Wicked Beloved

by Susanne Saville

  “Toaster,” she chirped.

  “What?”

  “Hmmm?” She’d said something…maybe…but she couldn’t remember. That must be some painkiller. She felt lovely, basking in his approval. His body and his words were like being wrapped in a protective cocoon of acceptance or fondness or suchlike.

  He repeated his murmurs of praise. At some point the words stopped, but she didn’t really notice. Peace had seeped into her, soft and warm. She floated, just a cloud in the lengthening silence.

  When he eventually spoke, she was snuggled so close against him she felt his voice rumble. “Don’t let me do that again.”

  “Hmmm?”

  “Don’t let me hurt you again.” His tone was dark and edged with self-recrimination.

  She groped for her thoughts. Her master was punishing himself and there was no need. She knew how this planet worked. He couldn’t help the rules of his civilization, or the way his body was wired, any more than she could change her own innate preferences.

  She couldn’t figure out how to say any of that, though. So she mumbled, “I don’t mind your initials on me,” against the hot skin of his throat.

  “Don’t forgive me so easily.” He swallowed and his skin moved against her mouth. For no reason, her tongue darted out and licked him, catching the faint taste of salt from his sweat. He tasted surprisingly nice.

  “Why not?” She nuzzled his neck, lightly kissing him and inhaling his scent. “You’re my master.”

  “Precisely. I’m your master. That means I take care of you. I don’t let any harm befall you.” He spoke quietly but his voice was thick with condemnation he directed only at himself. “Don’t let me break our pact again. You obey me and I keep you safe.”

  Tentatively she skimmed her hand up to cup the opposite side of his neck. “I’m so going to Stockholm over you, aren’t I?”

  “Pardon?”

  “Never mind.” She closed her eyes, and was only barely awake when he carefully deposited her on the floor.

  Through half-closed lids, she watched him take apart the couch to build her fort of pillows. She wanted to tell him she wasn’t afraid of him anymore, that she’d share his bed instead, but whatever medicine he’d used had sapped her strength. Which was probably just as well. It was probably the drugs making her feel this way anyway.

  When he helped her relocate behind her defensive cushions, he kissed the top of her head. She wished she could grab him and keep him with her, but her leaden arms seemed disconnected from her brain. So, with a whimper he was already too far away to hear, she instead settled into sleep.

  * * *

  I’eke arrived with the sun. Dzer-Jin had forgotten he’d invited her. His message to her hadn’t been that long ago, but everything that had happened since he’d bought his pet seemed like another lifetime.

  He let I’eke in and watched her frown at his missing couch cushions before excusing himself to finish washing up. His pet was still nesting in the closet and he didn’t feel like explaining that. With any luck, they’d be gone before she woke up.

  As he exited he washroom, I’eke’s normally refined voice shrieked, “How’d you get in here?”

  CHAPTER NINE

  “What do you mean?” said his pet. “I live here. How’d you get in here?”

  Interesting how she wasn’t afraid. More…irritated. He waited, curious to hear how the confrontation would progress.

  “Dzer-Jin let me in. And he does not live with anyone.”

  “Yes, he does.”

  “No, he does not. He doesn’t even allow overnight guests…Oh, you have a collar.” I’eke laughed with relief. “You’re a slave. Naughty boy should have told me he bought a slave.”

  “Told you? Who made you queen?”

  “What?”

  “Never mind. Where is he?”

  “Your master’s in the washroom. Fetch me a drink while I wait.”

  “No. We’re both staying right here.”

  There was a stunned pause before I’eke said, “You’re giving me orders?”

  “He never mentioned you. You could be a thief for all I know. You either leave now, empty-handed, or we’ll wait right here ’til he comes back.”

  “I’m his hetaira, you little whore.” I’eke’s voice was brittle with anger. “You’ll obey my orders if you know what’s good for you.”

  “Nope. I obey him. I don’t have to listen to anyone else.”

  “Fetch me a drink!”

  “Bite me. You’re not my master.”

  I’eke’s affronted huffs punctuated the silence before she screeched, “Where’s your whip? Get your whip, slave! I’ll hit you with my hand if I have to.”

  His pet let loose an indignant laugh. “Oh, hell no you don’t. You hit me and I will bitch-slap your skeletal ass back to your planet’s industrial age.”

  A scandalized gasp issued from I’eke. “You can’t talk to me that way.”

  “Just did.”

  Dzer-Jin stifled a chuckle. No wonder she had ended up at the shelter. Unbroken and no common sense. It was probably time to intervene. He strode into the main room. “What’s going on here?”

  “Your slave has not only refused to serve me, she talked back in the most insubordinate way.”

  “What did you wish her to do?”

  “I only asked for a drink.”

  “Bring I’eke a glass of berry wine, Slave.”

  At the first sound of his voice she had dropped to her knees, head bowed. “As you command, Master.” She rose, avoiding eye contact, and hurried to the kitchen.

  “She wasn’t like that for me.”

  “Well, she’s my personal pet. Not a servant.”

  “That doesn’t change the fact that she spoke back. I want her whipped.”

  He shook his head. “In all fairness, she didn’t know you so detaining you was a reasonable decision. “

  “You were listening?” I’eke’s eyes narrowed in accusation.

  A burning heat rose in his cheeks. He folded his arms across his chest. “I wanted to hear her interact outside of my presence. I’ll tell her to be more polite in future.”

  She returned with the drink as I’eke said, “You’ll flay the hide off her, is what you’ll do. You’re allowed to kill a slave for insubordination.”

  He was getting cross, both with I’eke for not letting it drop and with himself for having started this by caring to hear what his pet might say outside his presence. “That’s for insubordination against a master. I’m her master. She didn’t talk back to me. Drink up and let’s be off.”

  “But she talked back to me. Aren’t I important to you? You would be offended on my behalf, if we were a mating-pair.”

  Now that was annoying. “Don’t make our relationship about breeding. It was never about progeny, merely entertainment. You knew that.”

  “All right.” I’eke’s voice could have cut ice. “You whip her, right now, or I’m telling my father to take his contracts elsewhere.”

  Cold anger spiked at her words and he very carefully controlled it. “That’s between your father and the Guild. It’s of no consequence to me.”

  “It will be when you feel the pinch of lost coin.” Her eyes glittered maliciously.

  He hadn’t meant their relationship to end like this. She was an enjoyable bed partner and their time together was always pleasantly exhausting. But he didn’t respond well to threats, and she should know better. “Attempting to manipulate me into whipping my pet is not very attractive, I’eke. You should leave.”

  “If I leave, I’m never coming back.”

  “That’s acceptable.”

  Her perfectly-painted mouth dropped open. “I can’t believe it. You’re acting like you don’t want to whip the little beast.”

  “Good bye, I’eke.”

  With a string of curses, I’eke strode to the entrance, punched the control panel and stormed out. Then the door whisked shut and he and his pet were left in silence. Placing the beaker of wine o
n the table with a soft clink, his pet shuffled over to stand before him.

  “I didn’t mean to get you in trouble, Master.” She licked her lips nervously. “I’m sorry.” She took a deep, shaky breath and knelt in front of him before continuing, “Please correct me.”

  He remembered that phrase from the Tellurian club and his mouth went dry. “What?”

  “I got you in trouble. I never would have…I deserve to be punished.” She bowed her head. “You can hit me or something. It’s okay.”

  He leaned forward and she flinched. Moving slowly, he cupped his hand under her chin and raised her head. She would not meet his gaze. Her eyes were shut tight and her lashes were wet. She trembled, eyebrows knitted, wincing at his every sound or motion, anticipating a blow.

  He rubbed the pad of his thumb across her sealed lips. She quivered at the first contact but very slowly relaxed into his touch. He increased the pressure until she parted her lips. Then, shifting his grip, he crouched down and captured her mouth with his.

  At first she started, her hands flying to his chest, but she didn’t push him away. He kept kissing her, chaste, soft kisses, while running his thumb along her jaw, along her cheek, encouraging her to open more to him. She surrendered with a tiny willing sigh.

  His hands moved to cover hers, still pressed against his chest, while his tongue flicked inside her mouth. Caressing her with incessant little strokes that hinted at connection rather than satisfied, he provoked her response, waiting until her tongue brushed his with increasing enthusiasm before he pulled back. She leaned forward, her mouth chasing his kiss. This time when he caught her chin, she looked up into his eyes.

  “I promised you I would not hurt you. So hitting you would never be okay. Have you got that?”

  Her eyes were shiny with unshed tears, but she smiled. “Yes, Master.”

  “Now please put my couch back together.”

  * * *

  By mid-morning, Lagi showed up at the door. Dzer-Jin sent his pet down to the corner shop for snacks, more as an excuse to get her out of the way than for any need of comestibles. He knew Lagi had come for the gossip on his break with I’eke, and would probably have his own bloody advice on how to deal with his pet’s misconduct. Those descriptions she didn’t need to hear.

  Slouched on the couch, Lagi swigged from the flagon of frothy sloe Dzer-Jin handed him. “I’eke told me how your slave acted toward her. How do you do that? Break ’em yet keep ’em so fiery? This gets out, everyone’s gonna to want you to train all their females. Is she wild in bed?”

  Dzer-Jin paced behind the couch where Lagi couldn’t see him. “I wouldn’t know.”

  “What do you use? Cane? Razor?”

  “Nothing like that.”

  “Wait, go back, what do you mean you don’t know?” Lagi swiveled on the cushion to face him, eyes widened in surprise. “You haven’t bedded her yet?”

  He shrugged, hoping he appeared more detached than he felt. “She was injured.”

  His friend frowned. “Surface stuff. Certainly nothing to get in the way of a good rutting.”

  “Leave it alone, Lagi.”

  “What’s her purpose if you’re not fucking her?”

  “Leave it.”

  Lagi ignored the warning growl in his tone. “I’m just saying. You feed her and clothe her and give her shelter. You should get something in return.”

  “Don’t worry about me—”

  “But you should get something—”

  “I do,” Dzer-Jin snapped before realizing that was not the way to end this conversation.

  “What? What do you get?” Disbelief dripped from Lagi’s tone and he raised an eyebrow.

  Dzer-Jin strode around to the front of the couch and flopped onto the cushions beside Lagi. He tried to contain his irritation, as it would be more appropriately directed at himself than at his friend. What did he get, indeed? He liked having her around. But companionship wasn’t a valid answer. You could pick up a companion anywhere, you didn’t have to buy one, let alone bring her home. Although her thoughts were unique. That was something.

  “Tellurians provide fascinating conversation,” he offered.

  “They can provide a lot more than that,” Lagi scoffed. “And she should be.”

  “I don’t wish to rush her. Her former master didn’t handle her right. I want her to come to me when she’s ready.”

  “You want more than her compliance,” said Lagi slowly, narrowing his eyes. “You want an attachment.”

  Dzer-Jin glanced away, debating how to answer Lagi and at the same time realizing his failure to immediately deny the allegation was tantamount to an admission of guilt. “Yes,” he murmured, then turned to his friend with a fierce snarl. “And if you tell anyone, I swear I’ll kill you. Very slowly.”

  Lagi laughed. “Hey, don’t worry about me. You want an attachment, that’s fine. I approve of all kinky stuff.”

  * * *

  When she returned from the shop, proud of how well she’d managed on her own, her master helped her put away the things she’d purchased until Lagi called out he wanted a refill. Her master retrieved his flagon, filled it with what she had come to refer to as beer, since visually the liquid looked similar, and gave the flagon to her to return. Much as she had no interest in serving Lagi, she obeyed.

  Lagi lounged on the couch. He saw her approaching but didn’t sit up and reach for his drink, making her walk all the way up to his legs and lean over before he took the flagon. As she turned to leave, his other hand snaked out to grasp her wrist, squeezing to the point of pain.

  “Lemme go,” she whispered. This was one of her master’s friends and she didn’t want to cause a scene. But she didn’t want him touching her either. He wore that same cruel, reptilian gleam in his eyes that her first master had possessed. That most people on this planet possessed. It made her skin crawl.

  She tried to jerk her wrist away but he refused to release her. Her movements only caused the beer in his other hand to slosh over the cup’s rim. So, not wishing to make a mess, she held still and let Lagi stare at her, his eyes roaming both her face and her body. She fidgeted, increasingly uncomfortable under his scrutiny.

  “What?” she finally asked, exasperated.

  “I’m trying to see what Vonn sees in you.”

  “What d’you mean?”

  “You bring him no pleasure. He doesn’t beat you and he doesn’t fuck you. What are you good for?”

  Her mouth dropped open and she stared back. She hadn’t expected that accusation and she didn’t have an immediate answer.

  “You really should work for your keep,” he continued. “You’re cheating Vonn out of his money’s worth.”

  “I—I—I do so bring him pleasure…” She had. Once. At that horrible club. Although that hadn’t been consummated. Maybe that didn’t count.

  As if he could read her thoughts, Lagi asked, “Has he fucked you?” When she didn’t answer, his grip on her wrist twisted cruelly. “Has he?”

  “No,” she whispered.

  “Then what pleasure do you give him?”

  The heat of shame mottled her cheeks. It was true. He took care of her and she gave him nothing. She wasn’t even that great a slave. She should do something to earn her keep. He deserved that. No one else on this horrible planet would be as nice to her.

  Had he been complaining about her to Lagi? Was he thinking of getting rid of her? Panic clawed up her throat.

  She liked it here. Until she could figure out how to get off the planet, this was the safest place she could be. Her heart flailed against her ribs at the possibility of her master’s rejection. She should do something immediately to ensure he’d keep her.

  Not that she’d admit as much to Lagi, the bastard who’d sent them to that sadistic club, the bastard who was smirking right now, savoring her distress. She focused on that little rising flame of hatred and anger toward Lagi, in the hope that doing so would tamp down her fear.

  “And here I was wondering
what he saw in you,” she snapped.

  “He didn’t buy me.”

  “No, he doesn’t shop for things that cheap.”

  “Why you little…” Lagi laughed. “I’eke was right. Your tongue does need slitting.”

  * * *

  That night Dzer-Jin awoke at the sound of bare feet padding into his bedroom. His fist closed around the hilt of the dagger beneath his pillow before he recognized the hesitant, shuffling gait as his pet. Releasing the knife, he rolled over on his back.

  She was a silhouette on a background of only slightly lighter black. He touched the lamp beside his bed, illuminating his pet in a blue nightshirt that ended just above her knees. Its fabric clung to the curves of her breasts and rippled delightfully about her hips when she moved.

  Though the light was dim, she squinted at the sudden change. “Sorry. Did I wake you?”

  “Yes. But it’s not irreparable. What do you need?”

  “Huh?”

  “I assume you entered this room with a purpose.” To his knowledge, she had never entered his bedroom since that first night. He had told her she needn’t and she hadn’t.

  “Yeah. Ummm… it’s a stupid question. But I’m here now. I…” She came closer and gingerly lowered herself to the edge of the foot of his bed. “I’ve been afraid to ask… What do you want me to be?”

  The question was clearly important to her, but he wasn’t quite sure why. “I’m satisfied with whom you are.”

  “No, I mean, what am I supposed to be to you? You don’t treat me like…” She sighed. “Am I your cleaning lady? Or your sex slave? Or what? I don’t know what I’m supposed to be.” She gave him a little, helpless shrug.

  “I suppose I think of you as a pet.” He kept his voice carefully neutral. After that club experience, she must be aware of his darker desires for her. He was uncertain for what sort of assurance she searched.

  She nodded. “Pet. Okay. I can do that. Is—Is that all you want?”

  He watched her, the way she perched on the very edge of the mattress, the way her knee shook up and down. “What else would you be willing to give?”

  She stared at the floor. “If… Would you like…?” She stopped and seemed incapable of voicing more.