“What do you think when you see all those stars up there? Those moons?”
She didn’t answer right away, instead laying her smooth cheek against his skin. “I think of... all I know. And all I don’t yet understand.”
“No matter how much I try, some things I’ll never understand. No matter how much knowledge I acquire, some things in this universe are still a mystery to me.”
She murmured, then kissed his chest. “Now, you know how I feel.”
It’s time to ask it, you oaf. Just get it over with. End the torture.
“Knowing what you know now, if you had the chance, the choice—would you do this all again? Would you be here? With me?”
For a long moment, she was silent, and he thought perhaps she’d fallen asleep. Then she stirred, gazing up his body at him, her eyes unreadable, almost black in the shadows of the bedroom.
“I think for this knowledge? To experience what I’ve experienced?” She looked up at the trio of moons decorating the heavens. “I think I’d do just about anything.”
And with that, he had his answer.
“Get some sleep, girl,” he whispered, pressing a long, soft kiss to her hair. “Big day tomorrow.”
Staring at the night sky, the emptiness within him yawned open, endless, engulfing.
Heartbreaking,
Lukanos smiled up at the impassive, uncaring, ever-watching stars, tears tracking down his cheeks.
Chapter Eleven
He’d wrapped her in a light blue cloak so heavy it felt more like armor than clothing. Pulling the hood over her head, she was nearly lost in the shadows of it. Was he protecting her from them—or was he protecting them from her?
He led her by the hand through the press of bodies, the crowd funneling into an auditorium of sorts, all around them the short, staccato cadence of their alien speech. Few spared more than a glance at her, perhaps mistaking her diminutive stature for that of a child. Making their way up stairs, then yet more stairs, he ushered her into a gallery, high above the main floor.
“What is happen—?”
“No,” he said, in his native language. She’d learned at least that much in her time with him.
Forcing herself to be content with watching, the ceremony went on, two people, a man and a woman, at the center of it. Soon enough, she realized this must be some sort of marriage or commitment ceremony. She hadn’t delved much into their culture yet on her daily sojourn through the neural net, but she intended to soak up that knowledge soon enough. Perhaps she’d better understand the gorgeous, infuriating man she called Master—of only in her mind, thus far.
But that’s what he was to her, spoken or not.
And you’re still okay with that?
She was more than okay, and only recently had she been able to admit that to herself. She really was his, and property or not, she’d come to accept it.
There was a huge problem though.
She wanted more.
And the hulking man who held her heart in his hands? She still didn’t know.
You have to tell him, idiot.
Somewhere inside of him, was the key. The way into his heart, the door into his soul. But what if this was as far as he ever wanted to go with this? She’d feared—more than once—that he really did only see her as a toy, a plaything. If that was true, then she was doomed, her need for something more an everlasting dead-end.
It had weighed on her, heavily. She’d pulled away from him, needing something—anything—that might let her hope there was more to his affection, to the way he took her, the way he used her. Lust was never an issue—there was more than enough to last three lifetimes between the two of them.
No, the issue was that she needed... she was still afraid to even think the word.
She needed love. But how could she ever have that on a strange planet peopled with beings who saw her as little more than a pet, a diversion, an amusing plaything?
What if he wasn’t capable of giving her what she needed? The answer was stark, and true, and undeniable.
She’d die a little every day without it, until she cared not what happened to her. She’d sacrificed so much already, given up everything she’d ever known. Was it so selfish of her to want this one thing? To need something she still wasn’t sure she’d ever really experienced?
She watched the ritual before them, glancing up at her Master occasionally for any reaction, even a twitch of that granite jaw. But he stared at the couple at the center of it all, his eyes betraying nothing, as if he’d closed himself off to her at last.
And what if he has? What then?
Her breath caught as the woman at the center of the ceremony bared her breasts, kneeling before the man at her side. She peered up at him as she spoke, her words lost to Alisse, but the feeling one she could well understand.
Then it was the man’s turn, stripping to the waist and kneeling before the woman, his words perhaps even more charged with emotion. Alisse wondering what it would be like to have a man commit himself like that to her, in front of everyone he knew. How she longed for it, even if she wasn’t entirely sure what it was.
But you can’t have that here. And you’re a fool to hope for it.
She dropped her gaze, pulling the cloak around herself, no longer wanting to watch, the ceremony only reinforcing the fact that she’d forever be on the outside looking in. The other.
Suddenly, she was filled with despair, her tears threatening.
Then the cloak’s hood was lowered, and Lukanos’ beautiful eyes filled her vision. His smile, warm as ever, buoyed her spirits, even as she felt he suffered too. Was he struggling the way she was? What if his feelings had grown in the same direction? He kissed her softly, then gave her another quick smile.
But something passed across his gaze. It was only for a moment, but it was unmistakable.
She’d seen pain in his eyes. Great pain.
Taking her by the hand, he dashed through the crowd, Alisse having to run to keep up, but rather than take her back to his transport car, he led her down a broad boulevard, filled with people. Turning through a soaring stone gate, he walked with her out onto a vast, weathered tarmac. Crowded with ships of all types, from gargantuan military vessels she remembered from the neural net to tiny personal skiffs like the one Lukanos had used to ferry her to his house that first incredible night on the planet.
He stopped, turning to her, his face drawn, pale. “You know, in all the time I’ve been with you, all the words we’ve exchanged, there’s one thing I’ve never once said to you.”
“What’s that, Master?”
He smiled at the honorific, but the smile held a hollowness now. He bent over her, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head, his blue eyes flat, the sorrow plain in them now.
“I’ve never told you sorry, Alisse.”
“Sorry? For what?”
“For this.”
A bloom of heat flared at the base of her neck, her legs seeming to turn to water in an instant. As she stumbled and fell into his arms, she met his gaze, her mouth working soundlessly.
The last thing she saw before her world grayed out... was a single tear falling from his eye.
*****
He found the Captain at the base of the entrance ramp for his transport, the mains already starting to spin up with a low hum.
“Just tell me one thing,” he asked as he handed Maerata the most precious thing he’d ever owned.
Lukanos kissed the unconscious Alisse’s cheek one last time, trying to commit the feel of her smooth skin to memory, one he hoped would last the rest of his days.
“Why’d you do it?” Lukanos stepped back, afraid he’d lose his nerve and take back the cloak-wrapped human beauty cradled in Maerata’s arms. “When we were on Terra, why did you do everything you could to get us to stay?”
Maerata stared at him for a moment, the engines getting louder by the second. “I thought I saw something that might have a chance.” The Captain glanced down at Alisse, then met Lukanos�
�� gaze once more.
He saw something he’d never seen before in his commanding officer’s eyes.
Sorrow. Regret.
“Sometimes... I don’t get it right though.” Maerata backed away, then strode up the ramp.
Lukanos watched him go, the entrance sealing with a hiss behind the Captain.
The liftoff sequence begun, the mains screamed to life. Lukanos bellowed at the top of his lungs as the hulking ship rose from the tarmac.
He screamed then, the sound lost in the din of the engines’ roar. Turning his face toward the sky, he let it all go, pouring forth his hurt until he had nothing left.
Until his heart was as empty as a night sky without stars.
Chapter Twelve
It was bitter timing that he had yet another Induction ceremony to attend so soon after letting Alisse go. He supposed it was fitting, deserved. He’d taken from her, and now she was taking from him, with every heartrending, aching second without her.
He took a seat high in the gallery, just as he’d done that day with Alisse, and it too brought back fresh hurt. He’d never forget how she watched the proceedings with that uniquely human wide-eyed wonder. The sense of discovery, despite her species’ likely fatal flaws, was strong with humans, and even now, it made him smile, that sense of excitement, of possibility warming his cold, broken heart, if only for a moment.
His friend Gellus had taken his cue, dropping to his knees now before his beautiful, beloved Mele. As the vows were spoken, the bond begun, he felt the emptiness again, the void left by his missing slavegirl, the one who’d enslaved his heart as much as he’d enslaved her body. It was a cruelty he deserved—for the rest of his life. Hope was finally lost—at least for him—and in its place he had to console himself with her memory, with the knowledge that she would have the chance to love one of her own, to make a life, have a family, with a man of her people.
Not a monster who’d forced her to kneel at his feet like a pet.
“You forgot to bring something with you to the ceremony, didn’t you?”
“I left their gift with Gellus’ mother,” Lukanos said listlessly, not even looking up at whomever it was speaking to him. It didn’t matter anyway—he’d slink out of the assembly hall before the reception.
Then it hit him. That voice should’ve been on the other side of the galaxy.
He snapped his gaze up to find Captain Maerata standing in the aisle, still dressed in his jumpsuit for Gate transit.
“What... what are you doing here, Captain?”
“I’ve got something that’s yours.” With a hint of a smile, Maerata stepped aside.
It can’t be. It’s... no, this can’t be.
It was Alisse.
Dressed in a wrap style dress the color of pale frost that hugged and showcased every one of her luscious curves, she stepped forward. Her lips were painted a dark maroon, her eyelashes thick with midnight kohl. Her jet hair shined, her eyes sparkling with a light he hadn’t seen since the first time he’d held her in his arms as they watched the rise of the Three Sisters in the night sky.
“What—what are you doing here?” He looked up at Maerata. “Why didn’t you take her back?”
The captain shrugged, glancing at her. “I did—but she convinced me that leaving her there wasn’t the best idea. Persuasive one, this human.”
Lukanos’ voice was almost a whisper. “Why?”
“I think she’s the one who should tell you that.”
She frowned then, those eyes conveying something else entirely now, a little piece of the agony he’d been drowning in since the day he’d let her go.
“Answer one thing for me,” she said, her voice strong. “Why did you send me away? Just tell me why.”
He looked away, at the ceremony cementing a type of love—a love that lasted forever—that he knew he’d never have. “Because... something changed. Something that—I just couldn’t, Alisse. It was wrong—all of it.”
“Wrong?” She stepped closer, laying a hand on his chest. “How can you say that?”
He met her gaze then, and was struck anew at her perfection, at how much he longed to hold her again, if even for a moment. He’d make that memory last a lifetime, if he had to.
“It was wrong... because you were my slave.” He swallowed down the lump in his throat. “And I had fallen in love with my slave.” He touched her hand, holding it to him, savoring every second of her skin against his, knowing it would be the last time he felt it. “I’m in love with you, Alisse. How could I make the one I love my slave? My pet? I let you go—because I love you.”
Alisse’s eyes sparkled then, and she sat down next to him, turning to face him. Her hand upon his chest caressed him for a moment, and his heart clenched, the pain, the sweet cruelty of it almost too much.
“Let me tell you something, Lukanos. You may be this big, advanced species, watching over and shepherding beings like us, but there is one area you’re not advanced in at all. It’s the one area where humans have you beat. And it’s called love.” She touched his face then, a slender finger tracing the line of his lower lip. “You want to know how I know this? Because, I met you.”
She slipped to her knees before him, laying a hand on each of his thighs, her big, beautiful eyes peering up at him. Her trembling, painted lips were indescribably lovely as she spoke.
“I was too stupid to admit it to myself—until the day you sent me away. No person on Earth could ever replace what we had here—could replace you. No person could make me feel the things you have. Not ever.” She pressed her forehead to one of his knees for a moment, then looked up at him again. “I want Lukanos, and the Master. I want to be yours, in every way. Even if that means I have to be on my knees at your side, that’s where I want to be. I’m in love with you, Lukanos—and I don’t care if I have to cross an entire galaxy to tell you so.”
He took her in his arms then, and the gentle press of her lips to his was the sweetest one yet. At that moment, it finally came together, the despair banished from his heart. At that moment, it didn’t matter who owned whom, who knelt for whom. All that mattered was that they were together, forever.
One.
About Trent Evans
Trent Evans is an independent author of BDSM erotic romance and erotica. Putting pen to paper since he was a wee lad, he decided to try to share some of the tales cooked up in his fevered imagination. Some readers might not be horrified at what he writes. He tries to write stories that appeal to both women and men (wow, threading the needle), but will follow wherever the story takes him.
A long-time resident of the Pacific Northwest, the author believes that the high percentage of authors in the region (compared to the nation as a whole) is chiefly due to the fact that it's so damned wet and miserable all the time there. They tend to use their long hours cooped up inside spinning yarns that depict things they'll never see or experience—such as sunshine.
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Sweet Birdie Blue by Alta Hensley
Chapter One
Rem Langston pulled the collar of his woolen coat higher around his neck, trying his best to shield against the biting wind. Winter was bound to hold on longer than normal in the Sierras this year, keeping spring at bay. It wasn’t something he minded, but cold nonetheless. His boots crunched against the snow as he maneuvered beneath the pinion pines, hanging heavy with the morning’s snowfall. Timmy Collins had been down by the river fishing and noticed a beaver building a dam. Grateful for the bit of information, Rem made his way to clear the obstruction. He wasn’t going to let a beaver’s dam get in the way of his business.
Born and raised
an ice harvester, Rem made a living making ice in the lower region of the Sierra mountains and floating it down the Truckee River to the miners in the city below. Not necessarily a glamorous life, but the harvesting of ice provided a roof over his head and allowed him the luxury to care for his aging ma who’d been widowed for years now. Rem Langston was not one for complaining as he battled the mountain temperatures and worked from sun up to sun down. And in cases like now, where the sun had already set, he’d no doubt be working under the night’s moon. Blocks of ice were due for delivery by midday tomorrow, and a beaver’s dam could stop that from happening. If anything, he was reliable, and he wasn’t about to change that reputation.
Approaching the dam, Rem gave a sigh of relief to see that the river still flowed steadily around it. The collection of small twigs was far from a dam, but he made haste to clear them before an issue arose. It would be an early night after all, and he was glad since the air temperature took a nosedive in the quick time it took him to walk from Boca Town to the northern riverbank of the Truckee River.
Clearing the last twig, a scurrying to his right caught his attention. It was high time he killed that beaver so this wouldn’t be an ongoing problem. Reaching for his pistol, he inched his way toward the noise. Rem wouldn’t consider himself much of a hunter, but rather preferred to buy his meat from the local mercantile. But his pa had made sure he was capable if need be. Not to mention, he could use the beaver fur to make a nice stole for his ma.
The moonlight reflecting off the snow lit his path as he scanned the area for any movement. His finger sat ready at the trigger, waiting for the varmint to show its face. It wasn’t until he walked around a large pine, that he saw the source of the noise. Up against a cluster of trees sat a makeshift shelter composed of broken twigs and pine needles. In front of it, warming herself with a pathetic fire that barely crackled against the chilly night air, sat Birdie Bluebell.
Rem wasn’t exactly surprised to see her there. He had heard the town gossip from the school marm and the church ladies. Birdie Bluebell’s pa, Jedson Bluebell, liked his whiskey and turned mean as the devil. Word was that when his fists started flailing, Birdie became the victim. Rem had also heard that Birdie would run away for days, living on the northern riverbank in a shelter she built herself. No place for a young lady, the church women would say. They’d pity the girl, but wouldn’t do much more than talk about her. And in the end, Birdie always went back to her pa once the whiskey ran dry.
Bound, Spanked and Loved: Fourteen Kinky Valentine's Day Stories Page 72