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Illicit Desire: Outlawed Realm, Book 2 Page 4
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She had to content herself with Lukan’s skilled touch as he washed her most intimate areas. He explored the length of her cleft, tracing the contours of her vulva, separating those soft lips to expose her erect nub, his movements tender. A sense of being treasured weakened her. And yet, she also felt oddly vulnerable. She didn’t want Lukan to change suddenly and simply use her as the other men had. From him, she already craved more.
He gave it, seeing to her pleasure, not his. He divided his attention between her clit and the tight ring of her anus, making certain to delight, not injure. It was too much and not enough. She imagined him asking if she liked what he was doing, caring about her response. She pictured his fingers replaced by his cock with it thrusting into each of her channels, working her until she took all of him inside because they both wanted it.
She saw herself kneeling before him, cradling his stiffened rod in her palms, tonguing the veins snaking up his thick column of flesh, licking the small depression in the head, tasting the first hint of his salty fluid so that she might give him what he craved.
A powerful orgasm shuddered through Arez, causing her to gasp. Lukan turned her to the side, their bodies making splashing noises to hide the sound. What they’d done.
Trembling, she clung to the enchanting release, fueled by danger, defiance and a bond she’d never known with another individual.
Unable to resist, she whispered, “Come to me again.” A foolish request, she knew, perhaps even impossible given that slaves had no voice in what they wanted or what occurred. The reality of their world hadn’t stopped Arez. “I know you want to.”
Her bold comment registered on Lukan’s face. Although he didn’t dare look at her directly, she saw a hint of a smile on his lips.
After that, he managed to bathe her each night. How, Arez didn’t know nor did she care. She lived for their snatches of conversation. He told her about the world outside the Palace, one Arez hadn’t realized existed.
“The sun’s brighter than a thousand candles,” he’d said. “It shines during the day and goes down at night.”
Day? Night? What was he talking about? “Where does it go?” she asked.
“Below the horizon, to another part of the planet.”
Arez had no idea what a horizon or planet was and wanted to ask but didn’t, deciding not to interrupt him. The deep rumbling of his voice delighted and soothed her far too much.
“There are places where people go about as they please,” he told her another time. “Not only the rulers, but everyone. They eat as much as they want, whenever they’re hungry. They don’t have to ask permission.”
“That can’t be,” she blurted, unable to conceive of having food so readily available. “How is such a thing possible?”
“They’re free.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I know, Arez.” He grazed her cheek with his knuckles.
It took all of her will not to turn her face into his hand to kiss his palm. The guards would surely notice and might punish him for her lack of restraint. “Arez?” She’d never heard the word before.
“It means freedom. To do as you please, go wherever you want, eat your fill. It’s from our language, the one used on E2 where Meelo and Damir created us. It’s the name you deserve. One I’m giving you.”
He prized her so much he’d offered her a name? An honor only the rulers had a right to? What was he thinking? “Don’t say such things,” she whispered. “It’s too dangerous for you to even consider it.”
“No one but you and I will know. Are you afraid, Arez?”
Not for herself. For him. The guards could whip her until she bled; the rulers could deny her food. None of it would hurt as much as having them harm Lukan.
A name she’d given him that day. Arez had no idea what it meant. She’d heard it as a little girl, her caretakers saying it belonged to their race’s first ruler. A man who deserved respect and deference to his every command.
Arez denied Lukan nothing, not out of obedience but affection, what he called love. She allowed him to do as he willed…as she desired…in the bathing place and when the rulers chose him to mount her while they watched, gauging both of their performances. The quality of her moans, the thickness and rigidity of his cock, how long he could withstand the intensifying friction between their bodies and his need for release.
Even with his shaft between her lips and her tongue stroking the silky head, he held off just as their rulers commanded. Sweat trickled down his torso, his toes splayed, his chest pumped with his tattered breaths, but he hadn’t given in to immediate pleasure. Although hours passed as they engaged in every carnal act imaginable, Lukan fought fatigue.
Arez knew how he suffered. She sensed it in his trembling muscles and increasingly sluggish moves. A dangerous combination in any slave that he needed to hide at all cost.
Where is he?
She snuck a peek around the room, so vast it dwarfed the occupants. Scores of naked males sported erections as required by the regulations. Their continuous arousal proved they could still perform on command and endure whatever the rulers demanded of them. Some wore expressions bordering on frustration, which they tried to hide. All tended to the females, who stood thigh-deep in the water, submitting to their baths.
Arez sucked her bottom lip. She continued to search for but didn’t see Lukan. So much time had passed since he’d last been with her, giving her hope, promising in whispers that he’d never leave her. He’d see to her safety. He’d gain their freedom somehow.
Had one of the other slaves overheard and told a guard everything in exchange for an extra morsel of meat or bread?
Her skin stung, then went clammy at another thought.
Had Lukan fallen ill again? Was he too weak to come to her? Had the guards withheld food from him as they had in the past? Or had they taken him from here, delivering him to one of the rulers who would now own him?
No. Not that. She’d never see Lukan again.
Arez shifted her weight, revealing her distress, unable to stop even though she knew the trouble it might bring. She had to find him.
How? She couldn’t leave the line to search this room or any of the others. That kind of behavior was inconceivable. The guards would surely stop her. If they didn’t, then other slaves, indoctrinated to turn on one another, would see to her capture.
Her mind raced, searching for a way to do what she must.
From the side, wood cracked, then groaned. Several guards pushed open the doors, taller than them by several feet. Steam escaped into the candlelit hall, flickering those flames. The men’s damp skin glinted in the faint light. They were as naked as their charges and as similar to each other in appearance as the rulers were to those of their kind. Each guard had a bruising build with a thick neck, muscular shoulders and arms, light brown eyes, curly black hair and a complexion as dark as the cinnamon used to scent the room.
Most were empty-handed. One had the end of a leather strap wrapped around his palm.
Its ends swung provocatively with each of his steps, his feet making slapping noises as they hit numerous puddles. Up and down the line he went, surveying the female slaves.
Some watched him with interest and heightened lust. The redhead who’d been punished earlier stepped away from Arez and into his path. “Whip me,” she begged.
Grabbing her upper arm, he turned her around and studied the marks on her fair skin. Without a word, he pushed her aside and continued his search, choosing a blonde whose long hair dangled past her ass.
Two other guards came forward. One pulled the girl’s hair over her shoulder, revealing the length of her back and plush buttocks. The next grabbed her wrists, lifting them to one of the many shackles hanging from the ceiling.
Once fettered, she wore a look of surrender at what she couldn’t stop. Beneath it, Arez saw feral desire at what the young woman wanted.
The guard made her wait.
He circled her, his steps slow and deliberate, each acco
mpanied by him hitting the end of the strap against his palm. The noise matched the tapping of his naked feet. Halting behind her, he ran his fingers down the furrow between her cheeks.
It was all the direction she needed. The girl parted her legs, allowing the guard what he willed.
He didn’t touch her mound or clit as expected. Instead, he moved to her side, running his fingertips up the inside of her arm. She lifted her chin to the ceiling, her lips parting on a shameless sigh. The guard bent down, swirling his tongue over the tip of her nipple. One of his companions claimed her mouth. The next pushed his fingers into her cunt.
She went to her toes, her moans muffled by the guard’s tongue.
They worked her relentlessly, kissing, suckling, stroking. Her legs wavered. Her body, already dewy from the mist, became slick with perspiration.
They wouldn’t allow her to come.
All three of the guards stepped back, regarding what they’d accomplished. The girl gulped air and begged for more. The first lick of the strap hit her ass full on, the crack echoing through the space. She cried out and dared tug on her chains, her hunger for more evident.
The guard marked her well, his punishment rough and prolonged. Her buttocks quivered with the blows, flushing red. Although she begged for it to continue, the guard finally stopped. He dipped his fingers between her legs as though to test her response. His hand glistened with her juices, her pussy moist with anticipation and need. Another of the guards also tested her, while his companion unlocked her shackles.
The girl’s arms fell to her sides. Together, she and the guard who’d whipped her sank to their knees. On all fours, she took his cock into her eager mouth, drawing in his full length, the tip of her noise touching the thick hair on his groin. In that position, she was accessible to the other guards.
The one who’d shackled her acted first, kneeling between her legs. With his hands on her whipped ass, he squeezed her tender flesh. She obeyed his wordless command, spreading her thighs still more, arching her back even as she continued to lick and suckle the other guard’s meaty rod.
His jaw tightened, making the tendons in his neck more prominent. A guttural moan poured from him.
Not to be ignored, the guard between her legs lifted his shaft and penetrated the blonde’s anus, his actions concerned with his pleasure, not hers.
The men’s plunder of her continued with the third guard tugging on her nipple while his free hand went between her legs. The sudden rapture on her face said the man was manipulating her clit.
In spite of her own arousal, she tended to the guard whose cock she suckled as was her duty, bringing him to a jarring climax, evident in his heaving chest and fists squeezed so tight his knuckles blanched. The other man drove into her anus one last time and trembled, his gritted teeth suppressing his shout.
With his companions sated, the third guard withdrew his hand. All of them moved away from the slave, leaving her unfulfilled. She struggled to stand and resume her place in line. Her face held no emotion, but Arez guessed the girl was recounting what had occurred, trying to determine where she’d failed. Had she licked the guard’s cock too slowly or too quick? Had she failed to swallow some of his ejaculate? Was her anus too tight for the other one’s enjoyment? What had she done for them to deny her relief?
The answer was never clear. The mystery generated both annoyance and hope that the next time would be different.
A hand grabbed Arez’s arm, the male slave directing her into the pool. In the candlelight, his eyes were nearly black, not the blue-green tint she loved. His skin was an olive shade rather than golden. Dark ringlets swayed above his shoulders, rather than wavy blond hair touching them as Lukan’s had.
Where are you?
With a gesture, the male slave directed Arez to drape her arms over her head so he could wash her pits and breasts. A thousand times she’d done the same without any emotion or thought. Tonight, she envisioned Lukan running his hands down her body, pausing on the flare of her hips, the soft curve of her belly.
It was he, not this slave, who she felt probing her anus and slit, cleansing both openings for her masters’ use.
Would they take her tonight, or would Lukan join her on the stage as he’d done before?
Arez’s hope for that fell as her bath ended and a guard led her past the performance area to her room. What Lukan referred to as a cage. Velvet hangings decorated the stone walls, the red and purple shades rich and deep. Tall black candles burned in the corners of the space, creating a soft glow on the ebony silk draped across the bed.
Surrounding it were numerous chairs for those rulers who preferred to watch, rather than participate.
She climbed onto the mattress, large enough for herself and five men. Often, there were many more than the space allowed. Manacles lay at each of the four posts, ready to imprison her. Not that she ever had a chance of escape.
“You’ll know freedom someday,” Lukan had said.
When? Now? Tonight? With him? How could he give her hope only to abandon her?
Why did you leave me? Come back. Please.
Even if they had nothing more than their servitude here, for Arez it would be enough. At least they’d be together, sharing whispers, perhaps a smile. Someday, they might have the opportunity to glance at each other for longer than a moment. Enough time to read an expression and to know what lay inside someone’s heart.
On her hands and knees, she spread her legs for the male slave whose fingers were slick from oil scented with lavender and vanilla, well-known aphrodisiacs. He applied the concoction liberally to her vaginal lips, clit and anus. When Lukan had done the same, she’d fought desire. Tonight, she struggled against melancholy, an emotion new to her. One she endured as the slave next applied musk to the tips of her breasts, the area beneath them, her throat, the insides of her thighs and the hollow between her buttocks. Every place a ruler might seek to enjoy her.
So many had. She’d spent a great deal of her life surrounded by others yet always alone. Prior to Lukan, she hadn’t realized something more existed or that she’d want it so desperately.
“Go on,” the guard said, breaking into Arez’s thoughts.
Obeying the directive, she remained passive as the male slave clamped the shackles around her wrists, slipping the chains over an eyebolt in the bed’s headboard. Footfalls sounded in the hall. The faint smacking of bare feet against the hard floor signaled another slave approaching, not a guard or a ruler. They began every evening fully dressed, including the shoes they wore.
“It’s to show our superiority to you,” a guard explained early on. “Your nudity proves your subservience. You have no choice to hide your body or who might use it and when. Every decision regarding your life and what happens with it belongs to us and the rulers alone.”
The footfalls continued, moving closer to this room. Arez didn’t know what to think. In the past, the slave who oiled and perfumed her was also the one she submitted to until the rulers took his place. Was tonight going to be different? Why?
The door opened.
Lukan? Had he returned?
No.
The male slave with the dark ringlets entered, carrying a tray of steaming meat, thick white bread, plump fruit, its red-and-green skin sparkling in the spare light. Beads of moisture trickled down goblets of water and another liquid Arez couldn’t identify.
Rulers poured into the room, each taking a seat, all regarding her nudity. Past them was more movement.
Again, her mind cried Lukan.
The man who entered had black hair, not blond. He was older than Lukan, his features rugged, not perfect, his dark eyes intense, the small scar on his cheekbone setting him apart from the rest. Identifying him.
Vakar.
Arez stared. Never had he used her. Why was he here tonight? She struggled to take a breath and failed.
With his full attention on her, Vakar closed and locked the door.
Chapter Four
Nikoli adjusted the liv
ing room shutters, watching Meelo, Damir and Lukan move away from the house to the sidewalk. There, Lukan stopped, lifting his face to the sky dusted with stars. After years of confinement on E4, he wore a look of wonder at being outside, surrounded by nothing more than the quiet night and fresh scents. To feel the breeze brushing against his skin and tugging his hair.
Blond strands fluttered across his forehead and neck. He didn’t bother to pull them away. In his eyes, Nikoli recognized the same yearning he’d known when honor and duty imprisoned him on E2. Seeing Regina for the first time, watching her through a portal, had changed that. Nikoli had wanted her so badly nothing mattered except destroying Sazaar and the other vampires before they could harm her. His actions were traitorous and could have led to execution in his realm.
He hadn’t cared about himself. Without Regina, he had no future, no life.
In that, he was the same as Lukan. The man loved Arez. Circumstances beyond his and Nikoli’s control had kept them from their women while also coaxing them nearer, as though to test what they could endure.
For Lukan, he’d had enough, reaching the end of his patience a short time before.
“You have the power to open portals,” he said to Nikoli. “You found your way to this realm. You’re going to help me travel back to E4, to Arez, so I can bring her here.”
He made it sound so easy when Nikoli knew it was not, having already done something similar. When he’d committed himself to rescuing Regina, he built a device that opened gateways at will, allowing him to travel freely from her realm to his. An act of treason on his part. At the time, he’d believed that no one, not even those in his government, had such an ability.
What the rulers had done to Lukan and countless other slaves—birthing them in the laboratories on E2 for transport to E4 and eventual servitude in the Pleasure Palace—convinced Nikoli otherwise.