Slaves of Love (11 page)

“What about these old ones?” he asked. “There are scars that have been here some time.”

Oh, God, why did he ask about those? Did her humiliation have to be so complete? Too exhausted to face the prolonged questioning she was sure he’d put her through, she answered.

“I was a selfish, unworthy daughter.” She repeated the words her father had flung at her so many times that she accepted them as unquestioned truth.

“Oh, no,” she cried, horrified at the very thought. “I told you that my father threatened dire consequences if ever I gave myself to a man.”

Realizing her current situation and what would soon happen between them, she spun her head around to stare at him, eyes wide, then quickly turned away once she’d met his fierce, angry stare. Of course, he’d be angry assuming the auctioneer had lied about her.

“I ... I am still a virgin.”

“Never mind that. You don’t think being given lashes is dire consequences? Especially from your father?”

She didn’t know what to say. What did he expect? She refused to think about what her father had threatened, what she’d seen him do to others.

“Answer me.”

His voice grated against her raw nerves, and she felt incredibly vulnerable. She couldn’t find her own voice and refused to remember the threats and the agony her father had inflicted.

His hand clamped down on her shoulder, and he urged her onto her back.

“I want you to ...” His words started off angry and sharp, but trailed off as he stared down at her, his dark eyes narrowing. She knew she’d gone pale; her cheeks felt cold and empty. Maybe he was afraid she’d be ill if he pushed her. Or could he be showing her some kind of mercy? The thought quickly dissipated as he tugged the sheet from her naked body.

“Are there scars anywhere else?” he asked, his voice flat.

Her eyelids closed for a moment, to head off a flow of tears she refused to shed. Of course, he’d be worried about having bought damaged goods.

“No.”

Her father had been careful to limit scars to her back, in case, as he’d often threatened, he ever decided to send her to the auctioneer’s block. How ironic, she thought, not for the first time, that she had wound up on that block after all, and yet her father had not been able to enjoy the profit from it.

His fingers trailed down the center of her chest, traced the lower line of her ribcage, then back up her side. Her breasts swelled to the feel of his fingers so close, and she tried to deny to herself that she wanted his large, warm hands to capture them, draw them into his mouth. She remembered his gentle touch by the lake, the way he had made her feel special and wanted. How safe she had felt in his arms. She wanted to feel that again.

“Why the hell are you looking at me like that?”

At his sharp words, her gaze jerked into focus on his face. She’d been seeing him as he’d been that first day they’d met, remembering his roguish grin, his debonair demeanor. At this moment, a scowl marred his finely featured face.

“I ...” Shaking her head, she averted her gaze, not sure what to say, not sure what he wanted to hear.

“
Shet’ra,
you’re driving me to distraction with your wide, innocent eyes and your helpless act. Remember, I know how good an actress you are. Do you think that because I showed you some compassion, I’ve forgotten why I brought you here and what I intend to do with you?”

His hands slid across her shoulders and down over her chest to cup each breast in a firm hold. He kneaded them with a pulsing rhythm. Like two pebbles tossed in a pond, waves of arousal radiated from them in mounting need. His hands slid under her breasts, supporting the weight of them, and his thumbs circled over her nipples. Jagged spikes of need shot through her, and she sucked in a ragged breath. He flung his leg over her, straddling her, holding his weight on his knees. He tore off his robe and balled it up before tossing it across the room to fall haphazardly across the settee.

He was fully aroused, and his erection fell across her belly. The heat of his huge cock burned into her flesh, and she wanted to shift and swivel her hips to capture him inside her, to let the heat of it melt the cold that had held her frozen for so long. He leaned over her and licked her nipple, and she thought she’d go insane with wanting. Involuntarily, she arched beneath him, and he pushed her down with his body, his swollen flesh so close to where she wanted it to be.

He tugged her nipple deep into his mouth and suckled, while his hand caressed her other breast, keeping it swollen with need. Switching, he warmed the other with his mouth, then slid his hands down her sides, over her hips. His fingers slid inside her panties, and she felt the slick wetness lubricate his touch. Unerringly, he found the small point of pleasure within her fold and stroked it with the tip of his finger, lightly at first, then more firmly until she could barely catch her breath.

She caught sight of his face once, in her hazy cocoon of need, and his cold, calculating look sent shivers of trepidation through her.

She clamped her eyes shut against that cruel glare.

Images flung themselves against her closed eyelids, dragging her into the agony of memory. She remembered the housekeeper, two years older than her at the time, chained, her clothes torn from her body, a scream tearing from her throat as the first man thrust into her, the sound of his flesh smacking against hers as he took his pleasure at the cost of her pain. Her screams tore through the night, haunting Shena, turning dreams to nightmares.

His cock nudged at her sensitive, womanly flesh, and ice tore through her insides. In a moment he would plunge into her, causing unbearable pain and blood.

“No!” The sound wailed from her own throat, drawing her back to now.

At his sharp expletive, her eyes snapped open and the evil memories were replaced by the reality of her current situation. Would Keern hurt her like that? Everything she’d learned about him told her he wouldn’t, even in anger, even hating her as he did.

“
Dehn’ra!
” He flung himself away from her and strode from the room, this time without looking back.

Curled into a tight ball, Shena sobbed herself to sleep. A fitful sleep full of ominous shadows and fear. She awoke with a start, slipping out of the nightmare world into the darkness of reality.

She slid from under the covers and pulled on the remnants of her gown, then moved to the window. The shimmering light of two moons caressed the courtyard below the window. Where had Keern gone? Fear started deep inside her, building up to a steady thrum. What if he’d decided he didn’t want her? He was her only link to her home. If he left her here, she would be stranded on this strange world, destined to live life as a slave. Even with the horrendous memories of her past, she suffered a gnawing desire to return home.

And she wanted to see Keern again. Even if he hated her. Even if he wanted to punish her.

Of course, Keern probably didn’t intend to take her back to Tarun. What did he intend to do with her after he exorcised his need for revenge?

She slipped to the door and slowly turned the knob, being careful not to draw attention from anyone on the other side. She heard men’s voices in the next room as she pushed the door open a crack. One was definitely Keern’s. She peered out the crack and saw Keern and another man sitting in the leather chairs, talking. Keern’s back was to her, but the dark eyes of the stranger shifted, and she thought he stared right at her. She froze, terrified she had revealed herself. Her lungs tightened painfully, and she waited for him to punish her in some way. Would he call the guards and have her dragged away, or simply banish her into the room again?

Keern glared at Jakmerah. The man was a good friend, but did he have to be so overbearing in his opinions?

“I don’t love her.”

Jakmerah made a scoffing sound. “Look, you keep saying she’s responsible for your brother’s death, but she did not wield the sword -- her father did. And you do not know what she told her father because you have not asked her.”

Keern slapped his hands on the arms of the chair and pushed himself to his feet. “She will only lie.” He paced across the room.

“Even if she did tell her father you defiled her, he must not have believed it, because she was sold to the slavers as a virgin, and it is widely known that they verify this. If he believed you stole her innocence, why would he, or anyone in his household, still believe she was pure?”

“Maybe whoever sold her tried to ...”

A vivid picture slammed across his vision of some ham-handed oaf laying his hands on her ... tearing her clothes ... touching her soft skin ... hurting her.

Just like he himself had.
Shet’ra!

“
I
did.”

Keern paced some more, rubbing his chin. “Her father is dead, so she has no family or home to go back to. Would you keep her here?”

Jakmerah nodded. “If you wish it, my friend.” He sat back in his chair, scratching his chin, a thoughtful look in his eye. “My brother is looking for a concubine to add to his collection. She would be well-treated there, and loved often. He ensures that he visits each of his women several times every month.”

The muscles in Keern’s jaw tensed painfully.

“Or perhaps I will keep her myself. I have not had a virgin in a very long time.” Jakmerah raised an eyebrow. “She is still a virgin?”

“Yes,” Keern grated, hating the thought of any man touching her, even his good friend Jakmerah.

Especially his good friend Jakmerah. Keern was sure he kept his women well satisfied, and the thought of Shena stretched out on Jak’s bed, moaning his name, begging for his hands and body to pleasure her, tore at his insides.

“Good. I could always give her to my brother afterward. I don’t need an addition to my harem, and my brother will be honored if I break her in for him.”

“Fine, we’ll talk again tomorrow.” Jakmerah took a sip of his wine. “You go ahead and sleep. I’ll let myself out after I finish my wine.”

Keern nodded and strode to the second bedroom of the suite.

Shena watched Keern disappear behind another door. As soon as the door closed, the man named Jak stood up and strolled toward her room. Her eyes widened as she realized he had to have seen her. She backed away. He pushed the door open and stared right at her.

* * * * *

Shena sat listening to the young women with fascination. They were here at Jakmerah’s bidding, to teach her the secrets of seducing a man.

“I think we need to show her,” Gheni told her companion, Dania.

Dania giggled and dropped her robe to the floor, then tugged off her bejeweled bra, revealing large, round breasts. Her areolas were as big around as daisies, and her breasts were firm. As she slipped her skirt down over her hips, Gheni shed her own clothing. Her breasts were a little smaller, and the areolas were the size of small buttercups.

“If you want to drive a man to distraction,” Gheni said, “then touch yourself. Like this.” She ran her fingers across her nipples, and they pebbled immediately. She plucked at them, and they tightened and thrust out.