“You need not hide from me.”
She coughed. “I’m…I’m not…” She was totally on display here. How could he think she was hiding?
“You’re going somewhere else in your mind. Don’t.”
Her inhale was a series of shaky hitches. “Right. Sorry. I’m just…”
“Perfect,” he said. “Like I knew you would be.”
She felt the slight scratch of stubble from his cheek against her inner thigh, then his lips, soothing and caressing. He grazed his teeth lightly across her skin and she moaned softly as the sensation shattered her.
“I think you’ll like this.” His fingers brushed up and down the inside of her thigh, gradually getting closer and closer to his target.
She giggled nervously. “Oh, yeah, I believe it, but… I mean… Will you?”
“Enjoy it? Immensely.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes.” His fingers gently petted her hair. “Allow me, Ahno’ee.” He swallowed. “Please.” He spoke the word with the mild awkwardness of long disuse.
She’d never had any man beg to…and this commanding man clearly didn’t beg for anything, ever. It was surreal. She thought the point of the slave thing was its one-sided nature; her giving him pleasure. She hadn’t expected him to be so reciprocal.
“Okay.” She swallowed as a new rush of wetness came in response to his fingertips repeatedly ghosting over her entrance.
“I’ve never tasted Tellurian before.” He kissed the hollow where her inner thigh met her body. “Your scent is extremely enticing.”
He was preparing to open her heated body to the shock of cool air. She could no longer tell if she was nervous or excited but her every nerve ached for him. She struggled to remain still as his lips and tongue explored her. It was impossible.
“What’s your verdict?” she asked, unable to control the tremor in her voice.
“You are delicious. Definitely my favorite food group.”
She laughed, certain her short-circuited brain was misinterpreting the collar translator.
Enthusiastic yet controlled, patient, his licking and sucking slowly took her apart. And the beautiful little noises he made. Happy. Appreciative. He could make her come from those sounds alone.
She grabbed fistfuls of the sheet. So close. The outside world, reality, everything outside her flesh started to slip away—unimportant compared to the need that blossomed inside her, embarrassment and all conscious thought banished.
She writhed beneath his mouth, thrusting against him, and he was right there with her, pressing and licking and giving the energy back. He triggered a rhythm inside her that built on itself until there was too much to contain. Something tremendous and huge and painful and wonderful was going to happen and she repeated breathless entreaties of please-don’t-stop-don’t-stop-don’t-stop-don’t-stop.
Suddenly she was floating while a tingling flood filled her. It started in her belly and crackled, swarming outward, racing for the edges. An ominous pleasure, like her entire body was just about to sneeze.
Her lungs seized. She couldn’t breathe. Muscles locked, vibrating, contracting, everything stopped yet ran wild at the same time. He was still licking her, and it was too too much, painful almost; he was killing her, and yet it was glorious. He didn't let her rest, urging her from one peak to the next, until high-pitched gasps fell from her parted lips, gasps that probably would have been screams if she'd had breath enough to put behind them.
Her orgasm lasted forever, and he wrung every last spasm and aftershock out of her humming flesh. She wasn’t even sure when it ended. She vaguely became aware of his lips softly kissing the inside of her leg, slowly…again…and again, while a flood of wet heat radiated from her heart, like she’d burst something, spreading out to her limbs and across her spent body. She tried to reconnect her fuzzy brain and heavy limbs but exhaustion appeared at the edge of her consciousness wanting to blanket her in cozy folds.
“How was that?” he murmured against her thigh, his gravelly voice sending shivers through her skin.
She tried to think of an adjective for something so indescribably perfect. Nothing. She tried to think of any adjectives. Still nothing. She sighed blissfully. “You broke my brain.”
He chuckled.
And then he did it again.
* * *
Dzer-Jin lay by her side, petting her hair, stroking little circles on her belly, just touching her randomly, gently, soothing her back into reality.
She exhaled, feeling like a melted puddle of euphoric goo. “That was fantastic. You are fantastic. I’m just going to lie here for the next…century. If that’s okay with you.”
He snorted, amused. “Don’t the males of your planet service you regularly like this?”
“Uh, no. No, I haven’t been that lucky.”
He was still caressing her, lightly, just enough to demonstrate his continued presence. She had never felt so loved. It was…wrong.
She had to get that emotion out of her brain. It wasn’t real. In their situation, it never could be.
If only the whole slavery thing hadn’t happened. If only she’d met him on Earth. Of course, if he had come to Earth, he’d probably never have chosen her. He could have had his pick of stunning, glamorous women. And that thought upset her.
She wanted him for herself. How could she feel this way? Her brain was farther gone than she’d thought.
This all was an illusion. He couldn’t be hers. She was literally his. He owned her. She had to recover some distance between them.
“I’d just like to say that if you demonstrated your skill set on Earth, you’d have women lining up to be your slave,” she announced, aiming for a lighthearted but impersonal mood. “For free. No purchase necessary. And no need for this kidnapping thing.”
He grunted an acknowledgement of the compliment. “However, I prefer quality over quantity.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. One female is enough, if it’s the right one.”
She laughed. “You’re a romantic.”
“What? Say that again.” He didn’t sound offended, just perplexed.
She did, wondering if her collar would translate the word better the second time around.
He rolled his eyes and snorted. “I am merely practical.”
“Romaaantic,” she teased in a sing-song voice.
He made a face. “I’m getting the distinct impression that my perfect slave does not have proper respect for my magisterial authority.”
“Oh, no, I love you and your magisterial authority.” The moment she said the words her heart constricted. Not because she had just voiced a sentence including the three words “I love you” to the alien who freaking owned her, which was very uncool. But because she suddenly feared that her bantering words might be true. And that was even more messed up.
Luckily he took her words in the playful spirit they were originally meant and didn’t bat an eye.
The front door chimed. With an annoyed scowl, Dzer-Jin climbed out of bed. He stood and she watched the play of his muscles beneath toned skin as he strode across the room to grab his robe off a hook by the bedroom door.
This was the first time she had seen him, full body, completely naked and out in the light. He was gorgeous. Museum quality, pin-up quality, drool-worthy gorgeous.
“You’re beautiful,” she said, admiration getting the better of her common sense.
He laughed but the tips of his ears turned red.
“You’re blushing.”
He shrugged into his robe. “Perhaps. Not sure I deserve a compliment for something my parents’ genetics did, not me.”
“You’re beautiful on the inside, too. That’s you.”
He turned and looked at her. The darkness was back in his eyes. He smiled, but it was a smile of terrible sadness and regret. “No. I’m not. I’m really not.”
He headed off to the front door and was gone only a few moments. When he returned he held a messenger-delivered golden envelope.
He did not look happy.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“I must go on a hunt. I’ll return in a few days.” Tossing the envelope on the bed, he stripped off his robe. It joined the envelope in a heap. Then he was rummaging through his closet for clothes.
Climbing out of bed, she picked up his robe. The envelope glinted at her but, much as she wanted to, she didn’t touch it. It wasn’t her place to open his mail. She wished she knew what it said, though. Who sent such invitations—or orders—for a hunting party?
She padded across the room to hang his robe up on its hook by the door. Why wasn’t she pleased he was going? If he left her unsupervised, she might make her escape. She stroked the robe’s soft fabric as it hung in empty folds from its hook. A golden cage was still a cage. She shouldn’t have to remind herself she wanted freedom.
When she turned around, Dzer-Jin had donned black trousers and was stepping into his heavy boots.
“Are you leaving right now?”
“Yes.” He pulled a thick, grey tunic over his head.
“So, it’s like…a hunting emergency?”
He finished dressing and picked up the envelope. “I’ve an assignment.” He gestured with the golden envelope before stalking out toward the kitchen.
“Wait, what?” She followed him.
“Now, remember, purple opens doors. Yellow operates locks.” Tucking the envelope under his arm, he grabbed the stylus and tablet from the kitchen counter and started scribbling. “There’s supplies enough in the kitchen, but if you want something different I have credit at the shop on the corner.”
“That’s okay, I’m sure I’ll be fine with what’s here. What—”
“You have an emergency, you call Lagi.” He finished writing, tore off the page and stuck it to the kitchen wall. “Can you read this?” He indicated his note.
She analyzed his scrawl. A series of glyphs matched those found on what passed for a telephone here. “I input those symbols in the voicebox thingie and I’ll get Lagi.”
“Yes.” Her dislike must have shown on her face, because he continued, “I know you don’t like him, but he’ll help you. He knows I’d kill him if he failed.” She was struck by how serious he sounded.
“I’ll be all right.”
He looked her up and down, frowning. “Do you want a weapon?”
“Pardon?”
“I can give you a weapon if you want. To defend yourself. Just make sure it’s concealed. Slaves aren’t supposed to possess weapons. And don’t injure yourself with it, either.” He strode through the main living space, over to the wall beside her closet, and made a gesture in the air. Suddenly what had been a blank space was now a panel that slid open as quietly as a whisper. “What would you like? Knife? Blaster? I have mini-grenades, but they require practice. I don’t suppose you have practice? No, of course not.”
She smiled. Incredible as it seemed… “You’re worried about me.”
“I am not. I just…want you to have a weapon.”
“That’s so sweet. I’ll be fine. Without a weapon.”
“You’re certain?”
“Yeah. I’d probably just hurt myself. I’ve never handled something like that in my life.”
“Not even a knife?”
“Only for eating.”
“You come from a strange planet.”
“So I gather.”
He closed the panel and it disappeared into the wall.
“Wait, don’t you need a rifle or something? For hunting?”
“No, I’ll pick up a drop weapon at the Guild.”
She didn’t really get what he meant, what any of this meant, but she decided not to ask for further explanation. It was neither her business nor her place, and the problem might just have been her translator. “So…this is it?”
Her eyes had started to water. She always cried at partings, but this was ridiculous.
He nodded. “Yes. Sure you’ll be safe?”
“Yep.” She cleared her throat. “Good luck.”
His head tilted to the side as he regarded her. “Thank you.” Again, he sounded so serious.
An apprehensive shiver struck her. “Dzer-Jin, this…this isn’t dangerous, is it?”
He gave her a wan smile. “Not to me.”
The hard yet haunted look in his eyes pained her. “Must you go?”
“Yes.”
“Make sure you come back.” The words spilled from her, along with a tear or two. She couldn’t help it.
She thought she heard him snarl or swear, then he threw the envelope to the floor and was moving, long strides, crossing the room to her so fast she hadn’t time to react. He took her in his arms, his grip like steel, and bent her backwards. His embrace was all that kept her from falling to the floor.
His mouth attacked hers, his lips brutal and his tongue demanding entrance, to which she immediately surrendered. Again she was reminded of how strong he was. He could easily hurt her any time he put a hand to her, but he didn’t. Even if he secretly wanted to, he didn’t. He always held himself in check, until now. This was the first time she knew he wasn’t holding back.
It was a savage, frenzied kiss. She couldn’t keep up with him, couldn’t breathe. She just took it, allowing him to plunder her mouth, submitting to his desire to bruise her lips and take her breath away.
When he finally tore his mouth from hers, he bowed to press their foreheads together. “If I have to climb out of my own grave, I shall come back to you.”
Suddenly he set her upright and was striding to the front door, while she was still adjusting to standing on her own two feet. Her lips burned and stung. She watched him snatch up the envelope on his way, not even pausing, but at the door, he glanced back.
“Keep safe, Ahno’ee,” he ordered. Then the front door whooshed and he was gone.
* * *
For the first day she plotted her escape.
Using her big picture map, she planned the easiest route to the spaceport. She stalked around the flat, considering what she could pawn and wondering if this city even had pawnshops. She pondered how to ask about ticket prices to Earth without arousing suspicion.
That evening when she sipped her cup of bala and looked at the stars, she attempted to ignore the empty chair beside her and instead visualize getting a bunch of money, finding a spaceship heading for Earth or Telluria or whatever they called it, and riding off home.
If she still had a home. What would have happened to her stuff, with the rent not paid on her apartment for months? How many bills and late fees would have accrued? And what would she use to pay them, since her job was undoubtedly gone by now?
She shook her head. She wouldn’t think about that. The important thing was just to get back to her own planet.
The second day, she wandered down to the spaceport. She hadn’t truly appreciated the scale of what she was up against until she saw the mass of shuttles with her own eyes. It was like Grand Central Station plus Victoria Station plus the Atlanta International Airport, or whatever Earth’s busiest airport was now, combined and magnified by ten. And the sea of creatures—most of them humanoid, but some…not—there were so many of them. The place was mind-boggling.
She could only read the most basic signs, so she had to ask most of her questions at the information kiosk, and its staffer scrutinized her in the same way one might a juicy piece of fruit. In fact, quite a few of the spaceport personnel looked as though they wanted to abduct her. She might have forgotten what a valuable commodity Tellurians were, but these men hadn’t.
As all her hopeful questions were rebuffed with ugly truths, she was forced to face the fact that the only ships traveling to Earth were going to be slaving vessels. Which made sense, she supposed. It wasn’t like Earth had interstellar trade.
But judging from the money-grabbing behavior of the shifty-eyed group of slavers pointed out to her as Earth-going, they would most likely take her money and then shove her in with the chattel to be sold, not nicely honor a ticket to transport h
er home. With her luck, she’d be bought by another monster like her first master. Or worse.
Dodging unwanted advances from a gang of aliens at the exit, she hurriedly returned to Dzer-Jin’s apartment feeling somewhat disheartened…and slightly relieved—a feeling she hated to admit, even to herself. But it wasn’t like she had a whole lot waiting for her on Earth. Exploring a new planet could be fun, especially with Dzer-Jin beside her.
That evening she spent chastising herself for being pretty okay with resigning herself to staying with her current master. She had to start thinking of him like that. Negatively. Her master. Don’t think of him by name.
She was already far too fond of him, thanks to her brain’s psychological defense mechanisms. That’s what Stockholm syndrome was, right? A coping mechanism to aid survival. Her growing affection for Dzer-Jin, stop it, her master wasn’t real. It didn’t mean anything. In fact, it was annoying as hell.
Even more annoyingly, on the third day she missed him. She wanted to hear his gravelly voice. She wanted to watch him mix all those strangely shaped and colored ingredients in his kitchen to create a delicious meal. She wanted to gaze at the night sky, so familiar and yet so different from the one she was accustomed to, while he explained this part of the universe to her. She wanted him to continue teaching her to read. And she wanted to feel his incredibly strong, hard, warm body snuggled up against her in their bed.
His bed, she corrected herself. Everything here in this flat was his, including her. She tried to raise a little righteous indignation over that, but it was undermined by her recurring desire to see him again.
Which led, on the fourth day, to her worrying about his welfare. He was on a hunting trip. What if something happened to him? He was alone, and she didn’t even know where. He could be out in some desolate woods bleeding to death.
What if he was bleeding to death? Or his vehicle had an accident? And what if his transmitter couldn’t get a signal? Who would help him?
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