Slaves of Love

His hands slid across her shoulders and down over her chest to cup each breast in a firm hold. He kneaded them with a pulsing rhythm. Like two pebbles tossed in a pond, waves of arousal radiated from them in mounting need. His hands slid under her breasts, supporting the weight of them, and his thumbs circled over her nipples. Jagged spikes of need shot through her, and she sucked in a ragged breath. He flung his leg over her, straddling her, holding his weight on his knees. He tore off his robe and balled it up before tossing it across the room to fall haphazardly across the settee.

He was fully aroused, and his erection fell across her belly. The heat of his huge cock burned into her flesh, and she wanted to shift and swivel her hips to capture him inside her, to let the heat of it melt the cold that had held her frozen for so long. He leaned over her and licked her nipple, and she thought she’d go insane with wanting. Involuntarily, she arched beneath him, and he pushed her down with his body, his swollen flesh so close to where she wanted it to be.

He tugged her nipple deep into his mouth and suckled, while his hand caressed her other breast, keeping it swollen with need. Switching, he warmed the other with his mouth, then slid his hands down her sides, over her hips. His fingers slid inside her panties, and she felt the slick wetness lubricate his touch. Unerringly, he found the small point of pleasure within her fold and stroked it with the tip of his finger, lightly at first, then more firmly until she could barely catch her breath.

She caught sight of his face once, in her hazy cocoon of need, and his cold, calculating look sent shivers of trepidation through her.

She clamped her eyes shut against that cruel glare.

Images flung themselves against her closed eyelids, dragging her into the agony of memory. She remembered the housekeeper, two years older than her at the time, chained, her clothes torn from her body, a scream tearing from her throat as the first man thrust into her, the sound of his flesh smacking against

hers as he took his pleasure at the cost of her pain. Her screams tore through the night, haunting Shena, turning dreams to nightmares.

His cock nudged at her sensitive, womanly flesh, and ice tore through her insides. In a moment he would plunge into her, causing unbearable pain and blood.

“No!” The sound wailed from her own throat, drawing her back to now.

At his sharp expletive, her eyes snapped open and the evil memories were replaced by the reality of her current situation. Would Keern hurt her like that? Everything she’d learned about him told her he wouldn’t, even in anger, even hating her as he did.

“Dehn’ra!” He flung himself away from her and strode from the room, this time without looking back.

Curled into a tight ball, Shena sobbed herself to sleep. A fitful sleep full of ominous shadows and fear. She awoke with a start, slipping out of the nightmare world into the darkness of reality.

She slid from under the covers and pulled on the remnants of her gown, then moved to the window. The shimmering light of two moons caressed the courtyard below the window. Where had Keern gone? Fear started deep inside her, building up to a steady thrum. What if he’d decided he didn’t want her? He was her only link to her home. If he left her here, she would be stranded on this strange world, destined to live life as a slave. Even with the horrendous memories of her past, she suffered a gnawing desire to return home.

And she wanted to see Keern again. Even if he hated her. Even if he wanted to punish her.

Of course, Keern probably didn’t intend to take her back to Tarun. What did he intend to do with her after he exorcised his need for revenge?

She slipped to the door and slowly turned the knob, being careful not to draw attention from anyone on the other side. She heard men’s voices in the next room as she pushed the door open a crack. One was definitely Keern’s. She peered out the crack and saw Keern and another man sitting in the leather chairs, talking. Keern’s back was to her, but the dark eyes of the stranger shifted, and she thought he stared right at her. She froze, terrified she had revealed herself. Her lungs tightened painfully, and she waited for him to punish her in some way. Would he call the guards and have her dragged away, or simply banish her into the room again?

But his gaze simply returned to Keern. Maybe he hadn’t seen her after all.

“What do I do with her now?” Keern asked.

“Take her home and marry her,” the other man answered.

“That’s insane. I told you, she’s responsible for Will’s death.”

“So punish her by making her keep your house and bear your children.”

“You’re no help, Jak.”

“I am trying, my friend, but you don’t make this easy. You obviously love the woman. I’m trying to help you realize it.”

Shena’s heart thudded. Could it be true?

Chapter Eleven

Keern glared at Jakmerah. The man was a good friend, but did he have to be so overbearing in his opinions?

“I don’t love her.”

Jakmerah made a scoffing sound. “Look, you keep saying she’s responsible for your brother’s death, but she did not wield the sword -- her father did. And you do not know what she told her father because you have not asked her.”

Keern slapped his hands on the arms of the chair and pushed himself to his feet. “She will only lie.” He paced across the room.

“Even if she did tell her father you defiled her, he must not have believed it, because she was sold to the slavers as a virgin, and it is widely known that they verify this. If he believed you stole her innocence, why would he, or anyone in his household, still believe she was pure?”