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trousers.
    “ I want to fuck you,” he
told her deliberately. “Tell me you want me to do that.” His eyes
were black with passion.
    “ Tan--fuck me ...
master.”
    He reached into his trousers with an
unsteady hand and pulled out his turgid shaft, the tip already
oozing a drop of clear liquid.
    “ Again.”
    “ Fuck me,
master.”
    He had a moment to notice the redness
at the apex of her open thighs, a twinge of guilt ruthlessly
repressed, before he plunged into her. Even with such little
notice, she was wet and he slid inside her easily. He didn’t care
about her own needs or desires, all he wanted to do was stamp his
ownership on her so that even when she was finally serviced by
other men, she would remember him. But the sudden thought of her
with other men drove him even crazier. He gripped her hips
frantically, ignoring her cries as he kept pounding, not easing
until the waves of orgasm washed over him, making him shudder and
moan.
    When he was finished, he withdrew
quickly, turning his back on her as he refastened his
trousers.
    “ I’ll get some clothes for
you,” he said, turning his head but still not meeting her gaze.
“Then we’ll continue the lessons.”
    But lunch came and went before that
happened. Together with her meal was a small package that Asha
unwrapped to reveal two suits, both made of light material, two
tops and two pairs of pants.
    Clothes again, she thought with
delight. She thought she would never see clothing again, had
wondered whether Tangus would keep her naked and bent to his will
for ... well, for as long as he wanted.
    Quickly she slipped into the indigo outfit. The top was
short, semi-transparent and caught at her breasts, swaying with
their every movement. And the pants hugged her buttocks and thighs
before flaring out as it reached her feet. Perhaps it was a little
more revealing than what she usually wore--where did that thought come from?--but it was still better than
nothing.
    Feeling a bit more in command, she
walked to the chamber’s main door and pressed it, but it refused to
open. She searched for a control panel with no luck. Then tried the
same with the door adjoining Tangus’ quarters. No, she was locked
in.
    Which left her with time for little
other than thinking.
    She should have felt outraged by his
order to call him master and shocked by the way he so fiercely took
her, but something in her yearned to match him thrust for thrust.
She wanted to dig her fingernails into his biceps, claw his back
and bite his shoulder. Wanted to do such things now. Twice he had
taken what he wanted without giving her release, and she was shaken
by the strength of her unfilled desire.
    Maybe he was right forcing her to call
him master. The thought sent shudders through her. Never had she
expected to be dominated so completely by another person, much less
find herself meeting such domination with equal
intensity.
    Even if their situation was different,
if they had met at a party for example, she was sure her first
thought would have been how it felt to mate with him. There was a
primeval masculinity to his form, to the way he moved his body,
that mesmerized her.
    And, as if in answer to her fantasies,
he suddenly appeared at the door leading to his
quarters.
    “ I see you found your
clothes,” he commented.
    “ Yes,” an imp made her
finish, “master.”
    She noticed he started at the term and felt a stab of
satisfaction. So she could get under his
skin.
    He walked into the room, stretching
out a hand to her. Gracefully, she extended her arm, letting him
pull her to him.
    “ I’ve checked and
re-checked the systems,” he whispered into her hair, breathing
deeply of her scent. He nuzzled her neck, nipping gently at the
skin where it met her shoulders. “There’s nothing left to do for
the next several days but relax.”
    The tempestuous conqueror of this
morning was gone, replaced by the Tangus she was more familiar
with--stern but focused on their mutual pleasure.
    “ Can