Chapter Three
Marla’s screams filled the room, echoing in the hallway. She didn’t stop screaming. Her terror and shock would take a while to ebb, but at the moment, Trev could do nothing about that. She wasn’t harmed. That was all that mattered. And if the gods agreed, she was now his.
There was just a slight matter to deal with first.
The Bortan was almost too heavy to drag. But Trev wouldn’t allow his massacred body to be found inside Marla’s property. Better he be discovered later by his own kind in the open. Killed in battle. The Bortan wouldn’t be able to mark Marla for revenge that way.
“You can’t leave me here.” Marla sounded panicky. “Where are you going?”
She continued to call out to him, while he dragged the dead Bortan outside, toward the trees. Smoke ran thick through the countryside, the main house no more than a smoldering foundation from what he could tell. The flames had subsided, the ground a red glow under the black haze.
A bloody path, where he’d dragged the Bortan out of the house, led his way back to Marla.
“I have no intentions of leaving you.” He glanced around the room, noticing a sink, and grateful that it appeared to still be in working order.
“What are you doing?” She sounded calmer, although he heard the worry in her voice. She didn’t trust him.
“You’ve got that Bortan’s blood splattered all over you.” He opened cabinets, and pulled out several drawers until he found what he was looking for. “We can’t leave here with you looking like that.”
“Fine. Untie me. I can clean up.”
He made sure his laser was ready to fire, not convinced they would be left undisturbed for long. But for the moment they were alone, and he had every intention of taking advantage of that fact. He let water run over a washcloth before wringing it out. For too long he had waited for this moment. Blood surged to his cock, the pain unbearable. But he wasn’t a boy anymore. Trev knew how to restrain himself. No matter if his cock swelled with enough intensity to make it hard to think straight.
“I’ve just saved you from a fate worse than death.” He watched her eyes widen when she noticed the dampened cloth in his hand. “I do believe I deserve the honors.”
“You’re no better than the Bortan, Trev of Kopah.” She turned her head toward the wall, refusing to look at him.
“Oh?” He had a feeling he would enjoy this. “I’m sure if I leave you here long enough, more Bortan will show up.”
She turned her head fast enough that silky, long white strands of hair fell over her face. He’d never known hair to glide over his fingers like hers did. She glared at him, anger turning her elegant cheekbones crimson, while he moved her hair away from her face.
“Don’t you dare leave me tied up like this.”
He couldn’t keep from smiling. She knew damned well he wouldn’t leave her.
She shivered when he ran the wet cloth over her arm, washing the blood splatters from her skin.
“Your tattoos are incredible.” He knew his lust came through in the huskiness of his voice, but watching her nipples harden into light brown pebbles made his cock burn with need. She didn’t answer. He forced his attention to her face, running the cloth over her thin neck, under her strong jawline. Her eyes remained shut, those long lashes spreading elegantly over her flushed cheeks.
This was harder to do than he thought. His cock bulged against his pants, while blood rushed through him, raising his body temperature. He was almost dizzy from the incredible urge to fuck that seized him. He needed fresh air. He needed Marla.
And she seemed to have tuned him out, keeping her eyes closed, her hands relaxed against the bindings that held her. Her nipples puckered invitingly, driving him mad. He wanted to believe that was a telltale sign that his touch aroused her, but couldn’t deny the moisture of the cloth might simply be making her cold. That thought didn’t sit well with him. Marla had to know he cared about her. He’d dreamed of her too many nights since his youth. Her beauty, her strength, her ability to keep her dignity tied like a slave, every bit of her appealed to him.
“Am I so repulsive?” He grabbed a fresh cloth, making sure the water was warmer this time.
No woman had ever denied him before. Most of them begged for his attention. Yet none of them had ever really captured his attention. Not like Marla did. Her refusal to react to his attention burned through him like a fever leaving a foul taste. It was unacceptable. She had to see his craving for her, know he wished to cherish her. And she would admit it.
She swallowed, sucked in her lower lip, but her eyes remained closed, and she kept quiet.
This time he took the cloth, almost hot from the water, and rubbed her tummy. She gasped, making his brain boil, heat surging through him. His hands shook in his effort to control himself. If he wasn’t careful, he would make a fool out of himself, coming in his pants.
Her tummy and legs weren’t tattooed. The intricate vines and flower pattern twisted around her arms, over her shoulders, criss-crossing over her breasts, and flowing over her hips to her backside. Most women of fine culture were adorned with the intricate ink drawings in their skin. But Marla made the drawings a work of art.
“Do you know how beautiful you are?” he barely whispered.
Talking distracted him from the demands his body made on his brain, but he needed the distraction to stay focused. If he didn’t, he would rape her. He wouldn’t rape her, though. He needed her to want him as badly as he wanted her. If she denied him, he wouldn’t be able to live through it.
But she smiled. He was sure of it. Her lips perked upwards just enough to show she hadn’t completely tuned him out.
The blood splatters were gone from her body, but he rinsed one more cloth, making the water almost hot. Returning to stand close enough to feel her breath, he ran the damp cloth over her breast.
“Trev.” She cried out his name so beautifully, her body convulsing, her hands balling into fists.
He brushed the cloth over her other breast. She inhaled, her breath coming in gasps. If he didn’t give his cock some room in his pants, he knew he would do permanent damage to the most cherished part of his body.
But he wouldn’t take her by force. She wanted him, and if he played this right, she would admit to her desires. He ran his finger over her nipple, not able to stop himself. Thoughts of how to persuade her flowed through him, but all were matters of seduction. Any woman would succumb to her cravings if persuaded well enough. But he wanted Marla to be glad she had fucked him after the act, and not regret it.
“Are you still scared?” He wanted to know her thoughts, had to know what stirred beyond those fluttering eyelashes, her quivering breaths.
She met his gaze, those gray eyes of hers swarming with emotion. Her mouth opened to speak, but then she closed it again, her lips puckering into a delightful pout. What he wouldn’t do to experience those full lips wrapped around his cock.
“Will you hurt me?” He almost didn’t hear her ask, she spoke so quietly.
He shook his head, surprised by the question. “No.” If he had anything to say about it, she would never experience pain again.
“Then I’m not scared of you.” Her lashes fluttered over those beautiful eyes, her brief moment of acknowledging him passing.
He wanted to tell her that both of their families were dead, that all treaties and laws preventing them from being together no longer existed. All that was left were the two of them, free to create their own path. But telling her these things would manipulate her decisions. Marla had to decide she wanted him.
The washcloth landed in the sink. He didn’t want it preventing him from touching her any longer. Her skin was like silk, decorated with such rich colors. He wanted to look at every part of her all at once, explore all she had to offer with one touch. Blood raced through him, just as his thoughts did, his craving for her intensifying the longer he stood in front of her.
“The Bortan tasted you.” Her hips quivered while he focused on her shaved pussy. “I saw what he did to you.”
Her breaths became longer, inhaling deeply. She anticipated what he would do. There was no panic on her expression. Even though her eyes remained closed, once again, he no longer believed she blocked him out.
Trev knelt, inhaling the thick scent of her cream. The aroma made him mad with need. Pre-cum soaked the tip of his cock and it took more strength than he knew he possessed to move slowly. Her legs trembled, spread, unable to close while bound to the wall, or prevent him from touching her, tasting her.
“I promise you, no Bortan will ever touch you here again.” He traced his finger along the opening of her cunt, moisture seeping from her small hole, soaking his finger.
Her leg muscles became more defined, her body tightening, while her hips thrust toward him. This is where he wanted her, craving his touch, doing everything in her power to encourage him to continue.
He slid his finger through her heat, humidity scorching his skin. Her pussy tightened around him, her entrance more narrow than he’d anticipated. Maybe the rumors of all the men she had fucked weren’t true. She was damned tight. For the first time he wondered if she was a virgin. He would be the happiest man on this planet if that were true. After all he’d lost that day, knowing she’d never given herself to another man would be a warm light amidst this day of terror.
Marla made an adorable mewling sound when he pulled his finger from her cunt. The rich cream soaking his finger tasted like nectar, a treat from the gods. Maybe she was being offered to him in compensation for losing everything to the Bortan.
“I’ve never tasted anything so wonderful.” He glanced up at her, catching her watching him, her mouth shaped in an adorable tight circle.
He continued to watch her, praying to hold her gaze captive, while moving his mouth to her pussy. She didn’t look away when he covered her heat with his mouth, feeling her cream soak his lips. He could spend hours right there. But their time was precious. And right now he needed to hear what he saw in her expression.
“Am I so repulsive?” he asked her again.
Chapter Four
Marla had never been in such a vulnerable position in her life. She’d watched slaves bound before, enjoyed seeing them teased and fucked while tied and unable to move. But it was a completely different experience to be the one bound.
Her muscles ached, stretched and held captive. The discomfort had been her focus, enabling her to block out what was happening to her. But she hadn’t expected Trev of Kopah would seduce her.
“You are Trev of Kopah.” She didn’t understand why he kept asking her that. He knew he wasn’t repulsive. There wasn’t a man on this planet as beautiful as he was.
She wouldn’t submit to his mind games. Maybe he hadn’t tortured her like she thought he might. But this could be considered a method of attack. He obviously knew his skills were fine tuned, had probably fucked enough women to know just how to touch them, caress them, in order to gain their submission.
“Kopah no longer exists, Marla.” He pressed his mouth over her cunt, his lips smothering her clit with soothing, moist heat.
Turmoil grew inside her, a raging fire, boiling into a pressure seeking release. His mouth caressed her pussy, kissing and licking with a tenderness that weakened her defenses.
“You exist.” The gentle strokes his tongue applied to her pussy rippled through her. “Oh!” She cried out, unable to control the orgasm pulsating through her.
The ties around her wrists and ankles stretched against her skin, the desire to twist, to allow the orgasm to ride to its fullest extent, overwhelming her. But she couldn’t move, other than to twist her hips, which would only encourage Trev’s actions.
It was hard to speak. “Kopah is alive in you,” she managed to gasp out. If she could only keep her thoughts focused, she would be able to prevent Trev from turning her body against her mind.
And her mind knew Trev was the enemy, would always be the enemy. Nothing he could do to her would ever make her want him, or erase the fact that the two of them were not compatible. Their fathers had fought each other, and their fathers before them. Wars over sex slave rights, fair bargaining, proper breeding, had existed between the two families for generations. Their hatred for each other flowed in their blood. That couldn’t be changed.
At the moment though, she wished that it could. No man had ever lured her and taken her virginity. Of all the men who visited her father’s home, enjoyed his orgies, she’d never met one who’d turned her on—not like this. Trev of Kopah had her on the verge of begging to be fucked.
Trev straightened, leaving her pussy tingling, cold without the heat from his mouth. His grayish-lavender eyes studied her, searching for her inner thoughts. He wanted to know how he’d affected her, if his seductions worked. She stared back. Bound or not, he would know her as his equal, not some slut he could manipulate. No matter how he made her feel, she would never beg. Although damn, she sure as hell wanted to.
“I am Trev. There is no more Kopah. Everything is destroyed.” His gaze lowered to her breasts, his fingers tracing a path around her nipples. “Are you saying you despise me?”
He rolled her nipples between his thumb and finger, squeezing the sensitive flesh, sending bolts of electricity toward her throbbing pussy.
“You are my enemy.” She closed her eyes, needing to find something to focus on other than what he was doing to her. Her insides would melt from the heat, her resistance fading away. “Oh. Damn!” He pinched and released, pinched again then relaxed his grip, making her nipples the source of fire that burned straight to her cunt.
“I am not your enemy, Marla.” She could smell her cum on his breath. “Have I ever done anything to offend or hurt you?”
May the gods help her. No. Trev of Kopah had never harmed her. If anything, his incredible good looks had been more than a distraction whenever she’d seen him. The way he had always looked at her, silently letting her know that he wanted her, had only succeeded in making her think about him when she shouldn’t have been.
“You know that you haven’t.” She cried out when he sucked one of her nipples into his mouth. “Gods help me.” Her skin under the ties burned, her wrists and ankles pulling against her restraints while she arched into him.
His teeth scraped over her nipple, torturing the puckered flesh, ransacking her mind with the incredible urge to beg him to fuck her. Her pussy pounded with need, his sucking sending charged heat straight to her womb.
He straightened again. “I don’t think you and I are enemies.”
His voice was no more than a raw whisper. Opening her eyes, she had to see him, allowing a moment to pass so she could focus. Every inch of her body tingled with need. What was wrong with her that the only man in her life full of sex who made her want to give up her virginity was the one man she couldn’t have?
Pale brown curls fell around the hard features on his face. His grayish-lavender eyes penetrated her, their soft, glazed look peeling away at her defenses.
But he didn’t know the extent of the Bortan destruction. Neither of them did. Rational thought warred with her body’s craving for him. A brief lapse of lust, while bound and seduced, could haunt her once this horrific attack on her people had passed. She was Marla of Torl, not some slave or merchant’s daughter.
“I know what you’re trying to do, Trev.” She fought to slow her breathing, to force her body to cool down. “Taking advantage and fucking me won’t change anything.”
He must have seen her defenses build. Determination spread over his face, his lips forming into a tight line, while his eyes narrowed on her, like a hawk ready to attack his prey.
“Then tell me I am your enemy.” He pressed his body against her, allowing her to feel how hard his cock was. “Tell me how much you hate me.”
His breath tickled her neck, scorched the sensitive skin at her nape. Goose bumps raced over her skin when his fingers traced paths over her arms, reaching for her fingers. She gripped his hands, holding him stretched out against her.
Yes. Her father, now dead, had always despised Kopah. And no matter how much she accepted this, she couldn’t find hatred for him in her heart. Not even close—every inch of her wanted him.
“Tell me to leave you alone, Marla,” he whispered, his lips burning a path along her jawbone, until his mouth covered hers.
The fabric of his shirt brushed against her skin, his solid chest pressing her agonized breasts, rubbing her nipples. The wonderful torture made her itch to wrap her arms and legs around him, pull him even closer.
His cock thrust toward her pussy, mere fabric preventing him from penetrating her. And damnit to all of the hells, she wanted his cock buried deep inside her. The ache he’d created inside her built while his mouth moved over hers, his tongue brushing over her lips.
“Trev,” she murmured, opening her mouth, allowing his tongue to greet hers.
She couldn’t deny his kiss. He wanted her to declare him her enemy, but her heart found no enemy within him. His tongue swirled around her mouth, exploring, claiming, stating with actions what she refused to admit with words.
She clasped his hands tightly with her own, holding on to him as if she would fall if she let go.
“Tell me you’ve never wanted to do this,” he whispered into her mouth, leaving her gasping when he moved his mouth over to her ear.
Memories of seeing him at the auctions, watching him while her father cursed the Kopah name, flooded through her, creating even more of a desire to hold him to her. He’d been so tall, his clothing stretched over well-developed muscles, and had moved with a lazy stroll, his confidence and casual manner capturing the attention of all the young ladies. More than once she’d fought the urge to talk to him, flirt with him, make him see she could offer him more than any other tramp who hung on him. But that would have caused more than a scandal.
Trev raked his teeth over her earlobe.
“Oh gods,” she cried out before she could stop herself, the act sending tingles of denied desire rushing through her.
He freed his hands from hers, brushing over her skin with a touch that branded her, making her breathe harder, the fire inside her raging out of control. His hands gripped her breasts, pulling, squeezing, the pressure growing painful inside her cunt. He thrust his cock up against her pussy, her legs quivering, unable to wrap around him, stretched taut while the ties burned her ankles.
“What do you want from me?” She could take it no longer.
She arched her neck, squeezing her eyes shut while the flood of pent-up need, of cravings for a man she had been raised to hate, broke through her dam of resistance. Her orgasm ripped through her, cum soaking her cunt, her muscles clenching and relaxing.
“I just want you to acknowledge the truth.” His hands slid behind her, holding her ass, the strength of his grip pinning her to him.
She sagged into him when her orgasm ebbed, allowing him to hold her against him. The ties around her wrists and ankles burned less when she relaxed, every bit of her spent, her resistance washed away with the flow of her juices.
“Untie me, Trev.” She didn’t have the energy to say anything more.