by Carew, Opal
Slaves of Love
Opal Carew
When Shena betrayed Keern, he swore revenge. Now she is his slave…
Shena is a pawn to her father’s desire to extend his holdings. She’s known neither kindness nor love, until one fateful day when she meets Keern. In a few passionate hours together, he teaches her what it means to feel loved and protected. She would do anything to protect him from her father’s greed, but in a moment of weakness, she reveals Keern’s identity and sets in motion a series of events that lead to his brother’s death and her sale as a slave.
Keern believes Shena betrayed him. When she plays the venomous shrew to push him away and keep him safe, he falls for the act and grows to hate her. When his brother dies, he swears his revenge and tracks her all the way to the auction blocks. He purchases her for his slave, but will he find satisfaction for his rage or will the overwhelming sexual attraction they share make him her slave instead?
Praise for Slaves of Love
4.5 Blue Ribbons!
"SLAVES OF LOVE is an erotic and slightly voyeuristic treat. Find out if Shena can convince Keern of her innocence before it is too late by reading this enticing story."
Carol, Romance Junkies
4 Hearts!
"It's fast paced, exciting, and there is a lot of sex… Slaves of Love is one of those books that will have you thinking long after you get done…"
Julia, The Romance Studio
"[Opal Carew] has done a great job in developing a well-written story about the healing power of love. The passion they share and the love that is built between them is very romantic as well as heart-warming. This book is for all the hopeless romantics. I know they will enjoy this as much as I did."
Kim, Cupid's Library Reviews
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this story are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Slaves of Love
Copyright © 2011 by Opal Carew
All Rights Are Reserved.
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First Opal Carew edition: April 2011
www.OpalCarew.com
Slaves of Love
Opal Carew
Dedication
To Mark, my inspiration, my love
Chapter One
Shena stood totally naked on the high rock ledge overlooking her favorite pond. Her scratchy tunic and loose-fitting taygha pants sat in a heap on the grass by the water, her plain white bra and panties tucked underneath. Two crimson garals glided over the water on delicate, feathered wings. Others trilled in the trees, and a light breeze set the leaves aflutter, the gentle rustle soothing to her soul.
This lovely spot had been her mother’s favorite place. Her mother had died from an outbreak of Gahdagha flu, which had claimed the lives of several people in the county when Shena was only a year old. Coming here helped her ground her emotions after dealing with her father’s foul moods.
She swallowed hard as she stared over the glittering water, barely seeing it. Her face still smarted from his smack when she’d dropped a plate while clearing the table after the midday meal. What bothered her most was that he’d come at her with his fist clenched but, at the last minute, hesitated, then slapped her with the flat of his hand. A blow from his fist would have left a black eye or split lip.
She’d noticed the trader ship -- the second this week -- arrive this morning and couldn’t help thinking a mark on her face would make her a less desirable commodity for the traders. Maybe her father intended to carry out his threat this time. She had dashed out of the house as soon as she’d had a chance, hoping if she kept out of sight, he would forget how much she displeased him.
For others, the arrival of a trader ship raised great excitement. The marketplace would swell with exotic goods from many worlds, alongside staples necessary for the inhabitants of this small planet, Tarun, to survive. Shena, however, had lived with her father’s threats far too long. One day, if she wasn’t terribly careful, he might actually carry out his threat to sell her to the traders. Although slavery had been banned on most of the planets in the coalition -- including Tarun -- E’Le’Dor, only a few star systems away, still had a thriving slave trade.
Shena closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath, allowing the sweet, delicate fragrance of caulila blossoms to wash through her. The sun warmed her body, and a soft breath of air brushed across her skin. She smiled. This was what heaven must be like. Sweat trickled between her breasts as she gazed on the rippling water below, sunlight glistening off the surface. It heartened her to know that such beauty existed in the world, even though everyday life was so lacking in it.
She leaped headfirst from the rock, arms outstretched in front of her. The coolness flowed across her naked body as she cut through the water, the grime of sweat and apprehension sluicing from her. Her breasts tightened and her nipples puckered into tight buds. She angled upward. Her head broke through the surface of the water, and she drew in a lungful of fresh air. She floated on her back, the tips of her breasts poking up through the water. The sun felt glorious on her face, and she closed her eyes and emptied her mind, enjoying the only real freedom she knew.
A snap startled her to alertness. Her eyes flicked open, and she shifted to a vertical position in the water, keeping her arms close as she treaded water, attempting to cover herself. She searched the water’s edge with thorough, sweeping glances, but saw no one along the sandy edge or within the trees and bushes beyond the rocky shore.
At a rustling sound, her gaze snapped to the left. A dealla stepped from between two trees and peered at her with wide brown eyes, then dashed away on its long, lanky legs.
That’s all it had been, she chided herself, still quivering. Just a timid grazer. Not one of her father’s soldiers. She swam to the opposite shore and pulled herself from the pool. Beads of water trickled down her limbs and torso.
She dropped onto the small, secluded strip of beach and stretched out on the warm sand. Her skin felt fresh and alive. It even glowed a healthy pink. The decadence of the sun dancing across her body excited her. Her breasts peaked, and her thighs felt deliciously warm. Her fingers slid across her rib cage, over the curve of a breast to her nipple, tight and aching, longing to be touched. She dragged her fingertip over the pebbly areola, then across the tight nub, which felt like a round, soft bead. She loved how it hardened when she touched it, the sharp pangs of excitement that jolted through her, connecting straight to her lower regions. The inner muscles of her vagina tightened and ached. The pace of her breathing increased.
She shouldn’t be doing this, but the intensity of the feelings in her body, the need those feelings aroused, was too overwhelming to ignore. Who would know, or care, what she did?
She cupped her breast, exulting in the feel of the nipple pressing into the sensitive palm of her hand. Her other hand slid across her belly and downward, pausing at the silky feel of her pubic hair. She stroked it, smiling. Soft.
She cupped her other breast and felt her face flush. Her other hand continued downward, across her inner thigh, then around the fleshy fold, spiraling inward. Her muscles tightened as she focused on the intense sensations.
Her finger slid up to the small, hard button cradled in the folds. She dabbed at it, then stroked once and almost cried out at the intense pleasure it gave. The world faded around her as she settled deeply inside herself, experiencing the stroking of her finger, the building of the heat within her, the pleasure flooding through her.
> Stronger and stronger. Higher and higher. It rushed through her like white water in a torrential river. Her breathing, labored and harsh, rushed through her lungs. She felt, rather than heard, the moan start in her throat, then build to a crescendo as she exploded in a burst of pleasure.
She dropped back onto the sand, feeling the air flooding in and out of her lungs, loving the languorous feeling of her body, replete, satisfied in a pleasure of her own making. She stretched, then pushed herself to her feet, knowing she should head home, but reluctant to leave.
* * * * *
Keern sat beyond the bushes, watching the beautiful wood nymph, his eyes glazed over and his breathing slowly returning to normal.
He’d left the small space port in Dudane five long, hot hours ago. The tedious trip had given him ample time to remember all the reasons he’d left this backwater, technology-barren planet in the first place. He’d begun to reconsider his sketchy plans to turn this visit for his brother’s wedding into a permanent stay.
About an hour ago, he’d stopped at the secluded pond to fill his canteen. When he’d heard a splash in the water, he’d cautiously approached to see who was about and had spotted this lovely young woman swimming naked in the pool. Suddenly, this outdated planet brightened with exciting possibilities.
He hadn’t been able to drag his gaze from her. The sunlight had glistened on her long golden hair as it floated around her, and he could see her creamy, naked shoulders and the swell of her breasts above the water. His cock had leapt to attention immediately, confined painfully within his black leather trousers. Shet’ra, what did he expect? He hadn’t been with a woman since Kolanna, the last in a long line of shallow, manipulative women looking to him for excitement. His distinct, sexy accent -- as women described it -- developed over fifteen years of travel across a myriad of worlds, stirred their imaginations. They hoped for exotic gifts and travel to far-off places, but their idea of luxurious, pampered trips did not match the reality of his more basic lifestyle.
His knowledge and understanding of extreme environments put him in high demand across the sector. Anything from frozen tundra to desert inferno, if it was within the range of human endurance, he could survive and navigate it. Most of his jobs involved rescue and recovery. Sometimes training. Clients ranged from rich thrill-seekers to troop commanders wanting him to lead survival courses.
Certainly, he knew how to move through unfamiliar terrain quietly, yet when he’d seen the naked woman in the water, his hormones had flared and he’d missed his footing and tramped on a twig. She must have heard it snap because she’d glanced about, searching for an intruder. Never shifting his gaze from her captivating form, he’d sat down on a rock, ensuring he did not make another sound.
He didn’t usually spy on naked women swimming in pools, but she was so beautiful he couldn’t help himself. He’d held his breath as she’d pulled herself from the water, revealing the full length of her totally naked body. Her breasts, generously proportioned, curved upward, tipped by small areolas with tight, hard nipples. His gaze had drifted to the golden thatch of hair at the top of her thighs, and his throat had gone dry.
When she’d started exploring her sexy, round breasts with her hands, pleasuring herself, he’d almost groaned out loud. He’d had to hold himself down with a steel will to stop himself from leaping from the bushes and joining her in pleasuring that gorgeous body. He’d wanted to hear her moan from his touches.
When she’d reached down to her private folds and stroked her damp crevice, he had almost burst at the seams. In fact, he had taken out his cock, long and hard in a full erection, and stroked it, trembling with the longing to drive it into her glistening opening. He closed his hand around it, stroking back and forth as he watched her, feeling the skin gliding over the hard muscle beneath, excruciating need building within him. He wanted to take her, to fill her up and explode within her in a mind-numbing ejaculation of pleasure.
But he had no right to intrude on her privacy. He had no way of knowing if she would welcome him or flee from him. His instincts told him she would flee. Although she looked open and uninhibited, he somehow knew it was only because she was sure she was alone.
This pond belonged to his family, but they rarely visited here because it was on undeveloped land on the outskirts of their property, far from the house and the fields, and the other landowners respected the boundaries of their neighbors.
The last thing he wanted to do was cut short her incredible performance, but more importantly, he didn’t want to frighten her. So he moved his hand to the rhythm of hers, imagined himself plunging into her as she moaned in pleasure, and burst in a fierce ejaculation just as she cried out in climax.
Now he slumped back on the ground, exhausted.
Once his breathing calmed down, he put his wilted member away and pulled himself to his feet. He really should be on his way, but as he watched her extend her arms in a long, languorous stretch, then push herself to her feet, he decided to stay and see if she would dive into the water again. The beauty of her agile, curvaceous form cutting through the water was sheer poetry.
Suddenly, the hair at the back of his neck prickled. Had he heard horses? Quietly, he pushed through the underbrush, leaving the lovely nymph behind as he headed toward the road. He raced to the peak of the hill leading to the quiet spot and saw a wagon of soldiers heading this way. Darg’ra, what were they doing here? At this distance, he couldn’t make out the crest on their uniforms, not that he would necessarily recognize which of the landholders it represented after more than a decade away.
The pond was not obvious from the road, secluded behind trees and brush, so they weren’t coming here by accident. Why would they be trespassing on his land? Did they know about the young woman?
These soldiers didn’t look like the type who would watch her quietly from a distance, and he couldn’t stand the thought of these oafs catching sight of his lovely maiden, let alone touching her with their large, rough hands.
He had to get back to his wood nymph. He had to protect her.
* * * * *
Shena felt a hand slide around her naked body and pull her backwards against a hard male chest. At the same time, another hand clamped over her mouth, cutting off her scream.
“I won’t hurt you,” a strange male voice promised. The hint of an unfamiliar accent tinged his words. Off-world and educated.
She froze in absolute terror at being held in a man’s grasp while naked and vulnerable. Yet at the same time, the feel of his body against hers set off some very strange feelings. Arousing feelings. Her throat constricted painfully, and she clawed at the steel arm fastened around her waist, desperate to free herself.
His grip tightened, pulling her more firmly against his body.
“Listen to me.” His words rasped in her ear. “There’s a group of soldiers heading this way, so stay still and don’t make any noise. You don’t want to draw their attention.”
Soldiers? She froze in terror.
“They won’t be content to just watch politely, like I did. If I remove my hand from your mouth, do you promise not to scream?”
She nodded. Whether he spoke the truth or not, she didn’t know, but she was too terrified to chance it. He released her mouth, but not her body.
“Let me go,” she demanded, her voice a harsh whisper.
“I don’t think so, neisha.”
His light, teasing tone sent her off balance, and his use of the endearment confused her. Neisha was not a term an off-worlder would use. In fact, with the slight drag on the last syllable ... Could he be a local?
“If I see your luscious body again, I may not be able to control myself.” His words melted through her.
She became aware of her nipples tightening, her vagina contracting. He’d watched her swim. Oh, God, he’d seen her taking pleasure.
Memories of the pleasure rippled through her body, but this time she imagined his gaze as a tangible feeling caressing her body as her fingers caressed her inti
mate self. Images superimposed on her memory, of him leaving his hiding place, of his strong, tanned hands touching her body.
He loosened his hold on her slightly as he used one hand to remove his cape, then eased her away from him just enough to slide it around her shoulders. She grasped it and pulled it close around her, fastening it at the neck. The rich, smooth feel of the fabric, unmistakably ancula, a Tarun fiber, surrounded her with warmth and an odd sense of security. The heady, male scent enveloped her.
He gripped her arm with a gentle but resolute hold and guided her with him into the wooded area overlooking the pond. She struggled, trying to free herself from his grip, desperate to get away from him, her insides shuddering uncontrollably at the powerful and unfamiliar feelings of attraction to him.
His hair, dark brown and wavy, curled around his ears and neck. His warm bronze eyes watched her as he effortlessly guided her along, yet she didn’t feel threatened by his gaze, not like she always did with her father’s men. Their stares, which seemed to strip her of dignity, always frightened her.
“We’ll stay here until they pass,” he said.
“Let me go,” she insisted.
“No. You don’t believe I’m telling the truth about the soldiers. Until you see them with your own eyes, which should be in about five minutes, I’m going to hold tight.”
She was far too conscious of his arm around her waist. His other arm slid around her, and then his hand flattened on her upper chest just below her collarbone, pressing her tight against his strong, broad chest. His leather belt and metal buckle pressed into her lower back, and his pelvis pressed against her buttocks. Only fabric lay between her bare bottom and his ... She felt a blush flame across her face, and she struggled against him. Oh, God, she felt a bulge grow against her. Her movements were arousing him. Blinding fear lanced through her, challenged by a powerful desire to experience the tender loving of a man.