by Joanna Wylde
When she reached the suite’s door, Calla didn’t bother to knock before placing her hand against the palm plate to open it. There was never anyone there during the day, anyway. As she walked in, she banged her basket on the door frame, dropping several towels on the floor. Carefully balancing the large basket against her small, compact frame, she knelt down, reaching for the towels.
The action was just enough to loosen the knot dark brown hair at her nape, and the entire mass of unruly curls came off her head and down before her eyes. She fought with it for a few seconds, then gave into the inevitable and set down the basket. She’d have to braid it to get it out of the way now, she thought with disgust. She hated doing that, because braids, combined with her youthful features and the smattering of freckles across her nose, always made her look like a 12-year-old. Not that she had anybody to impress, anyway, so it really didn’t matter she reminded herself wryly.
As she braided the long mass with swift fingers, she heard a sound come from the other room. She froze in place, heart thumping. After a moment’s silence she laughed nervously to herself, convinced she had imagined it. Perhaps the long hours were getting to her…
Moving quickly and efficiently once her hair was out of the way, she set her basket on a low table, picked out a set of linens and headed toward the bedroom. As she opened the door a pair of strong arms grabbed her from behind, and she was pulled back against a large, unyielding form. Calla tried to scream, but the noise was instantly muffled by a hand that covered her face. Something sharp pricked her neck, and she knew she was in big trouble.
“What are you doing here?” a deep voice whispered harshly in her ear. Calla tried to answer, but her captor’s hand still covered her mouth. “I’ll let you speak, but if you scream I’ll cut your throat. Don’t try to play games with me.”
“I-I-I’m C-C-Calla,” she said, stuttering slightly in fear. The blade pressed more sharply against her neck. “I w-w-work here, I clean the rooms.”
The man’s hand and arm slipped lower, clasping her across her chest and effectively pinning both her arms. His body was hard against her back, his arm a band of iron trapping her. Even if he wasn’t holding a knife to her throat, there was no way she’d be able to get away from him.
“I gave strict orders to Mistress Jenner not to have anyone come in here today. I’m going to check your story out,” he said, arms not moving an inch. “If you’re lying, this is the time to tell me. Otherwise I’ll kill you.”
“I’m not lying,” Calla whispered. She could scarcely breath, she was so frightened. He would do it, he would actually kill her. She could tell from his voice that he was serious.
The man keyed a small comset attached to his shoulder with his chin. “Tiernan, this is Seth. I’ve caught a woman going through my room.” he said. “She claims to work for the hostel. Her name is Calla. Can you confirm this for me?”
“Yes, sir,” Tiernan answered, his voice sounding tinny through the tiny speaker.
Calla assumed he was one of the men guarding the hostel’s entrances. He should be able to confirm her identity, although he couldn’t go quickly enough for her comfort … Until then, it was clear that the man had no intention of letting her go. His arms remained inflexible as steel—there would be no escaping.
She could feel the entire length of his body against her back, solid as a wall. His breathing was steady and sure, although every muscle was tense and ready for action. Then she felt something pressing against the small of her back. With a shock, she realized her captor was becoming aroused as he held her against his body. Fear swept through her—if he wanted her, there was nothing to stop him. Mistress Jenner certainly wouldn’t come to save her, even if orders hadn’t been given to stay out of the suite. Stay calm, Calla told herself. This will pass if you just stay calm.
Seth’s erection was quite obvious now, jutting insistently against her. She tried to edge her lower body away from him slightly, but his grip tightened instantly.
“I told you not to move,” he said in a menacing tone. His breath was coming a little faster now. Holding the knife steady at her throat, he moved his hand from her upper arm to slide slowly down her chest. It slowed at her breast, cupping her gently. Using his thumb and finger, he plucked softly at her nipple, sending a whisper of sensation through Calla’s body. It felt exquisite. There was something strangely sexy about being held like this, she thought. The realization was simultaneously disgusting and compelling.
After a few seconds, his hand left her breast to slide lower, stopping just below her slightly rounded belly. Pressing with the palm of his hand, the man rubbed her body gently against his cock. One finger reached down toward her clit, and even with the layers of cloth between them Calla gasped slightly at the touch. She was afraid of him, but excited, too. He still held a blade to her throat, and she didn’t doubt that he’d use it if he needed too, but he was also attracted to her. He held most of the power in the situation, but some small part of it was hers—he wanted her, Calla, the slave.
With a shock, she realized she wanted him, too. A tendril of sensation coiled through her at his touch, and she could feel moisture gather between her legs. Without pausing to consider the consequences of her actions, she relaxed against him slightly, allowing her legs to shift restlessly. It surprised him, Calla could tell, because he stopped breathing for a moment.
She watched as he moved the knife from her throat. He set it down on a small table beside them before reaching back to her aching breast. He started rocking the aroused length of his cock against her again, one hand massaging her breast while the other focused attention between her legs. His large fingers moved back and forth, pushing the rough fabric of her undergarments across her most sensitive spot. It felt so good it was almost painful.
A pressure was building in her body, and while she was still far from coming, she let out a little moan. She simply had to have more. Without thinking, Calla whispered, “I want to do more than this.”
The man holding her must have felt the same way, because he groaned into her hair and thrust sharply against her with his cock. Using both arms, he crushed her against his body, lifting her so that he would be cradled against her butt.
The feeling of him there, so close to where she wanted him, was almost too much. Calla moaned a little, trying to convey her urgency. She wanted him. Now.
Spurred on by the noise, Seth carried her toward the large bed in the center of the room.
It was still mussed from his sleep the night before and the thought of his body lying there caused a rush of moisture in between her legs. In mere moments she would be experiencing that body for herself, and she was ready. His hard length pressed against her with every step; Calla’s muscles clenched involuntarily in anticipation.
When they reached the bed, he pushed her roughly forward and she fell on her stomach. Before she could even start to crawl into a different position, her skirts were up around her head, tangling her hands and immobilizing her. His large, fingers felt roughly for the moist entrance to her cunt. Calla moaned and pressed back against him. She was ready for him.
Then his fingers were replaced by something much larger and his cock pushed against her opening. Both of his hands went to her hips, lifting them high and bracing her slight frame for what was to happen next. Calla couldn’t see a thing, but he felt enormous and she briefly wondered whether he would fit.
Then her question was answered as he gave a powerful thrust against her. Goddess, he was huge. It felt like someone was shoving a battering ram up her cunt, and she cried out in pain and shock. She’d never felt a man like this one before.
At her cry, the man withdrew partially and paused to massage her clit. The feel of his fingers was heavenly, and within in seconds Calla was squirming against him. Somehow she managed to free her arms enough to raise herself on to her elbows, and she used the leverage to push back toward him with a whimper, yearning for him to fill her again. It was unlike any sexual experience she’d ever had. S
he needed him, wanted him, had to have him.
Seth starting thrusting again, moving more quickly as the tide of lust swept through them. He pushed into her again and again, grunting harshly with the effort.
Something was building in her body; she needed more, had to have it because the pressure was too much. Then it crashed through her, and she screamed out in shock and pleasure. Her arms, unable to support her weight, collapsed, causing her upper body to fall forward. Her hips remained high, held in the man’s strong hands as he continued to pump his large cock into her. He moved faster and faster, squeezing her hips with his hands almost to the point of pain as he shouted out his own pleasure. Calla could feel the hot spurt of moisture deep within her body, then the weight of his spent body came down on her, all but crushing her. His breath was hot against the back of her neck, arms splayed on either side of her.
They lay there for a second, both struggling to regain their composure. Then the door crashed open and Calla heard someone call out, “Seth, are you all right? I couldn’t raise you on the com!”
“I’m fine,” the man said. He raised himself up on one elbow to look at whoever was in the room with them, the fingers of one hand slipping beneath her body to absently toy with her clit.
Little curls of pleasure at his touch coursed through her, and she shuddered lightly. Then Calla realized with sudden horror that she was still naked to the waist, completely exposed to both men. She started struggling upright but the man—Seth—was still fully imbedded in her and far to heavy to shift.
“Did you check on the woman’s identity?” Seth asked, comfortable in front of his subordinate despite his partial nudity.
Calla moaned, a combination of pleasure and embarrassment, as his fondling continued.
“Yes, sir,” the young man said. “She’s a slave here. Apparently no one remembered to tell her not to clean today.”
“Thank you,” Seth said. “You’re dismissed.”
The door closed and they were alone again. Calla wished she could sink into the mattress and disappear forever, she was so embarrassed. Instead she said firmly, “Please let me up now.”
“Of course,” he said, sounding far more relaxed than when he’d caught her entering the room. His hand moved from her clit, and he pulled out of her. “I’d like to take a closer look at you. I haven’t had a fuck like that in years.”
Calla fought to keep in a hysterical giggle. She hadn’t had a fuck like that in years, either, but she was horrified with her situation. Not least of her worries was whether Jenner would find out. The mistress had strong feelings about how unmarried women should behave, and those feelings didn’t leave any room for encounters like this one. Not even for slaves.
More than one woman had been sold to a brothel after being caught in bed with a guest—and not a Guild-owned pleasure house, either. The last girl had been sold to a pimp who worked out of a seedy bar near the space port. The poor thing had been dead within a week. Jenner couldn’t find out about this no matter what it took, Calla thought with conviction. She had to get out of here and pretend nothing had happened. She needed to keep the commander quiet about the encounter, too.
Sitting up, Calla reluctantly faced the man whose seed was still warm in her body. He sat next to her on the bed, trousers open and pulled slightly down. Her eyes strayed down to his still-stiff cock, then quickly flew up to his face. His skin was slightly dark-toned, and his shoulder-length hair was almost black. His eyes were black as well, and they stared at her intently. He reached one finger out and gently pulled up her chin.
“You’re a cute one, Calla,” he said. “I may have to keep you for a while.”
There was no way Jenner would go for that, Calla realized, clamping down firmly on another hysterical giggle that threatened to escape. Oh no, not a good idea at all …
“I need to go, I have work to do,” she said. He frowned at her. Unable to help herself, Calla’s gaze was drawn to his mouth. His lips were full and soft looking, a little grin playing at the corners. What she really wanted, Calla realized, was to lean over and bite the lower one … Another bad idea. Things were definitely out of hand.
“When can you come back?” he asked bluntly. “I’m not done with you.”
“I can’t come back,” Calla said. No matter how much pleasure this man had given her, she couldn’t afford to anger Jenner. His hand grasped her chin hard now, forcing her to meet his eyes. He had lost his open, pleasant smile. She had to think of a way to get rid of him and keep him quiet, too.
“Why not? I’m prepared to compensate you.”
“I’m married,” she said, thinking quickly. “His name is Jess, and if he finds out what happened here it would kill him. I didn’t mean to have sex with you, it was an accident.” It was a stroke of genius, Calla thought. Or at least it would be if the Saurellian was willing to respect a slave’s wedding vow. Jess was like a brother, they’d been raised together in the same crèche. He would lie to protect her without question. Since slave marriages weren’t recorded, the Saurellian would never know the difference. Seth’s hand tightened on her chin, and a dark look swept across his face, scaring her with its intensity. He was angry, she realized. His eyes flashed.
“I see,” he said tightly, then abruptly let her go and stood up and paced across the room. His intense gaze followed her, and a muscle worked tightly in his jaw. “Get out.”
Calla quickly stood up, not about to argue. It seemed like she might yet escape this horrible situation—she certainly wasn’t going to give him time to change his mind. Moving quickly, she paused to pick up her basket and gather the fallen linens. Seth watched for a few seconds while she collected her things. Then he repeated his terse order.
“I said get out.”
Dropping the linens, Calla did as she was told.
* * * * *
It took every ounce of Seth’s strength to let Calla leave. He couldn’t believe she was married. The mere thought of another man touching her made him want to smash his fist through the wall. He’d kill him, Seth thought. He’d kill him, and take Calla.
Then he caught himself, disgusted by his own thoughts. It wasn’t as if she was his life mate, he reminded himself. She was just a slave on a third-rate, back-world mining station. He could have any woman on the station he wanted. What use did he have for one little slave? If anything, he should feel sorry for the poor bastard she was married to. After all, he’d just fucked her silly and she hadn’t exactly protested. In fact, she screamed her pleasure when she came. Who knew how many times she’d done the same thing with other guests? Seth could probably have her again if he really wanted, but he didn’t get involved with married women, even if they were only slaves. He liked his relationships open and simple, preferring to pay good money to get good service.
Seth prowled around his room another hour, then decided he needed to get out. He’d hoped to catch up on his reports to the Saurellian High Council. He was concerned about rumors that some mining camp factions calling themselves “pilgrims” were hoarding weapons. With a snort of disgust, Seth realized he wasn’t going to be able to focus after his romp with the cleaning slave. Instead he’d go and check the patrols, and maybe even head over to the House of Lilies. He’d find a woman there who’d make Calla look like the little nothing she was. It was definitely time to seek out the services of a professional.
Chapter Two
When Calla collapsed, exhausted, onto her pallet in the kitchen that night, she couldn’t fall asleep. Just thinking about Seth’s hands on her hips, holding her while he pounded into her from behind, sent little shudders of pleasure through her. She was still sore from that morning, yet she ached from wanting more. He’d watched her with an intensity she’d never seen before. When she’d told him she was married, he’d looked ready to hit something. Or someone. She couldn’t afford to have him find out she’d been lying to him. For all she knew, he might kill her.
The Saurellians were crazy, everybody said so. They fought hard, they fu
cked hard and they were ruthless with their enemies. Without being told, Calla knew that a woman who lied to their commander would be one of those enemies. Rolling over on her pallet, she pillowed her head against her arm, willing the pleasurable sensations in her body to go away. It didn’t matter how much she wanted to go back to his room. It was too dangerous. Even if he didn’t kill her, Jenner would sell her in a heartbeat if she found out what Calla had done. Even death would be better than spending the rest of her life on her back in a mining-camp crib.
Calla slept restlessly and woke up tired. She had plenty of work to do. Even conquering warriors had to eat, and it was her turn to check on the availability of supplies at the market. The bulk of their food at the hostel was delivered each week, but since war had come to their system Mistress Jenner had sent Calla or one of the girls each day to see what was available on the black market. Supply lines were up and running now that the Saurellians had occupied the station, but there were still good deals to be found if you were resourceful enough. Calla was very resourceful.
Slipping out the back of the hostel, Calla pulled a shawl over her head and made her way down a side corridor toward the central market. It was always safer to go out covered; she might not be much to look at, but more than one slave woman of even average appearance had disappeared in the station’s back corridors. It was best not to take any chances. She was also concerned about running into Seth, but once she thought about it, she realized she had never seen him before yesterday. He was probably too important to spend his time on guard duty at the hostel, anyway. Bumping into him wouldn’t be a problem, she assured herself.
The marketplace was centrally located in the station, making it easy for Calla catch a ride with one of the small transports that regularly moved through the station’s main corridors. In less than ten minutes she arrived at the market, where she quickly hit all of her usual stops and arranged for the deliveries. Jenner gave Calla full bargaining authority, but no one got their credits until the goods arrived at the hostel. A slave might be trusted to run errands and negotiate for supplies, Calla thought bitterly, but she would never be trusted with actual money.
