There would be the added bonus that, if she changed her mind and decided to have him, he'd be close at hand. If he didn't murder her sister in her sleep while trying to escape, which would be another lovely possible outcome. Somehow, the idea of saddling her sister with this highly improper mate didn't seem like such a bad thing after all .
"How old is he?" she asked the startled slave trader, still stroking that magnificent cock, loving the sound of his gasping breath behind the gag as she played with him .
"He has nineteen summers, Princess ."
That brought a sly smile to her lips. The idea of her nearly thirty-year-old sister being taken by an eighteen-year-old, distinctly randy, obscenely well-endowed male was infinitely satisfying, even if she did end up bearing his brats. "Any illness that you're aware of ?"
"No, Princess. All of my stock is in perfect health." One of the lesser men on the end began to hack loudly, juicily, belying her words, but Sillandra ignored it .
"How much do you want for him ?"
"Three thousand eirek ."
Sillandra scoffed. "He's been whipped. He's an off-worlder of unknown origins — "
"Begging your pardon, Princess, but he's been saying that he is a prince on another world ."
Her eyebrow rose. "And you believe him? He's obviously either trying to curry favor or sympathy with those lies. I'll give you a thousand ."
"Princess, please, have mercy. It cost me much more than that just to get him here !"
"Fifteen hundred, and not an eirek more ."
The slaver groaned at that pronouncement, but she could hardly refuse to sell to the daughter of the queen. She bowed—in a manner that was altogether more obsequious and much less proper than the way the man whose genitals she held in her hand had just bowed to her—and muttered her thanks, along with something about how she wondered how she was going to feed her daughters after having gotten so little for him .
Now to make sure that their mother didn't find out what she'd done and put a stop to it before their conception night, after which he would be bound to her for the rest of his life .
"All right, I've found him ."
Cika made as if to turn around, but her sister caught her in time. "What are you doing? You know you can't see him before tonight; it would be very bad luck—it could cause infertility, and you don't have much time left along those lines. Why don't you let me see to his preparations for this evening—consider it my gift to you on the auspicious occasion of your finally becoming a woman ."
It was kind of a backhanded compliment, but, considering that she really didn't much care about the proceedings one way or the other, she just nodded her head in agreement. "Thank you. I would appreciate that ."
"It's nothing—after all, we are sisters." Cika didn't see her sister's sly smile, naively hoping that this might be a new beginning between them, a new era of détente and, even, perhaps real, close sisterhood .
She spent the rest of her day trying to be busy, but Mother had disallowed her from going into work, so she ended up just hanging around her spacious rooms, growing more and more nervous. After dinner, she was taken by the woman who was her maid—and had been so since she was a little girl—to her private bath, where she was vigorously washed and scraped and rubbed and lotioned. Her long, silver hair, with its beautiful hints of teal, was washed, towel dried and brushed till it shown .
After this evening, they would want her to cut it, as was the custom, but she kind of liked it long and wasn't sure she was going to conform to that expectation .
She was sitting before the fire in the most throne-like chair she owned, wearing the evening attire that had been in the "wait to mate" box under her bed for more than a decade. It was a very pretty nightgown and frilly robe, and she had settled down to read a book, of course—although she couldn't remember anything of the plot and had had to read several pages over because of her nervousness—when the knock at the door finally came .
Cika was amazed to see that the man her sister had chosen for her was the one she had rescued. And he looked even more virile and potent—and damned near intimidating—than he had at the market. He was now as squeaky clean as she was, smooth shaven and wearing the traditional—if ornate, due to her station—mating garment that covered him from head to foot, leaving only the most strategic area open and accessible, and even that remained covered by an obscenely large, richly jeweled pouch, which matched the jeweled cuffs—with large gold chains between them—at his wrists and ankles .
"He cleaned up quite nicely, didn't he?" Silly asked, and, in her shyness in front of this strange man, Cika missed the way the other woman's eyes roved covetously over the impressive length of him. "He's been chipped, and I had it set at maximum, so that you shouldn't have any problems controlling him," she lied glibly. In truth, although he had been chipped, and she hadn't tampered with any of its other uses, she had personally set the controls—to the tiny but usually very effective little device that was implanted at the back of every male's neck for purposes of behavior modification and, if necessary, complete—if temporary—paralysis—so that she was the only person who could make him feel pain .
When her spoiled, selfish heir apparent, know nothing sister pressed a finger to her own chip, which was in her wrist, in order to correct him, he would feel nothing at all—although Sillandra herself had tried it out on him a few more times than was strictly necessary and—if he was smart, and she had a feeling he might be—he would have learned that women were meant to be obeyed .
What Sillandra wouldn't give to be a fly on the wall this evening! Of course, she was going to grill the man afterwards, which promised to be almost as fun, but not quite as much as seeing what could well be her sister's demise first hand !
"As you can see, he's quite ready to go—you're welcome. That will save you a lot of unnecessary drudgery. He's quite young—which must be somewhat embarrassing for you—and probably very inexperienced. In case you've not been told, all you need to do is — "
"I know what to do!" Cika was sick and tired of her younger sisters telling her what to do, especially in regards to matters such as this. She knew her reaction was stupid and contrary—they were more experienced in this than she was, but still. She was the eldest and detested it when her siblings—especially Silly—lorded her purity over her as if she was some kind of freak .
Never mind that, according to society, she was. She was probably the oldest virgin in the world—she knew that some people called her that—derisively—behind her back, wondering what was wrong with her .
Sillandra nodded her head in a conciliatory fashion, but Cika knew that she was not sincere. What she'd done to make her sister hate her so much she'd never know, but there didn't seem to be any way to heal the rift between them. They were too different, perhaps, to ever be friends .
"Thank you very much for all of your preparations. Please send me the bill for them," Cika murmured, heading towards the door .
Silly followed her without a fuss, thankfully. "Oh, no, sister, I insist—it's my present to you ."
"But his robes look as if they cost a fortune ."
"Hardly that, and your first time should be commemorated and remembered. And the jewels seemed to suit him, somehow." She took one last long, lingering look at what she was leaving in the hands of her inexperienced sister—not even wondering if it was the last time she was going to see her alive—then forced herself to remember that it was in pursuit of a bigger cause and sighed softly, allowing Cika to usher her out .
When Cika finally gotten rid of her sister, she turned and leaned against the door, staring at the broad back of the strange male who was standing in her chambers .
It seemed so awkward and uncomfortable—a man in her bedroom !
And, after a mome
nt, that man had the gall to turn around and continue his awful, impolite habit of staring into her eyes, as if he was not just her equal, but her better .
Chapter 2
I t was then, she realized that—despite all of her bravado, and while she'd asserted the exact opposite to her sister—she really had little idea what to do with him beyond what she'd been taught. That was that he should be bound to the bed, head and foot—the bindings had been installed on her bed since she began to bleed, not that they'd gotten any use—and that she should be on top. On top of what, she was a bit fuzzy about, but she was sure she could figure it out, and she was certain that he would be more than willing to help her do so, since it seemed to her that all men were ever interested in was mating, eating, or sleeping .
And, of course, the chips would act as translators for them both, so that she should be able to—if it was absolutely necessary—describe to him what she wanted him to do, although she couldn't imagine that she was going to want to spend much time talking to the likes of him .
Long moments later, she realized that he was just standing there, staring back at her. "Lower your eyes," she ordered sharply before shouldering herself away from the door, gratified to see that he did exactly as she told him to do. This might be easier than she thought .
"Were you told why you were brought here ?"
His head came up again, although he very carefully avoided meeting her gaze, but she would have sworn she detected just the faintest hint of a smile on his lips. "As I understand it, I am to be your mate," he responded .
Cika was intrigued. He was surprisingly well-spoken—and his voice—deep and dark and somewhat mysterious as it was—did things to her that no one's ever had, much less a man's. It made her stomach—and distinctly not her stomach—feel tight with not just nervousness, but something else, a different kind of warmth or something she hadn't encountered before that wasn't altogether unpleasant, she had to admit to herself .
"Well, I suppose we should just get this over with," she mumbled to herself .
"Not if you wish to enjoy this, my queen," he stated smoothly, as if he knew exactly what he was talking about .
"Who gave you permission to speak, slave?" she commanded in what she hoped was an imperious manner, almost cringing at how much she sounded like both her mother and her middle sister, but then he wouldn't know that .
He didn't look a bit abashed when he responded, "No one, my queen — "
"I am not a queen," Cika corrected. "I am the Princess Royale of the House of the Great and Noble Queen Raythe, Ruler of all of Aristol ."
He bowed as low to her, and as elegantly, as his chains would allow. "My apologies for my miscalculation, as well as my boldness in addressing you, Great Princess ."
His tone and words went a long way towards mollifying her, as she wasn't used to being angry or demanding all the time, unlike some who were close to her .
"But if I may be given leave to speak?" he pushed .
He stopped there, and it took her a minute to realize that he was waiting for her to give him permission to do so .
She waved her hand at him as she sank down into the chair she'd recently vacated .
He turned to face her. "Far be it for me to presume that I—a mere slave—would know more than you do about anything, but I have the sense that you might not be as well versed in matters such as these as you might wish to be." He paused there deliberately, for effect, adding, "Nor as I am ."
"Of what matters do you speak, slave ?"
The bold devil met her eyes as he answered, slowly, deliberately, "Why, those of mating, of course ."
She couldn't stop herself from blushing brightly, barely believing that she was having this conversation with him at all .
"You see, if I may be so bold — "
"Why not? Nothing's stopped you up to this point," Cika commented dryly .
He had the grace to color a bit then continued, "You see, just getting it over with will leave you at a terrible deficit ."
She was intrigued, she had to admit—at least to herself. "How so, pray tell ?"
"May I approach, Princess?" he asked, trying to make himself appear as small as he could, so as not to put her off the idea .
"You may, but not too close ."
He shuffled—surprisingly gracefully, as if he was merely performing prescribed dance steps—to stand not three feet away from her, his height and blatant masculinity making her feel very small and not just a bit overwhelmed, although she tried to squelch the feelings. After all, she had the ultimate control at her fingertips, if he actually risked his life and got out of hand .
"I don't know what you've been told or how you've been educated about the subject ."
"Apparently not as well as you have, but go on ."
"Well, Princess, I am not only educated in the matter, I am quite well experienced. I have been taking women since my sixteenth birthday, as is the custom on the planet from which I come ."
"'Taking women'?" Cika's eyebrows almost met her hairline as she bristled .
His blush brightened again. "A poor choice of words, but then, one I would hope I could be forgiven for, because on my planet, it is women who are bred by their masters—their husbands—rather than the other way around ."
Cika found herself sitting up more attentively in her chair at his words. "It is a man's world, then? Even a very young man's, such as yourself ?"
The slave nodded, showing a hint of a smile again. "Yes, Princess. Men—officially once they are eighteen, but even before that, in most cases—are in charge ."
She had read a book once that had that preposterous premise—when she was much younger—but her mother had seen her reading it and had literally snatched it out of her hands when she had barely begun it, throwing it into the fire right in front of her, as she said it contained seditious ideas. That book had made her feel then the way he was making her feel now, though, she realized with a start .
"How horrible!" she exclaimed, hoping it came across as genuine. "And I suppose that your poor women are treated as slaves, too ?"
"There are pockets of that, yes, although my father, the king, has fought all of his life to try to eradicate those who would reduce women to such ."
"But that is not the prevailing attitude towards them in your father's little kingdom?" Cika made certain that her tone would convey to him just how absurd she found his tale. Why this subject intrigued her so, she would never know. He was obviously delusional, believing himself a prince, as she'd known, but she couldn't seem to stop herself from inquiring about a society—even a fake one—that was such a polar opposite from the one in which she lived .
"No, in our society, women are to be protected and revered, respected and loved and cared for ."
"Are they, then, equal to men ?"
He seemed a bit discomfited by her question. "No, Princess, I wouldn't quite say that they are ."
"In what way are they treated differently ?"
His eyes darted to hers for less than a second, and he bowed his head before raising it again to answer her clearly. "They are more than children, but less than men. Their husbands are their masters, and they are expected to obey them—it is a part of the ceremony that binds them together that they must vow that they will submit themselves to the man whose work houses, protects and feeds both her and any children they might have ."
Cika's eyes flared wide. "And they agree to such terrible restrictions of their freedoms ?"
"They do, I believe, because the vast majority of men on my planet care deeply for their wives and—although they might punish them from time to time as they see fit—they only want what's be
st for them ."
She gripped the arms of her chair unconsciously. "They are beaten, then, as you have been ?"
"No—at least, they should not be. Such—if you would excuse my expression—barbaric means of punishment should never be used on a female, and, if discovered by the authorities, would result in the husband being jailed, the wife being granted an immediate divorce and the state assuming responsibility for her as well as her children until such time as she may find another husband. It would be much more common that a wife would be spanked or paddled or switched or caned on her bottom ."
For some reason, that idea had her fuming—it stirred up more and more of those unfamiliar sensations he was inspiring with his tale, and that annoyed her, too. "Those are methods of training the young, not women !"
His smile was less than apologetic. "As I said, more than children, but less than men—although still very valued and respected. After all, without women, there would be no men ."
Cika stood and began pacing. "I cannot believe that any self-respecting woman would allow herself to be subjected to such demeaning, highly embarrassing forms of discipline—and by a man! It is one thing to be physically chastised by one's mother while growing up, but it's an entirely different thing to allow an inferior such as a man to lay his hands on a full-grown woman to correct her in any way whatsoever, much less as one would a child !"
It made her even angrier than he didn't answer her accusation in any way .
"Well? Will you not defend your warped parody of a civilization—such as it is?" she demanded derisively .
A Most Unsuitable Mate Page 2
