The Starlight Rite

by Cherise Sinclair

  “Here, your maline”—he pressed his palm to the V between her legs, making her clench inside—“which you Earthers call a pussy.” Again he stroked his finger over that tiny sensitive place, the nub in the center of her. He repeated the movement, sliding up and over the…clit…until her hips wiggled up every time he touched her there.

  What was happening to her? She pulled at the cuffs on her wrists. “Please. I can’t take this.”

  He never stopped. “Oh, you can, little thief. You will.”

  Her whole private place throbbed with need. As his finger kept circling, she felt her clit swell, becoming painfully tight. And then, to her disbelief, he leaned forward and touched her there with his tongue. Wet. Hot.

  She froze. “You… No, you must not.” She tried to close her legs, kick him away. He rested his forearms on her thighs, pinning her legs with his weight, and continued. The forbidden sensation felt so exquisite, and a moan escaped her.

  He laughed, the vibrations transmitted to that spot, and she shivered. He flicked across her, tiny touches with his tongue, teasing until her center pulsed, and her world contracted to only that awareness. And then his tongue stroked across her, long and wet. Over and over.

  Her whole body tightened, and her leg muscles quivered as her insides clenched harder and harder. She needed…something. She heard herself whimper.

  “You taste so sweet,” he murmured. “But perhaps I’ve tormented you long enough.” His lips closed over her exquisitely sensitive clit, and—oh Prophet—he sucked hard.

  She gasped, feeling everything tighten…tighten.

  And then he plunged two fingers right inside her.

  “Aaa…aaa…aaa…” Incredible pleasure ripped outward, splintering her world into pieces, and she arched, gasping for breath. Her hips jerked uncontrollably as he moved his fingers in and out, her insides spasming around him. Lightning flashed through her, sizzling right to her fingertips.

  He licked over her, and another surge of ecstasy hit her.

  The room wavered in her vision; she couldn’t feel anything except him and his touch. Her heart pounded like a bass drum as she tried to control her gasping breaths. A moment passed…or more? She blinked at the strong face over hers.

  His cheek creased as he smiled. “You still with me, little thief?”

  She sighed, realizing every muscle in her body had gone limp. The horrible burning need had disappeared. “Thank you.”

  Except he’d chained her… She realized he’d freed her arms. Her hands rested on his wide shoulders, and she dug her fingers into the muscles as she remembered the rest of what he’d done. “That… You should never… You used your mouth…” The shepherds would have flogged him and driven him from the temple.

  “Earther,” he murmured. He rubbed his cheek against hers and then rolled on his back, placing her on top, smoothing her onto his chest like a blanket. His big hand cupped her head and urged it down into the hollow of his shoulder. “This is Nexus, and what I did is completely normal here. Expected.” He chuckled and added, “Even demanded at times.”

  What he meant by that, she didn’t know, but she was too comfortable to protest. With her cheek pillowed on his chest, she listened to the slow thud of his heart.

  “Your first day as a sex slave is almost over. Only thirty-eight to go.” When he rubbed her shoulder and slid his hand down her arm, she was so weak in character that she found his touch comforting.

  “What a horrible day.” All those men, touching her. And the way she’d responded, had to respond—that seemed even worse. She stiffened at a nasty thought. “You don’t use that drug here, do you?”

  “I don’t use aphrodica for my pleasure, no. I prefer honest desire.” He paused, stroking her hair gently. “Some people use it as a punishment.”

  She closed the hand that lay on his chest into a fist. “Punishment?”

  “An alternative to beatings.”

  Mella shivered. How would she ever come to terms with someone having such control over her life? Thirty-eight more days. She’d have to make sure she never earned any punishment.

  Her eyes drifted closed, and she lay still, trying not to notice how comfortable she felt. How safe after the trauma of her day.

  And suddenly her body turned on as if someone had flipped a switch. Everywhere his hand touched her became sensitive. Her breasts burned at the heat of his skin. Her groin moved, rubbing against his thigh, and she stiffened. The drug’s effects had returned. “No,” she whispered. “Oh no.”

  “Ah.” He slid his hand from her shoulder to her breast, and the nipple hardened in his palm. When he rolled it between his fingers, she arched uncontrollably.

  “How long does this last?” Even as she asked, she slid her palms up his arms, savoring the granitelike muscles. She needed his hands on her skin. Needed… No. Stop this. Don’t give in.

  “It’s different for each person. We’ll have to…ride it out,” he said and rolled on top of her.

  She gasped at the thrilling sensation of his hard body against hers. “What are you…?”

  He nudged her legs apart, and with one hand, he slid his shaft into her.

  “Aaah!” The jolt of his entry reverberated through her body in pulsing pleasure. But then he continued to push into her, stretching her with his size. Too big, too full. “No,” she gasped, shoving against his shoulders.

  He stopped. Keeping most of his weight on his good knee, he propped himself up on one elbow. He used the other hand to tilt her chin up, capturing her gaze. “Easy, laria. Your body will adjust. Is your man so small, or has it been a long time?”

  “A long time.” A year of desolation and—

  He considered her for a moment. “You will tell me more of this long time later. For now…” He moved into her farther, and she caught her breath at the feel of his erection bumping against her womb. She felt so invaded, as if he’d taken her whole body for his own. But he stopped and waited, his body over hers, his chest touching her breasts. The discomfort lessened, disappearing to be replaced by something else. Something urgent. She needed…

  His eyes had never left hers, and now his lips curved into a faint smile. He withdrew, ever so slowly. As he did, he took her lips in a hard kiss. His tongue entered her even as he surged back into her. A moan escaped her. The feeling of his thick shaft sliding between her swollen tissues was indescribable, and her hands closed on his shoulders.

  He didn’t release into her as she expected. Instead he kept thrusting in a hard, fast rhythm with both tongue and shaft, until she was panting, hovering right on a pinnacle. Her thighs quivered as she tried to make him move faster, harder. More…more something. Her fingers dug into muscles as hard as hull plating.

  He slowed, pulled back to lick her lips and whisper against them. “You feel like a man’s finest dream. I would enjoy continuing all night, but you wouldn’t be able to walk in the morning.” Lifting his hips slightly, he reached down, stroking his hand through her wet folds and sliding his fingers over that place. Her clit.

  Oh Prophet. Her head tipped back as sensations shot through her, as the whole center of her tightened around him with burning need.

  Giving a low growl, he thrust into her hard and fast even as his fingers closed on her clit, pinching it gently. The noise she made disappeared in the roaring ecstasy that rushed through her as every nerve in her exploded at once like a ship entering subspace. Tremor after tremor shook her.

  With a deep laugh, he pushed even farther inside her, and she felt his shaft jerking, the movements sending delirious spasms through her core.

  After a moment, as the thundering in her ears eased and her shudders slowed, she managed to look at him.

  He ran a finger across her cheek and then kissed her softly…sweetly. “Little thief, you have a body made for loving.”

  His words made her feel good and yet… Resentment mingled with her satisfaction, anger with pleasure. She didn’t know what to say. He had been caring, even gentle in a way, but he’d
had his own way in everything. He hadn’t allowed any refusal.

  He was studying her again with that concentrated gaze. As if he might read her thoughts by watching her. He couldn’t, could he?

  Amusement glinted in his eyes as he whispered in her ear, “And in the next thirty-eight days, I intend to use your body in every way possible. You will come screaming, again and again.”

  Oh Prophet.

  Chapter Four

  Dain woke with the sunrise, realizing he’d slept through the night for the first time in years. No nightmares of blood. No visions of the despicable acts of violent men. No angry souls whose lives on this planet he’d cut short.

  Looking down at the woman snuggled up against his side, he smiled. A comforting armful, apparently. Then again, the sex had been hot and wet and very satisfying. The scent of shulin still lingered in the room. Perhaps he’d just slept well because of the exercise.

  He pushed a strand of her curly red hair away from her face and rubbed his knuckles against her cheek. So soft. He’d never seen anyone with such silky skin. Few of the other planets had women like this—so round and smooth. Everything a man might want, in a small package.

  And the way she responded. He ran a hand over the gentle curve of her shoulder. Would she react the same way without aphrodica coursing through her system? Would she scream as she spasmed around him? Tremble at the touch of his tongue? He hardened, knowing he would definitely find out the answers to those questions.

  But the sun had risen, and he had responsibilities. Rolling on top of the little Earther and taking her again would have to wait.

  * * *

  Mella woke up to an empty room. She sat up, wincing as abused muscles and private areas made themselves known. Her breasts felt swollen. Her nipples were overly sensitive and still a shiny red.

  Her cheeks heated as she remembered the events from yesterday. The Indenture Hall. The auction and the men. Here with Kinae Dain. How she’d begged him to take her, and he had, giving her satisfaction as she’d never known.

  Arms over her head, she stretched, feeling strange. Like a healthy animal. Like… She winced in pain and pulled her arms down. Frowning, she stared at the faint bruising around her wrists. He’d cuffed her hands above her head. She had yanked against the restraints and discovered she didn’t have any control over what happened to her.

  And at the memory, heat washed through her and moisture gathered between her legs.

  May the Prophet have mercy. What was wrong with her? Still sitting, she yanked the blankets off the bed and wrapped them around her. What was she thinking to stare at her own body? And thinking about coupling with that…that man. Might the drug still remain in her system?

  Elbows on her knees, she dropped her head into her hands and shuddered. She had behaved…immodestly. No, worse, wantonly. On Earth, they’d call her before the church’s tribunal and cast her out. The shepherds would whip her through the streets, and she’d be shunned by all moral people.

  The thought of that punishment had always horrified her.

  And suddenly seemed a little insane. All that for a night of pleasure? She rubbed her face. Truly, sometimes the Divine Prophet’s laws seemed excessive. Rigid. Mama hadn’t approved of the Prophet. She’d never said anything disparaging about the Blessed Holy One, but her face had chilled with any mention of his name. Of course, society and laws had been far different when Mama and Papa were growing up. Before the Moral Wars.

  Once in a while they’d look at each other and then sneak into the back bedroom, away from the servants and Mella. She’d always wondered if they had been…coupling. Coupling for fun, and not just to make a child.

  They weren’t the only ones she wondered about. Some of her married friends would look at their husbands in a funny way. Or they’d touch…surreptitiously, as if the contact was accidental. Mella frowned, feeling stupid. She’d been blind, hadn’t she? Or perhaps she hadn’t wanted to see any of it.

  She brushed her toes over the soft rug, the rich colors of the hand-woven landscape almost glowing in the morning light. So pretty. How long had passed since she’d looked at anything? Really looked? Her toes tapped on an outline of a mountain with darkness shrouding the base. Once upon a time, and oh, it seemed so long ago, she’d been a different person. Excited by the world, ignoring the rules. She’d actually kissed a boy in a hoverpark. A bubble of laughter rose in her and died. Back then, she’d still had hopes of finding someone who would love her. She’d wanted a husband who would sneak away with her like her father had with her mother.

  Instead, giving in to societal pressure on single women, she’d married one of the elders from her local church. Nathan had been so sweet, so loving before they married. He’d probably had his eyes on her father’s money all along.

  The caring behavior had disappeared quickly enough. Hope after hope was ground away under his strict adherence to the Prophet’s teachings. Before her marriage, she had wanted so much more. A bitter laugh escaped at the thought of how she’d spent the night. She’d certainly gotten more now, hadn’t she?

  And look, the Divine Prophet hadn’t struck her—or anyone else on Nexus—dead. In fact, the people here appeared not only healthy, but happy in their immoral behavior. Had she lived all these years in a self-imposed prison?

  She ran her foot over the aged carpet and set her toes where the mountain glowed with sunlight on the snowy peaks. What happened on Earth didn’t matter, not right now. She was on Nexus, and she was an unshuline. For the next thirty-eight days, she wouldn’t get to make any decisions, moral or otherwise.

  After standing up, she tossed the covers on the bed and deliberately stretched again, letting the sensation of aching muscles and a satisfied body fill her mind. And tried to ignore the prudish compulsion to cover back up in the blankets.

  So…she definitely needed a shower. The scent of sex clung to her, mingling with his scent: a masculine musk and a hint of cinnamon and something clean and fresh, like the wind off the Olympic Mountains. Nice.

  Her mouth tightened. Nathan wore an overwhelming cologne with underlying bitter notes. Much like his personality. All friendly and good-natured on top, and cold, cold underneath.

  Nathan would never have touched her…down there…with his lips. He’d never kissed her and used his tongue deep inside her mouth and… She shivered, remembering how Dain’s tongue had invaded her mouth, how he’d teased her and…

  She pressed her hand over her stomach. Dain had taken everything he wanted, yet given her pleasure too.

  So who was the more moral of men—the murderer or the wanton?

  After showering in the decadent bathroom and using the packaged toiletries apparently put there for a guest of the house, she braided her hair tightly, wishing for combs to secure it off her neck. Or a scarf. Since the armoire of beautifully carved dark wood and the ornately trimmed trunk held no apparel, she donned the ankle-length jewel green robe.

  At least she had something to wear. The memory of walking naked across the plaza still made her queasy. She opened the door to the inner courtyard, smiling at how the tiny colorful birds darted so quickly through the miniature trees. No one out there. After a bit, she peeked out of her room into the hallway. He hadn’t said what he’d require of her during the day. Were unshulines supposed to stay in bed, waiting for their masters to show up?

  Or was she to serve as a maid or cook or something by day and a whore by night? Her stomach growled, urging her on. Dain didn’t seem like the kind of person who starved his people, so maybe he wouldn’t get angry if she left the room.

  She wandered down the hallway, passing closed doors. Then the hallway turned to the right and reached the heart of the clanhome. The first wide arched doorway showed a huge living area, the next a dining room with a table that could easily sit twenty. Finally, the kitchen. The scents of spicy meat and toasted bread made her stomach rumble.

  The big, brick-floored room held two people. A lean, older woman with pink cheeks and pinned-up gra
ying hair chattered away in a laugh-filled voice to a young woman. Around seventeen in Earth years, the younger woman had purple-dyed hair in intricate knots and beads. Mella smiled. Apparently teenagers were the same everywhere.

  “Hello,” Mella said.

  The older woman jumped, then laughed. “Himself did say he purchased a contract yesterday. What be your name, child?”

  Child. If only she felt like one, but today she felt older than the woman before her. “Mella, ma’am.”

  “Ma’am?” The woman chuckled, poked the girl with her wooden spoon. “Hear you that, Blanesta? Respectful, as you should be.”

  Giggling, Blanesta crinkled her nose. “You’re just old-fashioned like everybody from the backcountry.”

  Shaking her head, the older woman turned back to Mella. “I be Idesta of the Hermest kinline. Have you an appetite?”

  “I’m starving.” Mella bit her lip. What exactly was her status here? “I can make my own—”

  “Make it you will not. We saved some sustenance for you.” Idesta waved a hand at a black hotbox sitting on a counter. “Blani, bring Mella her food.”

  Following the woman’s gesture, Mella seated herself at a round table in the corner. Blanesta brought out dishes containing what looked like eggs and some sort of meat. Cut-up fruit came from the coldbox. The youth poured an astringent drink like tea from a pot.

  Mella stared at the riches in front of her and remembered her recent gratitude for a piece of stale bread. “Good heavens, there’s enough for three people.”

  Idesta laughed again, the lines on her face speaking plainly that she’d spent her life smiling. Mella liked her already. “Eat what pleases you, child. Unsure we were of what an Earther would enjoy for firstmeal, and so we provided you with a variety. Eventually, as we learn your favorites, a better selection you will have.”

  They acted as if she was a guest. But Idesta had said she knew Dain had bought her contract. “Don’t… I mean, I’m only here for thirty-eight more days.” Her stomach growled and decided for her. She’d eat and then ask what her day duties entailed. She served herself a small sampling of everything and started on the food, smiling in delight. Idesta was a very good cook.