Slaves of Love

These soldiers didn’t look like the type who would watch her quietly from a distance, and he couldn’t stand the thought of these oafs catching sight of his lovely maiden, let alone touching her with their large, rough hands.

He had to get back to his wood nymph. He had to protect her.

* * * * *

Shena felt a hand slide around her naked body and pull her backwards against a hard male chest. At the same time, another hand clamped over her mouth, cutting off her scream.

“I won’t hurt you,” a strange male voice promised. The hint of an unfamiliar accent tinged his words. Off-world and educated.

She froze in absolute terror at being held in a man’s grasp while naked and vulnerable. Yet at the same time, the feel of his body against hers set off some very strange feelings. Arousing feelings. Her throat constricted painfully, and she clawed at the steel arm fastened around her waist, desperate to free herself.

His grip tightened, pulling her more firmly against his body.

“Listen to me.” His words rasped in her ear. “There’s a group of soldiers heading this way, so stay still and don’t make any noise. You don’t want to draw their attention.”

Soldiers? She froze in terror.

“They won’t be content to just watch politely, like I did. If I remove my hand from your mouth, do you promise not to scream?”

She nodded. Whether he spoke the truth or not, she didn’t know, but she was too terrified to chance it. He released her mouth, but not her body.

“Let me go,” she demanded, her voice a harsh whisper.

“I don’t think so, neisha.”

His light, teasing tone sent her off balance, and his use of the endearment confused her. Neisha was not a term an off-worlder would use. In fact, with the slight drag on the last syllable ... Could he be a local?

“If I see your luscious body again, I may not be able to control myself.” His words melted through her.

She became aware of her nipples tightening, her vagina contracting. He’d watched her swim. Oh, God, he’d seen her taking pleasure.

Memories of the pleasure rippled through her body, but this time she imagined his gaze as a tangible feeling caressing her body as her fingers caressed her inti

mate self. Images superimposed on her memory, of him leaving his hiding place, of his strong, tanned hands touching her body.

He loosened his hold on her slightly as he used one hand to remove his cape, then eased her away from him just enough to slide it around her shoulders. She grasped it and pulled it close around her, fastening it at the neck. The rich, smooth feel of the fabric, unmistakably ancula, a Tarun fiber, surrounded her with warmth and an odd sense of security. The heady, male scent enveloped her.

He gripped her arm with a gentle but resolute hold and guided her with him into the wooded area overlooking the pond. She struggled, trying to free herself from his grip, desperate to get away from him, her insides shuddering uncontrollably at the powerful and unfamiliar feelings of attraction to him.

His hair, dark brown and wavy, curled around his ears and neck. His warm bronze eyes watched her as he effortlessly guided her along, yet she didn’t feel threatened by his gaze, not like she always did with her father’s men. Their stares, which seemed to strip her of dignity, always frightened her.

“We’ll stay here until they pass,” he said.

“Let me go,” she insisted.

“No. You don’t believe I’m telling the truth about the soldiers. Until you see them with your own eyes, which should be in about five minutes, I’m going to hold tight.”

She was far too conscious of his arm around her waist. His other arm slid around her, and then his hand flattened on her upper chest just below her collarbone, pressing her tight against his strong, broad chest. His leather belt and metal buckle pressed into her lower back, and his pelvis pressed against her buttocks. Only fabric lay between her bare bottom and his ... She felt a blush flame across her face, and she struggled against him. Oh, God, she felt a bulge grow against her. Her movements were arousing him. Blinding fear lanced through her, challenged by a powerful desire to experience the tender loving of a man.

Drawn back to the memory of him watching her earlier, it was far too easy to imagine his chest naked against her swollen breasts, to imagine him moving his pelvis against hers in a forbidden act.

Five minutes in his arms. She didn’t think she’d survive the conflicting feelings wreaking havoc on her sanity. She would find a way out of this. Maybe if she gave him false confidence in her submission ...

“Fine,” she said tightly and slumped against him. As she’d hoped, his hold relaxed a little, and she thrust her elbow into his solar plexus, then pushed back with all her might. He stepped back, regaining his balance, then caught his heel on a rock. They both fell, but she ducked and rolled out of his grasp, then darted into the woods.

She dashed through the trees, intending to retrieve her clothes and race home. Under ordinary circumstances, it was much simpler to swim across the pond, but she couldn’t do that without being spotted by the stranger; he’d catch her for sure. It was a longer, harder route, but after ten minutes, she spotted the burgundy-leafed blazing fire bush alongside the grey-green bark of the two elra trees near where she’d left her things. Her gaze locked to the spot where her clothes should have been. God, they were gone!

Had the stranger taken them? As she stepped from between the trees, searching the ground for any sign of her tunic and tayghas, a leering voice froze her in her tracks.