Enslaved - Book 3: Trek Mi Q'an

by Jaid Black

  “Ah ty’ka,” he rasped out, “I have missed you.”

  He needed her. He didn’t want to admit it, but she knew that he did.

  And she needed him. She had come to realize this as a cold hard fact during the seemingly endless days when he’d been gone. Every day, every hour, every moment, had seemed an eternity with him away.

  But that didn’t mean she could stay here. She couldn’t and she wouldn’t.

  Marty wasn’t the type of woman to run away from her emotions. Nor was she the type to run away from good causes—her involvement in the women’s movement back on earth was proof positive of that fact.

  But she also knew when she was facing insurmountable odds. Kil might need her, he might even love her, but he would never admit to either emotion. And because of that fact, she would never be more to him than a sex slave.

  Ora’s servitude was over in less than a month’s time. When Ora left Morak and returned to her home planet, Marty would leave too and go with her. The two of them had made this decision after Marty had confided all of her feelings to her friend and Ora had insisted on helping her to escape Kil.

  Marty felt tears burning in the back of her eyes at the mere thought of leaving him. But she knew it was for the best. Something deep down inside of her told her it was the only way. She could never be a docile submissive. She would never be happy in her current status as the other harem members seemed to be. Even knowing as she did that Kil hadn’t had sex with any of them since he’d made love to her, it still wasn’t enough. She couldn’t bear the thought of being subjugated to anyone, least of all to the very man she was in love with.

  “I’ve missed you too,” she murmured. She reared up her buttocks to let him know she was awake and thoroughly enjoying his lovemaking.

  Kil’s hand moved underneath her. “Raise up on all fours, little one. I need to be as deep in your channel as possible.”

  Marty complied, coming up on her knees and elbows. He immediately sank fully into her, wringing a groan from both of them.

  “’Tis tight,” he gritted out as he began his rhythm and stroked quickly in and out of her, “and ‘tis mine.”

  He mated her hard, rode her body as though he’d never get enough of it, which he feared was true. Her breasts jiggled beneath her at the hard pummeling he gave her, and he couldn’t resist reaching down to tweak her nipples whilst he rode her into a place better than oblivion.

  Marty took all of him, wanting everything he could give to her. She couldn’t stifle the tremors of sadness that passed through her at knowing she was leaving him, so she decided to make the most of this time with him while she had it.

  “I love you, Kil,” she whispered.

  She bit down hard on her lip to keep from crying when he said nothing back.

  * * * * *

  For the next three days, Kil did not allow Mari to leave his sight. They made love hour after hour, time and time again, in every way imaginable.

  He had taken her into his bathing chamber and watched the Kefas bring her to climax, then made love to her himself. He had bade Ora to come to his bedchamber, then watched as she and Marty had kissed and fondled each other. Afterwards he had been so hard, he’d found it necessary to mount Marty four times before he’d felt replete.

  But mostly, Kil made love to her alone, with no Kefa or bound servant present to witness their matings. ‘Twas as he preferred it and that in and of itself was powerfully frightening.

  But the most frightening aspect of it all was the desire he felt to be with her at all times, regardless to whether or not he was mating with her. He wanted to…talk to her. He enjoyed listening to her stories of earth and found himself willing to tell her things he’d never confided to another.

  He wanted to…be with her. He found himself happy just having her nearness, just knowing she was there and was his.

  And she had told him that she loved him. As crazed as it sounded—a lasting union between a king and his harem’s favored—he was beginning to wonder if mayhap he too…

  Bah—he could not think on it. Yet he realized that he needed to think on it, and fast.

  He knew—knew—that the ice within him was melting where she was concerned, that a primal part of him was banging at his hearts screaming to get out.

  He needed to think.

  He needed to battle.

  And so on the fourth day when Kil heard tell of possible trouble brewing in the far sectors, he left Morak with all speed. He tried to harden his hearts at the pain he knew Mari was feeling when he left her, but he couldn’t.

  Mayhap because he felt it too.

  Chapter 13

  Over the course of the next few weeks, he had gone to her on one last occasion. For the rest of the time he had stayed away, seeking battles where they didn’t exist, attending wee Kara’s come-out, rescuing a brother who no longer needed him…

  But after he’d returned from Joo, Kil hadn’t been able to stave off the need to see Mari. And so he had gone to her and, just as she always did, she had held out her arms to him and offered his body and hearts surcease with the use of her lovemaking. He had come down on top of her with a groan, feeling like a wounded warrior who had at last found a healing elixir.

  Seated in the dining hall within the ice-jewel walls of the Ice Palace with the rest of his family, Kil drank of his matpow as he reminisced o’er the last eve he had spent with wee Mari.

  Their mating had been wild that moon-rising, he remembered. She had been as desperate to feel him inside of her as he had been to be there. For once it had been Mari who had been the aggressor, straddling his hips and riding him hard over and over again throughout the eve. She had taken him into her channel more times than he could count, loving his body with hers until the subverted yellow sun streaked through the crimson red night and declared it morn.

  She had told him that she loved him. Over and over again she had whispered the words until even he had believed them. He had opened his mouth to give the love words back, but had nigh unto panicked trying to get them out. Kil Q’an Tal had never said such words to another being. Not once in all of his hundreds of years of existence.

  As if she had understood, Mari had not pressed the issue, had instead continued to sink her channel down onto his shaft as she kept saying the love words to him over and over again, never expecting them to be returned.

  ‘Twas as if she had thought never to see him again and therefore needed to say what lay in her heart as much as was possible. But nay…

  Kil frowned into his goblet as his eyes flicked about the dining hall. His entire family was here, celebrating the addition of Giselle into the family, along with her and Rem’s tiny hatchlings. Everyone was happy, everyone was making merry, and yet here he sat brooding into his goblet.

  He had been removed from Mari for nigh unto a fortnight. And on that last wondrous eve when she had given her body and heart to him so completely, he had all but thrown the gifts back in her face, too stubborn and afraid to give her all of him in return.

  And truly, what was his fear? That his brothers would make jest that he’d been bewitched by his own bound servant?

  Nay. When all was said and done, Kil was a warrior who marched to no one’s tune but his own. They could laugh and make jest and at this point he was too far intoxicated with Mari to care.

  So what was the real reason? Why the panic and fear? Until he could answer that question…

  “I apologize brothers,” Kil said as he raised his goblet of matpow to his lips, “but I fear I must leave this moon-rising to see to my sectors.”

  Zor raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been seeing to your sectors a lot as of late. I hope there is naught amiss?”

  Ah, but there is plenty amiss. Your foolish brother cannot stand to be separated from his own bedeviling bound servant. “Nay,” Kil murmured, “naught is amiss.”

  Foolish. Was he foolish for being bedeviled, or foolish for not admitting that he was bedeviled to Mari? He hoped it was the former, but strongl
y suspected it was the latter.

  Kil’s entire body stilled as an odd premonition passed through him.

  Mari.

  He needed to get back to Mari. Something was…very wrong.

  * * * * *

  She was gone. She had run away.

  Bellowing like a madman, Kil’s fist came crashing down upon the closest tabletop, shattering the crystal structure into a million pieces.

  She had left him. She had dared to escape him whilst he’d been away.

  Barking at one of his warriors to prepare a high-speed conveyance for his departure, Kil’s heavy footfalls could be heard throughout the palace corridor as he made his way to the launching pad.

  If she thought she could escape him, he told himself grimly, then she had better think again. He would find her. He had a lock on her scent.

  The scar on his cheek twisted in rage as he alighted into his high-speed conveyance. In the midst of his fury it never dawned on the King of Morak that there was a reason he was able to get a lock on her scent to begin with. All he knew was that he had to have her back. And he had to have her anon.

  King Kil Q’an Tal, the most feared and ruthless warlord that the time dimensions had ever known, launched from the conveyance pad preparing to do what it was he did best. He was preparing to hunt. The only difference, he thought as his jaw clenched unforgivingly, was that this time what he hunted was a wench.

  * * * * *

  She accepted the bag of credits from the tradesman who had offered her a high price for one of her qi’kas. Glancing over her shoulder to make certain she wasn’t being followed, she fled into the busy village and made her way towards the tiny crystal shack she was hiding out in.

  She stopped for a moment as a strange flutter quivered through her belly. That was the second time in as many weeks. Reminding herself that she had no time to ponder the foreign sensation, she walked briskly into the village centre, her scent mingling as one with the other passersby.

  Chapter 14

  The Vakki Sector of Planet Zolak

  Trek Mi Q’an Galaxy, Seventh Dimension

  “Thank the goddess,” Ora breathed out when Marty opened up the crystal door and made her way into the tiny shack they were sharing, “I was beginning to fear the worst.”

  Marty’s lips puckered into a frown. “No offense to your hometown, Ora, but this sector is the worst.” She shook her head and sighed. “The entire planet is a hole. Who did you say is the ruler here?”

  She smiled wryly. “King Jun, the mast—uh, the King of Morak’s two-year-old nephew.”

  “That explains a lot,” Marty mumbled. “The kid is too young to know he’s inherited the planetary version of a practical joke.”

  Ora sighed as she walked over to a window and stared outside. “I fear I agree. ‘Tis not as I remember it when first I was captured in battle five Yessat years past.”

  Marty crossed her arms under her breasts and listened intently. “It was Kil who captured you?”

  Ora nodded, but didn’t turn away from the window. “Aye. Insurrectionists plagued us for months before he came and put down the rebellion. I could have told him the truth, that I was a Zolakian and not a rebel sympathizer, yet my parents had been killed, our crops had been thieved, and I had nowhere else to go.” She sighed. “So I said nothing. I was alone and I was starving, but I had my beauty.”

  Marty nodded. On a scale of one to ten, Ora’s beauty rated somewhere around twenty. “So you let him take you away to Morak and put you in his harem.”

  “Aye.” Ora turned around at last and smiled, if a bit sadly. “I don’t regret the decision, Mari. Not even in retrospect.”

  Marty smiled gently. “I don’t blame you. It’s all any of us can do, Ora, just make the best decision we can based upon the knowledge we have at the time.”

  “The same as you do now,” Ora murmured. She shook her head and turned back toward the window. “I apologize. ‘Twas not necessary to remind you of the mast—of him.”

  Marty chuckled as she strolled over to where Ora stood gazing out into the black night. “As if I won’t think about him if you don’t mention him.” She took Ora’s hand in hers. “I’m just lucky I had your friendship, as well as your help to escape.”

  Ora squeezed her hand. “And then I brought you here to this joke known as planet Zolak.” She sighed. “We really must continue on, Mari. ‘Tis nothing here for either of us,” she said sadly.

  Marty felt as though there would be nothing for her anywhere, but she didn’t say as much. She missed Kil—oh god how she missed him—but she could not and would not go back to being his sex slave. She had aimed for all or nothing and had gotten nothing. It had been the right time to leave.

  “How true,” Marty said quietly. She fingered the see through genie-like top she was wearing. “They can’t even spin a decent qi’ka here.”

  Ora snorted at that. “Nay, they cannot.” She thought things over for a moment then said, “We’ve plenty of credits between us. We can move on to wherever the spirit takes us.”

  Marty smiled, thinking back on the summer she’d backpacked through Europe. Ora would have made a decent hippie. “Have you heard of any planets in any of the galaxies where the women are not subjugated to the men?”

  “Besides the Wani of Tron?”

  Marty inclined her head. She knew she could never go back there. It would put her friends in danger of another war if Kil decided to try and find her and place her back within the harem. “Yes, besides the Wani.”

  “I can think of only one.”

  “Oh? And what’s the planet’s name?”

  “Galis,” she sighed.

  Marty’s brow furrowed. “You say that as if you don’t want to go there.”

  “Nay, it isn’t that.”

  “Then what’s wrong?” Marty said quietly. “Why are you so upset? And don’t bother denying it because I know you too well to believe it.”

  Ora smiled as she stared out the window. “Aye, you do. For which I am grateful. It means we are great friends.”

  “Then why the melancholia?”

  Ora shook her head, but said nothing. She merely continued to stare out the window.

  Marty turned her head and glanced out the window Ora was staring out of. She sighed when she realized why her dear friend was so upset. How could she have been so thoughtless? “This must be hard on you,” she murmured. “To return to your homeland only to realize that there is nothing here for you anymore.”

  Ora swiped away a rogue tear. “For five Yessat years I carried this fantasy in my hearts that when I returned all would be as it had been before the insurrectionists burned my sector to the ground.” She shook her head. “But time has stood still, Mari. This once beautiful land is as horrid as the day my family’s holdings were first besieged.”

  “I’m sorry,” Marty said softly.

  By the time Ora turned to her, her tears were flowing freely. Her eyes searched Marty’s face. “I need you to hold me tonight, Mari,” she whispered.

  Marty smiled gently. Ora was so beautiful, she thought. So kind, generous, and beautiful. And she wasn’t the only one who needed to be loved tonight.

  As if on instinct, their lips found each other. Marty ran her hands over Ora’s breasts while they kissed, slowly massaging her nipples as their tongues leisurely stroked each other. They kissed for a long time, sensuous, drugging kisses that heightened into heady desire. And odd as it was, it felt right. Marty experienced none of the guilt those back on earth would have thought she should have experienced.

  Some time later, Marty raised her head. “You taste like honey,” she murmured.

  Ora grinned. “There are other parts of me that taste better.”

  Marty felt a bit wicked as she watched Ora shed her qi’ka, realizing as she did that she found her body arousing. But then, she had come to enjoy being wicked since leaving earth.

  When both of them were naked, she followed Ora to the small bed they shared and kissed her body from
head to toe. She had been right. There were parts of her that tasted better than honey.

  * * * * *

  “Mighty One.”

  High Lord Jek Q’an Ri cleared his throat when ‘twas apparent the king had not heard him. “Mighty One,” he said a bit louder.

  Kil grunted to acknowledge he had heard his paternal cousin, but did not turn from his standing position to look upon him.

  “We have hunted for two days, cousin, yet she has eluded us. You’ve hundreds more wenches within your harem. Can we not return to Morak that we might resume instruction in the warring arts?” His eyebrows rose fractionally. “’Tis why my sire sent me to you in the first, to learn from the best.”

  “I know she was here,” he muttered, ignoring Jek’s subtle reprimand. He was of no mind to be reminded of his duties. His entire life had been naught but a duty. Should he desire to take a break from it that he might locate Mari, ‘twas his business and no other’s. “I can smell her perfume.” He looked around the abandoned crystal shack for any telltale signs of where she might have gone, but could find no answers.

  Jek squinted at that. “I do not recall her wearing a perfume.”

  “Do you not?” Kil glanced toward his cousin before crouching down to his knees to inspect the area under the bed. “Then mayhap you need instruction in the senses rather than in the warring arts for there is no scent in the galaxies more fine than Mari’s.”

  Jek was about to let that go when he recalled an incident he’d overheard in the Palace of Mirrors a time ago. “Nay, Mighty One, ‘tis for a certainty Mari wears no perfume.” He shrugged absently. “I remember hearing her decline Ora’s offering of a Zolakian perfume, claiming she broke out in red spots from the stuff.”

  “Then how is it possible that I can smell her—”

  Kil’s entire body stilled. His hearts rate plummeted, then shot up and worked triple time. By the sands—oh Mari. He sat there crouched on his knees for what felt an eternity before his rounded eyes shot wildly toward his cousin. “—scent,” he finished softly.