Captive of Pleasure; the Space Pirate's Woman (The LodeStar Series) (33 page)

“What are you doin’ here?” demanded a low voice.

Zaë started violently as she looked up at the tall man who had appeared at her side.

He was a lean, blond man she’d seen at the gatherings, Ryder. He was young, but his green gaze was hard and suspicious as he looked from her to the gold cruiser and back.

“Why’re you spying on Stark?” he demanded.
 

 
Zaë peered around him. The knife sharpener was watching them, so she was safe—she hoped. She’d overheard Ilya say Ryder was new, and not one of Stark’s lieutenants, the few he kept close. So how could she trust him enough to tell him that she knew who the woman was?
 

“I—I was jealous,” she said, and then blushed, because it was the truth, just not all of it.

Ryder stared down at her, as if unable to believe his ears. Finally he shook his head.

“How does he do it?” he asked, although he didn’t really seem to expect an answer. “You know, I’ll keep you company if you’re lonely, pretty one. That is, while Stark has the redhead, which is a given ‘cause he’s The Storm. Never heard of him passin’ up a chance to fuck a beautiful female.”
 

“Thank you for your
very
kind offer,” she shot back, her cheeks burning. “But I’m not lonely. I was just on my way to visit Pede’s wife. Also, I don’t think Stark would approve of your proposition.”

Instead of looking worried, he grinned at her, twin dimples appearing in his tanned cheeks. But he stepped back, palms out.
 

“Women. So damn picky. Go on, then, I’m not stoppin’ you. Hey, maybe if you hurry, Storm will let you join ‘em.” He waggled his brows at Zaë.

“You’re not amusing.” She hurried away, his laughter following her.
 

The knife sharpener shook his head as she passed. “Better stay close to your tont, missy,” he called in a gravelly voice. “Only safe place for a pretty little immi.”

She would be safe in the tont, but what about the Storm?

Chapter 20

 
Ringi was walking through the camp, her daughter sleeping on her shoulder. She looked tired and sad. “Hey, Zaë, wanna come and have a cool drink?”

 
“Yes, please. And I need to tell you something.”

In Ringi’s tont, she put her little girl down in her cradle, and then pulled two bottles of wine from the cooler. She sighed as she plopped into a chair beside Zaë. “I’m worn out. Poor Ilya. Don’t know how she’s going to live without that man. They were that tight.”

Zaë nodded. “I know, it’s terrible. I feel for her. But, may I share something connected with that?” She told Ringi about the woman with Stark. “I’m worried about him. Perhaps you could notify your husband.”

Ringi listened, but then she regarded Zaë with something like pity in her eyes. “Um, honey, Stark can look out for himself. And he’ll have eyes on him. Qala, Haro or someone. Probably more than one, those pervs.”

She checked, biting her lip as if realizing she might have said too much.

“You also think he’ll have sexual congress with her, don’t you?” Zaë asked.
 

Ringi didn’t answer. Her sympathetic gaze said it all.

Zaë’s stomach plummeted sickly. “I need another wine,” she mumbled.
 

She’d been worried about him, and he was merely intent on another sexual conquest. She felt so naïve.

She stayed at Ringi’s, playing with her baby, who woke and began a game of toddling back and forth between her mother and Zaë, presenting them each with toys and then promptly taking them back with a smile of delight that melted Zaë every time.

That is, until Stark linked her and did not request that she return to his tont, he commanded her to get her ass back to it. Emboldened by the wine, Zaë informed him coldly she was with a friend—a trusted friend.
 

Then she gasped as the collar vibrated against her skin. Not painfully, but sending tingles through her.
 

Ringi was checking on her sleeping daughter, and didn’t notice.
 

“Come now, or it’ll get worse,” Stark warned in Zaë’s ear.

“Fine,” she snapped. She scrambled to her feet. “Ringi, I’m sorry I must interrupt our visit because of this—this despot.”

The collar vibrated again, this time harder, and Zaë flew up onto her tiptoes, shivering. “Stop that.”

“Stop what?” Ringi looked around.
 

“I’m sorry,” Zaë said, flushing. “Not you. I said, I’m coming,” she repeated to Stark.
 

“Then do it.”

“Bye,” Ringi called after her. “Give him hells, girl.”

She certainly intended to. Zaë stalked to Stark’s tont. The sun was hot, as was the afternoon wind, but anger blazed even hotter inside her.
 

He waited, leaning against the galley bar. He was hot, perspiration gleaming on his face and throat, his hair disheveled. As if someone had been running her fingers through it. His hooded gaze slid down over her, then back up to linger on the collar. The corners of his mouth turned up.

“I am here,” she snapped, stopping just inside the door.
 

“So I see. Close the door,” he said, his gaze running over her.
 

“I don’t wish to be enclosed in your tont with you,” she said, fighting for calm. “I was once again very embarrassed in front of my acquaintance, not only by your rude summons, but by your manipulation of this-this collar. I want it off, now please.” There, that had been polite but firm.

His eyes narrowed even farther. “Close. The. Door.”

“No, I really—”

“Zaë,
now.
”

Zaë closed it, and then stood before it, her back militantly straight, but her middle trembling. He was angry again, and this time it seemed to hold a reckless edge.
 

“Come here,” he drawled.

She shook her head and he moved, prowling forward like a large predator.

The collar vibrated again, this time just barely, but somehow on this setting it was worse, because it sent gentle shivers of sensation down through her, in the back down her spine, and in the front down to her breasts, which tightened under her thin dress.

“Mm-mm,” he approved, nearing her. “You feel that, don’t you, bunny? I can see your pretty little nipples. Hard as berries.”

She shook her head again, in denial that her body was responding in this bewildering way. “You must stop this. I can’t—” No, don’t say ‘I can’t bear it’, that betrayed vulnerability. “I don’t like it.”

“Yeah, you do.” He watched as she sidled to the left, toward the open space between the divan and a stack of cushions. “Your body likes it, it can’t lie. Reckon you can feel it lower down, now can’t you?”

It was true, the pulses of sensation had traveled down, down to gather between her thighs in a hard, hot pulsing knot. She pressed her thighs together, and then made a tiny sound as the motion only made it worse.

And he continued to watch her with that Tygerish gaze that saw everything.
 

“Come here, my Zaë,” he coaxed. “I’ll make it all better.”

“Oh, no. No, no, no.” She ducked to one side, away from the danger and temptation he represented.
 

 
Stark moved faster than any human should, and his hands closed over her hips, trapping her against the wall. The tont was firm but resilient at her back. He moved closer, looming over her, inundating her with his heat and scent—heavily overlaid with cloying perfume.

“Ugh, stay away from me,” she cried, grimacing. “I won’t let you touch you after you’ve been with another woman—especially that one. That’s disgusting. You’re disgusting.”

His silver gaze went molten with anger. “Yeah, I’ve been with another woman. And disgusting? I’ll agree. Spent nearly two hours wallowing in luxury aboard her cruiser.Playing to the woman, flirting and pretending to be seduced into doing what she wants.”

He leaned in, his face all she could see, his gaze holding hers as his hands dug into her flesh, branding her as his. “It disgusted me too, you consider that? Now, I want to feel clean, my Zaë. I want to bathe in your sweet freshness, to forget what I’ve been doing.”

To her horror, she wanted him too. Wanted his arms around her, his mouth on hers again, wanted him to do whatever he wanted, if only it would ease the ache pulsing between her thighs.
 

But the other woman’s heavy perfume lay on him like a miasma. A scent that made her ill, despite her body’s response to him, to the collar. How could he ask her to help him forget his own actions? And why had he been with that evil creature in the first place?

“In the two days I’ve been in your camp, you’ve been with three other women, Joran Stark,” she said, holding up three fingers between their faces to emphasize her point. “And this one is worse. She’s not one of your camp followers. This time, you’ve lain in the coils of a serpent. You’d better check for bite marks, for any moment the poison will paralyze you instead of just rendering you stupid and blind.”

He shook her, her head bobbling. “That’s enough. You don’t get to use your sharp little claws on me, bunny, unless they’re digging into my back because you can’t stand how good I’m making you feel. You get that?”

Frightened now, she shrank back. Mayhem blazed in his eyes, in the clench of his jaw, the flare of his nostrils. He looked angry enough to strike her, despite his promise.

“Show me you understand, my Zaë?”

She nodded.

“Good. Now stop being scared of me,” he ordered. “I’d never hurt you.”

“You c-can’t order me not to fear you. That’s not at all logical.”

His head went back, and then he lifted his chin, although his gaze was still stormy. “Sorry. You’re right about that. But those other women are none of your business. None. As for today, did you leave this tont after I told you not to?”

“Yes,” she admitted. “But only because I—I was afraid for you.”

“Aw, that’s sweet. Only, not sure I believe you.” He examined her expression. “You were afraid, or jealous?”

She shook her head, but he merely gave her a look that said he knew better. “You saw me with her. Why’d you call her a serpent?”

“Because,” she spat. “I’ve seen her before. Several times. You see, Storm, your new lover is a—a sadist. She enjoys toying with helpless beings.”

“What? Explain.”

“Oh, yes. She likes to watch them suffer, the more the better. She would taunt us, walking among the cages where they kept us, enjoying a drink and food while we watched, hungry and thirsty and frightened. She enjoyed our reaction more than her food and drink. She liked it even better when the guards brought her one of the slaves to humiliate and hurt. She—-”

“Stop,” he said. He pulled her to him, her face pressed against his throat. “Stop. Fucking hells, Zaë.”

He was truly enraged now, she could feel his big, powerful body shaking with it. But now it wasn’t aimed at her. And as he cradled her in his powerful arms, she felt him fight for control.
 

“Lucky for that bitch I didn’t know earlier that she was that bad. I would’ve strangled her...slowly.” He tipped her face up to his. “When you mentioned crazed slavers, I thought you just meant Vadyal and his men. Did she touch you?”
 

 
“Not me,” she said. “But others. I watched her beat a Pangaean so badly he didn’t wake for hours. She
laughed
when he screamed
,
Joran.”

He made a deep sound in his chest, a feral growl that sent every hair on her body standing straight up with visceral alarm.
 

“All right, that shit ends now,” he said, his jaw set like steel.
 

Without letting go of her, he touched his ear and spoke. “Pede? Yeah. Our guest gone?”

He listened for a moment and nodded once. “You have eyes on her? Right. I want a double guard on the camp tonight. Now enjoy your time with your woman. This may be our last quiet night for a while.”

Then, apparently he was done talking. With a swift move, he bent to thrust one arm behind Zaë’s knees and lifted her high in his arms. Shocked, Zaë hung onto him as he carried her through the tont to his bedroom. Her heart leapt with fear and excitement as she saw the big bed waiting.
 

He laid her on it, and then held up his hand, palm out, his eyes narrowed. “Do not
move
. You get me?”

She nodded, but eyed the door. Maybe she could just tiptoe out while he was distracted.
 

He shook his head. “Don’t even think about it, bunny. I’ll catch you, and I’ll punish you.”

“Punish me?” She sat up, and squirmed backward in the pillows, her feet tangling in the dress. “You said you wouldn’t hurt me.”

The beast winked at her, a slow insouciant gesture that made her frown in deep suspicion.
 

“Hurt you? Hells, no. Turn your sweet ass red with my palm again? Tease you until you beg me for release? Oh, yeah.”

He sauntered away, discarding clothing as he walked. She gaped at his bare, broad back and then at his tight, bare buttocks and long, muscular legs. When he disappeared into the lav, she gave a sigh of relief. But it turned to a startled squawk as the collar began to send little pulses of vibration through her, some strong enough to make her gasp, some so mild she barely felt them.