Sex Slaves 2: Waiting For Yesterday Page 2

  “I think I would know who you are first.” He looked down the hall when two of the castle guards approached them.

  Marc wasn’t sure why he felt the need to protect her. The young woman tried to yank herself free of his grasp. She turned also when she heard the guards approaching and he didn’t miss her terrified look. Without giving it much thought, he pulled his cloak away from his shoulder and pulled her against him. Then turning his back to the guards, he blocked her from view until they had passed.

  She didn’t fight his actions. Her body pressed against his. She was shaking, but he was able to feel what he’d been unable to see. Full round breasts pressed against his chest. Her thin, fragile body was soft when she seemed to melt against him. The young woman was all female. His protector instincts went into high gear.

  Marc ignored the amused look Trent gave him. He waited until the two guards were out of sight and then moved his cloak. The young woman looked up at him.

  “I’m not sure why you did that, but thank you.” She moved, leaving his front half feeling a lot cooler than it had a moment ago. “May the gods be with you.”

  She turned to walk away and then looked at him over her shoulder, those gray eyes captivating him. “Which way to the King?” she asked.

  She was so petite, so dirty with her shirt torn exposing part of her shoulder. Yet at the same time she moved with dignity and self-confidence. Her actions definitely didn’t fit her appearance. That in itself piqued his curiosity.

  “Sending you to the King would be sending you to your death.” Trent Dar stole her attention with his words.

  “I’ll take my chances.” Her small tongue darted over her lips while she studied Trent.

  “You would have no chances.” Trent turned, looking down the hallway, and then toward the main courtyard.

  Voices came from the courtyard, laughter, a group slowly approaching. At the same time, the clomping of boots sounded from the other end of the hallway toward the King’s court.

  Marc grabbed the young lady before she could protest. “Let’s go.” She fought him less than he’d anticipated while he guided her down the hallway, Trent covering the rear.

  No one questioned her being in his presence. They managed their way through the outer courtyard while the multitude of sex slaves paraded around with hardly any clothing on. Never before had sex been made to look so…filthy.

  He guided them out the large balcony doors, the suns welcoming him with their cleansing warmth.

  “Damn. I’m sure as hell glad to be out of that place,” he mumbled, Trent nodding his agreement.

  The young woman hesitated when he began leading her down the wide marble stairs toward the road. He turned to see her staring wide-eyed at the small cruisers and gliders hovering below.

  “How long has it been since you’ve left the castle?” he asked her quietly.

  She looked up at him, and then away toward the street.

  “I’ve been there since we arrived on Benox.” She looked down when she spoke, making it harder to hear her.

  He pulled her along until they reached his cruiser, anxious to get away from the crowds of greedy people. These weren’t his people. All he saw here were people who’d sold their bodies, sold their souls, in hopes of a better life. Or the slaves who’d never had a choice. None of them looked happy.

  Trent moved around the cruiser, pointing the ignition controller at it in order to unlock and open the doors. The gray door on their side lifted, causing the young lady to jump backwards. He held on tightly to her hand.

  “You’ve never been in a cruiser?” he asked her.

  She shook her head, her white hair fanning over her shoulders. “I can’t go with you.”

  She stared at the cruiser’s roof, then looked down inside at the black seats at the front where a driver and passenger could sit. The side door allowed her to see that back half of the cruiser, an open area where supplies could be stored. Yet at the moment, there was nothing in the back.

  “Yes. You can.” He lifted her, the softness of her body making it hard to let her go as he climbed in after her into the cargo area of the cruiser. “Get us out of here, Dar.”

  The Gren needed no further encouragement. The cruiser hummed to life.

  The woman dropped to her hands and knees, looking around her like a wild animal. “Why are you kidnapping me?”

  Marc would have sat in the seat next to Trent. But he wanted to be close to the woman. Even hunched over, appearing so primitive in her crouched position, she appealed to him. Her pants draped over her ass, giving him a decent view of its shape. She was thin but with curves that stirred him to life. Blood pumped to his cock, the thought of mounting her from behind, sliding deep into her heat, distracting him for a moment.

  “You aren’t being kidnapped.” He was curious why she would want to stay in her obviously wretched existence. “What is your name?”

  “I am Dree of Torl and taking me against my will is kidnapping.” She braced herself when Trent lifted the cruiser off the ground, accelerating once they were airborne. “Who are you and where are we going?”

  Marc wiped a strand of hair from her face, its silk texture and the creamy soft feel of her skin adding to her appeal. A slave in such filthy attire would have rough skin, hardened muscles from hours of extensive labor. Dree of Torl didn’t appear to have a rough or hard spot on her.

  “I’m Marc Torin.” He watched for her reaction, but she offered none. Her soft gray eyes continued to look around the cruiser, taking in her surroundings. “And my traveling companion is Trent Dar.”

  “Where are you taking me?” She finally looked at him. Apparently neither of their names meant anything to her, or she was very good at masking her reactions.

  “We’re headed to the House of Torin. But we won’t make it there today. We’ll camp once we are out of King Sorale’s territory.”

  She looked up at him, fear in her eyes. “You’ve got to take me back. Please. I can’t leave the palace. Not like this.”

  Marc saw now that she must have a very cruel master. Why her skin was so soft, her appearance so refined, he didn’t know. But she was terrified of some wrath she would face if she displeased someone. He reached for her, needing to touch her again. And he wanted to calm the worry he saw building in her.

  “You are more safe with the two of us than you would be anywhere else.” He felt her heart race when he took her wrist. “No one will hurt you.”

  “My people…” she began. Her words faded and she tried to pull her hand free. “You wouldn’t understand.”

  Marc tightened his grip, pulling Dree closer to him. She looked up at him when he brought her to him. The pain he saw in her eyes grabbed his heart.

  “Tell me.” He sat on the floor of the cargo area, pulling her into his lap.

  She shook her head firmly, pursing her lips as if to keep from speaking. But she didn’t fight him.

  Her soft round ass nestled between his legs. It was best to stop her before he wrapped his arms around her, resting her on top of his cock. He was a man with great control, years of warrior training, and skilled in using his mind and body. But it had been a while since he’d fucked a woman. There hadn’t been time. Too much was going on with his land and his people. Every moment had been focused on making sure the towns he governed were protected.

  Dree’s white hair fell over his arm, tickling his senses, wreaking havoc on his ability to think straight. She was stiff, unwilling to relax against him. But he held her hand in his, close to his body. The soft curve of her thigh under his other hand made him want to explore, stroke her until she relaxed.

  “I’ve made contact with our camp.” Trent made Dree jump when he spoke. “All is intact there.”

  “Good.” Marc moved his hand to Dree’s back, brushing his fingers over the rough material of her shirt. More than anything he wanted to put his hand under her clothing, feel the warmth of her against him.

  “The King’s men are looking for us,” Trent adde
d. The Gren paused for a moment and then added, “Maybe they want her.”

  “The King doesn’t care about any of us,” Dree murmured, but he didn’t miss the bitterness in her voice.

  “Don’t acknowledge his men. Keep going until you reach camp.” Marc watched Trent nod silently while Dree remained stiff against him. He looked down at her, letting go of her hand to take her chin in his hands so he could see her face. He lifted her face to his. “Would he be looking for you?” he asked her quietly.

  He held her head in his hands, cupping her chin while she looked up at him with those soft gray eyes. Her white hair, falling away from her face, accented her creamy skin. He rubbed his thumb against her face, the smoothness of it so enticing.

  “I don’t see why,” she said. “I doubt he even knows I exist.”

  There was something about how she looked at him. A complete stranger, yet he saw trust in her eyes. She wouldn’t relax, did nothing to encourage his actions while he held her, but he saw something in Dree he hadn’t seen in too many faces in the past. He saw wisdom and compassion. The way she looked at him, those large gray eyes searching his face, she knew he would take care of her. And her expression told him she had accepted that.

  “The King may not care, but he’s not as powerful as you might believe.” Marc ignored Trent when the Gren cleared his throat. He wouldn’t stoop to blindly supporting a king who was spineless. “Are you one of his slaves?”

  Many may fear the Gren, but Marc knew Trent Dar respected his authority. His opinion on what Marc should tell Dree and not tell her was noted.

  Dree straightened, her breasts brushing against the side of his arm when she moved.

  “We are not slaves.”

  The determination in her voice made him wonder what exactly her station was. “Then what exactly are you?”

  “My people were freed before we arrived on Benox.” She glanced around him, and then appeared to focus her attention on his chest. “The King has enough sex slaves to keep him busy; he has barely noticed we are here.”

  As beautiful as she was, he had a hard time believing she’d been completely ignored in the courts. And if the King had ignored her, then the man was a bigger fool than Marc had originally guessed.

  More than anything he wanted to tighten his grip on her, feel for just a second longer the soft roundness that had barely touched him. Her shirt was so baggy and ill-fitted that he had no hopes of seeing anything of her with it on. Once they got to camp, he would see about bathing her and getting her clean clothes, tighter-fitting clothes. As small as she was, that might prove a challenge.

  “Who exactly are we?” He wanted to know more about her, but as soon as he’d asked, he knew he wouldn’t get an answer.

  Dree stared at him, sucking her lower lip between her teeth. “Just my people. I need to get back to them. They need me.”

  She was lying. He didn’t know why, but her trust in him had just faded.

  Chapter Three

  For some reason getting out of the cruiser seemed like acknowledging Dree would never see her people again. She wanted to stay right where she was. Sooner or later this thing would return to the castle. It had to. And then she could get back to where she was needed.

  They had traveled a long way. She knew little about the planet Benox other than it was the largest planet in the solar system. When the side door opened it was dark outside, the second sun no longer visible on the horizon. The others would assume the King had killed her by now. Her heart ached for the anguish they would feel over assuming she was dead.

  “Don’t you want something to eat?” Marc stood outside a carrier, parked next to the cruiser they’d arrived in, holding his hand out to her. “I promise you that no one here will bother you.”

  She believed him. It hadn’t taken much to figure out that he was a leader among his own people. The other man traveling with Marc looked quite dangerous, with his coal black eyes that hardly blinked, and shiny long black hair. Both men were very large and muscular. The other man, Trent Dar, followed Marc’s instruction without question though. A sign that he trusted his leader.

  She doubted telling him again that she needed to return to the castle would do any good. “How long will we be here?” she asked instead.

  “Just overnight. We’ll head home tomorrow.” He didn’t smile. She hadn’t seen him smile yet.

  But even in the dark, his light blue eyes warmed her like a summer day. They probed her, seeming to be able to reach right into that part of her soul she kept hidden from everyone. She had a hard time looking away.

  “It’s okay.” He was trying to reassure her, moving closer while he reached for her.

  Dree looked down at his hand, so large and calloused. He worked hard doing whatever he did. Marc Torin had more muscles on his body than any man she’d been with before. Sitting in his lap all the way there had almost been more than she could handle. Even now her body tingled from having all of that strength wrapped around her.

  She’d tried being immune to him. But all of her training since she was a young girl in the fine arts of pleasing men and women and knowing how to act around them hadn’t prepared her for this man. Even trying to distance herself, pretend she was somewhere else, back on Torl, sitting in the master’s kitchen listening to the cooks gossip cheerfully. Nothing had worked in taking her mind off of his virile body, so masculine, so powerful, so much more than any man she’d ever fucked in her years as a sex slave.

  “Some food would be nice.” Maybe admitting to her hunger would help keep her mind off of Marc.

  She slid her hand into his and realized that would be impossible. It had been days since she’d eaten more than a scrap or two. But when his fingers wrapped around her hand, the heat from his body washed through her, making her feel almost giddy.

  Trent Dar watched them when they approached two other cruisers parked near each other with a handful of men lounging around them. The others looked up too, their expressions curious.

  “This is Dree of Torl,” Marc told the group. “She is with me and will be treated with the utmost respect.”

  No one had ever introduced her like that before. She thought she might pass out from the fury of heat that flushed through her. Life as a slave seldom rated an introduction at all.

  The men straightened, taking in her filthy attire. She didn’t dare imagine what thoughts might be running through their heads.

  “Torl, huh?” one of them spoke up, an older man with thick gray whiskers. “Are you one of those sex slave traders?”

  A few chuckles came from the other men. Dree didn’t know what to say. These people thought she was an owner instead of a slave. Surely her appearance defied that as truth.

  Marc didn’t allow her time to respond. “She needs some privacy. Someone find her some clothes that fit until we are home.”

  Immediately the men jumped up. Within minutes one of the carriers was prepared for her to bathe in privacy.

  Dree couldn’t believe how warm the water was. A large tub had been placed inside the carrier. Towels and clean clothes lay beside it. She relished the steam that soaked through her skin while scrubbing the filth off of her with a small cloth. Growing up on Torl, she and the other ladies often bathed in the creek. Never had she experienced a bath as luxurious as this.

  “There is different soap that you use for your head.” Marc’s words surprised her, having not heard him enter.

  She swallowed too much water. The soap on her head trailed into her eyes. She straightened quickly, splashing water over her face. Marc’s large hand covered her face, the cloth wiping the soap away.

  “You startled me.” She blinked a few times, and then sucked in her breath when she realized he knelt next to the tub, his face so close to hers.

  “Lean your head back.” He brought up a pitcher she hadn’t noticed and dipped it into the water.

  No one had ever bathed her before. Dree felt foolish and in awe all at the same time. If this was a normal practice among Marc Tor
in’s people, she liked it very much.

  She leaned her head back and his hand came up to rest between her shoulder blades, offering her support. He seemed to hold her with that one large hand, while he scooped water with the other, and then poured it over her head. His fingers spread across her back, singeing her with the heat of his touch. Her insides smoldered, warmth rushing through her with enough force she would have slid right under the water if he hadn’t held her so securely.

  Dree did her best to watch him, closing her eyes only when necessary to keep water out of them. He continually looked down her body, enjoying her nudity. Many men had seen her naked, living at Torl she often spent days without clothes on, entertaining whatever man she was given to.

  As many men and women who had touched her, enjoyed her body, explored every inch of her, she’d never had the sensation of being devoured the way she did now. Marc’s hand simply touched her back. His hands didn’t rub her breasts, his fingers didn’t brush over her nipples, and he didn’t explore her pussy.

  But something was different here. He straightened her so that he could rub liquid soap into her hair, those large hands amazingly gentle while he massaged her scalp. He didn’t try to fondle or caress her in any way. Nor did he speak. With quiet attentiveness to his task, he washed her hair.

  It was the way he looked at her. His eyes brushed over her, his gaze burning her skin. Without touching her anywhere other than her hair, he had her insides melting, her pussy throbbing with a lust unlike any she’d experienced before. She didn’t know how to react, what to do or say.

  Her heart began racing when he soaped up the washcloth and began cleaning her body. More than anything she wanted him to rub her breasts, soothe the growing itch in her nipples. It made no sense that his actions would stir her this way. The water cooled, yet she burned inside. A fire raged inside her, the throbbing growing deep inside her cunt while he ran the cloth over her arms, her back, and then her front.