by Jaid Black
She had been surprised upon seeing it, for she was fairly certain that there hadn’t been such a lush looking bed here when she’d escaped. Which meant that Kerick had acquired it just for her—which also meant that he had spent time thinking about how to make her more comfortable here while they had been separated.
She didn’t know what to make of that fact. She didn’t know how to feel about that fact.
Kerick was an enigma to her. She was wed to him—wed for Cyrus sake!—yet she didn’t even know what his last name was. (Or what her last name now was for that matter.) He was grim and brooding, yet also gentle and protective—she knew he would protect her with his life.
And he was now her husband—her Master. Which meant he would expect her to carry on as his wife. He would expect her to be docile and submissive, to regard his word as law and truth, and to cater to his every desire and whim.
Or at least that’s what she’d been taught at the elite deportment school she had attended all those years ago. For two solid years she had been trained in the art of being a proper wench and wife—trained against her will, of course—so she knew all there was to know about pleasing a Master.
Theoretically speaking, anyway. She had no practical knowledge for she’d never actually been mastered by a male. She’d had obligatory sex with Dr. Lorin, of course, but that was far different from being mastered.
Nellie sighed, rubbing her temples. Did she want to please Kerick? Could she trust him enough to open up to him and ask for his assistance that she might create the serum, or should she carry through with the first plan she had concocted, which consisted of trying to find yet another way to escape him?
She chilled at the thought of how displeased he would be if she tried to run from him again. So far he had dealt with her in an unexpectedly gentle fashion, given that he was a male at any rate, and she had no desire to mess that up.
Nellie knew that one thing was for certain: even if she did manage to escape Kerick again, he’d find a way to hunt her down and bring her back to the catacombs. Only the next time…
She swallowed against the lump in her throat. She knew he wouldn’t be so gentle with her if there was a next time.
Nellie plopped down onto the pillow-bed with a sigh, the sensory chains she once again wore making a jingling sound. She had two choices, she knew. She could run and break his trust or she could stay and try to gain it.
If she ran from him, she would be facing not only his wrath but also the possibility of dying out in the jungle. But if she stayed then she could theoretically be wasting a lot of time because, if after trying to gain his confidence he decided not to help her so she could finish the serum, she’d have to make a run for it anyway.
Nellie bit her lip, weighing the options. Running would be very difficult, especially since the cavern she had found the zida stones in had been sealed off. That meant that the only other true choice was to stay—and hopefully win him over.
Her gaze flicked down to the pillow-bed she was sitting on, her thoughts backtracking to the years she’d spent in deportment school. She knew Kerick would want some pussy when he returned…
Nellie took a deep breath and expelled it, her mind made up. She would stay. She would prove herself to be loyal and obedient in order to gain his trust. And somehow, some way, she would get his help.
Chapter 26
Kerick entered the chamber, his expression remote and grim. He threw a satchel into the corner, then turned to look at her. His steel-gray eyes were as harsh and intense as ever, perhaps more so. Nellie bit her lip as she regarded him, wondering what he was thinking.
“Nellie, stand up.”
The command was barked out, his voice broaching no argument. She immediately complied, determined to gain his confidence. She shot up to her feet from the pillow-bed, then stood there before it as he’d ordered her to do.
Kerick blinked. He looked…confused by her quick compliance. She supposed she couldn’t blame him for that. Cyrus knows she was hardly the docile, biddable type.
His eyes raked over her nude body, hovering at her nipple chains then on downward to the thatch of dark red curls at the apex of her thighs. She cleared her throat and glanced away, uncomfortable with the knowledge that her body had reacted to his stare. “When the Master enters the chamber,” he began, his eyes flicking up to her face, “it is the duty of—”
“Oh yes, I forgot,” Nellie interrupted. Deportment school had been a long time ago after all. “I apologize.”
He blinked again.
Nellie turned on her heel and climbed into the pillow-bed. Her back to him, she got on her hands and knees, pressed her face in close to the bedding, and raised her buttocks high into the air. She even wiggled her butt invitingly, having remembered that small bit of advice doled out by the drill instructor.
Apparently it worked. His next words were spoken thickly.
“Yes—well…that’s good.” She could hear his footfalls growing closer, so she wasn’t surprised when she heard him come to a halt behind her. His callused palms began kneading her lightly tanned buttocks, making her wet.
One of his hands left her buttocks and began stroking her pussy from behind. She moaned, throwing him another inviting butt wiggle.
She heard him sigh as if exasperated, which both confused and embarrassed her. Perhaps she hadn’t done this correctly after all, she thought. Sweet Cyrus, she hadn’t been in deportment school for years! What did the arrogant man expect?
“Nellie,” he barked. “Turn around and face Me.”
She hesitated for a moment, but then complied. Exasperated herself, she threw her hands up in the air, the jarring action causing her nipple chains to make a twinkling sound. “Is this not what You want? What have I done wrong now?”
His jaw clenched. “Perhaps you are doing this just a bit too right,” he hissed.
Now she was the one doing the blinking. “I, um…I do not follow.”
“Where did you learn this!” Kerick bellowed. His nostrils flared. “Who has mastered you before Me? And how is it that you do not bear a brand from any but Me?”
Ah—he was jealous. The outrageous emotion shouldn’t have aroused her, but it did.
Nellie frowned disapprovingly—whether at him for growling at her or at herself for being aroused by an emotion she had no business desiring, she couldn’t say. “So if I was mastered by another, then does that mean You wish to let me take my leave of You and the catacombs?”
His gray eyes narrowed menacingly. “Not a chance,” he said distinctly, each word spaced out. “Not a chance.”
She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “You are the only Master I have ever known,” she admitted.
“Then how—”
“Deportment school.” She shrugged. “My sire sent me to deportment school for two years so I’d know what a Master would expect of me.”
Kerick grunted. He sounded both irritated and appeased. “The males of the biosphere are too weak to break their own wenches?” he asked incredulously. “They rely upon droid schoolmarms to see to the task?”
She nodded. “I suppose that about sums it up, yes.”
He grunted again. “Tell me, are they able to actually fuck their wives, or does it upset their delicate constitutions too much to do that as well?”
Nellie hid a smile. This was the first time Kerick had ever shown a sense of humor in her presence. That he had decided to develop one when she was doing her damnedest to keep her emotional distance was a bit off-putting. “I assume they are able to breed their wives, yes.”
He sighed, surprising her. Kerick wasn’t given to showing weaknesses, and that sigh clearly stated that he was exasperated.
“Nellie…”
“Yes?”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I will be right back.”
She blinked. She was having a kong of a time trying to figure him out. She wanted to ask him where he was going, but decided he probably wouldn’t answer her anyway so why bother
to ask. She’d only get irritated when he didn’t. “Are we not going to eat dinner?” she inquired instead.
Kerick threw a dismissive hand toward the corner of the chamber closest to the door. “In My satchel you will find provisions. Ready them for us to eat and I shall return in a few minutes.”
Nellie had to wonder at the calculating expression on his face, but she said nothing. She nodded instead, leaving it at that. “It will be ready when You return.”
* * * * *
Kerick wanted to hit someone or something—namely the weak male who had sent Nellie to deportment school. Didn’t her sire understand how strong the bonds between the Master and the mastered became when all was said and done? It was a mental process as much as a sexual one—a process he had effectively been robbed of before he’d even known Nellie had existed.
He supposed he could go through the motions of mastering her, yet he doubted the result would be as powerful since she had been desensitized to it at a young age and knew what to expect.
That meant that he needed a new game plan—another way to engage Nellie’s emotions. Docile compliance spawned nothing but stoic acceptance. Emotions—especially extreme, severe emotions—would give him the result he needed to make her cling to him in a short period of time.
He needed her to cling to him. And if he were honest with himself, the reasons weren’t totally for Nellie’s benefit. He had his own selfish reasons for wanting to be cherished by her, though he hated admitting needs so romantic in nature were a part of him.
He realized, of course, that Nellie would prefer to keep her emotions under lock and key…
Kerick’s jaw clenched. He also realized that he’d never allow that to happen.
Chapter 27
January 24, 2250 A.D.
It was a little after midnight when Kerick returned to the chamber. Nellie immediately went to the pillow-bed and got in the head-down-ass-up position. She heard Kerick mutter something about droid schoolmarms, which she found decidedly irritating. There was simply no pleasing the man, she thought with down-turned lips.
“Nellie, come to the table and share dinner with Me,” he rumbled out.
Her belly clamored at the reminder of food. It had been hours since she’d eaten. “Okay.”
When she turned around, the first thing she noticed was that the calculating look Kerick had sported upon leaving the chamber had grown even more acute. She stopped cold in her tracks for a brief moment, a bit alarmed. But not wanting to give away her fright, she quickly recovered and walked the rest of the space that lay between them.
His callused hands found her breasts and began to gently knead them. She blinked a few times in rapid succession, trying her damnedest to ward off the arousal she was experiencing. And then his fingers began to pluck at and tweak her nipples and she knew she was a goner. It was all she could do to not moan like a wanton.
“My rings look beautiful on them,” he murmured, his expression intense and brooding. “I’ve never seen nipples of this rare rouge color before.”
“Oh.” It was all she could think to say. She was having a hard enough of a time trying to keep her eyelids from hooding in desire and her legs from going weak.
He gave her a deeper nipple massage, forcing her to moan for him. “Do you like that?” he murmured, his voice thick. “Would you like to sit on My lap while you eat, that I might massage your nipples and cunt?”
She wanted to scream out a yes, but refused to. It was her objective, she reminded herself, to gain his trust without breaking to his will. “If it pleases You,” Nellie hedged. She closed her eyes briefly, arousal making them difficult to keep open. “Then it would please me as well.”
The next thing she knew she was in his lap with her legs spread wide apart, her back to his chest, while she dined on cheeses, a tasty meat she wasn’t familiar with, and a flat bread. He leisurely toyed with her nipples—plucking at them, plumping them up with his fingers—and occasionally ran a callused hand down her belly, then onward to her cunt to play with it.
Within minutes she’d had her fill of food and was moaning instead of eating. She dropped a piece of meat onto her trencher and turned around in his lap. Straddling him, she could feel his erect cock poking through the black body-molded braies he wore.
“Please,” she whispered, her eyelashes lowered. “Will Master please fuck me?” She ground her hips against him, letting him know how much she wanted it.
“Look Me in the eye,” Kerick murmured. “Always look Me in the eye when asking for a boon.”
A boon? Nellie thought incredulously. A boon? She sighed. Considering how worked up he’d purposely gotten her, it probably was a boon, she thought grimly.
But look him in the eye while asking to be mounted? It was the very thing she didn’t want to do. It was easier to guard oneself, after all, if she could pretend that the man whose confidence she wanted to gain was a nameless, faceless entity.
A fact he was no doubt aware of. Damn him.
No—she couldn’t look him in the eye, she realized. It made her too vulnerable. If he rejected her, which she highly suspected he was going to do in order to prove his power over her, then she would feel humiliated.
Which was no doubt the point of all this, she thought acidly.
His thumb found her clit. He applied pressure to it, rubbing her intimately in lazy, but firm circles.
She gasped, her head falling back and her eyes closing.
His mouth latched around a plump nipple and suckled it vigorously, heady mmm sounds coming from low in his throat while his thumb continued to stroke her clit.
She moaned, her fingers threading through his hair. “Please,” she breathed out. She opened her eyes slowly, hesitantly making eye contact. She swallowed when their gazes clashed, having never felt more naked than she felt at this moment. “Will Master please fuck me?” she asked quietly, her voice vulnerable.
He looked pleased—arrogantly pleased. Her nostrils flared as she looked away, preparing for rejection.
“Of course,” he murmured.
Her breathing stilled. Her head shot back, and she looked at him dumbly. “Err…you will?”
“Yes.” Kerick reached into his braies, freeing his cock. The thick piece of male flesh jutted out from his groin looking ready and eager. “So long as you are honest with Me, and always give Me honest reactions, I will deny you nothing. Save the right to leave Me, of course.”
She wet her lips. She hadn’t been expecting that. “Naked honesty?” she muttered.
He nodded slowly, his steel gray eyes clashing with hers. “Naked honesty,” he murmured.
She cleared her throat and glanced away, unable to hold his gaze. “All right,” she whispered.
Kerick cupped her chin, forcing her head up until she met his gaze again. “Always look Me in the eye,” he reminded her.
It took a long moment, but eventually she nodded. She had no idea why he wanted her to look at him and couldn’t decide what to make of it. “All right,” she repeated, this time meeting his gaze. “Naked honesty.”
His hands found her hips. He nudged her body up, telling Nellie without words to mount him. She did, guiding the opening of her pussy to the head of his cock. She closed her eyes at the same time she threw her hips down, doing her best to impale herself on him. But he stopped her with his hands, his muscled biceps flexing.
“Look at Me while you fuck Me,” he said in low tones. “Do not close your eyes, Nellie. I am your Husband, not a body part.”
She flinched as though she had been struck. This was more difficult than even she had thought it would be, but at the same time she didn’t want him feeling badly because of her. She supposed she shouldn’t care of his feelings, but found that she did.
Nellie opened her eyes, her gaze slowly clashing with his. He allowed her to sink down on him then, which she did, enveloping his cock on a groan.
“Your pussy feels so good,” Kerick murmured, his intense eyes narrowed in desire. One callused h
and came up, threading through her dark red mane of hair. “Cyrus smiled on Me the day he delivered this intelligent, wonderful woman into My safe-keeping.”
She maintained his gaze, but suddenly felt like crying. No male had ever spoken to her so sweetly. No male had ever spoken to her as though she mattered. “Thank you,” she said a bit shakily. She cleared her throat and blinked a few times in rapid succession, trying her best to rein her emotions in.
They began to fuck—slow and leisurely. And always they maintained eye contact. Nellie rode up and down him, moaning as she enveloped his cock into her sticky flesh, over and over, again and again.
And always they maintained eye contact.
Kerick played with her nipples, murmured words of praise and thanks to her, told her how beautiful she was, how much he admired and cherished her…
And always they maintained eye contact.
The naked honesty, Nellie admitted to herself as she threw her hips down and grinded her cunt onto his cock, was getting to her. She’d never felt more vulnerable, more exposed. Everything was right there for him to see—the years of loneliness she’d spent since her father had forced her from Nicoletta, the deep-seated fear of abandonment she’d carried around inside ever since her mother had died, the bleakness she’d felt at knowing she’d never be able to have both her treasured career and the security of family every woman wants…
When you look another person in the eye, there is no way to lie. All of your emotions, all of your vulnerabilities, no matter how greatly you might wish to mask them, are there for the other person to either cherish or tatter.
Kerick was choosing to cherish them. She felt her eyes well up with tears.
“You are so perfect,” he murmured. “Inside and out.”
And then there were his eyes to consider, she thought shakily. They were dead—unless she was around. Bleak—unless she was around. Guarded—unless he was making love to her.
Loneliness—he had known so much loneliness…
A single tear tracked down Kerick’s cheek, causing Nellie to lose it completely. She began to softly cry as she rode him, tears streaming down her face unchecked. “Kerick…”
