Slaves of Love

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Authors: Opal Carew

BOOK: Slaves of Love
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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.

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