“It will be no pleasure if I am chained and at my Master’s mercy.”
“No?” There was no cloth as a barrier this time as Jarrod kneaded the firm flesh of her breast. No excuse to touch her but his own raging need. He told himself that he wasn’t really enjoying this slave without permission. He wouldn’t take any pleasure from it. He was simply instructing her. The king would thank him if he knew.
He pinched her nipple and rolled it with his fingers. She gasped and arched into his grasp. She had a responsive body. That would help. “This is not a pleasure? Or this?” He slid his other hand across her stomach and down to the patch of curls between her thighs. The folds of her sex were not too slick, but as he played with the sensitive flesh, her moisture flowed. “Ah, but your body recognizes pleasure. In this life, Princess, you must learn to take your pleasure where you can find it.”
“I can’t!” she cried, but she gasped when he plunged a finger deep into her core.
“Yes, you can.” The chains rattled as he slid between her and the wall. “I’ll show you.” He wrapped his arms around her, nestling her ass against his throbbing cock. He reminded himself that this time was not for his pleasure. All he wanted to do was give this new slave some hope for tomorrow.
She struggled briefly, but stilled as he began to stroke her soft skin. He wrapped one arm around her waist and with the other he began to explore her body. Her skin was softer than any he’d ever touched. The women he’d taken pleasure with had lived lives as hard as he had. He’d never held a soft, pampered, innocent woman in his arms before.
“You have a body made for pleasure,” he whispered, brushing his face against her silky hair. He slid his hand along her abdomen, heading again for that soft patch of curls. She moaned and leaned back, draping her body over his. Her head dropped back, her long hair flowing over his shoulder and brushing against his bare back. He’d never felt anything like it.
Hanna had never felt anything like Jarrod’s rough hands caressing her skin. She knew she shouldn’t like what he was doing. Shouldn’t be aching for more of this incredible friction that was sending waves of sensations over her skin. She shouldn’t be wanting more.
But as soon as she awoke and saw him standing there in the doorway, staring at her, she’d wanted him to touch her again. He wasn’t wearing a shirt and she couldn’t help but admire his sculpted muscles.
The tattoo surprised her. It was all black and covered the entire left side of his chest. It followed the curves of his chest, from his broad shoulder down past his tight nipple. Thick black lines radiated out from a center sunburst design to a circular border, with intricate designs between.
Some people on Vanya decorated their bodies in this way, but Hanna had never seen a tattoo that actually enhanced someone’s body as this one did. It made him look even stronger and sexier. If she ever got out of these cuffs and chains, she hoped she’d get a chance to touch it.
But for now he stood behind her, where she couldn’t see him. He held her tightly around the waist so she didn’t swing helplessly from her chains. Her bare back pressed into his naked chest. His hard strong body held her somewhat steady. And even though his fingers were calloused, he was gentle as he swept his other hand across her abdomen. Hanna didn’t realize how hungry she’d been to be touched. She hadn’t seen her family in years. She had her chores around the palace and her duties to the princess. But no touching was ever involved.
She couldn’t stop what the guard was doing to her, even if she wanted to, so she gave herself up to the sensations. Her sex was throbbing again between her legs. Unable to do anything else, she wriggled her hips, felt his hardness pressing into her. He must have known what she wanted, for he slid his hand between her legs and finally brushed his fingers along that most sensitive flesh.
Hanna sucked in her breath as jolts of desire shot through her body. Her body jerked and she swung from the chains, even with his arm around her. “Oh yes,” she whispered. “More.”
His slow laughter sounded deep and dark as his hot breath brushed against her ear. He removed his hand from between her legs. “It’s not for you to say. Not for you to demand.”
She barely restrained the cry of frustration that wanted to burst from her mouth. Yes. She was the slave. He was the Master. It was up to him, wasn’t it? How much pleasure she received. If she received any pleasure at all. It was what he wanted. Not what she wanted. She had to remember that now.
But he’d said he wanted to show her pleasure, so she tried her best to relax and not let him see how frustrated she was feeling. She hung limply from the shackles, her wrists and ankles burning from rubbing on the hard edges of the metal cuffs.
“Good,” he murmured. He brushed his lips against her neck, the softest touch yet from him. “You’re learning.”
“I just need…I need…” Hanna had no words for what she needed, but her body was on fire.
“Your Master will know what you need. He will let you know when you can come,” he told her. “I’m only a teacher tonight, but you will think of me as your Master for now.” He stroked her hair, her shoulder, then rested his hand against her throat once again. “Do you understand?”
She nodded. “Yes.” He pressed slightly harder. She swallowed. “Yes, Master.”
Hanna thought she felt him tremble before he let up on his hold. “There will be trainers at the slave station, but if you remember what I’ve told you, you’ll have an easier time of it. Do you understand?”
No, but she nodded anyway. She didn’t want to think about Noria or slave stations or what kind of “training” she would be getting there. She didn’t want to think past right now and Jarrod’s hands on her and her body coming alive beneath them.
“Sex isn’t always sweet and gentle. Especially on Noria.” Jarrod grabbed her nipple and twisted. She gasped, but it wasn’t as painful as she thought it would be. In fact, it sent her sex throbbing even more intensely. She instinctively pressed her breast into his hand, silently begging for more. “Ah, you like it a little rough. That will help.”
Shivers skittered against her skin. He pulled and twisted her nipple some more and she cried out, but only partly from the pain. She was becoming overwhelmed by all the sensations bombarding her body.
Her heart pounded in her chest, the pulsing of her blood echoing in her ears. He pulled her more tightly against him, almost lifting her off her feet. He repeatedly pinched her skin as he roamed his other hand over her body, the sharp stings simply sending her senses reeling even higher.
When he slipped his fingers between her legs, she was so wet, the caresses were mere teases. He pulled and tugged on the folds of slick flesh, but avoided the one spot that was becoming the only thing she cared about. The pressure was building inside of her, swirling and pulsing and growing stronger. But not strong enough. She whimpered and tried to push against his hand, but between the chains holding her legs apart and his grasp on her waist, there wasn’t anything she could do.
“Have you ever come, Princess?” he whispered, his voice rough in her ear. “Ever shattered around a man’s hand? Or tongue? Or cock?”
She was panting so hard, she couldn’t speak. She shook her head from side to side, her body searching for something just out of reach. I need…I need…
“Come. Come now.” He scraped that rough finger across the throbbing spot and she came apart in his arms. She had no control over the spasms that rocked her body. Her limbs pulled against the chains, but the pain the cuffs were causing wasn’t enough to override the pleasure dancing through her body. He continued to rub that secret spot even as she jerked against his hard body over and over again.
Finally she couldn’t move any more, her energy spent. He released her and she sagged against the cuffs. And cried out in pain as the metal rubbed her skin raw.
Jarrod cursed. “Sorry.” He’d been so aroused by seeing her come, feeling her come in his arms that he hadn’t been thinking about anything else. He should have been thinking about her comfo
rt first. It was a Master’s responsibility.
He pressed his thumb to the small print pad on one of the wrist cuffs. It opened and her arm fell limply to her side. He released her other wrist. She swayed slightly, leaning against him, but quickly regained her balance. She moaned as she rolled her shoulders.
“Hold on,” he said, then knelt down to release the ankle cuffs. Then he stood and put his arm around her and led her over to the bunk attached to the wall. “Sit here.”
She nodded and sank onto the mattress. He grabbed her hand and studied the red, raw skin. “You broke the skin.” He almost pressed his lips to the raw spot, but caught himself in time and dropped her arm as though it had burned him.
He turned away so he didn’t see her looking up at him with something like hope shining in her eyes. He grabbed the tube he’d brought with him and took a deep breath before he turned back around. He sat down beside her on the bunk and picked up her slender arm again. He brushed his fingers over the reddened skin and she hissed.
“This is one of Noria’s greatest developments. They call it Marvel Cream.” He squeezed out a small amount from the tube. Her body tensed when he began to smooth the cream onto her damaged skin. She cried out when it first touched her, but he felt her begin to relax as he continued to rub her skin with the soothing cream.
“They’ve become one of the richest planets in the Six Systems by exporting it. Have you ever heard of it?”
She shook her head. She looked up from her arm, where she’d been watching him rub the cream. “It doesn’t hurt anymore.”
“Yeah. It can’t mend broken bones or repair internal injuries, but for damage to the skin or muscles, it has become a miracle cure.”
She lifted her arm and stared at her wrist. “The redness is gone? That quickly?”
Jarrod reached across her body to take her other wrist in his hand. He brushed against her tempting breasts and couldn’t even lie to himself and pretend it was accidental. He spread the healing cream on her other wrist.
“These are very minor injuries. More severe cuts and bruises take longer to heal.”
He knelt in front of her and ran his hand down her silky calf until he reached her ankle. As he rubbed the cream into the reddened skin, he tried to ignore her soft, damp pussy. The scent of her arousal fed his desire and his cock throbbed painfully in his pants.
“So this sex planet developed a healing cream like this?”
He circled her slender ankle with his fingers and looked up at her. “Cuffs and chains and whips and clamps leave their marks on a slave’s skin. With this cream, the slave is as good as new for the next person to enjoy.” She shuddered beneath his fingers and he felt no guilt for scaring her. “You need to know this.”
Fear flickered in her eyes. “I can’t do it.”
“You can. And you will.” He slid his hand up her leg until it brushed her soft pussy. Why did he continue to play with fire? It was time to finish this game. He clutched her firm thigh and stared her down. “You don’t have any say, remember? It doesn’t matter what you want anymore.”
“Have you always been so cruel?”
He laughed bitterly. “You have no idea.” He pushed her down onto the bunk and stood up. “I’ll leave you unchained for now, but if you cause any more trouble I can’t help you again.”
“Where are you going?”
The sight of her sprawled on the bed, her naked skin glistening, her breasts plump, her pussy wet and shiny, was almost more than he could handle. He wanted nothing more than to rip open his trousers and plunge his cock into her wet core. The worried expression on her face was what stopped him. He had to get out of here. She couldn’t think she could depend on him for help.
“To do my job. Guard this room. Outside. Get some sleep.”
* * * * *
Hanna couldn’t sleep, even now that she was finally lying on a mattress instead of hanging from chains. She couldn’t stop thinking about the uncertain future ahead of her. And of the man who had just left her.
Jarrod could pretend to be hard-hearted but his touch had been gentle as he healed her injuries. She’d felt him tremble when he touched her. Felt the tender way he’d held her as he pleasured her. The whisper-soft brush of his lips on her skin. He was nothing like the frightening guard who’d brandished a knife and cut her robes off when she tried to escape, even if Jarrod wanted her to think he was.
Jarrod had meant to scare her though, and Hanna knew it was because he was trying to harden her to the realities of the life she was facing. Had he been forced to accept the life he now led?
She wondered what he’d had to do to survive.
She must have fallen asleep for a little while. Her dream of kneeling naked in front of the sexy guard had left her both confused and aroused. The idea of submitting sexually shouldn’t be exciting. She shouldn’t be aroused by the idea of being a sex slave, even in her sleep. What was wrong with her?
She tried to hide her disappointment when it wasn’t Jarrod who came into her room carrying her breakfast. She’d thought Jarrod was big, but this giant with thick blond hair flowing past his shoulders was huge. His sculpted muscles were massive and the bowl holding her breakfast was practically dwarfed in his large hand.
Piercing blue eyes pinned her to the mattress. She wished there was a blanket she could use to cover her nakedness. Since there wasn’t, she sat up and met his stare, lifting her chin to show him she wasn’t terrified, and hoped her lips didn’t tremble.
He silently handed her the bowl. “Thank you,” she said, good manners instilled in her from an early age. She took the bowl, which held some sort of gruel. “Are my women well?” She tried to make the question sound off-hand and then took a large spoonful of the porridge to show she was going to cooperate in exchange for information.
She glanced up to see him nod. “They are fine.” His voice was deep, an unfamiliar accent colored his tones. She wondered which planet he was from. “They are in a holding cell below.” He paused and studied her for a moment. “One of them looks a lot like you. Same long wavy hair of gold. Same tiny body. Your sister?”
Hanna shook her head. “I am an only child.”
The guard shrugged. “She’s bossy. Pleasing to the eye, but has a mouth on her. She will be fun for some Master to train.”
Hanna remembered Jarrod’s words about Masters and training and a slave station waiting at the end of their journey. This guard must be talking about Princess Serena. Hanna had failed in her duty to keep the princess safe. Though she had no appetite, she ate to keep her strength.
“Some of the women are not taking the news of their future as well as others,” the guard said.
Hanna threw the spoon into the bowl. “What do you expect? They’ve been taken from their home and told they are going to be sold as slaves. How would you react?”
He narrowed his eyes and straightened his shoulders even more than they already were. “With pride and dignity. Not cowering in a corner, weeping,”
She set the bowl aside, her stomach twisting, her heart squeezing as she pictured the women she’d grown up with and most likely would never see again.
“I would have behaved as you have, Princess Serena,” the guard said, surprising her. “Fight at first. Then accept and go on. Find a way to make the situation work for you.”
“How can any part of this situation work for me? For any of us?”
“Believe me when I say that most of the sex slaves on Noria enjoy their positions.”
“Enjoy being bound and chained? Enjoy being told what to do for the rest of my life?” But even as the words came out of her mouth, Hanna remembered the pleasure she’d experienced under Jarrod’s hands. She’d been chained then. Yet her body had come alive with the pleasure he brought her.
“Many women, slave or not, find pleasure in the bondage. Find safety and security in the chains and collars and cuffs.” He spoke softly, slowly, seductively. “When the Master takes care of their needs, they have nothing to worry a
bout. Except pleasure.”
Her heart pounded. She remembered Jarrod’s words. “Except pleasing the Master.”
His eyes danced over her naked body. “And by pleasing the Master, you will receive pleasure in return.”
The idea was unthinkable, but Hanna let the guard’s words sink in. Was there truth in what he said? She couldn’t deny the way her body had reacted to Jarrod. The way she had reacted.
“I thought being a slave would be frightening. That Masters are cruel.”
“Did Jarrod tell you that?”
She nodded and then silently cursed the thrill that ran through her from the mere mention of his name.
“Some people are cruel, Master or not. But most Masters are not cruel. They simply have a need to dominate their sexual partners.”
“Like you?” Hanna wasn’t sure where the courage came to question this guard, but beneath his powerful exterior, she sensed his words were meant to reassure her, not frighten her.
“Unlike my friend, I refuse to apologize for my dominant needs.”
“Jarrod is your friend?” She shouldn’t be surprised. They worked here, catching slaves together.
“We’ve known each other a long time.”
Longer than they’d worked on this ship? But she didn’t ask that question. “What’s your name?”
He stared at her for a moment as if deciding whether to answer her or not. As if knowing his name would make a difference somehow. “Micah.”
“So, Micah, have you been any slave’s Master?”
“On many occasions.” His gaze swept over her, but even though she could read his appreciation of her body, it didn’t feel as if his fingers were tracing the path of his gaze along her skin, as it had with Jarrod. Still, her body reacted. Her breasts tingled beneath his gaze. Her sex moistened. Her heart pounded a little faster. “But I assure you,” Micah went on, “that any slave whose body I enjoy receives much pleasure in return.”
Chains of Desire Page 3
