Sex Slaves 2: Waiting For Yesterday

by Lorie O'Clare

  She gasped when the cloth ran over her breast, her nipple hardening while a tingling rushed through her. She didn’t understand. How many times had her breasts been fondled, sucked, tugged or pinched? This was just another man. It made no sense that her body responded with such need, such an intense craving for him to fuck her.

  “I’ve never seen a woman without tattoos.” His hand moved to her belly, coming dangerously close to the painful wave of heat she couldn’t control burning between her legs.

  “Now you have.” Tremors rippled through her when he reached into the water, lifting her leg.

  “You’re cold.” He began washing her faster, increasing the intensity of pressure that built to a dangerous level deep inside her pussy. “I’ll hurry.”

  He misunderstood her body’s reaction to his touch. Rinsing the cloth out one last time he rubbed it over her other leg thoroughly. Dree couldn’t stop the heat from streaming through her, coming while he cleaned her. She came, closing her eyes, riding out the intensity of her orgasm. He’d barely touched her. His actions weren’t sexual. And yet she’d just exploded with the best orgasm she’d experienced in a long time. None of this made any sense.

  Something must be wrong with her. Maybe she’d been bred to be fucked a certain amount of times daily and without sex her body acted strangely. She hadn’t been fucked in so long maybe she’d grown oversensitive. That would explain her inability to control how she reacted to Marc being so close, running his hands over her body, the roughness of the cloth sending her over the edge.

  When he stood, she saw the hard length of his cock pressing through his pants. She sucked in her breath, the twirling in her stomach spreading throughout her body. The trembling didn’t stop when she tried to get out of the tub, and step into the towel he’d opened for her.

  “You’re kind to help me.” She let him wrap the towel around her, wanting to move closer into his warmth.

  “No. I’m not.” He didn’t pull her to him but instead let go of the towel, stepping away from her. He turned as if he might leave her alone.

  “I don’t know that I’ve ever been bathed before,” she confessed, hurrying to dry.

  For some reason she didn’t want to be left alone. Or maybe she didn’t want him to leave her. Whatever reason, she was being silly. The first chance she had, she would return to the castle. Her place was with her people, not with this stranger.

  “Tell me about Torl.” He surprised her with the request.

  “What do you want to know?” She dressed, looking up at him while she pulled the clean pants given to her up her legs. “It’s a beautiful place. I mean…it was a beautiful place.”

  Marc’s penetrating stare unnerved her. His gaze strolled down her, heat rushing through her wherever he looked. His cock was still hard, pressing against his pants. She knew if she touched it, ran her fingers along its length, it would be rock-hard, thick and throbbing, burning with the same fire that rushed through her.

  “Are you a sex trader?” he asked, moving forward to unfold the shirt provided for her.

  “No.” The pants were too big. She looked down, fidgeting with the waistband. Nothing she could do would make them fit her properly but she didn’t want to look up at him. His questioning would lead to him learning who and what she was. And she wasn’t sure how he would react to the knowledge.

  “I didn’t think so.” He handed her the shirt, which she took, still not looking at him. “But Torl is a place where sex slaves are sold and bred.”

  She nodded. It wasn’t a question, but she felt he waited for some kind of response from her.

  Dree jumped when he touched her. She hadn’t expected it. He would learn she was nothing more than a tool to please others, that she’d been with so many men, and women, she had lost count, that she had been merchandise, offered to the highest bidder. He would despise her, not want to reach out for her.

  “Dree.” Her name came out on a breath. His fingers wrapped around her neck, forcing her to look up at him, his fingers pressing into her flesh while he raised her face to his. “You are no longer a slave.”

  “That’s right.” She couldn’t look away from him. His light blue eyes flooded with emotions she didn’t understand. Her heart began racing, her breath coming in gasps. She needed him to understand she hadn’t escaped from Torl, but had fled from her home. No one hunted her or cared where she was. “Torl is destroyed. The Bortan came and killed almost everyone. A few of us escaped here.”

  “So now you are free.” He nodded once, understanding. “And you shall stay free.”

  Her heart stopped for a moment. She swore it did. There was no way that he meant to ensure she remained free. The fire burning in his blue orbs made them so dark they looked dangerous. But it couldn’t be a passion to help her with her cause.

  It was lust. Plain and simple. Somehow he managed to control his desires more than she. If given a moment to do what she wanted, she would demand he fuck her, beg him to take away the aching pressure he’d built inside her.

  Dree sucked in a breath, forcing her heart to resume beating. “Yes. I will keep my freedom.”

  And that meant at any cost. She would leave Marc and head back to her people to make sure that they stayed free, and found a decent life.

  She reached for her shirt, but he didn’t release her face. Instead his grip tightened, his fingers moving over her skin, torturing her with the slight movement.

  He held her face in place while he kissed her. When he’d bathed her, his touch, his actions, had been gentle. Marc wasn’t gentle now. His kiss was demanding, aggressive. A fire ignited into roaring flames inside her. Dree could barely breathe. She opened to him, parting her lips when he crushed his mouth to hers, feeding him while his heat burned through her.

  While traveling there, she’d refused to relax against him. It had taken so much for her to tune him out, not let his incredible body get to her. Now all of her strength had disappeared. Her fingers traced up his rock-hard chest, feeling his muscles ripple underneath his shirt.

  Men didn’t usually want to kiss her. They wanted her body. And her training had made her a very sensual lover. But this kiss, this incredibly sensual act performed on her mouth—she had no defense. She turned into a puddle of lust, a craving need billowing through her out of control.

  Marc gripped her shoulders then slid his hands over her feverish skin. When he cupped her breasts, charges of electricity shot through her, aiming straight for her pussy. The impact left her gasping.

  “Are you okay?” Marc broke the kiss, his face still inches from hers.

  Dree nodded, certain she couldn’t speak while his hands continued to knead her breasts, his thumbs strumming over her nipples.

  “We won’t tell anyone about this.” He moved his hands from her breasts, again gripping her shoulders.

  At least now she could think, sort of. His words made sense. It probably wouldn’t do for a man of his rank to be consorting with a former sex slave. She hid the small pang of disappointment that he would be ashamed of her.

  Straightening, she took the shirt he’d denied her a moment before. “That’s fine. I’ve no one to tell.”

  Marc watched her slip the shirt on, which came down almost to her knees. She was sure she looked ridiculous, but at least she was clean.

  “There is no reason for anyone to know about your past.” Marc seemed to be studying her. He tapped his finger to his lips, reminding her instantly of the intense heat that mouth had created within her. “It will go better for you if everyone believes you are of a higher rank.”

  “A higher rank?” She’d thought many times since they’d arrived here on Benox that more could be accomplished if she could change her identity. But until this moment, she hadn’t thought it possible.

  “No tattoos will be hard to explain. And your name…” Marc walked around her.

  She turned, watching him. He moved with impressive silence considering how tall he was, how muscular. Just thinking about that solid ches
t made her fingers tingle, aching to touch him again. Her breasts were swollen, heavy, while her nipples still puckered in hopes he would return his attention to them. And the fire burning deep inside her, the pressure building in her pussy, was almost too much to handle. She wanted him inside her, deep inside her, pounding away the painful need he’d created.

  “What’s wrong with my name?” She needed to stay focused. All of her life she had followed orders, done as she was told. If she didn’t pay attention, this man would take over the role of her new master.

  She wouldn’t have that. Her freedom had come at too high a price to let go.

  “Nothing is wrong with Dree. It’s the Torl part that has me worried. Obviously there are those who will pick up on it as a slave trader name.”

  “But Torl is gone. The Bortan wiped out most of my home planet, Poltar. Most of the sex trader estates were destroyed.”

  Marc nodded. “I remember hearing about it in passing. The Bortan wanted the sex traders on Poltar to follow their rules, pay their taxes.”

  Dree had heard the politics discussed too, when she’d been in the company of her master. Torl had been so convinced the Bortan could never touch him. She fought the memory as it surfaced, watching her master’s home explode while he was inside. The Bortan had destroyed Torl land in less than an hour.

  She barely heard the carrier door open behind her. Marc moved quickly, putting himself between her and whoever would enter. The warm night air and the smell of the campfire immediately surrounded her.

  Trent Dar stepped inside, his large dark frame blocking the entrance, and making the space inside the carrier seem much smaller.

  “The King’s men have followed us.” He looked at Marc, and then past him to her. His black hair, straight and falling to his shoulders, bordered his brooding expression. Black eyes, blacker than night, studied her.

  Her heart began pounding; she was not sure if she liked the way he looked at her or not. He didn’t trust her, and she wasn’t sure why.

  Marc stepped to the side, blocking her view of Trent. And his view of her. “How close are they?”

  “Too close. They have carriers that are faster than ours, better equipped.”

  Marc looked down, rubbing his chin. If he could have, he probably would have paced. But the carrier barely allowed room for the three of them and the tub. When he took a step forward, Trent caught her attention with those intent black eyes.

  “What do they want?” She was looking at Trent when she asked, but she turned her attention to Marc. “Why were you at the castle?”

  “In a matter of words, Marc told him the House of Torin will not submit to the King’s leadership.” Trent Dar’s words sunk through her like heavy bricks when she realized the King’s men were coming to take them captive.

  Chapter Four

  “Have the armies prepare from home.” Marc reached for Dree, taking her smaller hand in his. “We’ll break camp and head that way. Even if we are overtaken by the King’s men, my armies should arrive in enough time to prevent too much damage.”

  The Gren nodded, turning to carry out his instructions. The best thing to do would be to get Dree out of the way. He doubted she had seen much combat, other than her world being destroyed. And he had no desire to add to her nightmares.

  Her warm hand felt clammy in his. She was frightened and he wished he could protect her better than what he had to offer. Walking through the dark campsite, his men hurried around them to disassemble everything.

  “Stay inside.” He lifted the carrier door they’d traveled in, holding her hand while she stepped into the back. “It will take a bit to tear down camp, but then we will head home. You’ll be safe here.”

  She looked like she might protest, her worried expression searching his face. The longer he knew her, the more intelligence she displayed. Dree nodded silently and backed into the carrier.

  More than anything he wanted to keep her by his side. Soon enough they would leave, and he would be with her then. But walking away, needing to confirm the reports, see the scanners, speak with his leaders, a longing to return to Dree overwhelmed him.

  There had been women before, lovers he’d visited when there had been time. But no one had ever filled him with a longing to fuck like Dree did. He wanted to know her, to learn every sweet curve of her body. And he needed to discover why she captivated him the way she did. Maybe Torl sex slaves had a secret to empowering their lovers.

  Unfortunately, he didn’t have time to think about any of that now. There were too many matters at hand to focus on how sweet her mouth had tasted, how wonderful her plump, ripe breasts had felt in his hands. The way she had sunk against him when he kissed her made her seem a young lady, new to the ways of a lover, instead of a mature woman who had lived through more than most should ever have to.

  “I’ve contacted the House of Torin.” Trent Dar pulled his thoughts back to where they should be.

  “How long until camp is torn down?” Marc glanced around him. His men were moving quickly, collapsing the heat lamps and gathering the kitchen supplies they’d used to eat while he’d been at the castle.

  “We’ll be ready to head out of here soon.” One of his men spoke up, while all of them moved with the practiced speed of trained warriors.

  “Let’s put the equipment in the carrier.” Marc nodded to the computer and tracking equipment Trent had been using.

  Within minutes they had collapsed the table and torn down the console used when on missions. Marc led the way to his carrier, computer in hand. Dree pushed the door open when they approached and surprised him when she eagerly reached to help load everything inside.

  This time, Dree sat cross-legged on the floor, her silky white hair reflecting in the light from the three moons. The clothes they’d found for her draped over her body, making it impossible to see any of that luscious body underneath. Her white hair was damp, strings of it draping over her shoulders that she shoved behind her back. Equipment stacked up around her but she didn’t seem to mind. Whenever he glanced down at her, her attention was on the computer Marc had braced in his lap. Those gray eyes seemed to catch every action, follow every detail.

  “Well hell.” The incoming message flashed on the panel drawing him away from focusing on Dree. Marc picked up the receiver, glancing at the screen as he did. “They are contacting us.”

  “Stop your cruisers by orders of King Sorale.” The King’s officer didn’t bother with introductions.

  Marc looked over at the panel in front of the Gren. “How long before we intercept with my men?”

  Trent pushed the button to open the scanner for long distances. “We’re just now picking up something.” He pulled the porta-comm from the dash, pushed the necessary buttons, and held it up to his ear. “Report in. What is your location?”

  He listened, and then turned to look at Marc. “We’ll intercept in two hours.”

  “Damn it to the hells.” He flipped the switch to open the line with the King’s guard. “We are no longer in the King’s jurisdiction.”

  “Do you refuse to honor the King’s wishes?” There was a challenge in the guard’s tone.

  Both knew that it would be as bad as an act of aggression for the leader of the House of Torin to refuse the King’s request. Marc didn’t doubt for a minute that the King finally figured out that he’d walked out of there without offering any reassurance that Torin would submit to him.

  “The King’s carriers have increased speed.” Trent Dar also increased speed.

  “We are under a tight schedule.” Marc decided to ignore the guard’s last comment. “Explain why the King would have us stop when there is no apparent reason to do so.”

  He reached between the seats where he and the Gren sat, and moved supplies off of the long silver case that held their weapons. Trent Dar glanced over at him, the silent acknowledgement in the Gren’s black eyes telling him what he needed to know. Marc wouldn’t instigate aggression when they were obviously so outmatched. But they wou
ld defend themselves. He would not submit to the King.

  “You have left with some of the King’s property.” Now the guard sounded annoyed. “You will stop your carriers immediately so that they can be searched. The King wishes his property returned.”

  Like hell he would. King Sorale wouldn’t see the day when Marc of Torin submitted to his wishes. The man was a scrawny idiot, had no sense of honor, and based a man’s worth on what he had that the King could steal.

  He forced his jaw to relax so that he could speak to the guard without showing too much of his outrage that the King would assume he was no better than a common thief.

  “Return home and inform your King that we have nothing that belongs to him.” Marc leaned back in his chair, relaxing somewhat with knowledge that this was nothing more than one of the King’s silly games. “I apologize that your time has been wasted driving out of the King’s jurisdiction.”

  “Is the King’s sex slave so good that you would risk your neck for her?” The guard chuckled, sending a fiery rage through Marc.

  He straightened, suddenly realizing they were being chased down because of Dree.

  The Gren gave him a strange look, his usual brooding look turning questioning.

  Marc looked down at Dree. “You said you had your freedom.”

  She looked shocked, her pretty grays eyes opening wide. “I do. We have been ignored ever since we arrived on this planet.”

  “Someone saw her leave with us.” Trent looked straight ahead, his mouth forming a thin line. There was no way to detect what he was thinking.

  But the Gren spoke the truth. And now the King would use Dree being with them to his advantage; a woman with no rank, not even the status of one of the court’s sex slaves. Marc’s blood boiled with anger as he gripped the computer on his lap, wishing he could break it in half, wanting more than anything to direct his fury somewhere, hit something.

  “They will use her against you, Torin.” The Gren didn’t look at him, his large hands white-knuckling the controls of the carrier. He didn’t like this any better than Marc did.