Enslaved (Brides of the Kindred Book 14) (29 page)

“I don’t mind—you know I don’t.” His eyes were
half-lidded as he studied her face. “In fact, I think we should make this form
of obeisance a regular thing.”

“What—you mean letting…letting you kiss my pussy?”
Trin shifted a little, wishing she wasn’t spread quite so wide. Her slippery
inner petals were completely exposed. It made her feel vulnerable…and
incredibly hot.

“Letting me kiss your
open
pussy,” Thrace
corrected her in a soft growl. “After all, what better way could there be for
me to show my obedience and devotion to you than to spread open your sweet, wet
cunt and worship you with my mouth?” Leaning down, he kissed her again,
nuzzling gently with his lips to press deep into her wet depths. He wasn’t
using his tongue but it was a near thing—Trin could almost feel the tip of it
caressing her throbbing clit as he gave her yet another sweet, intimate kiss.

“I…I don’t think that would be such a good idea,”
she whispered breathlessly. “You…you know how I feel about penetration, Thrace.
Even…even oral penetration.”

“Spreading your pussy lips to kiss your inner cunt
isn’t penetration—it’s devotion,” he argued softly. “Why should I not show how
very devoted I am to you, Mistress? How very much I lo—” He cleared his throat.
“How much I care for you and want to serve you?”

Trin bit her lip, wondering what he had almost
said. Surely not what she’d thought…

“It’s late, Thrace,” she said softly. “And I’m
tired…really tired.”

“Of course, Mistress.” He kissed her pussy once
more—a soft, lingering caress that made her want to moan and run her fingers
through his hair—then lifted his head. “I suppose I should tuck you in and say
goodnight then.”

“I suppose.” Trin couldn’t help feeling a little
stab of disappointment though she knew it was irrational. What had almost
happened between them?

“Well, then…” Thrace rose from his prone position
and tucked the covers around her. “Pleasant dreams.”

Trin sighed. “Are you coming to bed as well?”

“As soon as I change.” He nodded down at the
leather pants he still wore with a grimace of distaste. “Then, if you’ll permit
me, I’d like to hold you tonight, as I did last night.”

“Well…” Trin hesitated. The night before she had at
least had on a sleep dress and panties. Now she was completely naked. Should
she really let him hold her like that all night long, especially after what had
almost happened? But then she remembered how good it felt to be pressed against
his big body, to be surrounded by him. Also, it would probably look better for
whoever was watching on the blue viewscreen. “All right,” she said at last. “Hurry
and get changed though. I’m exhausted.”

“As my lady commands,” he murmured.

The desire in her body gradually faded to just an
ache. Trin’s eyelids drifted closed for a moment and she heard the sound of
rustling fabric. After a moment, the lights went out and Thrace slid under the heavy, silky
sheets beside her. He took her in his arms and Trin sighed in deep contentment
as she pillowed her head on his hard chest. Goddess, they fit together
perfectly
.
Who would have guessed that such a thing was possible? That she could find
comfort and pleasure in cuddling up with such big, strange, dangerous creature?

Yet, despite being a male, Thrace was none of those things. Or
rather, he
was
but he was also just…Thrace. He made her feel safe in
his arms…protected…
cherished.
How did he do that?
Why
did he want
to? And how did she feel about it? About
him?
Was she beginning to
care
for him?

Surely
not,
whispered a little voice in her
head.
Care for a
male?
In
that
way? That’s crazy…isn’t it?

Before she could find an answer, her eyelids
drifted shut again and sleep claimed her.

*
* * * *

Just
look at her.
Thrace
brushed a long strand of silky hair out of her
face and tucked it behind her ear. The room was mostly dark but he could see
her clearly in the faint blue glow from the viewscreen on the wall. She looked
lovely as she lay curled in his arms, lost to the world but trusting that he
would keep her safe, that he would protect her all night long.

I
will too. I’ll guard her with my life.

Emotion swelled within him and he knew it was true.
There was no denying it—he was growing to care for Trin and not in a casual
way. Havoc didn’t bond themselves to females—they went their whole lives trying
to avoid emotional entanglements with the opposite sex. That was part of their heritage
and their beliefs, as surely as Trin’s people believed it was wrong to allow
themselves to become involved with males. Yet, here they were, the two of them,
entwined in bed with her head resting on his chest and her sweet, naked body
pressed to his.

What was happening to them?

You’re
falling for her,
a little voice whispered in the back
of his brain. It wasn’t accusing or angry or guilty—it was soft and calm and
matter-of-fact. Just stating the truth.
You’re falling in love with her.

I
can’t be,
Thrace
told himself.
That’s fucking dangerous.
It
was too. Havoc didn’t avoid bonding themselves to females just because it would
change their life expectancy or because of cultural beliefs and heritage. Havoc
didn’t bond to females because once they gave themselves, gave their hearts,
there was nothing—
nothing—
they wouldn’t do or give or endure to keep
their female safe, to make her feel loved and protected. To show her how they
felt.

“Love
for a female is like a drug,”
Thrace
remembered his Sire lecturing when he was young. “
If
you even once allow it to enter your system, it will take over. It clouds your
judgment, ruins your sense of self preservation, changes the focus of your
whole life. That’s why we stay away from females, son, except for brief
encounters. It fucks up your entire existence, falling in love. Don’t let it
happen to you.”

Thrace
had promised he wouldn’t and he had kept his word
faithfully for years…up until now.
I should get up right now,
he told
himself.
Ought to just leave. There’s nothing keeping me here—no pain
collar. No one could stop me. I could find a transport shuttle out of here and
go back to The Empress, find Solar and get my old life back. I should just go.

But looking down at the girl curled in his arms, he
knew he couldn’t. If love was a drug, it had already entered his system. He
couldn’t help how he felt, couldn’t stop the chemical reaction in his brain.
Couldn’t control the impulses he felt to protect and cherish her, to hold her
for as long as he could…even though he knew she didn’t feel the same way.

She
never will, either,
he thought,
stroking her cheek. Trin sighed in her sleep and turned toward his touch. Thrace
felt like a fist was squeezing his heart.
She’ll never allow herself to feel
for a male. And the very idea of making love, of allowing any kind of
penetration from me, is repugnant to her. She said it herself—she feels the
same way about being penetrated that I do.

The thought made him shudder and unquiet memories
tried to rise to the surface of his mind. Thrace pushed them down ruthlessly.
He’d confronted enough of his past already, especially when he’d sucked in the
bubble of nightmare vapor earlier that night. The point was, he understood why
Trin didn’t want to be penetrated. And also why she could never feel for him
the way he was beginning to feel for her.

Doesn’t
matter though,
he thought, settling her more
closely against him.
I still feel it, even if she doesn’t. I can’t help
it—I’m fucking lost.

The thought should have depressed him but he
couldn’t make himself be too upset—not when he was holding her close in his
arms. There was nothing he could do about it tonight. Nothing but hold her
while he still could. With a sigh, he let his eyes drift closed…

After a moment, the glow of the viewscreen showed
only two people sleeping deeply in each other’s arms—two bodies entwined, the
smaller one curled against the larger for comfort and warmth. The soft hush of
breathing was the only sound.

Then, the cool blue glow of the viewscreen turned
an ominous pulsing red and low male laughter rumbled through its speakers. The
black dots in the center of each bedpost irised open, revealing four holes like
hungry mouths. A soft, insidious hissing sound filled the air and a heavy black
vapor poured out and drifted down. It caressed the faces of the two sleepers,
stroking their helpless visages with oily tentacles.

Trin sniffed a tiny amount of the vapor and made a
face. She curled towards Thrace’s
broad chest, her hair falling over her face, shielding her from inhaling any
more the vapor. But the huge Havoc was sleeping on his back. A faint frown
creased his face as the oily, black tentacles caressed his cheek. He drew in a
deep, startled breath and the vapor entered his mouth and nose eagerly, almost
as if it had been waiting for just such an opportunity.

The nightmare began…

Chapter
Twenty-one

Trin looked around herself, frowning. Where was
she? There were rows of slaves, kneeling on display pillars and eager slaves
walking around, crying their wares. Prospective buyers browsed the merchandise
while the security Crangs watched from the sidelines. Recognition struck
her—somehow she was back to the Flesh Bazaar, where she had first found Thrace.

Why
am I back here? I found the one I wanted. The only one I’ll ever want. So why
am I…?

The question died before she could answer it as
something caught her attention. It was Thrace…at
least she
thought
it was Thrace.

But something was different about him. He looked
younger—
much
younger—only an adolescent.

Adolescent Thrace
was tall and gangly and not nearly as muscular as the Thrace she knew. But his hair was
the same inky blue-black and his eyes were the same startling silver-blue.

He was up on an auction block.

Trin had seen one or two of these private auctions.
They were held for only the rarest and most desirable slaves and buyers had to
pay a hefty fee to even join the auction in the first place. Several of them
were bidding now, standing in front of the raised platform where the young Thrace
was displayed, calling out prices, trying to win him as though he was a rare
pet they wanted for their private zoo.

Once, Trin would have thought the same thing—that a
male had no more feelings than a beast. But now her heart went out to the young
Thrace.
He stood proudly, his chin raised, his big hands curled into fists at his
sides. He didn’t make a sound, even when the auctioneer, a Catara from the
Dengba system, raised the scanty cloth he wore wrapped around his waist and
displayed the size of his shaft.

“A tasty young mmmorsel, my lords and ladies,” the
auctioneer purred, his pointed ears swiveling to catch the various bids. “And
mmmost well endowed, as you can see. Now…what ammm I bid?”

“Ten thousand!” a female who was certainly a
mistress from Yonnie Six exclaimed.

“Twenty!” shouted another.

“Twenty once…twenty twice…do I hear thirty thousand
credits?” The Catara auctioneer’s long furry tail lashed from side to side with
excitement.

“Thirty thousand,” the first mistress declared.

“Thirty-five. I
must
have him for my private
collection!” The second mistress glared at her.

“Thirty-eight and not a credit more,” declared the
first.

“Thirty-eight,” the auctioneer purred. “Going
once…going twice…”

“Fifty thousand credits.” The voice belonged to a
medium
sized male with thinning gray hair and rings on every finger. His rich robes of
purple halla-cloth were pulled tight over his round belly and there was a
hungry glitter in his small, piggy eyes that made Trin fear for the adolescent Thrace.

Fifty thousand—that’s what I paid for him.
An exorbitant fee for an ordinary slave.
But Thrace was anything but ordinary.
Trin could see why he had inspired such a high price…twice.

“Sold!
To the Master from Gemma!” the Catara auctioneer shouted when no one else
countered the bid.

Suddenly,
there was a commotion a few rows down.

“No!”
A large Havoc male, the same size Thrace was now, came charging
through the crowd, his silver-blue eyes burning. He had his hands bound behind
his back but he didn’t let that stop him. “No, you male-raping bastard,” he
shouted at the surprised master from Gemma who had just won the auction. “You
shall not have him! Not my only son!”

It
looked to Trin like he was going to bowl the middle aged, gray haired master
right over. But then the master surprised everyone by pulling a blaster from the
folds of his purple robes and firing it point-blank at the other male’s chest.

The
shot stopped the angry Havoc in his tracks. He halted at once and looked down,
a look of surprise on his face as he viewed the gaping, bloody hole in his
chest. Then he fell to his knees, swayed a moment more…and crumpled to the
ground.

“No!”
The howl of pure agony came from the young Thrace. His silver-blue eyes were
filled with shock and disbelief. “No, Father…
please!”
he begged as the security Crangs dragged the bloody corpse
away.

“Sir,”
began the slaver who had been rushing after the older Havoc. “I appreciate that
you felt you were being attacked but that slave was a valuable piece of
merchandize and I must protest—”

“Here.”
The Master from Gemma threw a jingling bag of credit-coins at the slaver’s
feet. “For your trouble. I can’t stand mouthy slaves.”

The
slaver picked up the bag and hefted it expertly in one many-fingered hand. At
once his expression changed from anger to avarice.

“A
fair price. Most kind, Master.”

“Take
it and go.” The Master turned his greedy gaze on Thrace once more. “I have a new
slave to attend to…”

Trin
watched in horror as Thrace
was dragged away, still looking over his shoulder and shouting for his
father…begging him to get up…to not be dead…to come back.

Oh Thrace, I’m so sorry…so terribly
sorry…

The
scene was horrible—it made Trin feel like her heart was being twisted in a
spiked glove. She wished she could do something but she was frozen in place,
unable to move or go after the young Thrace. Unable to help him in any
way or do anything but watch.

I don’t want to watch this! Please, just
let me go…

But
she couldn’t go and the worst was yet to come.

The
scene shifted to the young Thrace
in a bedchamber wearing only a thick leather belt with a few scraps of fabric
hanging from it for cover. He had his arms tied behind his back and he was
wearing a cruel black pain collar with silver agony conducting studs.

Trin
watched, her heart beating in her throat. What was happening now? At least the
young Havoc seemed to be all alone. Maybe he would be all right. Maybe…just
then the gray haired master walked in.

“Are
you ready?” he demanded, with no preamble. He came to stand before Thrace and
glared up at him. “Ready to say the words? Ready to kneel before me and accept
your fate as a good slave should?”

“Never.”
Thrace
raised his chin, looking coolly down his nose at the master. Though he had
obviously yet to reach his full size, he was still bigger than he had been in
the auction scene. Clearly some months or maybe even a cycle had passed.
“Never,” he said again, glaring boldly at the other male. “I’ll never bow to
you. Never acknowledge you as my master.”

“Bite
your tongue, boy.” The master glared at him. “Or else maybe I should cut it
out. I’d do it without a second’s hesitation if it didn’t feel so good wrapped
around my shaft.”

“You’ve
never had me willingly and you never will,” Thrace growled. “You have to use
the force gag every time because if you don’t you know I’ll bite that tiny,
shriveled piece of meat you call a shaft in two and spit it out.”

The
master’s face grew scarlet with rage.

“You
dare!” he roared, advancing on Thrace.
“You dare to speak so to your master when you ought to be kneeling before me
instead? When you ought to be taking the oath of fealty, swearing to be mine
forever?”

“I’ll
never be yours,” Thrace
spat. “You might own my body but you cannot own my soul. You killed my sire and
someday I will repay the favor.”

“You
mouthy little bastard.” The master’s face was nearly puce now. “Take back those
words and swear the oath of fealty to me
now
or I swear by all the Gods I’ll make you sorry.”

“I’m
already sorry,” Thrace
snarled. “Sorry you’re too much of a coward to let me loose before you come at
me. Come on, old man—give me a fair fight.”

“This
is your last chance.” There was a note of warning in the gray haired master’s
voice that sent a shiver down Trin’s spine. She wanted to tell Thrace
that he ought to curb his tongue. He was tied up…helpless and wearing a pain
collar. He shouldn’t provoke the male who held the remote.

“Your
last
chance,” the master repeated.
“I’ve been waiting for you…waiting for months for you to develop the proper
feelings of obedience and love towards me. Waiting to take you until you spoke
your oath to me. But I swear to you, boy, tonight the waiting ends. Swear your
oath to me and I will take you gently. Do not and I will take you just the
same…but not nearly as tenderly as I had planned.”

“You
think I fear you?” Thrace
sneered. “I fear no male. I am Havoc!”

“It
is not your fear that I seek—I want your love and loyalty. But if you will not
give them freely, I will
take
them.
Guards!”

Four
huge, muscular males wearing gleaming gold armor came forward, carrying a
large, X-shaped piece of equipment. They turned Thrace to face the X and untied his
arms from behind his back. Then they bound them above his head instead,
fastening his wrists with iron cuffs to either side of the X shaped device.
They manacled his legs too, bracing them far apart at the bottom corners of the
X—chaining him down so he couldn’t move.

Trin
bit her lip as she watched. Though he struggled and fought will all his might,
the young Thrace
could not break free. He might have had a chance if he was the Thrace
she knew now, the big, powerful male that had fought his way free of the
Demon’s Eye with no more than a blaster and a bad attitude. But he was still
young in this scene—he hadn’t reached his full growth and potential. Which made
what happened next even harder to watch.

“Say
it! Say the words!” The gray haired master stepped up behind him and pulled his
purple robes to one side, revealing a surprisingly large shaft. Not as large as
Thrace’s
own but enough to cause serious damage, Trin was sure.

“Don’t!”
she shouted. “Leave him alone, you bastard!” But neither the master or Thrace
seemed to hear or see her. As before she was frozen in place, unable to help,
unable to be anything but a silent, invisible observer.

The
master grabbed Thrace’s
lean hips and pressed forward, entering him. Violating him.

“I will belong to you body and soul—
say it!”
he snarled as he thrust in.

“Never!” Young Thrace’s face was a trembling mask
of pain and hatred, his hands clenched into fists as he fought to keep the
tears standing in his silver-blue eyes from falling.

“I will protect you with my life, shield you from
harm in times of danger, and pleasure you in times of peace—
say it!”
The
gray haired master thrust again. “To the last drop of my blood, I am yours. Say
it, Gods damn you—
Say It!
”

Those
words!
Trin thought wonderingly.
Those
are the words he said to me when I put the pain collar on him. Is this how he
knew them? Was he a slave after all? But how? And where?

“Say you love me! I’ll
make
you love me!”
the master raved. Reaching around he grasped the other male’s shaft in his hand
and began to pump it in time with his strokes. “You love it…you know you love
it,” he hissed.

“Never.” The young Thrace’s eyes were closed now, his
jaw clenched as silent tears rolled down his face. “I’d rather die.
Never.”

Trin found that she was crying too.

“No—no leave him alone! Please, leave him alone!
Stop!” She shouted until her throat was raw, screaming at the horrible sight
going on before her, her hands clenched into fists and tears pouring down her
cheeks. “Stop it!
Stop it!”

“Stop what? Trin wake up—what’s going on?” The deep
familiar voice in her ear seemed to pull her out of the nightmare she had
somehow entered.

She opened her eyes to find she was curled against Thrace’s
muscular side, her hands balled into fists and her breath coming in short,
heaving gasps.

“Th-thrace? Is that you?” She reached up to touch
his cheek.

“Yeah, baby, it’s me. What’s wrong? Did you have a
bad dream?” He looked at her with obvious concern. “You were yelling for
someone to stop doing something.”

“I…was?” Trin frowned, trying to recapture the
details of the nightmare. Whatever it was, it had been bad—terrible. But now
that she was awake it was gone except for a few wisps.

“Yeah, you were. And…you’re crying.” He cupped her
face and rubbed his thumb gently over her cheek.

“I am?” Trin touched her fingers to her other cheek
and they came away wet. What had she dreamed that affected her so deeply?
It
had to do with Thrace
somehow…something bad happening to him. But what?

She couldn’t answer the question. The dream was
gone. Not that she wanted it back if it was that upsetting.

“What were you dreaming? Do you remember?” Thrace
asked softly. “I only ask because my people believe there can be significance
in dreams.”

“I don’t know. It was so
vivid
but now it’s just…gone.”
She shrugged and swiped at her eyes. “Silly, huh?”