“Wet,” Sander murmured against her mouth. He thrust the full length of his cock into her, fast and hard, just the way she loved it. “So lush and hot.”
He dipped his tongue into her mouth, curling it against and around hers.
Rudolf reached between them and took her nipple between his finger and thumb, twirling it roughly. He pulled back her head with his hand in her hair. Rudolf grazed her throat with his teeth, licked the back of her jaw, and circled her ear. The metal studs in the middle of his tongue tingled against her skin.
Destoiya turned her face to capture Rudolf's lips. When Sander cried out his climax, arching his back, Rudolf splayed a hand across her clenched buttocks and shoved her hard against Sander in counterpoint to the Androg's ramming thrusts. She moaned into Rudolf's mouth.
The two slaves eased her back down to a manageable level of ecstasy, petting and stroking her while she shivered and shook between them. Her chin quivered. Chiasmii calm spread over her.
Destoiya recognized Sander's influence at once. She had no composure of her own. When she could finally draw a breath without shaking, she willed her body to relax.
Sander stroked her hair, settling her against his shoulder as Rudolf drew covers over the three of them and spooned himself behind her.
Glorious warmth snuggled between them. She pulled Rudolf's arm around her waist and curled one leg over Sander. She let herself drift.
A voice yanked her rudely back to awareness.
“Your Majesty.”
Destoiya opened her eyes. Her android guardian stood a short distance from the bed. Dark-skinned as a Kelthian, with midnight hair and darker eyes, he stood with his hands behind him, his cool gaze regarding her.
She heaved a sigh. “Damn it, Prentice, what is it?”
“A token has been moved.”
“Sander, Rudolf.” Her tone said enough. Both jades left her bed at once, bowing as they backed away. When they turned to go, she watched their naked backsides all the way across the room, enjoying the sight. At the door, they turned in tandem and, finding her watching them, each blew a kiss as he left.
Returning her attention to Prentice, she punched a pillow and dragged it under her head. “This had better be worth what you interrupted.”
“I waited until you were finished.”
“More like they were. They earned their keep last night and this morning. See to it they're well rewarded.”
“As you wish, Majesty.” He smiled as he bowed.
She harrumphed and folded her hands behind her head. Prentice never smiled. “Talk.”
“Captain NarrAy Jorlan signed a contract today with the Thieves' Union on Kelthia.”
“Finally! Some action. Any details?”
“Senthys Antonello, Level Nineteen, Advanced Interior Security, has been contracted to retrieve an item of undisclosed nature sometime within the next four days.”
“Excellent. Now we'll find out where the Jorlans hid their data. I knew they stashed it among their personal effects, and only their daughter had any idea what form the information was in. You were right, Prentice. Patience is a virtue.” She chuckled. “And I need every bit of virtue I can buy.”
* * * *
Kelthia
NarrAy said nothing, allowing Senth the privacy of his thoughts while Lieutenant Broxus loaded Senth's bagbot into the trunk of their hover.
Senth held the door of the rented car as she slid into the roomy interior. He and Broxus entered from opposite sides, and slammed the doors.
“Starport,” Broxus told the driver.
The car bumped into the air.
NarrAy took the time to introduce her coworkers. “Senth, this is Chad Broxus, my assistant, who was with me last night.”
“Call me Brox. Everybody does.” The men shook hands. They sat side by side, facing the rear.
“And Encie Falehla, my friend.”
Senth reached diagonally across NarrAy, shook Encie's hand, then quickly withdrew.
“You remember me, I see.” Encie folded her arms. “We saw each other at the Ghost,” she told NarrAy. “I was ogling him, and he seemed interested for a moment.”
A blush stole across Senth's cheeks. He kept his head down.
“Until some pretty thing in leather talked him out of it.”
So, that's who you were flirting with. NarrAy arched a warning look at her aide and silently mouthed one word. “Mine.”
Encie lifted a brow, but turned her gaze out the window.
NarrAy turned hers on Senth, who still hadn't met her eyes.
“Encie runs an underground railroad for HalfKin. You didn't really need to know that,” she added, “but I can tell you've caught wind of her reputation.”
NarrAy made a gesture at Encie, freeing her to talk.
“You ever come up against prejudice?” the aide asked him.
“Every day.” Senth looked at her. “All it takes is for someone to see my eyes, or for me to open my mouth.”
He pulled back his lips. The extra long incisors gleamed alongside his human teeth.
“The rest of me is totally human. Well, pretty much, anyway.”
“Imagine if you lived on Felidae, the Kin homeworld. My people hate the way humans have swarmed onto our world, polluting it, spoiling the rivers, the hunting. Being human can get you killed just for breathing.”
“You help HalfKin get off-world?”
Encie nodded. “Every HalfKin's different. Some appear completely Kin, others are more like you. But all it takes is one human trait on Felidae and you're an outcast.”
“And only one non-human one here.” Senth rubbed his arm. “People think you can't control yourself. It makes me mad.”
Like people thinking I'll spray pheromones all over them if they get too close. To avoid the Better stereotype, NarrAy purposefully wore clothes that covered most of her. Today she had on a dark gray conservative pantsuit that didn't show so much as an inch of flesh below her neck.
She crossed her legs, sliding a foot down Senth's in the process. She saw him swallow. “Sorry.”
Beside her, Encie coughed the word “not” into her hand, earning a glare from NarrAy.
Senth kept his eyes down.
“How did you end up a slave?” Encie asked.
“More of that prejudice you talked about.”
He drew his folded cloak over his lap. “My brother says when I was born, the clan Tzesar declared me anathema, took me away from my mother, and ordered me killed. An elder took pity on me and sold me to slavers instead.” He shrugged. “At least I'm alive.”
“Your mother was Kin?”
“Human.”
“What clan was it?”
“Ruh.”
“The Ruh clan, being nice to humans. There's a switch.”
“You call what they did to me nice?”
“To your mother. If Ruh slit the throats of Kin that breed with humans, imagine what they do to humans.”
“They probably weren't ever 'nice' again because of me. My brother says he had pneumonia and could barely breathe, and my mother was pregnant and homeless, so one of the clan elders took them in and nursed my brother back to health. After I was born, the Ruh threw them out.”
“Where's your brother now?” Encie asked.
“Here on Kelthia. A slave like me. Different type.” He picked at a button on the cloak. “Human.”
“So a half-brother.”
He nodded.
“He the one who dragged you away from me last night?”
Senth's fangs bit into his lower lip. He nodded again.
“You're close, huh?”
“Very.”
“That pretty thing in leather have a name?”
He looked at Encie. “Khyff.”
“Antonello, like you?” She drummed her fingers on her thigh. “ Nice looking for a human.”
When NarrAy poked her with an elbow, Encie gave her a look that said, “What?”
“Our cover, Senth,” NarrAy put in, “is
a group of friends on vacation. We have a luxury cabin on the sleepliner. Everything's Empire Class on Tarth. One day out, one day back. One to work. One extra if we need it. So enjoy the trip. You can have anything you need.”
“And most likely,” Encie put in, her mouth set in a smug smile, “anything you want.”
“Encie…”
“Well, kkkhh! Excuse me for giving the man the facts.”
NarrAy forgave her when she saw how Senth preened at the word “man”. If it cheered him, she'd forgive Encie anything.
They arrived at Starhaven Leojnimaj shortly after. Senth turned his bagbot in to the security system, but flashed ID when they wanted his cloak. They waved him off with an apology.
“What was that about?” NarrAy took his arm and walked beside him, careful not to touch any bared skin.
“I went through hell to earn this cloak.” He carried it on his other arm. “My union level is exempt from search.” He smiled down at her. “Don't worry. Nothing to draw attention. It's protocol for my union, and I do it all the time.”
“You read my mind.”
He shook his head. “Comes from knowing how to read a mark.”
She squeezed his arm and laughed, leaning against him. “Remember, we're here to have fun. Or appear to, anyway.”
“Was I wrong to exempt my cloak?”
“Not at all.” She tugged his arm, drawing his gaze. “But it's wrong not to smile at me.”
“Now that,” he said, and flashed those adorable fangs, “I can do.”
* * * *
Tyran Sleepliner Ceroman Hethen
Empire Class Berthing, Suite Alpha
Senth refused to give the porter his cloak and went to hang it in the closet himself. He stood before the open door.
NarrAy came over to him. “Something wrong?”
“No. Sorry.” He draped the cloak over a valet stand. “It's just that this closet is about the size of my bedroom at home.”
“One of the luxuries of Empire Class.” She leaned against the wall. “Hungry?”
“I get pretty jumpsick.”
She nodded toward Encie. “Kin seem to love jumping.”
“They probably always land on their feet when they fall, too. I prefer being out cold.”
“One of the other benefits of Empire Class is good jumpdrugs. Brox will fix you up.”
Senth watched her walk away. The gray suit hugged her in all the right places. What a body! Nipped-in waist, rounded bottom, long legs. He rubbed his arm, cursing his master's insistence on Shackle. His mind knew what he wanted, but his body refused to cooperate. Four days with NarrAy, and not a chance in all the worlds anything will ever come of it. I'll be a virgin forever.
Each of the four traveling companions had his or her own cabin within the suite. Senth flung himself down on the bed in his, aimed the remote at his bagbot, and watched it deploy into a closet. Practically all the clothes in it were new. Traveling Empire Class warranted a suitable wardrobe. Saint-Cyr might not splurge on day to day needs, but he knew how to make an impression.
Senth was changing clothes when Broxus tapped on the door.
He let the man in. “I was dressing for dinner. Let me grab a shirt.”
“No, don't bother yet. NarrAy asked me to give you some Holiday.”
“Do what?”
“The jumpdrug.” He pointed to Senth's arm. “What are you taking?”
He covered the bruise on his inner elbow.
“Sorry, but I need to know, in case it reacts with Holiday.”
He grimaced. “My master has me on Shackle.”
Broxus whistled. “That must have been one hell of a dose to leave a bruise like that.”
“No more than he always gives me.”
“You're kidding. May I?” He took Senth's arm in his hands and bent to examine the bruise. “I've seen plenty of Shackle marks, man, and I can tell you, you shouldn't get a bruise like this. Does it ever sting?”
“Like fire. Every time.”
He let go of Senth's arm. “He's overdosing you. It shouldn't hurt, and it shouldn't leave a bruise. Sorry to tell you, but he's likely giving you that much to keep you under his control, not to prevent aggression or make you focus like they all say Shackle's good for. That much reduces the will. He ever hypnotize you?”
“No.” Senth stared down at his arm. “I don't think so.”
“You might not know if he did. Fortunately…” Broxus produced an air syringe, “—it won't interfere with the Holiday.” He pressed the syringe against Senth's upper arm. “Done. No sting, no pain, and no barfing up your toenails. Except for the jump alarms, you won't know we jumped, and your stomach will be fine. No sickness at all.”
“Thanks.” He rubbed a hand over his arm. “Do we dress up for dinner, or down?”
“With NarrAy in charge?” Broxus rolled his eyes. “Definitely up. Man, I hate putting on all that fancy stuff.”
Senth pulled a white shirt out of the closet and tossed it on the bed. “I've always liked it.” He set out a tie and diamond cufflinks.
“I should have known. The one time I get to work with another guy…”
Senth grinned. “It's not so bad. You need help?”
“You know how to do those flat collar things?” He pointed to the black tie on the bed.
“Sure.”
Broxus stroked his jaw. “Maybe you'll be all right after all. If I let one of them do it…” he stuck his thumb toward the door, “—they'll have my collar so tight I won't be able to breathe.”
Senth laughed.
“Gotta tell you, man,” Broxus said, one hand on the doorknob, “the lady likes you. If you weren't on Shackle…” He shrugged.
“Are you serious?”
“Sure am.” He opened the door. “She hasn't stopped talking about you since you left the room.”
Senth pumped a fist in the air. NarrAy liked him!
“You want me to say something?”
“No! Yes. No.” Senth winced. “You think it's a good idea?”
“Why not let her know?” He winked as he went out the door. “You'll like her. Encie's quite a prize.”
The door shut behind him.
Senth felt the blood drain from his head. “Encie?” He clapped a hand to his brow. He jerked open the door and went after Broxus.
The two women turned toward him when he entered the main cabin, their eyes flicking over his bare chest. He halted, hands covering himself. Both women had changed into evening attire. Encie wore green.
NarrAy had on red.
Another red dress to haunt his memories. A sleeveless and strapless red dress. A long, slinky, shiny, scarlet red dress that looked—wet.
He tore his gaze away. “Brox,” he whispered hoarsely, desperate to stop him.
Broxus turned back, a question on his face.
“Um, about that…” Senth moved a hand to his face, lowered it back to his chest, and half turned aside, “—that … thing … we discussed.” Broxus nodded. “Uh, better not do that. It would be the wrong one.”
The man's eyes went wide.
“What would be wrong?” NarrAy asked.
“Oh,” Broxus began. “Uh, it's … a type of tie,” he said slowly. “Senth was suggesting what type of tie I should wear with my shirt.”
“Yeah,” Senth agreed to the lie, letting out a breath. “I'll come show you.”
He hurried past the women, following Broxus into his cabin. He leaned against the door once inside.
“It's not Encie,” he whispered.
“I gathered that.” Broxus set his hands on his hips. “You realize NarrAy's a Better?”
“Duh!” Senth set his fingers on his temples. “In that dress, how could you not know?”
“I guess you'd have to be an idiot. Sorry. You see, Encie…” He held up a hand. “I won't start down that trail. It doesn't go anywhere you'd want to be. Afraid you're on your own with NarrAy. If she's interested, she'll make it plain enough. I assume you also realize with
as much Shackle as you're on, it won't matter.”
“I know.” He covered his face with both hands. “I know.” He took a deep breath and blew it out, standing straight. “And it'll be two years before I'm free.”
A knock on the door startled them both.
Broxus opened it with Senth standing behind it, out of sight. “What is it, Encie?”
Senth pressed up against the wall.
“NarrAy wants to go to dinner,” Encie said. “If you're done playing with your tie.”
“Be right there.” Broxus shut the door in her face. “Help me with this thing.”
He yanked a tie out of a drawer and gave it to the other man.
Senth looped it around Brox's neck, deftly flipping it a few times. “There.”
Broxus looked in the mirror. “That's perfect. How'd you get good at doing this?”
Senth smiled. “Scams.”
“There's a tie scam?”
He laughed. “No. Dressing to look the part during a scam.” He tapped the back of his fingers against the man's chest. “I gotta go get ready.”
When he exited the room, NarrAy and Encie both eyed him. With a blush, Senth inclined his head and swept back to the safety of his room.
*
NarrAy bit out a curse and folded her arms.
“What?” Encie sidled closer.
“He likes Brox.”
“Senth?”
NarrAy motioned toward his door. “Why else would he look so embarrassed? And, come on, helping him with his tie? Since when did Brox ever care about that? It's obvious they wanted to be alone together.”
“No way.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“Look at them!” Encie gestured, palm up. “Slabs of testosterone on two legs, both of them.”
“Like that has anything to do with it.”
“Well, Brox is so not interested in his own gender.”
“How would you know?”
Encie wiggled her eyebrows.
“You and … No.” She glanced at her security man's door. “When did this happen?”
“Before we came to work for you.” Encie waved off the importance of it. “We're long since over each other.”
“So, you don't think…”
“I know Brox isn't.”
NarrAy tapped her fingers against her lips. “Good.”
At the Mercy of Her Pleasure Page 4
