“You did say they would, er, ‘work on me’,” Lan’ara reminded him. “I just didn’t know what you meant, my Lord.”
“You really don’t have to call me that, you know,” he rumbled, frowning. “I’m not royalty or nobility or anyone of any special importance.”
“It’s what we were taught to call our owners at the academy,” Lan’ara said softly. “And, well…you bought me. So you own me now, my L—” She broke off abruptly and repeated, “You own me.”
“So I do, I suppose.” He sighed deeply and a troubled look came over his face. “And to think I only meant to stretch my legs and get a bit of fresh air when I went out today. Never meant to spend all my savings on a slave girl, Gods damn me.”
“I can make it worth your while,” Lan’ara said quickly, her heart pounding. “Though I am a virgin, I’ve been trained in all the arts of pleasure, my Lord! I can pleasure you so well you’ll be glad you bought me—I swear it!”
“Is that right?” He studied her with those strange bronze eyes of his and Lan’ara became suddenly aware that she was still standing up in the tub completely naked and on display.
Her nipples tightened in fear and she had the sudden urge to cover herself. Indeed, her hands began creeping up to try and hide her breasts and sex. But then she remembered all over again that her body was not her own—she belonged to the big Kindred now. If he wished to look at her, he would and she must let him. So she forced her arms back to her sides, though her hands curled into fists of effort from holding the embarrassing pose.
For a long, breathless moment the big Kindred’s eyes roved over her bare flesh.
“So you’re offering to pleasure me, are you?” he rumbled softly.
“Yes, my Lord,” Lan’ara said quickly. “Would you like me to use my hands on you? Or perhaps you’re prefer to spill your seed in my mouth or in my…” She hesitated, not wanting to offer herself completely, especially when she was wounded, but knowing she must. “Or in my sex,” she whispered at last. “You can…can take me however you see fit. I am yours—all of me.”
“Take you as I see fit,” he echoed. “Use you like a common whore. Is that what you’re asking me to do?”
“I only seek to give you pleasure, my Lord,” Lan’ara whispered, wondering how she could possibly get on his good side if even the offer of her body made him angry. “I…I don’t want you to regret buying me,” she added softly.
“I already regret it, girl.” He looked up to meet her eyes for a moment and then turned his head abruptly, almost as though he was making a fierce effort to tear his eyes away from her naked body.
“But—” Lan’ara began.
“Sit back down in the water, girl.” His voice, which had become if not friendly, then at least civil, was cold as ice again. “Cover yourself. And don’t worry about pleasing me—I have no interest in using you like that.”
Sensing the shift in his mood, Lan’ara sat back down quickly. Her body had to adjust all over again to the hot water but she kept her face carefully blank and only jumped a little bit when she felt the wash blossoms touching her under the surface again.
“Good.” He nodded, still not looking at her. “Stay there and let the blossoms work on you. I’ll be back in a moment to get you out of the tub and tend to your injuries.”
Then he turned and left the room abruptly, shutting the door behind him.
Lan’ara watched him go, not knowing what to make of him. He acted like he didn’t want to look at her—and yet did want to look at the same time. Why was that? And for a moment it had seemed that he was considering her offer to pleasure him—but the next minute it made him mad. Again, why?
He didn’t care to be flattered or called “my Lord” and he didn’t seem to want to use her body, she thought with despair. How could she possibly satisfy the big Kindred and make him want to keep her if everything she had been taught about pleasing a man didn’t work on him?
Since she had no answer for her new owner’s strange actions, Lan’ara tried to turn her attention back to the bathwater and the wash blossoms.
What else could she do?
Seven
Need paced back and forth across his quarters, running both hands through his hair in agitation.
Damn it, what was wrong with him, ogling the girl like that?
In the ten cycles since Cleah had died, he had been to too many planets to count. And in almost every spaceport there was a Flesh for Sale district—a place where a male could get his shaft sucked or fuck a willing girl for the right price or indulge in any other carnal desire he might have.