Princess SOS (10 page)

His fingers drag down my cheek then he’s nudging my chin up. I tip back my head, obeying him. I should protest, a part of me knows I should put up some kind of fight. To give in so easily will just encourage him to continue to believe he can take liberties with me.
It just feels so damn good.

He rinses my hair out. Cupfuls of warm water flow over me, down my shoulders, down my back. His fingers comb through my hair, working out the kinks and knots.

He’s taking care of me.
The way he’s handling me with his slow, tender movements I feel special, maybe even appreciated. 

I peek my eye open and I see him gazing down affectionately at me.
How can someone so scary be so soft? What have I done to deserve this?

“Mine,” he growls softly.

I shiver and wish he hadn’t said that. He totally just ruined the moment.

So far he hasn’t touched my body, only my hair and face. His hands come down on my shoulders and I instantly tense.

This is it
, I think. The air is fairly sizzling now with electricity. He’s naked, dripping wet naked. His purple skin gleams, slick and glistening. He’s so…massive. I’m naked, and now I’m clean. Did he wash me to have his way with me?

Beast’s fingers squeeze my shoulders tenderly and he steps away from me.

Seriously?

He waves his hand at the bottles, as if encouraging me to use them, then turns from me and steps out of the pool. I watch him, watch the muscles in his cheeks flex as he rises from the water.   He circles around the edge of the pool, walking stiffly and as far away from me as he can. My eyes follow him every step of the way. I’m frozen with disbelief.

Beast walks to the row of shower stalls in the back, opens a door, and disappears.

That’s it? He washes my hair and then takes off?
I still can’t believe it. I don’t know what to make of this and I don’t know how long I have before he returns.

My first thought is to get out of the pool and sneak off to do some exploring. But it’s doubtful I’ll have enough time to accomplish anything worth accomplishing. For all I know he’s gone to fetch something and is coming right back. No, it's better that for now, I do what he asks. I need to build trust with him, so when the time is right, I can take advantage of it.

This is a good sign. This is a sign that he’s building some trust with me. But why do I feel like I was just rejected?

I drift over to the assortment of bottles and pick through them. I choose a scent that reminds me of the roses back home and begin to wash myself. I keep an eye out for Beast, expecting him to return at any moment. I keep fearing he’ll catch me washing my more private areas, such as my breasts or between my legs, but thankfully, he never shows.

I grow tired of standing while waiting for him to come back. I wade over to the steps, take a seat on the lowest one and lean back. My legs stretch out before me, and I close my eyes as I try to relax.

Just minutes ago, I couldn’t have felt more relaxed. The way he touched me, massaged me, and took care of me, I never felt more cherished. And that’s exactly it, isn’t it? It felt like he cared for me, like I was important to him.

But why? Why did he do it? He forced me into the bath, knowing I wasn’t comfortable with it, knowing that I didn’t want it, just to wash my hair? How absurd is that? He could have done anything to me. He’s stronger than me, can easily overpower me, he’d have little trouble forcing himself on me….
Don’t go there, Ameia.

I completely dropped my guard as soon as his fingers touched my head. I gave in. Whatever fears or trepidations I have, he kneaded right out of me.
When he touches me, it’s like I become a different person.
A person without a brain, clearly.

The tile beneath my head begins to vibrate. I open my eyes to see him approaching me. He’s dressed in boots, black pants, and black shirt. In his arms, he’s holding a big, fluffy white thing. I can’t think of a way to get out of the water without flashing him all my naked bits.

He walks right up to me and snaps out the white fluffy thing. It’s a white robe and he's holding it out for me to slip myself in. One arm crosses over my breasts as I sit up and then get to my feet. He steps up to me and drapes the robe over my shoulders. While I wiggle my arms into the sleeves, he let’s go, then from behind, he wraps the robe snuggly around me and ties the belt at my hip.

There he goes again, taking care of me. Going above and beyond to give me more than I need, pampering me.
Like a bossy servant.
Perhaps he’s only doing it to try and win my affections? Just as I’m attempting to build trust with him…

“Thank you,” I say sincerely, even though I’m wary of his motives.

He nods his head and without asking, takes me by the hand. It’s then that I notice that instead of being warmed by his touch, like before, I’m chilled by his clammy palm and fingers.

“Oh, you’re cold,” I shiver.

He frowns and drops my hand.

Did he take a cold shower or something?

Either way, I enjoy following him as he leads me to the mess hall without being forced to hold his hand.

After preparing and feeding me another tasty meal of mystery meat and strange fruit, my purple alien captor leads me back to my room and locks me in. I stretch out on the bed, still engulfed in my soft, fluffy robe. There’s too much softness, too much fluffiness. I’m clean, fed, and relaxed. I sleep deeply and dream.

It’s my 18th birthday party. It feels as if half the planet is squeezed inside the palace ballroom. It’s truly a crush in every sense of the word.

I need to get away from the watchful eyes and whispered rumors. I can’t handle crowds or large groups of strangers. I can’t handle all the attention. There are too many people and not enough air or space. I’m suffocating in the press of bodies.

All night the focus has been centered on me. The weight of their judgment is smothering me. I’m cracking. I’m not worthy in their eyes. Everywhere I look, someone is pointing at me. Everywhere, someone is laughing.

My heart is racing, I’m cold and sweaty. I feel like I can’t breathe. I don’t know where my guards are, they’ve disappeared. I lost them somewhere in the crush, and now there’s no one to help me.

Someone grabs me by the arm and drags me through the crowd. For some reason I can’t see them, they’re simply a force propelling me forward. The crowd parts for us even as they continue laughing at me. It’s not until my captor hauls me up on the podium in the center of the ballroom that I realize it’s my father, the King.

The King stands beside me, dressed in his finest finery. He wears his long purple cape over his golden silk suit. His silver beard has been brushed and braided in a weave over his chin. A gold and diamond encrusted crown engraved with the shapes of stars encircling our planet is poised perfectly on his bald head.

The crowd falls silent, waiting for the King to speak. My father’s voice booms but his words don’t make any sense. I can’t understand what he’s saying. He keeps speaking and the crowd seems to be following. Then in horror, it dawns on me. He’s speaking in grunts and growls. He’s speaking like Beast.

As if I summoned him just by thinking of him, Beast appears. He’s wet, naked, and heading straight for me. He climbs the podium and takes my hand. I look down and see I’m also wet and naked as he takes his place beside me.

The crowd erupts in cheers. People start hugging each other and lifting their glasses as if they’re toasting us. My father turns to me and smiles. On his face, all I can see is his natural love and affection for me. 

“Mine,” Beast growls and lifts my hand in the air as if we’re sharing a victory.

The crowd goes wild, then they all start to roar, “Your’s! Your’s! Your’s!”

I look to the crowd and then back to my father for help, but now my father is also chanting. “Your’s! Your’s! Your’s!”

I wake up vowing to never again fall asleep.

***

I’m going stir crazy in the room. After tossing and turning on the bed, I couldn’t go back to sleep. I didn’t want to go back to sleep.

Hours have crept by. I’ve explored every inch of this room and have found absolutely nothing of interest. I’ve run my fingers along the walls, checked under the mattress, and even scrutinized the ceiling. If there’s anything to be found, I’m not going to find it.

The panel of buttons on the wall leaves me even more frustrated. After pushing every single button, in as many combinations that I could think of, nothing happens. I know, that at the very least, it should be able to open the closet. He must have disabled it, or it has some crazy long sequence I’ll never be able to guess.

Out of options, I try my hand at the voice commands. I can remember the general rhythm of the words he spoke and do my best to recreate it. I grumble and growl until my throat is raw before giving up. Even to my own ears, I know I’m missing all the nuances.

The only way I’m getting out of this room is if he lets me out.

I pace in front of the door, wondering where Beast is. Time drags on.
When is he going to return? I need to get out. What does he do when he’s not with me? Is he out hunting? Or is he up to something else?

I hope and pray he’s not up to anything dangerous. If anything happens to him, I’ll be stuck in here. I’ll die in here. Alone.

It feels like it takes forever before he finally comes for me, though it’s probably only been an hour or so since I woke up. I spend the time not only trapped in the room but trapped inside my thoughts.

How long have I’ve been in this ship? How many days have passed? If someone from home does show up, I’ll never know.

When the door drops, I can’t believe I’m actually happy to see him. I was beginning to make myself sick with worry. And I had an unexplainable achy feeling in the pit of my stomach that disappears as soon as my eyes touch him.

He walks in carrying a stack of clothing topped with a pair of boots.

“Are those for me?” I ask.

He nods, walks up to me, and thrusts out the stack. Gratefully, I accept them. He takes a step back, staring at me. I look down at the clothing, then back up to him.

After a minute passes, I ask, “Do you want me to get dressed?”

Beast nods.

I frown, “I need some privacy…”

I don’t care how many times he’s already seen me naked. I’m so not going willingly expose myself in front of him.

He sighs and grumbles as he walks out the door. I shake off the robe and leave it on the bed, for later. I pull the black shirt over my head then stuff myself inside the tight black pants. Just as I suspected, he walks back in only a second later. I button the pants then sit on the edge of the bed to put the socks and boots on.

Everything fits snugly. It’s not too tight, comfort wise, but modesty-wise, without undergarments, I’m out of luck. I suppose I could ask him for a brassiere but… how do I even ask that? Does he even know what one is? What if he’s used to the females from his planet being naked all the time? I don’t even want to go there, especially after our last encounter. He forced himself on me, to wash my hair. Things with him can get very weird, very quick.

“Are we going somewhere?” I ask, hopeful.

I stand from the bed, smooth my hands down my new outfit and smile. It feels good to be completely covered for once. I feel dressed to take on the world.

He nods his head and the corners of his lips curve into a smile. So far, we’re off to a good start. Until he holds out his hand.

I frown at his hand. I don’t want to touch him.
Why can’t he just let me follow him?

My hesitation turns his smile into a frown.

Dammit, the last thing I want to do right now is make him mad. What if he changes his mind and decides to leave me here?

At that thought, I practically jump forward and slap my hand against his.

“Shall we?” I close my fingers around him and try to ignore the zap that travels up my arm.

If I knew where we were going, I’d pull him out of the room and drag him down the hall myself. As it is, I have to wait for him to lead the way.

His frown deepens and his brow knits. I’m sure my sudden change of heart confuses him. Then he shrugs and leads me out of the room.

My heart races with excitement as we pass the bathing facilities, turn around the corner, then pass the mess hall. I’m so eager to get out of this ship, to have sky above me and fresh air all around me, I’m able to keep pace with him. His long, brisk stride gives me no trouble at all.

We make a stop at a supply room where he lets go of my hand and outfits me with a water bladder that I wear like a backpack on my back. He outfits himself in what I’m assuming is a utility belt. Then, with a voice command, he opens up a locked locker.

He has guns! He has weapons! He produces two small guns from the locker, inspects them, and then straps them securely to his belt. Before I can get a better, closer look at all the stuff he has stored in the locker, he slams it shut and walks up to a shelf loaded with ammo. While he loads himself up, I take a better look around.

The entire supply room is bursting with goodies I’m itching to get my hands on. Everything one would need to survive in an unforgiving harsh environment seems to be right here. There are knives displayed on the wall and shelves covered in tools, emergency medical kits, portable lights, and ration bars. There are giant jugs of crystal clear water stacked and piled up in the corners.

Why haven’t I see him with any of this stuff before?

I’m eyeing the knives on the wall, there’s one with a wicked curve to its blade and sharp serrated teeth. It’s calling me, it’s practically crooning my name. I begin to reach for the knife. I rise up on my tiptoes, the tips of my fingers brush across the hilt.

I freeze when I hear Beast growl behind me.

His hands come down on my shoulders and I lower back down.

“What, don’t you trust me?” I ask as I tip my head back and peer up at him through my lashes.

It was more of a joke, really. If I were him, I sure as hell wouldn’t trust me. He’s keeping me here, with him, totally against my will. He has all the power, all the control. Stick a weapon in my hands and all that could change in a flash.

He seems to be conflicted by my question, though. His eyes narrow thoughtfully, then he reaches over my shoulder and plucks the knife from the wall.

I freeze as he pulls the knife back. He lifts the knife over my head and turns the blade as he admires its different gleaming angles. His thumb pricks the tip, then he takes the blade between his fingers and flips the hilt towards me.

He’s just testing me…

I meet his eyes over the blade. His brows quirk as if to ask me what am I waiting for…

“I can take it?” I ask.

I’m not touching the knife unless I know I have his permission. After all, I wouldn’t want him to get the wrong impression in this situation and end me right here, right now.

He nods.

Still, my hand is trembling as I reach out and grab the hilt. I just can’t believe he’s actually giving me a weapon. It still feels like a test, like this whole thing is some trick question, and I’m about to fail.

My fingers wrap around the hilt and he let’s go. He takes a step back and I spin to face him, knife securely in hand.

This is it. He’s standing right there, completely vulnerable.
Now, I have the means to end him.
If I lunge forward, I can bury this knife deep in his chest. He may be alien, but I know for a fact that just like me, he’s made up of flesh and bone.

I know he knows what I’m thinking. Our eyes meet and yet he still just stands there, leaving himself completely open, waiting for me to make a move.

I know if I kill him now, this ship is mine. I probably won’t be able to get back inside the room I was sleeping in, or back inside the bathing facilities, but I’ll have all of the supplies in this storage room to myself. I could hold out for a year or more on this stuff. I could use something to break down the front door. All I would have to do is find a means to keep an eye out for rescue.

But does he deserve to die? Do I even have the guts to do it?

What has he done to me but terrify me? He’s protected me, clothed me, and fed me… all against my will.

I take a deep, shuddering breath. The moment is passing. I failed to take advantage of it. I point the knife down. I’m not necessarily a violent person. Just thinking about killing him has left me feeling sick to the stomach. Until he does something that actually harms me, I won’t try to harm him. There are other ways, nonviolent ways, to take back my freedom. I’ll just have to figure it out.

Beast huffs, the sound pulls me out of my thoughts. The knife feels awkward in my hand now. I fidget with it, not sure what to do with it. He turns his back on me
. If that isn’t a sign of trust, I don’t know what is.
He moves to a shelf, grabs up a belt and then tosses it to me. I catch the belt with my free hand.

I tell him, “Thank you,” set my knife down, and secure the belt around my waist. After picking the knife back up, I sheathe it at my right hip.

He walks up to the door, I half expect him to keep on walking. He stops, however, and turns back around. He holds out his hand.

Did I pass the test?
I wonder as I tentatively approach him and lay my hand on his. I feel guilty for even considering killing him. I mean, he’s done so much for me. I’m sure if we could actually communicate with words, he’d have a perfectly good reason for all this….

Who am I kidding? It’s just a matter of time before the guy eats me.

His fingers curl around me, I look up. A smile is beginning to form on his lips.

“So, where are we going?” I ask.

He lifts my hand to his face and then kisses it. As soon as his lips make contact with my skin, I feel like someone just punched me in the gut. All the air whooshes out of me. I sway on my feet. Not again. I groan inwardly as electric sensations flow through me and pulse between my thighs. Somehow, I think he’s doing this on purpose.
Why does it only happen some of the time and not others?