She shook off the thoughts. They would not help her survive this. She needed to concentrate on a plan. She had to get free.
~.~
Torturing Lily by withholding her orgasm also tortured him. At least he’d taken the edge off when she’d sucked his horn. Holy Zandian star, he’d never had a femal
e do such a thing—hadn’t even known what it would do to him. Yes, he liked to rub his own horns, and he particularly liked to run them over the flesh of a willing female, but when she’d sucked it into her hot little mouth, he’d been in pure ecstasy. Yes, he planned to make her perform that task at least twice a day until they reached Ocretia.
He looked down at the beautiful little waif padding barefoot beside him.
“You’re more agreeable than I’d expected,” he observed.
She tilted her face up to his, her sensual lips curving into a wry grin. With her free hand, she touched the barcode at the back of her neck. “I’m a slave, aren’t I?”
“Yes, but you’re not particularly subservient, either.” He stopped and pushed her up again the wall, trapping her there to show his far greater strength.
She tilted her lovely face up to his, her green eyes flashing with spirit. He loved that he didn’t find fear or resentment there. Excitement, yes. And curiosity. She liked being his prisoner, he was sure of it.
“I like the rebellion in you,” he rumbled. He was so vecking hard for her again, her scent filling his nostrils, her soft coppery hair brushing his face. “I’m surprised it was never beaten out of you.” The idea of some previous master punishing Lily both enraged and turned him on. He hated to think of any master abusing Lily, yet the idea of taking her to task himself kicked his lust into overdrive.
“I usually hide it better.”
He vecking loved that answer. He heard flirtation in her voice, as if she fully understood his game and wanted to play. “Do you think I should act more slave-like to my new master?”
She knew he didn’t like her calling him that—he could tell by the wicked glint in her eye. Well, he preferred that feistiness to the docile show. He eased away from her and tugged her down the corridor.
He didn’t want her to call him master. That was what Taraw had called him—Depri’s sister, the female he had once loved. Besides, he didn’t believe in keeping slaves. Zandians never had kept another species in slavery—he remembered his father being proud of that, even though it meant his father had to put in hard labor. “Other species would use slaves for physical labor, Rok,” he would say. “But, on Zandia, we aren’t afraid to use our bodies to build things.” His father had been proud of his station, low that it had been. “I built the palace the royal family lives in,” he would say proudly. “I keep things running there. I’m part of a system that works without degrading other beings.”
That was why it had bothered him so much to see the prince with a collar around his human mate.
They entered the kitchen, and he pulled out a meal pack, unwrapped it, and added water to reconstitute it.
Mierna drifted in, a tube of cheap grain alcohol in her hand. “Good,” she said, jerking her head at Lily. “She belongs with you.”
He rolled his eyes. Mierna always had predictions about his future—some great destiny he had to fulfill. Excrement, all of it. He didn’t believe in destiny, and he sure as stars didn’t see any higher purpose in his life. He’d been cobbling together an existence as a smuggler for the past ten solar cycles, and the one thing he’d learned was never to make plans for a future, because excrement happened. He’d learned to play things by the seat of his pants, taking every moment he remained alive as a win.
“You sure she belongs with me? Last time she put a laser gun to my chest and stole my ship.”
The old Venusian nodded sagely. “There will be more trouble before it’s done. Much more.”
Despite his steadfast determination that fate did not exist in a universe of free will, her words made him tighten his lips. Would he have more trouble from Lily?
Probably so.
Her docile demeanor belied a quick-witted and devious character. One not unwilling to sacrifice others for her own gain.
He scowled at her, surprised when she shrank back from him. She was more sensitive to his thoughts than he’d expected. Another reason not to underestimate her.
Which didn’t mean he wouldn’t be sure to wring every bit of pleasure he could out of punishing her.
“Yes, have your fun,” Mierna said, waving her hand as if to dismiss it all. “No harm in it. Both will enjoy.”
He looked back at Lily and wondered if Mierna actually knew what he wanted to do to the human. He rather hoped not.
He handed Lily the paper tray with the reconstituted meal and watched her eat, wondering how else he might torture his little prisoner.
A wicked idea formed in his head. He searched the cabinets until he found the things he wanted—bree oil—a flavoring used by Depri for his food. It had a spicy, warming quality that would work perfectly. He also used a root vegetable as an aromatic spice. It, too, produced heat. Of course, the human was delicate. He’d have to watch her closely. But if it worked, it would be perfect for keeping her on edge.
She finished eating and deposited her waste in the incinerator, which immediately turned it to dust.