Chains of Desire

An Ellora’s Cave Romantica
Publication

www.ellorascave.com

Chains of Desire

ISBN 9781419921988

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Chains of Desire Copyright © 2009 Natasha Moore

Edited by Briana St. James

Photography and cover art by Les Byerley

Electronic book Publication May 2009

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons,
living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The
characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

Hanna’s morning started out the same as every other boring
day in the palace. She quickly completed her housekeeping chores and then
searched for a way to spend the rest of her time. She wandered around in the
garden, trying to ease her restlessness with fresh air and sunshine. The other
ladies seemed happy to spend their idle time stitching and reading until the
princess needed them.

Hanna wanted more.

She was sitting on a bench, daydreaming amid the colorful
flower beds, when Princess Serena came and sat down beside her. They sat for a
moment in an easy silence before the princess spoke.

“Are you unhappy, Hanna?”

“Of course not, Your Highness.” Hanna turned to look at her
princess, forced a smile and swiftly changed the subject. “Done with your royal
obligations for today?”

“Yes, I thought I’d never get away.” She tilted her head as
she looked at Hanna. “Why do you look so sad then? Please tell me.”

Her princess was stubborn and smart. Not one to be
distracted by a feeble attempt to change the subject. Hanna sighed and tried to
make it sound thoughtful instead of melancholy. “Who could be sad in this
wonderful place?” she asked. “Beautiful sunshine, lovely flowers, good
friends.” She made her smile even wider. “I’m fine.”

“Hmm.” Serena didn’t appear convinced. “I’d like to go down
to the lake with you and the other ladies. Would you dance for us?”

Hanna’s mood lifted at the thought. “Of course, Princess.”

“Good. Let’s change our robes and get the others.”

The lake was a far distance from the castle. Hanna was quiet,
listening to the other women’s chatter as they walked along the worn pathway.
Once they’d reached the sunny meadow at the edge of the tranquil lake, only the
tips of the spires were visible. Hanna breathed a little easier.

“Hanna will dance for us today,” Serena announced.

The six women sat in a circle around Hanna on the soft
verdant grass. The sun beat down warmly on her cheeks as she raised her face to
the sky. Arms outstretched, she closed her eyes and began to move her hips in
lazy circles. The silky fabric of the skirt caressed her legs as she swayed.
Sensual music played in her head, nothing like the dark, plodding songs
preferred by the royal family of Vanya. She moved her body to rich notes that
slid sensuously from one to another. It was a melody only she could hear,
running through her mind, leading her body in the dance.

As her muscles warmed, Hanna moved more freely. Her limbs
loosened as she swayed to the music in her head. She combed her fingers through
her heavy hair and lifted it off her damp skin. She arched her back when she
dropped her hair and the curls brushed against her bottom.

Hanna had been yearning for more lately. So much more. Did
she dare hope for a life of her own, a life apart from serving the princess?
Would she ever have the chance to see other countries? Other worlds, even?
Other people than the small circle of women and men in the palace?

Would she ever have a chance to know love? To experience the
touch of a man’s hand along her skin? She poured out all her restless energy
into the dance. When a bead of sweat rolled down her chest, she could almost
imagine a masculine finger tracing the line between her breasts.

She’d never known a man’s touch. Oh certainly a hug from her
father years ago. A pat on the shoulder by the king in passing. But nothing to
match the imaginary finger along her skin. She was past the age of consent, but
when would she ever have the opportunity to meet a man? She’d been trained
since her early years to serve Princess Serena. She would have no chance for a
life of her own.

The music and the man continued to play in her mind. She
crossed her arms in front of her. Her hands became a lover’s hands, stroking
the damp skin on her upper arms. Her breasts seemed fuller and her sensitive
nipples brushed against the silky fabric that swayed with her body. She
continued to roll her hips in a rhythm that increased her restlessness. Her
woman’s spot between her legs ached with a longing she’d been experiencing more
often in the past few months. Her sex grew damp as the man in her imagination
continued to sweep his hands along her body. What would it feel like for him to
slide his hands between her legs?

Her breath caught in her throat at the thought and she
almost moaned out loud.

Suddenly the music in her head was replaced by terrified
screams.

Hanna’s eyes flew open and she froze. At least a dozen tall
men, clad in heavy black body armor, surrounded them. Where had they come from?
They held weapons as large and powerful as the warriors themselves.

The women tried to scatter, but the men grabbed them before
they could get far. A compact man with icy blue eyes stepped up to Hanna as her
heart beat frantically against her ribs. The weapon he pointed at her looked
huge and lethal. “Princess Serena. Control your women.” He glanced at the
mayhem around them. “Otherwise I cannot guarantee what my men will do to subdue
them.”

She straightened her shoulders and forced herself not to
look at her princess. Hanna’s entire body trembled. Was this truly happening?
She’d been raised to wear the red that signified Vanyan royalty and to serve as
a royal decoy, but she never thought she’d truly be called upon to serve in
this way. Hanna glanced around at the terrified women struggling in the
warriors’ grasps. When she finally looked at the princess, her eyes were wide
with fear as she met Hanna’s gaze.

“What is the meaning of this?” Hanna demanded, doing her
best to sound royal. And royally upset.

The soldier grabbed her arm, his fingers easily spanning her
flesh, and yanked her to his side. His body was hard and unyielding. He rubbed
the barrel of his weapon across her breasts and she shivered with dread. “My
men won’t hesitate to use their weapons. Wouldn’t you rather be a live slave
than a dead princess?”

Terrified screams rose around her.
Slave?
No one on
Vanya really believed the stories of slave ships that took away bad little
girls and boys.

“Captain. We must go before the screams bring their guards.”
Another soldier stepped up, taller, broader, with a deep, warm voice that sent
a different kind of shiver along her skin. She’d never seen anyone with skin as
dark as his. She looked into his eyes but saw no compassion there.

The captain rubbed the tip of his weapon against Hanna’s
cheek and she shuddered. “What do you say, Princess? Do we leave dead bodies
behind or will you and your women come quietly?”

Hanna had no idea if the stories she’d heard of sex slaves
were true. If they were, maybe she’d rather be dead. But as long as she was
alive, as long as all of them were alive, there was still hope. She nodded and
the women quieted. They had been trained to obey her as they would the
princess.

The princess! Hanna gasped as the men herded them all into a
small circle. She hadn’t protected the princess, after all. As she frantically
searched the crowd for Serena, a burst of bright light engulfed them and a
surge of pain turned everything black.

* * * * *

Jarrod stood guard outside the cell that held Princess
Serena. While the rest of the women they captured were held together in a large
cell below decks, the princess had been secured in an empty stateroom not far
from the captain’s own room. She was important, that much Jarrod knew. She was
bringing them all a great deal of money.

He didn’t know much about the planet they’d teleported to in
order to snatch the new slaves. Knew even less about princesses. But he knew
plenty about having money and not having it. His share of her price would go a
long way toward getting him off this ship and back on one of his own.

The image of the princess dancing as they surrounded the
women was burned into Jarrod’s brain. He’d not seen many women as sensual as
this one. His cock had instantly hardened, which had not been comfortable
inside the form-fitting body armor. He hadn’t been able to drag his eyes away
from her supple body, her hips swaying, her breasts gently bouncing. Her arms
had been raised to the heavens as if asking for her heart’s desire.

Her eyes had been closed, a serene expression on her face
until the screams started. He’d hated seeing the fear in her wide, green eyes.
Pain lanced his chest as he recalled his part in the capture, then he pushed
his guilt away. Slavery was the way of the universe. He knew better than most
that it was true. Slaves served a purpose in every society he’d ever encountered.

A cookboy appeared with a plate of food. “For the prisoner,”
he said.

“I’ll take it to her.” Jarrod reached for the plate, the
savory aroma reminding him he’d not had supper yet.

“Be careful,” the boy said. “She pitched the food at the
last guard who brought her a meal.”

“Then she should be hungry,” Jarrod replied with a shrug.

“She tried to brain him with the plate,” the boy went on,
obviously excited to be passing on the juicy tale. “Crock said he chained her
up good.”

Jarrod nodded, trying to imagine the slender woman attacking
the mammoth Crock. Jarrod opened the door with his handprint. After he stepped
into the room, the solid door slid closed behind him.

This was the first time he’d seen her since they’d returned
to the ship. She must have really angered Crock. He’d stripped her naked before
he chained her to the far wall of the room. Jarrod froze as he took in the
naked beauty, chained and helpless before him. The beast he kept locked inside
him struggled to break free. His cock turned to iron and lunged against the
front of his trousers.

Her eyes flashed as she watched him stand and stare at her.
Thick metal cuffs encircled her wrists and ankles. Chains attached the cuffs to
the wall behind her, her arms and legs spread wide. Her heavy breaths made her
full breasts rise and fall. His gaze dropped to the golden curls that didn’t
quite hide the pink lips between her legs.

He had to swallow before he could speak. Had to ignore the
dark needs roiling within him.

“You’ve been a bad girl, Princess.” He set the plate on the
table beside the door and then lifted the strap of his weapon over his head,
propping it up against the wall. More than one guard had been killed by his own
gun. He slowly crossed the room until he was close enough to touch her. Close
enough to smell her spicy scent. He noticed the red marks on her wrists and
shook his head. “If you’re not careful, you’ll break that soft skin.”

The chains rattled as she lunged toward him. The harsh
jangle called up desires he’d worked hard to bury deep inside. He winced as she
pulled against her unyielding restraints and the metal rubbed against her
tender skin. He admired her spirit, though he knew that would only make things
tougher for her in the long run.

“Go to hell!” she shouted, rattling the chains again.

“I’ve no doubt I will,” he replied dryly. “But not today.”
He ran a finger across the red skin on her wrist. “Today you and I get to spend
some time together.”

His body hardened further at the thought of spending his
shift in this room with this willful woman, bending her to his command. Her
breasts were full and round. They would be heavy in his hand and firm beneath
his fingers. Her legs were long and his eyes were drawn again to the soft curls
between her thighs. His cock throbbed as he imagined burying himself in her wet
heat.

But she was not here for his pleasure. He had to remember
that. He dragged his attention from her body.

When he met her fearful gaze, she looked away. He cupped her
chin in his hand and forced her to look at him. “You are a slave now. You must
accept that. Your life will never be the same again. You are a slave.”

“No!” Her voice was soft now, barely a whisper.

He dropped his hand. “Have they told you anything?” She
shook her head. Of course not. As a slave, she didn’t have the right to know a
damn thing.

Her expression was still wary as she stared at him. After
all, why should she expect him to tell her the truth? Jarrod understood that.
Understood that she’d never trust again. But she deserved to know her fate.

“We are headed to the planet Noria. Have you heard of it?”

She shook her head slowly.

There was no good way to say it, so Jarrod stated it as
plainly as possible. “You are to be the personal sex slave of King Barrus of
Noria.” She gasped and backed away from him. The damn chains clattered again
and he fought for self-control. “The other women will be sold to private buyers
or to public brothels. There is a great market for sex slaves on Noria. Your
women will bring a healthy price.” And he’d get a share of that money too.

She lunged toward him again. “You had no right to take us
from our home. We are not property to be bought and sold. Not animals to be
chained—” Her voice broke, but she jerked her chin up and glared at him. Unshed
tears glittered in her eyes.

He let his gaze lazily sweep across her body, so she
wouldn’t see how her words affected him. He’d stopped feeling guilty long ago
for what he’d had to do to survive. He couldn’t help her escape her fate, even
if he wanted to. All he could do was help her to survive.

“I hear you attacked the last guard. That’s why you’re
chained up like an animal.” He shook his head. “Not a good idea, Princess.” No
point in telling her now that most sex slaves wore cuffs and collars and chains
for the rest of their days.

He crossed the room to get the food. As he turned back to
her, he saw her quickly lick her lips. “Hungry?”

She lifted her chin. “I don’t want your food.”

He set the plate down on a table just out of her reach. “I
understand pride. But not when it’s foolish. You won’t be able to do anything
if you don’t eat.” She glanced quickly to the plate of food and then pressed
her lips together. “Believe me, Princess, if you are too weak to perform your
duties, your Master will be very angry.” Jarrod slid his hand across her throat
and let it rest there. “And it would be a bad idea to anger the man who holds
your life in his hands.”