Sex Slaves 03 Waiting for Dawn Page 7

  It shouldn’t matter to him that she was excited to see some other guy. They’d had some great sex the night before, and she was a damned good fuck—one he wouldn’t mind doing again. But no matter her scruples, if she had a man, he would leave her alone.

  He moved his hand off of her waist, immediately missing the warmth of her body. There was no time to miss what he’d never really had though. She wasn’t his woman. Turning, he accelerated the glider in the direction Dawn indicated while keeping an eye in the direction of Grok.

  “Those are Gren ships,” he acknowledged, knowing they were securing the city. “Any Bortan left will be incarcerated before the night is out.”

  “They should be killed,” Dawn muttered, the bitterness obvious in her voice.

  She turned her attention toward Ryl. Her land spread out around them now. Plush and beautiful, or it had been at one time. Fires had destroyed the place, burning the countryside, and killing the many Bosha that had grazed these meadows. Now there was nothing. No slaves, no family, no one. An emptiness filled her as she caught sight of the ship that had landed ahead of them. The suns glistened off of its metal, blinding them.

  “That’s it.” She should be more excited.

  The safety of her ship meant she could get off of this planet. Away from the Bortan, away from the memories. That had been her plan. Finish this mission and then go to Greneen. She wouldn’t be welcome there, at least not by her father’s family. But he had offered her help in starting a new life there, starting over.

  She wondered what Trent would be doing after all of this was over. Probably taking the next assignment that Command Center gave him. The emptiness in her became an aching throb in her gut.

  Pulling out her comm, she told her crew to open the back hatch, allowing them to drive into the back port of her ship.

  “Where’d you get this?” Trent asked after parking the glider in the holding bay of her ship.

  “I bought it.” She didn’t have to tell him where she got the money. It wasn’t his business.

  There had been plenty of cases of slaves suddenly showing up filthy rich, having cleaned out the drawers of their plantation after their owners had been killed. She didn’t blame any of them. They had to survive somehow.

  “I’m so glad you’re back!” Pahr jumped out of the commander’s seat, hurrying to embrace Dawn.

  Trent stood silently, watching the tall, muscular man hold Dawn affectionately. She made no qualms about returning the affection, holding him tight showing him that she’d missed Pahr too. Trent wanted to rip her out of the Poltarian’s arms.

  “He’s been a crybaby the entire time you were gone.” Another man walked around from the control console, also Poltarian, and just as good-looking as Pahr.

  Pahr pulled out of her arms, suddenly looking like he might cry. What the hell did a woman as strong as Dawn see in this wimp?

  “Leave him alone,” she scolded the man, and then turned to Trent in time for him to see her smile. “Trent, this is Pahr, and this is Reen.”

  The two men nodded at Trent, straightening, their expressions solemn. For the sake of the gods! Both of them had been sex slaves. He recognized the submissive expression they got when looking at him, as if waiting orders. No wonder this Pahr man was such a wimp. Trent would wager if he growled at them he would have them running to the corner. The thought rather amused him.

  A young woman, also Poltarian by the looks of her long white hair falling past her shoulders and tattoo-covered bare arms, entered the room from a door off to the side. She swayed toward them, her small feet moving silently across the floor. She wore slippers on her feet, the way one of the wealthy of this planet dressed in the comfort of their homes.

  “Dawn. It’s about time.” She grinned broadly and hurried into Dawn’s arms, hugging her as affectionately as the two men just had. “I couldn’t stand it that you were gone so long. Thank the gods you are okay.”

  Again Dawn made introductions. “And this is Rayn,” she said, her arm still around the young woman when she spoke to Trent.

  “He’s a Gren.” Rayn looked up at him with soft gray eyes, her bright tattoos adorning her skin, proof in the Poltarian society that she’d never been a slave.

  Trent wondered at the hodge-podge of people staring at him. This wasn’t what he’d expected.

  Dawn glanced up at Trent. His expression wasn’t readable, but those black eyes made her want to melt inside. He stood there so strong, his black clothing stretching taut over his muscular body. He was so beautiful, so perfect, that a lump swelled in her throat. He was worlds away from her, and she wished it were otherwise.

  Turning, fearful emotions would rise that she didn’t want to deal with, she focused on the control panel, on the work that still lay around them.

  “Are we monitoring Grok?” she asked, running her fingers over the buttons on the control panel that faced the windows toward the front of the ship.

  “I set up the programs like you taught me.” Pahr moved to stand next to her, his hand running fondly down her back, smoothing her long silky black hair.

  Trent watched the action. He moved in on the two of them, not liking the movement. If the Poltarian showed intimidation and moved out of the way, that wasn’t his problem. Pahr stepped to the side, standing next to Reen. The two men watched him, but he gave them no more than a glance before focusing on the control panel.

  “This equipment is state of the art.” He recognized the monitoring program she had running as soon as she pulled it up. It was an intricate program, designed to track the locations of other ships and monitor life forms on the ground. Only the top-of-the-line ships had stuff like this.

  “Yes. I know.” Dawn wondered if he would question how she got it. Granted her sellers weren’t who his military would buy from. But then his military wouldn’t give her the time of the day anyway.

  Trent moved so that he could easily see over her shoulder, the lingering scent of his soap that she’d used that morning filling the air around her. He glanced down her backside, loving how her black pants hugged that sweet ass of hers. Her hair fanned around her shoulders, gliding down to the narrow of her back. He ached to grip those black locks, pull her out of the way, place her alongside him while he took over the controls. The urge to show her that he wanted her by him, to be his woman, hit him with such a strong blow it took his breath. No woman had ever moved him like this.

  He pulled his attention from her when several blinking red lights started on the console.

  “I know,” she said, as if reading his thoughts. Her fingers moved nimbly over the board. “The Bortan are trying a counterattack.”

  “Trying is the keyword.” Trent had his fingers moving right along beside her, not caring if she proclaimed it her equipment. He’d used this level of technology before and wanted to see how successful the attack was. “Look there. We have men coming down now.”

  “The Bortan don’t stand a chance.” Dawn looked up at her shipmates, smiling. “It won’t be long now before there are no more Bortan on Poltar.”

  Rayn clapped her hands together. “Finally. We will be able to go home.”

  Trent looked at the young Poltarian. Her smile met her eyes, her expression glowing at the thought that her home that probably didn’t exist any longer would soon be hers again. The tragedies of war, they came in all shapes and sizes. This young woman, so fragile and pretty, lived in denial.

  “Rayn. Go find some of that Greneen tea. We would like some right now.” Dawn didn’t look at her, but moved around the control panel, pressing buttons on the wall to turn on several screens that were on the walls to either side of them. Images of Grok slowly came into focus. She ignored the Poltarian woman as she left through the door she entered, and focused on Trent. “We have images of both sides of the city here. Monitoring to the south and to the north, we will know how long we are safe here. And we could monitor Gren transmissions as well to determine if more Bortan ships are headed to Poltar.”

  She
was telling him they had the capability of tapping into military communications, spying on them. It was an illegal maneuver, but one that would assure their safety. He had no doubts she would perform the function if he wasn’t there. But with him present, there was no way she would authorize the transmission. At least she didn’t play him for an idiot and try to pull off the stunt under his nose.

  “Do it.” He nodded, not taking his eyes off of her when she gestured to one of her men.

  “Pahr. Set up the communication override. I want to know everything going on around this planet.” Her expression was calm, but she stood tall, all muscles tight, her body firm.

  She was a natural commander, in charge of a ship full of weaklings who wouldn’t make it a second without her. One thing he knew beyond a shadow of doubt, none of these people had asked her to obtain those Bortan chips. He wondered how she’d obtained them.

  Pahr moved to a side panel, while Reen moved closer to Dawn, eyeing Trent out of the corner of his eye nervously.

  “Is he staying with us?” he whispered, although loud enough for Trent to hear. “I could convert the lounge, make up a bed.”

  Dawn stroked his cheek, smiling fondly. Trent felt his muscles harden again. He watched the intimate action, and couldn’t help wonder if she had sex with these two. After all, they had been sex slaves. He guessed they had all lived on the same plantation together. He didn’t know yet what part on that plantation Dawn had played, but imagining her as a sex slave just didn’t work in his mind. She wouldn’t have taken orders from anyone.

  “Why don’t we see if Rayn needs any help,” she told Reen. Turning to Trent her smile faded, the look of a warrior returning. “I’ll be back in a minute,” she told him, then turned and left the control room.

  He focused his attention on the programs running, making himself at home and channeling in to listen to several different communications. Too much time passed and Dawn didn’t return. Something was wrong. He decided it was time to explore the rest of her ship.

  Chapter Eight

  The second sun had almost set when Dawn left her ship and walked across the familiar land toward where her home had once stood. She didn’t doubt that she might not walk this way again. Poltar had nothing to offer her anymore. But if just for tonight, just this one last time, she would see her mother.

  The calm of the night didn’t soothe her. New plants had started to grow after the terrible fires, but the home she’d grown up on no longer existed. She moved silently, walking across the field toward the remnants of the large home where she’d grown up. For a minute, in the fading light of the suns, she stared at the foundation that still stood.

  Once it had been a magnificent home, full of life and parties. Prosperous times and shrewd deals had kept the beautiful home lively. Now the remnants of a stone foundation were all that was left.

  Dawn trod over the rocky ground, moving to the unmarked grave where she’d buried her mother. Even in the dim light, she knew where to go. Before reaching the remains of her home, she paused, staring down at the small rocks that marked the shallow graves, graves she had dug herself after the deaths of her family.

  She squatted down, brushing the dirt from one of the rocks that formed the small cemetery she’d created when she put her family to rest after they were killed by the Bortan.

  “It’s done, Mama,” she said, a lump forming in her throat while her heart constricted. “I told you I would see to it that no Bortan walked across the land where you rested. I really think you would be proud of me. There was no way I could ever be the sex slave that you were, but now, you should see, I’m making something of myself.”

  Dawn sighed, unable to stop the tears. She stared up at the pale sky, darkening as the suns faded beyond the horizon. She wasn’t sure if her mom would be proud of her or not. Too many times she’d seen the gaze of disapproval when she’d stood up to their master, refusing to submit, taking her punishment with her head held high. She let the tears stream down her cheek, returning her attention to her mother’s grave.

  “It’s a different world now, Mom.” And it was one her mother never would have fit into. “There are no more slaves, no more masters. I’m happy now, Mom. I want you to know that.”

  Her heart weighed heavy in her chest. But there were things she needed her Mom to know, and knew saying them now would clear her conscience. No one would hear. And she could only hope that somehow her mother would know what her thoughts were.

  “I’ve talked to Zahn Corl. I know you wanted me to know who my father was.” Her voice caught in her throat. Mentioning the man’s name her master had forbidden her to meet on Ryl land somehow affected her. She stood, straightening her shirt, staring down at her mother’s grave. She no longer answered to the master of Ryl, and wouldn’t let voicing her thoughts here intimidate her. “He was really happy to know me. You would have been proud. I can’t say the same of his wife.” Dawn let out a chuckle, relaxing a bit, the land around her no longer holding the power over her that it once had. “But he will help me, Mom. You don’t have anything to worry about.”

  A crack behind her alerted her. Dawn whirled around, pulling her laser, and pointed it straight at Trent Dar.

  He couldn’t believe what he’d just heard.

  Dawn stared into those black eyes, glowing brightly while his raven hair fell around his face. His body straightened, muscles swelling under his shirt as he stared at her.

  “What are you doing out here all by yourself?” he asked, ignoring the laser pointed at his face and moving closer to her.

  He didn’t doubt her ability to kill, not for a second, but she wouldn’t shoot him.

  “If I’d needed an escort, I would have asked for one,” she told him, not lowering her gun.

  Trent moved quickly, deciding a lesson needed to be taught. He lunged at her, taking her laser before she had time to react, and pinning her arm behind her back. He wrapped his arm around her, cupping her chin and forcing her head up so that she would look at him.

  “Don’t ever assume you can take down your opponent single-handed. You don’t have the training,” he whispered against her face, watching those gray eyes turn icy with fury.

  She bent over, or tried to, fighting to free herself from his grip. And he’d give her credit for putting up a fair fight. She managed to knock him off balance once, struggling, as she went down on all fours to get free. But he grabbed her leg, sliding her along the ground, until he was able to flip her to her back and land on top of her.

  “If I hadn’t recognized you, I would have shot you on sight,” she told him, her breathing coming heavily, causing her breasts to rise and fall quickly while her long black hair spread around her on the ground.

  He adjusted his body, moving his legs between hers, forcing her legs apart. The fire in her gaze no longer came from fury, although he credited the darker hints of gray prancing around her irises to stubbornness.

  “I’m sure you would have.” He loved the spirit that sang through her, gave her strength, made her defiant. “And then I’d be dead right now instead of on top of you, aching to fuck you.”

  She made another attempt to free herself although he doubted she used half of her strength. “It doesn’t look like there’s a lot I can do to stop you,” she told him, her tone softening, turning sultry, a slight tilt of her mouth proof that she was amused.

  Trent moved to lean on one elbow, stroking her black strands away from her face with one finger. Their silky texture inspired him to run his hands over her head, revel in how soft and feminine she could seem, yet capable of fighting in battle at the same time.

  Dawn ached to lift her head and claim his mouth. The way he looked at her, stroked her skin with his rough fingers, a fire burned out of control inside her that only he could put out.

  But she couldn’t let him see her as weak, incapable of defending herself simply because she’d been raised a slave. She wasn’t sure what he’d overheard. But no matter, he would see her as she was today, not for what
she was brought up to be. And there was only one way to teach a warrior a thing or two.

  His body had relaxed over hers, his cock throbbing hard against her pelvic area. He was so incredibly hard, and not just his shaft but his entire body. Muscles that could have been chiseled from rock stretched the length of his shirt, turning her insides to molten lava. No man had ever displayed such male perfection as Trent Dar did.

  But he needed to be taught a lesson, to be shown that she wasn’t some piece of ass for the taking. He’d seen the sex slaves who relied on her, overheard her talking to her mother’s grave. All of that could be interpreted as weakness in her, and she wouldn’t have him seeing her that way.

  Just when she was sure he would lower his mouth to take hers, she moved quickly, catching him off-guard. Shoving him off of her, she rolled quickly to the side.

  This time she made it to her feet. She flung her hair over her shoulder, moving it quickly out of her way, and positioned herself quickly for his impact.

  “You will never take me without asking,” she hissed at him.

  The fire that raged from his eyes just about made her cum.

  “Every inch of you is asking for it,” he said while a slow grin appeared on his face.

  She fought to control her breathing. He’d have her panting with need if he kept staring at her that way.

  “But you aren’t asking, you’re taking,” she told him.

  Her body shook with anticipation, with excitement, when she made a show of turning around, turning her back to him, tossing her hair over her shoulder with an indifferent air. The muscles in her legs quivered, a thrill running through her that was hard to contain. It was hard to concentrate on her mother’s grave, as she glanced quickly down at it, with her mind racing over the possibilities as to what Trent might do next.

  He was behind her instantly, not touching her but matching her pace, shadowing her while every nerve ending in her body about rippled to the point of overloading.