Stretching out beside her as she became accustomed to another unyielding object in her ass, Orion talked quietly about the history of Virile and how the introduction of technology had wrested it into this century, all the while coasting the pads of his fingers lightly over her skin. He sensitized her and calmed her at the same time, and she wanted to preen beneath his touch—and then in no time at all it was dinner. Both Kellis and Thorn had apparently been working, and one or both of them must have found time to make the food. Adara, normally not idle, felt a tad uncomfortable with not contributing, then consoled herself when remembering her participation in the playroom earlier. Besides, she’d been pampered like a princess and wouldn’t have wanted to miss that, although she doubted that too many princesses had a plug in their butt.
The evening meal was a quiet affair with the exception of some good-natured ribbing of one another by the twins. Mostly it was informational. They ate once again in the huge kitchen, although she spied another darkened room full of a long table surrounded by a great many chairs. Kellis had answered her unspoken question as she sat on his lap, positioned so the plug didn’t cause her discomfort. The paradox didn’t escape her.
“We eat in the kitchen area unless we are entertaining, Adara,” he advised. “And we rarely entertain. There is much work to be done and if we seek distractions we go to the center.” Before Ronnie. She was glad he hadn’t added that.
“Where the clubs are.” Now why did she have to say it? Because you hate to think of other women’s bodies being skillfully played like a rare instrument by these men, stupid. Which was insane, because she’d just met them and this was a temporary deal.
“There are other things at the center besides clubs,” he responded. “There is the market and various stores, activities to showcase our sports and prowess in other areas. But mostly we work.”
“We’ll take you,” Orion asserted cheerfully. “And you may wear clothing. And purchase whatever you might like. After the harvest of course.”
“When is harvest done?”
“It should be complete in under five months. We have crops in various stages of growth.”
She wouldn’t be around in five months, but appreciated the sentiment. A trip to the so-called center, which was apparently the only city of importance on the planet, sounded like fun. Adara liked to travel and explore. But she kept her own counsel, aware Thorn sent Orion one of his looks.
They patiently explained what their crop—vamvaki—was used for, an amazing variety of uses, and how they processed much of it right on the property. Nothing was wasted, and the crop, rendered down, provided energy to run the equipment the solar energy didn’t. Her query about natural resources such as water was addressed. The farm had its own water treatment plant, and every drop was utilized and recycled.
She listened intently and asked as many questions as she could, soaking up the information. She wanted to share her knowledge of her family’s business but refrained—it just didn’t fit with sitting naked, worn out from sexual adventures with these men. It seemed impossible they would view her as anything other than a sexual creature with no real working brain. Not that she’d been given a lot of time to think.
Calling up an overhead projection of the farm on a screen in the kitchen, Thorn pointed out the designated areas that would be safe for her to explore. The entire house appeared to be at her disposal with the exception of the study—the workings of the farm, all the documents and such would be of little interest to her, it was tolerantly explained. Adara knew her decision to avoid any reference to her education and interest in business was well founded on solid intuition. They may as well have patted her on the head.
Ensuring he had her complete attention by dint of deepening his voice and looming over her, Thorn reiterated the condition of Adara never being outside of the outlined areas without one or all of them. Her bottom twinged in sympathy with her jogged memory.
“I haven’t forgotten,” she said levelly.
After a brief hesitation, Thorn desisted and without another word began to clear their dishes. Kellis asked her to accompany him to the great room, and she accepted with alacrity, any desire to help out in the kitchen gone after the condescension she’d felt.
The tiles cool beneath her feet, Adara walked beside him, her nudity even less bothersome, although her gait was affected by the plug. Personally, she would have thought a little mystery might be more titillating, but all three brothers regarded her with admiration or outright lust—when Thorn wasn’t dictating to her. They looked semi-tumescent all the time, and never made an overt attempt to hide their erections, so if that wasn’t their natural state, she had their interest.
Orion had grimaced and adjusted himself when bathing her, but made no demands. It kind of bothered her that they would show patience—she didn’t want to feel their kindness or like them. The waiting also built anticipation, and she didn’t want to want their attentions either. Just when were they going to assert their rights or whatever they called it here when they won a sex slave? She didn’t allow herself to think about anal sex. While they insisted they didn’t want to hurt her, it was going to. These men probably had differences of opinion on what hurt. It wasn’t them facing a cock shoved in there. Not impressed, but she couldn’t see any way around it.
The great room lived up to its name, stone fireplace predominating. Full of large, comfortable looking furniture, couches, love seats, chairs and even a chaise lounge with tables situated in handy locations, there was even a thick carpet over the ubiquitous tile. Strange, abstract art hung in sets of threes and fours and suited the room. But it was the windows that took her attention. Windows, lacking in all the other rooms she’d been in so far with the exception of the kitchen skylight, made up one whole wall and looked out onto the bleak landscape. The view was breathtaking in a harsh, empty and desolate kind of way.
“The glass is especially strong to protect against the wind storms and filter out the UV rays and heat,” Kellis explained as she wandered closer. “We save cooling energy by having windows in only this room. And they face away from the suns.”
Adara pressed a palm against the window and nearly yanked it away. He instantly captured her hand and examined it. “It’s fine, Kellis. It was just really hot, is all. Not enough to burn but it startled me.”
“You have such perfect skin, my love. We’ll ensure you have a full coverage sandsuit when outside. The little exposure you received while entering Thorn’s craft marked your cheeks. The hood of the dress didn’t cover enough of your head. Orion was most displeased, having thought he had it made to the proper specifications.”
She was speechless. She didn’t know the ugly garment Thorn insisted she change into was for her protection from their suns. She’d noted the slight chafed soreness of her face, but thought it to be the result of the salt of her tears. Why hadn’t Thorn explained?
“Adara?”
She turned from the study of the landscape. “Thorn didn’t tell me why I was to wear the dress.”
“Was it uncomfortable?”
“No, it was soft actually and not restrictive. But ugly.”
“It was to serve a purpose, Adara. We would see past any ugly garment.”
“But he didn’t tell me why.”
Kellis sighed and tugged her to a big chair situated to enjoy the view. Once he had her settled on his lap to his satisfaction he commented, “Orion and I especially will entertain most of your questions because we understand you wish to learn. But there are some things you needn’t question and shouldn’t question. Some large and some small.
“Thorn expects you to obey him, my love. He won’t ask anything of you that isn’t in your best interest or tell you to do something that won’t keep you safe. Resisting him, whether overtly or not will bring only correction and detract from your relationship with him.”
“He expects me to ignore his arrogance and simply trust him.” And that was the crux of the matter. Adara didn’t date arrogant men—Sa
mmy possessed that trait in spades and witness how it quashed any romantic notion she might have had about him. And how was she to trust someone she had just met? It was all a dreadful muddle, and she hated it. Fighting with the man for the next while was unpalatable—especially when she was unlikely to win and losing held some unhappy connotations.
“Thorn knows what is best for you, Adara.”
“How can you know that?” she inquired angrily, wanting to pinch him.
He hesitated, clearly weighing his words. “I just do. He is my brother, and I suggest you comply."
“Trust is earned, Kellis.” Her stubborn streak flared to life, and she tried not to take her ire out on the messenger.
“Then things will play out, my love. The end result will be the same, but you will have some difficulty sitting, I suspect.”
So sweet, dirty boy Kellis just lost a whole bunch of earned Brownie points with her. Adara gritted her teeth then forced a smile. He was arrogant too, so sure of his brother’s freaking perfection, like Thorn couldn’t make mistakes. Perversely, tears burned at the back of her eyes, the result, she was certain, of frustration and not the loss of someone she had come to hope might be a friend. Short term, like camp friends, but a friend nonetheless.
Kellis cuddled her close and said nothing more, but she wouldn’t let herself relax. It was like good cop, good cop with the bad cop in the wings—Kellis and Orion would soften her up, and she’d fall at Thorn’s feet. Fat chance.
A short while later, Orion and Thorn joined them, and Adara refused to look at either. The tension thickened, and she was determined to outwait them.
“Come to me, Adara.” Thorn’s face didn’t give away much of anything, but she heard the pissed off inflection in his voice. Uh oh.
Kellis helped her to her feet, the plug shifting and announcing its presence. Adara forced herself to walk to where Thorn sprawled on another of the large chairs, feeling heated gazes on both her back and front. There didn’t seem to be room to sit beside him, and she resigned herself to sitting on his lap and feeling his hard, muscled body beneath her own. But he didn’t reach for her and she fetched up just short of his knees, feeling awkward and uncomfortable. He pointed to his feet, and she realized he was asserting his dominance, putting her in her place.
Sinking down, she stared at the floor and willed the tears back with everything she had. She hated him, and feeling powerless tied her belly in knots. She felt him shift, and an arm looped around her to turn her sideways and tuck her body against his calf. His hand coasted up her arm and over her shoulder to stroke over her hair and rest on the crown of her head. Maybe she should bark or purr. Or bite a chunk out of his leg.
The position wasn’t uncomfortable—the rug was thick under her knees and much of her weight was supported by his strong limb. The way his fingers sifted through her hair and idly scraped over her scalp was nearly mesmerizing. She could watch out the windows if she chose or close her eyes against the view. What obviously wasn’t required of her was conversation, negating her attempt at giving them the silent treatment. She hated him more.
The brothers discussed the upcoming harvest, made some preliminary plans regarding the encroachment of the outlaws on their land, commented on the general state of the planet and some of the new politics governing off-planet sales. She understood Orion managed the books and Kellis the labor side of the farm, while Thorn oversaw the sales of their product and generally ran the place. Head overseer. It figured. Her resentment boiled and nearly negated the calm, caring way he petted her. She wasn’t his pet and wished his touch didn’t feel even a trifle good.
She listened intently, hiding behind her subservient pose, remaining relaxed no matter what she heard, almost absorbed into Thorn’s leg. She didn’t learn anything of moment, but supposed having a better understanding of the workings of the farm might prove useful at a later date. The shadows lengthened behind the wall of glass as the suns retreated over the horizon and the velvet of the cold night blanketed Virile.
Kellis rose and approached the fireplace, and she soon scented the smell of an actual fire. It couldn’t be wood that was burning. There were no actual trees to cut down and burn here, but something blazed merrily behind the hearth. The faintly grassy fragrance made her think it was yet another use for their crop, the vamvaki. The room almost immediately lost the chill that had crept in as the suns set and the room darkened. Thorn felt hot against her skin—he had to be overly warm with the fire now burning merrily—and Kellis stripped off his shirt as he made his way back to his seat.
Once again they put her comfort above their own—her physical comfort in any event. Her pride was stung and her feelings hurt. They conversed above her for a considerable amount of time. There was probably another form of entertainment, maybe they watched video flicks, maybe they read, but tonight they just talked about the farm and their roles and she suspected that was for her benefit too. She was becoming more and more familiar with them.
Unless they had spent their evenings fucking Ronnie—the thought slashed into her frontal lobe with the decisive slice of a scalpel and once again that inexplicable profound sadness overcame her. Of course they had—she was their submissive and at their beck and call, whenever and however. Here Adara was being treated like a child, seen but not heard, and it made her miserable. She’d been a pouty brat, but all of this was so freaking new to her! And you had your mind made up not to go along from the beginning—you brought this on yourself. Her nose drew up and tears pricked yet again, this time escaping to track down her cheeks. She didn’t make a sound, but Thorn plucked her from her crouch and gathered her into his arms, rising with her in one smooth move, Kellis and Orion also on their feet.She snuggled into his hold, seeking comfort, and he didn’t withhold it from her, dropping a kiss on the top of her head and cuddling her closer. He murmured to her in an unfamiliar tongue, although she recognized his usual address—agapi mou. Carrying her into the bath area he lowered her to the commode, giving her his back. The little courtesy made her cry harder, and she bit her lip against the building sobs.
When she approached the sink he had already run a basin full of warm water and efficiently washed her face and hands, carefully blotting her tears, before tossing the cloth into the sink.
“Let me deal with the plug, little one.”
Knowing the drill she faced the sink and lost the full feeling as he tugged the object free, the strangely bereft sensation nearly making her cry again. She avoided his eyes in the mirror, expecting to see smug satisfaction, knowing that would gut her.
“Adara.” It wasn’t his Dom voice, but she had to obey anyhow and forced her gaze to his. The tender, accepting face she saw, all dark dominance erased, was worse in the end. She burst into tears again, feeling grossly misunderstood and outplayed. Self-pity was never a favorite feeling of hers, and it sucked.
“Little one, I’ll put you to bed.”
Not take her to bed, not fuck her—put her to bed. She wasn’t a godsdamned child. Then quit acting like one. Pouting, hiding between impotent anger and buckets of tears weren’t going to make the time here pass by faster, and she tried to listen to that scolding inner voice. She made to trudge past him, but he scooped her up—his strength not fazed by her considerable self—and strode to the bed where he set her down.
“I can’t go to bed.” She said it quietly but with determination.
“You can. It’s been an overwhelming day.”
“My feet are dirty.”
If she didn’t think it would turn to tears she would have laughed at the stunned look on his face. “You and your brothers don’t take your boots off, and the place is covered in fine sand. My feet feel gritty, and I don’t want to track it into bed.” Her knees were gritty too, not like her feet, but still imprinted with fine sand.
Thorn stared at her and shook his head, a half turn left, then right. She was in his arms in the next heartbeat, and he took her back to the bath. The counter was cool beneath her buttocks as he settled
her there.
“Why isn’t Adara—” Kellis halted his entrance and blinked.
“Her feet are dirty because we don’t take off our boots,” Thorn explained, as he rose from his crouch by the cupboard under the sink. He had a shallow pan in his hand and set it in the sink to run water into it, tossing in a little bar of soap.
Kellis opened his mouth then shut it, staring down at his footwear. He crossed to grab a towel as Thorn knelt, lifting the pan so she could swirl her feet through it. Orion took it all in from the archway, and Adara watched as he visibly suppressed a smile.
“Her knees too, Thorn,” he commented, and his brother grunted.
“Here.” Orion hustled to grab a cloth, dipping it into the soapy water and mopping at her knees.
Kellis wrapped her feet up as Thorn withdrew the pan to dump it down the sink, and Adara closed her eyes against the need to shriek with laughter. She doubted they had ever washed a woman’s feet in this manner before, or her knees—and it took all three of them to get it right. Her eyes opened wide. Surely she wasn’t so high maintenance that it took three—her musing was cut short when Thorn lifted her yet again. Nah.
“Bed.” He carried her back and nearly dropped her down onto the mattress before turning on his heel to head back once again to the bath. The tension in his body rolled off him in waves.
As she scrambled into the middle, trying to get under the sheet before the twins could further ogle her ass, she heard boots hit the floor, followed by a rustle of fabric. Orion fitted himself against her back, and Kellis knelt to kiss her forehead.
“Sleep well, my love. I will see you in the morning.”
“Good night, Kellis.” Again, she knew she spoke quietly, but the look of approval in his eyes warmed her, despite their earlier spat. Maybe he was still her ally—he just wouldn’t take her side when she was in the wrong but would still have her back. She could hope.
Virile Page 10
