by Jaide Fox
Torin glanced at Navarre and then at Kittana, eyeing her up and down. “Indeed. Though my tall Amazon warrioress is a hard broken prize. Aren’t you, Orcha?”
Kittana looked at the woman with nearly white hair that hung in fine, tiny dreads down to the small of her back. She favored Torin with a scowl but nodded her head, obviously not trusting herself to talk.
“I enjoy it so much more when they resist. It makes their submission so much sweeter,” Torin said, taking another bite of food from her proffered hand and giving her a satisfied smile.
Orcha looked tempted to shove the food in his face and make him choke on it. Kittana admired the defiance in the woman, and wished she could be more combative. But it was different for her and Navarre. They shared a past that could never be forgotten.
She’d never been one to let go of her guilty conscience easily, try as she might to forget.
Navarre sat at the table, patting his lap and looking at Kittana expectantly. She sighed and sat down on his leg. His loincloth settled between his thighs, exposing his hard muscled leg to the bareness of her buttocks. She felt the rough hair tickle her sensitive flesh.
Kittana resisted the impulse to squirm at the unfamiliar sensation. He rested his hand at the base of her spine, searing her skin with his touch.
She cursed the weakness she still held for him, hating herself for having any feelings of tenderness towards him. Straightening her spine, she remained stiff under the soft circles he traced on her back as they awaited a plate of food.
Around them, the excited murmuring of the crowd increased as waiters brought clear pitchers of a thick amber liquid in. They filled empty glasses with the gold imbued fluid, and she could smell a citrus fragrance fill the air as their table was attended to.
Another waiter came by and set a plate of food down in front of them, piled high with sliced meats and cheeses and pared fruits.
“They bring the drink early tonight,” Navarre said, speaking to Torin.
Torin idly fingered Orcha’s hair. “It has been a long fought battle to find mates for us. They combed the galaxy looking for women who could be our equals and survive our…appetites. No doubt the promise of seeing us finally in action has gotten them excessively excited.”
“Eat your fill, Kittana. You will need your energy if you are to last the night,” Navarre said, motioning toward the food.
Rather than feeling hungry, the words they two men exchanged seemed to dry the moisture from her mouth, making her throat stick closed. She picked up a morsel of cheese and nibbled at it, trying to swallow a mouthful without choking.
Navarre seemed to sense her distress and picked up a glass, tipping it to her lips. The citrus scent intensified, making her nostrils flare at the sweet pungent smell. Without thinking of the consequences, wanting only to moisten her mouth, she took a small swallow.
The moment the amber liquid entered her mouth, she knew this was no ordinary alcohol. An immediate flare of heat saturated her taste buds, making her salivary glands flood. That heady, dizzying rush of heat moved down her throat, spreading through her chest and arms and further, suffusing every nerve of her body.
“Oh,” she said, swaying on Navarre’s lap.
He cupped her back against his chest and the warmth intensified. She could feel every nuance of muscle, every springy hair brush against her skin as if it were alive.
“A strong reaction,” he murmured. “Here, have some more,” he said, forcing her to swallow more of the concoction.
She drank greedily, feeling her head swim, unable to stop herself from consuming more. Her protestations disappeared as if they never existed. Her mind felt foggy. She was barely aware of anything but Navarre behind her, suddenly tugging at the chain pinched against her nipples.
He tugged on the chain, making her nipples tighten and burn.
Kittana moaned, squirming on his lap.
“She must be overly sensitive to the drink. I’ve never seen anyone so quickly subdued,” Torin said. His voice pushed through the fog of her mind.
Kittana’s vision seemed to dim, narrowing into a tunnel. She blinked slowly, trying to refocus her eyes, but it only served to turn her sight into strange double shadows.
Looking down at her hand, a halo formed around her fingers in red and green.
“What … have … you … given … me?” she asked, her words slow and slurred. Mellow heat moved sluggishly through her veins. She could feel her heartbeat pulsing in her chest.
Navarre pushed her red hair aside and bit beneath her ear. He nibbled the lobe, his breath scorching her tender flesh. “I told you the Antarians delight in their drink. Do you feel less nervous now?”
“I don’t know,” she murmured, shivering at the torment of his mouth and the insistent way he toyed with her nipples.
“They expect a show from us. It is our way of life now. There are many ShadeShifters here waiting to be serviced.”
Pleasure shuddered through her at the thought that wasn’t her own. “Please,” she whispered for his ears alone. “Please don’t share me with the others,” she begged. “I want to belong only to you.”
He cupped her jaw, angling her face towards him. His eyes looked heavy lidded, lust-filled. Something flickered in his eyes. Pity? Mercy? Had he any sense of the two or had she destroyed what was left of the good man she’d once known?
She wasn’t sure she could resist if he pressed the issue.
“So be it, but you will still put on a show. I want them to see what they can never have,” he murmured.
She nodded jerkily, feeling his powerful voice like a caress.
“Lay across this table,” he said, pushing their plate aside.
Moving as if through water, Kittana did as he commanded. The moment the cold surface connected with her skin, she gasped.
Behind her, she could feel him stand up. His huge, rough hands gripped her hips, drawing her back against him. She could feel he’d stripped off his loincloth.
Whatever substance gave that drink potency, it had lifted her inhibitions. She never would have allowed herself to be taken publicly like this. Her tunnel vision was eclipsed by the sights and sounds around her. To her right, she could see Orcha straddling Torin for one and all to see. He tilted his chair back and suddenly another man was there, entering Orcha from behind as if perfectly welcome and invited.
Maybe he had been.
Was that in her future? Was that even Navarre behind her, prodding her sex apart with his cock? Would he keep true to his word as she hoped?
She realized suddenly that it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the intense warmth filling her limbs, making her pussy wet and achy. The ache seemed to intensify with each passing minute, until she could barely stand it.
She moaned, feeling him push inside her, not in her pussy, but inside her ass.
Kittana hadn’t been prepared for the strange invasion, but it was no less strong or pleasurable. The drink seemed to relax her muscles, for she’d never been able to accept him inside her ass so easily before. It’d always taken long foreplay for her anus to gradually relax enough to allow him inside the impossibly tight hole.
The channel clenched on him as he began stroking her slowly, forging a path deep inside her body like a foreign invader.
He moved his hands to reach around her and finger her clit. The moment that hard digit touched her, she became lost in ecstasy. Waves crashed through her, unnatural, powerful and dizzying.
Kittana cried out, jerking against him, bouncing her buttocks against his cock, driving him harder and deeper inside her, uncaring of the crowd or who might be watching them. Slumberous pleasure unfolded inside her, feeling him twitch her clit, fill her ass. And then he moved his hand to penetrate her cunt with his other hand.
Two fingers curled inside her, feeling as one, alternating with the punishing thrusts he made with his cock. She could feel the two digits thicken, stretching her, becoming three and then four, and then it felt like his entire fist was inside
her, burning and pushing her to the limit.
She shouldn’t have been able to take it. He should have ripped her apart with his thickness. That she felt nothing but pleasure, that pain eluded her senses confused and excited her all at once.
The knobs of his knuckles disappeared, his hand felt slinkier, almost like another cock but more nimble, with the unnatural movement of many controlled muscles. She recognized the shifting of his body and thought he’d changed his hand into some kind of tentacle. She wasn’t sure. And she wasn’t sure she cared anymore about anything except the explosive waves of bliss penetrating her from every direction.
He stroked her, driving her need higher and higher. She thought she couldn’t take anymore, that she’d already come. In fact, she’d thought she’d come the moment he filled her body, but the drink confused her senses, made everything feel so orgasmic that when she finally did come, the pleasure was so extreme, she thought she was going to die.
Breath ripped from her chest in a long, drawn out scream. She arched her head back, pushing against his hips, tossing her head as if it might dislodge from her shoulders with her efforts.
Her orifices burned and rippled, completed with the orgasm that zipped through her core with a white hot, searing heat.
She barely recognized her own voice, her cries. She couldn’t control herself, didn’t want to. And then he joined her, jerking and spilling his seed inside her until she thought she’d drown in liquid fire.
Buzzing filled her ears. Her head felt like she’d dipped beneath the water of the ocean. Her vision blurred, the tunnel narrowing into a pinpoint of blackish green light, and then sight disappeared entirely, replaced by a warm, black void.
Chapter Five
Kittana awoke to the sensation of falling, then the heat of water saturating her pores.
Slowly, she opened her eyes and realized he’d brought her back to his suite and had prepared a bath to rouse and cleanse her. The fragrance of flowers filled her nose.
Her head listed to the side, resting on the lip of the tub. Navarre slipped into the tub, joining her.
She attempted to lift her arm, but all the strength of her body had been sapped away.
“What…what’s wrong with me?” she asked him quietly, lazily watching him take her leg and rub a cloth up and down its length.
“Side effects of the drink. You’ll feel better by the morning. Though no doubt your pussy and ass will not.”
“Mmmm. Did I…was it only you that fucked me?” she whispered, trying to keep her eyes open. Her eyelids felt so heavy. Muscled ached in places she hadn’t known they existed. This was the longest day of her life, and she was so ready to sleep and forget all that had happened.
He picked up her other leg and cared for it as he had the first. “Yes, much to the dismay of the others. They were eager to share and disappointed that I was greedy and kept you to myself. You do not remember?”
“No.” She yawned.
“I find that despite my better judgment, I felt satisfied in keeping you to myself. I want no other man’s cock inside you but mine. You are mine. Do you hear me? Mine. Forever and always,” he said, his voice so low, she could barely hear him.
She felt the blackness swimming up to greet her and gave herself up to it.
Kittana was aware of nothing else until searing meat and fat frying greeted her nose. Plates clattered with silverware, sounding strangely domestic.
Kittana opened her eyes and saw she’d slept in the bed. The sheets were turned back where Navarre had slept. She brushed her hand over his spot and felt the where the bed was still warm where he’d lain. Pulling the pillow to her, she caught his faint scent on the pillow.
She sighed, wondering what she should do. Experimentally, she sat up in the bed but immediately collapsed back against the mattress. Distantly, she seemed to remember he’d mentioned she’d be sore in the morning.
This felt beyond sore.
Her thighs felt like they’d been pried apart and tied up behind her back like a trussed calf. Her ass and pussy throbbed. Even her nipples felt abused.
She couldn’t quite remember what had happened the day before. Had it been only a day?
And what of the smell of breakfast cooking? She thought, given the fact that she was his slave, she’d be expected to take over the domestic duties.
Had sex tamed the savage beast?
Kittana smiled to herself at her wild imaginings. Navarre was a man no woman or amount of sex could ever tame.
Slowly, Kittana gathered her strength and got out of the bed. She didn’t bother with clothing, since she had none, and padded into the small kitchen.
Seeing Navarre cooking made her smile with the strange innocuousness of the scene. He was so fierce and wild, she’d half expected him to simply turn into an animal and forage outside for misfortunate animals to slaughter. That he’d do something so mundane amused her.
“Good morning,” she said finally, drawing his attention.
He smiled a brief moment before he remembered himself and the curl of his mouth straightened. “I’ve made us breakfast, but this is something I expect you to take over, along with all the cleaning.”
She nodded and joined him at the table. She relished every morsel of her breakfast, cleaning her plate. Navarre watched her as she ate, looking surprised at her appetite.
“I’m famished and don’t know why,” she said.
“You hardly had time to eat yesterday. Today will be easier for you. I go to practice. Do what you will until my return, but do not attempt escape again. I’ve changed the code to the door, for your information.”
Navarre left her then to her own devices.
Kittana waited until she was sure he wasn’t playing a trick on her to catch her in the act and went to the door to see if she could discern the key code to unlock the door. He seemed to have figured out how she’d discovered it before and wiped the slate clean of fingerprints. She attempted entering in different combinations of numbers but came up empty every time. Finally, realizing the futility of continuing, she gave up and turned around to face the suite.
The kitchenette was small and quickly wiped down and cleaned from their breakfast. She moved to the bedroom/sitting area, stripping the dirty sheets off the bed and taking them to the laundry area near the bathroom. She emptied everything into the washer and poked through the closet looking for clean sheets to cover the bed.
He didn’t have anything to wear but loincloths and kilts. There wasn’t a single shirt that she could slip on over her head. Something about the state of his apparel made her sad. On his world, he’d enjoyed a variety of styles of clothing. Here it seemed he’d given up his previous life and wholly embraced the Spartan existence of a gladiator. There was no entertainment; no mementos of happiness, nothing that spoke of anything except a life lived solely for the games.
That he was here most likely because of her actions was not lost on her.
No wonder he acted like he despised her. He’d gone from the heights of society to a mere executioner for bloodthirsty entertainment. It was enough to drive the most stable person insane. ShadeShifters lived too close to the edge of sanity to remain aloof to this circumstance.
Kittana sighed, resigning herself to having no clothing. She wrapped up in a towel and noticed a rectangular object nestled amongst his clothing.
It was the first personal item she’d seen in his apartment—an electronic tablet. She grabbed it and some new sheets, put those on the bed, then moved to the sitting area and propped her feet up in the opposite chair.
