Captured--A Sexy Medieval Fantasy Interracial BWWM Romance Novelette from Steam Books

by Annette Archer

  Table of Contents

  Captured Title Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  About Annette Archer

  Check out the INTERRACIAL LOVE STORIES compilation!

  BONUS - Preview of "Crystal Elves" by Annette Archer

  CAPTURED

  The Far Realm Chronicles

  Annette Archer

  Copyright © 2013 Steam Books Erotica & Romance

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author or publisher except for the use of brief quotations in critical articles or reviews.

  Chapter 1

  In the deserts of the Orcirin, far to the south of the civilized lands, live the Ba’nar. For centuries they have lived as a people apart from the rest of the lands and Kingdoms. They are acknowledged as a fierce people, independent, and not to be crossed. Most people avoid meeting them at all, whenever possible.

  Naga’su knew the reputation of her people. She was proud to be Ba’nar. She was proud to live the life of a brave warrior fighting against the elements and scraping to exist in lands where no other race could survive. The Ice Maidens, as tough as they supposedly were, never came this far south. The Crystal Elves gave the Orcirin deserts a wide berth.

  She smiled now as she crouched against the burning sand, her deep ebony skin soaking in the heat of the sun, her spear leaving serpentine trails along her path. Her people were great. There was no better race in all the lands.

  The crowned lizard saw her, but didn’t move. It could leap the distance between them easily. She had managed to creep to within twenty paces of it before it knew she was there; that was a new record for her. The greenish-gray scales of the thing blended in well with the desert sands, but she was one of the best trackers of her tribe.

  Tensing the corded muscles in her long, bare legs, she pushed herself up suddenly and spun and threw the spear with deadly accuracy. The lizard, at least as tall—long?—as she was, surprised her by jumping at her in the same moment, mouth open, long tongue out, teeth bared. Her spear went wide of the mark and the beast slammed its body into her, its claws trying to find purchase on her dark skin as she twisted away from them and drew the short, curved knife from her waist.

  She was in serious trouble. A crowned lizard’s scaly hide was thick and her knife wouldn’t be enough to cut through it. On the other hand, the reptilian claws of her foe were hooked and sharp and cut through the thin leather shoulder strap and her left shoulder. Her bra top slipped low on her full breasts and her own red blood cooled her skin.

  Naga’su rolled over onto her back under the thing, and on impulse rammed her right hand up hard with the knife.

  Right into the lizard’s mouth.

  She could feel the blade tear up into the soft palate of the thing’s mouth, right through the thin underside of the skull, and into the brain. The light in its eyes grew dull immediately and it fell limp over her with the full weight of its body.

  It was hard to breathe, and her arm was trapped and the three parallel scrapes on her shoulder stung with a mighty power, but Naga’su thrilled with what she had just accomplished. She was alive. She had won out. She would live to hunt another day.

  Pulling herself out from under the lizard, she gently slid her arm out of its mouth, receiving only a few scrapes from its teeth along the way. Now she just had to bring the beast back home to her village and glory in another successful hunt while the old women cooked the lizard’s flesh and the men sat around to hear her tale and leer at her fine, sleek body.

  On her knees in the sand, she threw her head back, curly black hair falling down the line of her spine, her hands fisted and her arms raised. To the darkening sky she called out the warrior’s scream of her people. This was freedom. This was life.

  The pain that suddenly spiked through her left arm surprised her. Her shout cut off abruptly in a wince.

  “Mothers save us,” she gasped to her ancestors.

  The lizard had gotten her worse than she realized. Well. She wasn’t going to be able to drag her kill back today. It was already late and her arm needed some attention. She sighed. A night out on the desert plain was not her idea of fun. Being back in her village with a young man in her bed, that was her idea of fun.

  She thought briefly of Gat’ulan. He was twenty, a whole year older than her, and he knew things she had never dreamed of. He showed her those things at night, in her hutch, and her screams then rivaled the warrior’s cry she had just let out.

  Licking her lips, she wondered if it might not be worth the pain of carrying the kill just to get back to him. Experimentally, she grasped the end of the lizard’s long, thick tail and heaved. The agonizing sting that lanced through her left arm was her answer. She’d need to bind her wound now and give the shoulder the night to recover before she could get back home. Unless she wanted to abandon her kill.

  She laughed at her little joke. A warrior did not abandon her kill.

  Fine. Gingerly, she stripped her top off, the skimpy bra of tanned leather unhooking from the side to fall away to the sand. Her tits were stiff from the pain, and the warm air of the coming night caressed them. She smiled, knowing how desirable she was. If only Gat’ulan could see her now, exposed like this, only the short leather skirt covering her hips and her ass, her knife and her water bag and her herb satchel hanging from her waist, blood from a good kill running down her arm. Perhaps she would show him what it had looked like when she got back.

  For now, she wiped some of her deep red blood from herself and mixed it into the sand at her feet. She spit into it a few times, as she had been taught by her mother and her mother’s mother before her. When the mud was ready, she scooped it up in her right hand, and plastered it to the cuts on her left shoulder.

  It stung, but she took it with only a sharp intake of breath. She lacked a proper bandage, so she wrapped her bra under her armpit and over the slope of her shoulder, and tied it with her hands and her teeth. It would do for now. It left her exposed, but there was no one here to see her and enjoy it.

  Night fell quickly out here in the desert. Already the sun was painting the horizon in reds and purples. She should get something to eat and then take a few hours’ rest before she had to watch against the predators of the night.

  Finding her spear, she hacked off a hunk from the lizard’s side. It would be better cooked, of course, but a fire wasn’t something she had the means to create. So, raw it was.

  The taste of it was salty and sweet, like good meat should be. She giggled, thinking again of Gat’ulan. It was something private they had shared. Something else he had shown her.

  As her eyes grew accustomed to the gathering dark, she spotted something. A bright spot not that far away. A fire. Someone had been able to make a fire on these sands. Not one of her people, to be sure. She knew where all of the hunters had gone today, and none had come in her direction.

  Then, who was this?

  Naga’su knew that she would have to find out who this was. For the safety of her people, if nothing else. She truly regretted screaming her elation to the skies earlier, because anyone that close would have heard it. Hefting her spear, she crouched on her bare feet, the anklets of vines and preserved leaves tickling her ankles. She looked down with regret at her kill. She couldn’t bring it, and
leaving it out in the open like this would undoubtedly get it eaten by predators.

  There was nothing she could do about it. The safety of her people came first.

  In a crouching prowl she stalked her way closer to the place where she had seen the fire. That was definitely what it was, although she still had no idea who would have built it. Her people were smart enough not to attract the things that prowled the deserts at night.

  Which meant only one thing: someone was trespassing.

  Just at the edge of the light, her brown skin bathed gold along the curves of her breast and her tight abdomen, she watched for any sign of movement. There was none. Whoever had been here had gone. But the fire still burned brightly, as if it had just been fed from the small pile of dry sticks neatly stacked next to it.

  Almost as if someone had expected to come back, or like they knew she was coming…

  A soft rustle in the sand behind her was her only warning. Swearing at her dead ancestors for not watching over her better, Naga’su whirled and brought her spear up just in time to block the downward swing of a stout metal pole. A dull thud resounded through her injured arm on impact. Looking up, she saw another human’s face. A pale skinned, young male with eyes that blazed red as the firelight caught them and with hair the color of golden sunshine. He wore a long tunic with the insignia of a lion on it and leggings of a pale gray. Bits of armor were fitted to his shins and elbows.

  Naga’su had seen armor before. She knew what that meant. This man was a soldier in some other man’s army. Pathetic. She easily turned his staff away with her spear and drove her knee up into his crotch. It banged against something hard, maybe more metal, she reasoned. What sort of a man wears metal around his crotch? Wouldn’t that be…uncomfortable?

  She didn’t have time to dwell on it as he raised his staff up again and this time swung it in at an angle aimed for her head.

  Naga’su was faster. This time she braced herself on her back and rammed both feet directly up into the man’s crotch. That metal protection could be used against him, too.

  With an oomf and a strangled expression, the man dropped his staff and fell to his knees as Naga’su rolled out of his way. Then with a sneer for the incompetence of men in general and white-skinned foreigners in particular, she brought the butt of her spear down hard against the back of the man’s tossled hair.

  He fell on his face, unconscious. Shaking her head, Naga’su went to kick the fire out.

  Chapter 2

  It was morning before the man came around. Naga’su didn’t think she had hit him that hard, but apparently she had. During the night, she had torn his tunic into strips to bind his hands and his feet. He lay there on the sand now as the sun came up, bare-chested and involuntarily asleep. Naga’su let her eyes roam over the fine cut of his muscular arms, the rippled muscles of his abdomen. For a foreigner, he was very strong and desirable.

  She shook her head at that thought. He was weak. He was pathetic. Serving in another man’s army. That was no way for a free-spirit to live. She could have her way with him whenever she wanted—

  “Stop it,” she muttered to herself. She could not deny the physical attraction she had for him, but that was all it was. No matter how she tried, she couldn’t keep her thoughts from turning to what he might look like if she tore off his leggings, as well. Maybe she should just take him once to get it out of her mind.

  Naga’su growled and kicked sand at the man’s face. He startled, and tried to sit up, only to find his hands were bound behind his back. In a panic, he looked around himself until he saw her, sitting there cross-legged, her chest still bare, her skin catching the first rays of the sun. She leaned her right elbow on her knee and propped her head in her hand.

  “Why do you trespass on my lands?” she asked.

  The man thumped his head back against the sand. “I don’t believe this.”

  “Believe what you will, little man.” Naga’su rolled her left shoulder experimentally. Much better today. “The fact is that you are my prisoner. I will release you only when I say. Now, I require an answer. Why do you trespass?”

  “I didn’t mean to trespass, believe me…wait. Did you rip up my shirt?”

  Naga’su shrugged. “I needed the fabric.”

  She saw the way his eyes followed the tight bouncing of her breasts as she shrugged and then stretched. It had been a long night. She had gotten little sleep, defending them from night predators like the digging centifers and the banded rock snakes. When she’d raced back to where she had left the crowned lizard, it had already been dragged away by something bigger and stronger than her. She wasn’t about to track down whatever it was and argue about it.

  “Wonderful,” the man muttered. “Look, if you’ll be so good as to untie me, I’ll be on my way.”

  “To where?”

  The man blinked at her as if he didn’t understand the question. “To anywhere but here?”

  “No,” she said, tentatively pulling away her makeshift bandages. “I mean, where would you go? Where did you come from? These are the Orcirin deserts. There is nothing around here for miles, and no one is stupid enough to live this close to us. So. Where did you come from?”

  He sneered at her calling anyone this close to their home stupid. But then she saw him tug at his bonds. Hard to argue with the position he had found himself in, she reasoned.

  “All right,” he said. “Listen to me. I am part of Rikketh’s Infantry. I deserted.”

  Naga’su stared at him blankly.

  “That means I left them. Walked away. I’m not interested in being a soldier for them anymore.”

  Now she got it. He was running and hiding. Coward.

  She took the bandage off, the strip of clothing that had been her bra just yesterday, and threw it away to the sand. The cuts had stopped bleeding. They would heal to a scar, and the skin would probably be lighter than the rest of her beautiful dark body. Scars were signs of bravery. She was willing to bet this man here had no scars at all.

  “There are more soldiers nearby?” She stood up and looked out as far as she could as though she would be able to see soldiers marching on the horizon.

  “They aren’t anywhere nearby,” he said to her. He rolled onto his side, facing her, and then kicked himself up to a sitting position. “Now. How about you let me go, so I can get away from them and you?”

  Stupid foreigner, she named him in her head. “You do not understand your situation. You were trespassing. I captured you. Now, you belong to me.”

  “I belong to you?” His voice rose. “What does that mean?”

  She stood up, wiping sand from the back of her short skirt and legs. “It means what it means, soldier man. Stand up. You will come with me.”

  “I will not! Cut these ropes off me. Right now.”

  She put her toes to his bare chest and pushed back until he overbalanced and landed on his back on top of his pinned arms again. Then she pushed harder, enjoying the feel of his hard muscles. She stroked her foot along his chest, down his torso. On impulse she dropped to her knees and laid across him and forced her mouth over his. He squirmed until she grabbed his chin with her hand and held him still.

  She licked his lips, tasting the salt of his sweat against his tongue. Her naked chest pressed against his and the warmth of his body excited the tips of her nipples. Her heat was real, and her need was sudden. It surprised her and thrilled her at the same time.

  “I should take you,” she whispered against his cheek. “You could not stop me if you tried.”

  “Uh, I’m not sure I’d try to stop you.” He swallowed and tried to move his mouth back to hers.

  She stopped him with a not gentle shove. She could feel the way his body had reacted to her caresses, the way his manhood had become stiff and thick. She would have him one day, she promised herself, but on her terms. She would not let this soldier man tease her into taking him. She would be the one in control when it happened.

  For now, it was time to go.

&
nbsp; She got off of him, pulling him to his feet. He was shorter than she was by a few inches, but that was nothing uncommon for her people. They were generally taller than other Humans, in her experience. His clear hazel eyes studied hers until she broke her gaze away. Her spear lay where she had left it. She retrieved it now, and used it to point south.

  “We go this way, soldier man.”

  With a downward swipe of the sharp tip of her spear that made him cringe, she cut through the makeshift bonds she had tied around his ankles, freeing his feet. Nodding to herself in satisfaction, she turned to start home.

  The man immediately sped off in the other direction. Naga’su had expected that, however, and quickly caught up to him. With a diving slide she put her feet into his legs and toppled him. He spun on her, kicking up, catching her in her knee and bending her leg sideways.

  Well, well, she thought to herself. Perhaps this man was not as weak as she had thought.

  When he kicked at her again, she caught his foot and twisted it to turn him over onto his stomach. She held the leg bent up to his ass for a count of five before letting it go. He fought his way back up to his feet, hunched like he was going to continue the fight.

  Calmly, Naga’su pulled the knife from her waist and held it in a reverse grip. “I can end your life here, soldier man, if that is what you prefer. You are mine. If you are of no use to me, I will drop you here on the sand like I did my bloodied clothing.”

  The fight went out of him as she watched. He closed his eyes and nodded to indicate his cooperation. “How can anyone as gorgeous as you be so deadly?”

  Naga’su was surprised at his words. “You have given me a great compliment,” she said to him. “For that I will let you live. Until it pleases me to kill you.”

  “Wonderful,” he said, in a small voice.

  She walked behind him as they went, spear held with the point hovering near his back. It was a far way to her village. Almost two hours of walking brought them halfway there. By this time, the pale-skinned man was starting to turn red under the sun’s heat. She would have to find him shade, and find them both something to eat and drink. She had a little water left in her leather bag but not enough. She had expected to be back in her warm bed last night, wrapped around Gat’ulan and dreaming of her kill.