“You break it, you buy it… I mean, that’s what I am now. Like some cheap, porcelain figurine at the store that a kid comes by and smashes.”
He didn’t get what she was saying, simply because the Drunae didn’t have porcelain, nor did they feel the need to decorate their homes with figurines. But he knew what “cheap” meant. “Don’t worry. You’ll go for a good grip of money. Unless they mention that you tried escaping, but… Nah. That’d be hurting them as much as you by lowering your sale value.”
“What, you’re not with them?” she asked.
“Question,” D’Anil reminded her, taking another drink. He nodded his head towards the gag. “I’ll give you one more chance, and only because I’m starting to feel the alcohol.”
Jayne scoffed, “You’re making it really hard to make conversation. Pass the mug.”
They passed it between each other. Jayne was careful about not asking any more questions though by the time D’Anil was getting up for the third refill, she could have asked any question that she wanted to. He was used to drinking alone at nights, sometimes not drinking or sleeping at all if he was on a very important job. But she was good company when she wasn’t interrogating.
He stayed quiet a lot, letting her talk. Jayne got drunk before he did and turned out to be a giggler. She told him about being a teacher, the students she taught. She made jokes about her family and friends, which D’Anil would smile or chuckle to.
As she took the last drink of their fourth cup, both of them leaning against each other’s shoulders, drunkenly noises reached their ears, cutting through their friendly conversation. There were a few screams and cries, moans. D’Anil knew what it was, the smugglers taking the offer to try out whichever product they wanted. His jaw tightened, looking at Jayne from the corner of his eye.
She still had the mug in her hands, her eyes wide. She was completely still, save for her chest moving as she breathed.
“What are they doing?” He didn’t answer her, and he didn’t think she expected him to. “I can’t do this,” Jayne whispered to herself, “I can’t… Shit, what have I gotten myself into this time?”
D’Anil didn’t really think it was fair she was blaming herself. Slaves were never really volunteers, after all. He was bad at comforting people, always had been, and he didn’t know how to make Jayne feel better about what was happening to her. D’Anil didn’t even know why he wanted to try. He had only ever cared about his own wellbeing.
She made it clear within the next minute that she didn’t want his words to comfort her. Jayne launched herself at him, her mouth pressing against his, messy from both being drunk and clearly trying to distract herself from what was going on around her.
He tried to make a bit more sense of it, but he too was drunk, and there was a craving for her lips that he hadn’t realized he had until they were there, soft and warm against his. Her body turned towards him, and D’Anil reached out to place a hand on her hip.
D’Anil deepened the kiss, his tongue tracing along her bottom lip until she opened up to him. Jayne was impatient with her kisses, moaning softly as their tongues battled against one another. “Untie my hands,” she whispered against his lips.
“No,” he answered instantly.
“But I want to touch you,” she argued, pressing kisses down his chin and along his jawline. Jayne threw one leg over him so that she straddled his lap. Grinding herself into him, she moved down his neck. D’Anil groaned, tilting his head back. “Let me touch you…”
Right now, he was drunk and aroused, and he only had just enough sense to make sure he wasn’t getting taken advantage of. D’Anil had only been able to catch her before with his full strength and wit about him. He’d seen the fear in Jayne’s eyes. She wanted to escape. “No,” he insisted, and in an instant, the brunette was on her back, D’Anil turning them over so that he could control her. He pressed his hips into hers firmly, smirking when she gasped from the feeling of his hardness.
Jayne made a noise of frustration, but her hips were still trying to move up into his desperately. She moved her hands up and over his head so that they looped around his neck, bringing him closer.
“Do you know what you’re asking for?” he asked calmly. D’Anil was never the type to sleep with a woman that wouldn’t remember it in the morning. While he didn’t have a strong moral code, he did have a bit of an ego.
“If things don’t go my way, this is going to be the last time I ask for this,” she replied breathlessly, “Just fuck me.”
D’Anil pressed his lips together. Pity. He was feeling pity. There was a long list of things he avoided feeling, and pity was at the top of them. Pity could get in the way of his jobs, of any of them. D’Anil had to stay impartial with his targets – and with the products. Because she was a product, as strange as that seemed after drinking and joking. Get yourself together, he told himself, Get some distance. But it was hard when there was alcohol in his blood and a wanting woman underneath his body.
Jayne took the opportunity of his internal conflict to use her hold on his neck and bring his lips back down. D’Anil made a noise of surprise as she took control of the kiss. Her tongue opened his up, and he could just taste her eagerness, her need. Giving up the fight, he told himself that it was just an added incentive, getting to “try out the product,” like he’d been offered when he accepted the job. It all became a mess after that.
They were out in the open, though most people were at their own fires, or retired to their own tents. Jayne and D’Anil didn’t take the time to find somewhere more hidden.
There was a burning in the both of them, and if they weren’t quick enough, the flames might swallow them both whole. Under the night sky, Jayne tilted her head to the side, moaning as the dark-haired man found her pulse point. His tongue moved in a quick circle around it before he bit down. Jayne gasped and writhed harder, her hips jutting up against the hardness she felt through D’Anil’s trousers.
He undid them quickly, and Jayne used what movement she had beneath him, her toes digging into his hips and pushing his bottoms down. Neither took into account that they were different species.
They looked so similar, the two races, that they almost completely forgot. It wasn’t until D’Anil had her dress hiked up to her hips, which started off as a crisp white but had turned a dingy, light brown from traveling in the sand.
Jayne kissed him eagerly, losing herself in his lips, but he had to tear himself away to slip his hand between them, grabbing his length and directing it to her center. But unlike the Drunae women he was used to being with, he found that Jayne was much warmer. The Drunae were colder in their blood, had to be with the heat of their sun.
Hissing softly from the intense warmth, D’Anil found himself even more excited at the new feeling and thrust himself into her harshly, their hips meeting at the hilt. Jayne cried out, tilting her head to her shoulder to hide the sounds of pleasure. D’Anil growled, his hand moving from between them to force her chin back over so that she faced him.
Jayne’s eyes bore into his, afraid. She didn’t want the others to hear them. She didn’t want to become just a sexual object just yet. His jaw tightened, letting her have what she wanted, instead covering Jayne’s mouth with his own in an angry kiss that she quickly reciprocated to make up for it. This was her only night before she would sign herself away to some other person and submit them to all their kinks and pleasures.
D’Anil didn’t want to be heard either. He could only imagine the smirks and claps on the back of the other men, the smugglers, that would think that he’d joined their little camaraderie. He wasn’t one of them.
Jayne’s fingers wound her way into his dark waves as best as they could while tied, pulling as she moved her hips with his. She moaned against his lips, finding it harder and harder to be quiet. D’Anil lowered his head down to her neck, sucking at her pulse point again. “Think my value will go down if you leave a mark?” she asked, and it was clear in her tone that that was what she wanted,
be it bruises on her hips from his grip or love bites covering her neck.
But that would also bring down the amount he was getting paid. “Don’t worry,” D’Anil murmured, lifting his lips from her skin as he sped up his thrusts, making up for that loss of contact, “My job is not leaving any trace I’ve been here.”
If she was disappointed, she didn’t show it, and that had to do with the speed at which they were moving now. Jayne began to tighten around his length, biting her lip harshly. Her dirt-covered feet curled their toes, and her back arched into him, their chests brushing against one another. Jayne took the opportunity to pull on his neck and capture his lips once more. She came with a scream that was smothered between their lips.
D’Anil grunted at the force of it, as she clenched tighter and tighter around him, her body completely still while lifted off the ground. He pumped into her, feeling his own climax coming, starting with that familiar tension in the stomach. He came inside of her just as her body began to relax and fall back. “Fuck!” D’Anil shouted, his hands trying to find purchase in the sandy ground so that he didn’t leave any bruises on Jayne’s hips.
After his final thrust, the man collapsed, falling to the side of her. Jayne rolled onto her side, caused by her arms still tied around his neck. They both chuckled softly, and he easily lifted them off of him so that they laid back in her lap.
The pair laid in silence, staring up at the starry night sky. Neither moved, both of their bodies feeling like liquid. The only thing was the heaving of their chests as they tried to regain their breath.
Surprisingly, it was D’Anil that broke the silence. “D’Anil,” he said breathlessly, almost too quiet for her to hear, “That’s my name.”
Chapter Four
Dlahik was nothing like Jayne had expected. During her last night of traveling, she’d seen the lights in the sky, and had expected something like Las Vegas, a hidden oasis in the middle of a desert, filled with wealthy people and brilliant colors. But there was nothing of the sort there in Dlahik.
The first part of the city was an outer circle of poverty, it seemed. Mud houses, all square and more like hovels than anything else. The people that inhabited them had cracked, dry lips and rags for clothing. They hardly even went outside, hiding from the heat of the sun. As the group got further into the city, the wealth began to show only a small amount.
There were tall buildings made of glass, glittering in the sunlight, and also a single, large pyramid that towered over the others, as dull as the glass buildings were shiny. But there were no people outside there either, few plants and wildlife, and all the homes around the large, beautiful buildings were filled with the same people from the outer circle.
It wasn’t until the men led them to a group of hovels on the southeast side of the pyramid, the one in the very middle, where they were all set into lines of around fifteen or twenty. Towards the front of her line so that she couldn’t escape, Jayne watched as the men kicked away a beat-up rug, showing a hatch that went below. She memorized every detail of it.
“Get in,” one of them ordered, shoving her by the head down the steps.
Jayne tried to keep her balance, regaining it quickly. D’Anil hadn’t been the kind that pushed her around, simply walked in silence beside her and gave simple orders with a tone that said she better listen or else. The harshest punishment he’d given was the gag, but then Jayne had been warned. She looked back behind her to see if he was even there.
After their night together, he’d immediately gone back to business, even as drunk as he was. It took a few tries, but he’d finally gotten her tied up with a secure knot to a column in one of the huts, falling asleep a few feet away from her. When they’d woken, he was gone, and she’d been left in charge of someone new, the same person that was tossing her around, kicking Jayne in the back.
“Head front,” he barked.
When she looked front, Jayne could see what was so grand about Dlahik now. “It’s underground,” she whispered to herself, and thankful for that too. Jayne was still a bit hungover, and the bright sun hadn’t been doing any good for her headache.
Underground, it really was like an alien version of Las Vegas. They were in some sort of cave, a very deep one at that. There were hundreds of houses, two stories, even three. Each one fully lit up and made of the same dark rock of the walls surrounding them, like they were carved out of the rock itself. Lanterns sprinkled the streets, lighting everything up, almost like a Christmas tree, and there were some buildings that shot straight up through the cave.
Jayne recognized the structural design; the same glass towers that seemed to reach for the stars, even with just the parts of it that were aboveground. She looked for where the pyramid was and saw a glass tube where it ought to be, people going up and down on an elevator within it.
It was beautifully frightening to look at, to see how these people survived and thrived in the shadows.
The women were all led quietly through the streets, broken up into even smaller groups so that they didn’t draw much attention. Their hands were untied, as well, to keep up appearances that they were nothing more than people from the Outside.
“Try anything and I’ll shoot you in the fucking head, got that?” her guard hissed.
Jayne swallowed and nodded. She wasn’t going to try to escape now, not while she was so close to the auction. She had to see what was going on, as scared as she was about her situation.
After he gave the same threat to every other woman in her group, now broken up into six, they started to move. Jayne felt a small hand reach for hers and looked to her right. It was Sophie. Somehow, the girl was still crying, her eyes wet with tears. Jayne wondered how her tear ducts hadn’t completely dried out by now. “You promised you’d get us out of here,” she said.
“I know,” Jayne sighed, looking away from the redhead, “I’m working on it still.”
“Well, you’re running out of time.”
“Look, we’re in their city,” Jayne reminded her, “That means we’re closer to police or the leaders here who can stop this. And this time, if we run, we won’t get lost and die in the desert.”
Sophie opened her mouth to argue, but another voice came through. “No talking! Step away from each other.”
The two women exchanged a sad look, but Jayne tried to smile reassuringly. Sophie fell back behind her, and the two didn’t talk the rest of the way. It would be the last time they talked for a very long time.
They were being taken to a large house. It was only two stories, but it almost took up the entire street and had a perfectly manicured lawn. They weren’t told what it was, but when they got inside, there was furniture that suggested it was an actual home. Servants moved quickly, only glancing briefly as more and more of the slaves filed in.
They were getting ready for something, cleaning every surface and hanging up small decorations in a language that Jayne didn’t exactly know. English speakers hadn’t changed in the fact that they expected everyone else to learn their language while they had no real motivations of learning everyone else’s language.
Any of the women who tried to touch something had their hands beaten away. As they made their way deeper into the home, Jayne passed by smaller rooms with red, sheer curtains. Through the fabric, she saw that they were bedrooms. She only just pieced it together when she saw a beautiful, naked woman pass by them with a man’s hand in hers. The man looked back at the slaves, causing the naked woman to tsk.
“If you want them, you’re going to need to wait for the auction,” she said, in a gentle tone that almost sounded like a lecture. The woman’s almond-shaped eyes flickered over the six, resting on Jayne at the front. “And you’re going to need much more money for a girl with much less abilities than me.”
Brothel. Jayne rolled her eyes as the pair moved into one of the rooms. Her mind tried to decide if it was either brilliant or incredibly stupid to be hiding slaves in a brothel. Of course, with it being a business known for sex work, it would be
easy to disguise the slaves as willing workers.
She was kept busy the rest of the afternoon, as were the others. Each were led into their own back rooms where more sex workers inhabited, though this time they were dressed. “On auction days, our boss has us help with the presentation,” an older woman, probably around 30, told Jayne, as she smeared something dark across her eye lids and pinched her cheeks, “Humans are so easy to work with… All this warm blood, gives so much more color.”
They were bathed, had their hair done, and put in more gowns, though this time they didn’t look like something from a hospital, like the now almost-brown dress that Jayne had been wearing on her trip to Dlahik. Jayne looked at the large mirror in her room. Red had always been her color, complimenting her warm brown hair and eyes, but the fabric was skin-tight, tugging to every curve that she had.
She was used to thinking her breasts were large, but this outfit somehow made them look even bigger. I guess that’s the point though, she thought to herself, watching as her red lips fell in a grimace. The only thing that made her happier was the fact that they were finally giving Jayne shoes.
It was easy to tell when the auction time was nearing. There was an excited energy amongst the sex workers, relaxation amongst the smugglers as they congratulated one another on a job well done. It just made the slaves fall into desperation and nervousness. As they stood off in a hallway, Jayne pressed a reassuring squeeze on Sophie’s shoulder.
The redhead wasn’t crying anymore, and what they had done with her hair, curling it and pinning it up into an elegant up-do, looked amazing with her pale skin and slender neck. Jayne suspected she’d go for a high price, though she hated to think about it with Sophie being so young.
Even Meta stood near them, just a couple people away from them. They were towards the very end, Meta the very last. Whoever ran this was making her the main event, the “wild princess from a land far, far away,” and playing up the fantasy aspect of her. She would be their final showing, just to make sure that the audience stayed long enough to spend all their money and viewed every product.
Alien Romance: Stranded With The Alien Assassin: Scifi Alien Abduction Romance (Alien Romance, Alien Invasion Romance, BBW) (Celestial Mates Book 3) Page 3
