Wicked Beloved (9 page)

Lagi laughed. “Hey, don’t worry about me.
You want an attachment, that’s fine. I approve of all kinky
stuff.”

* * *

When she returned from the shop, proud of
how well she’d managed on her own, her master helped her put away
the things she’d purchased until Lagi called out he wanted a
refill. Her master retrieved his flagon, filled it with what she
had come to refer to as beer, since visually the liquid looked
similar, and gave the flagon to her to return. Much as she had no
interest in serving Lagi, she obeyed.

Lagi lounged on the couch. He saw her
approaching but didn’t sit up and reach for his drink, making her
walk all the way up to his legs and lean over before he took the
flagon. As she turned to leave, his other hand snaked out to grasp
her wrist, squeezing to the point of pain.

“
Lemme go,” she whispered.
This was one of her master’s friends and she didn’t want to cause a
scene. But she didn’t want him touching her either. He wore that
same cruel, reptilian gleam in his eyes that her first master had
possessed. That most people on this planet possessed. It made her
skin crawl.

She tried to jerk her wrist away but he
refused to release her. Her movements only caused the beer in his
other hand to slosh over the cup’s rim. So, not wishing to make a
mess, she held still and let Lagi stare at her, his eyes roaming
both her face and her body. She fidgeted, increasingly
uncomfortable under his scrutiny.

“
What?” she finally asked,
exasperated.

“
I’m trying to see what
Vonn sees in you.”

“
What d’you
mean?”

“
You bring him no
pleasure. He doesn’t beat you and he doesn’t fuck you. What are you
good for?”

Her mouth dropped open and she stared back.
She hadn’t expected that accusation and she didn’t have an
immediate answer.

“
You really should work
for your keep,” he continued. “You’re cheating Vonn out of his
money’s worth.”

“
I—I—I do so bring him
pleasure…” She had. Once. At that horrible club. Although that
hadn’t been consummated. Maybe that didn’t count.

As if he could read her thoughts, Lagi
asked, “Has he fucked you?” When she didn’t answer, his grip on her
wrist twisted cruelly. “Has he?”

“
No,” she
whispered.

“
Then what pleasure do you
give him?”

The heat of shame mottled her cheeks. It was
true. He took care of her and she gave him nothing. She wasn’t even
that great a slave. She should do something to earn her keep. He
deserved that. No one else on this horrible planet would be as nice
to her.

Had he been complaining about her to Lagi?
Was he thinking of getting rid of her? Panic clawed up her
throat.

She liked it here. Until she could figure
out how to get off the planet, this was the safest place she could
be. Her heart flailed against her ribs at the possibility of her
master’s rejection. She should do something immediately to ensure
he’d keep her.

Not that she’d admit as much to Lagi, the
bastard who’d sent them to that sadistic club, the bastard who was
smirking right now, savoring her distress. She focused on that
little rising flame of hatred and anger toward Lagi, in the hope
that doing so would tamp down her fear.

“
And here I was wondering
what he saw in
you
,” she snapped.

“
He didn’t buy
me
.”

“
No, he doesn’t shop for
things that cheap.”

“
Why you little…” Lagi
laughed. “I’eke was right. Your tongue does need
slitting.”

* * *

That night Dzer-Jin awoke at the sound of
bare feet padding into his bedroom. His fist closed around the hilt
of the dagger beneath his pillow before he recognized the hesitant,
shuffling gait as his pet. Releasing the knife, he rolled over on
his back.

She was a silhouette on a background of only
slightly lighter black. He touched the lamp beside his bed,
illuminating his pet in a blue nightshirt that ended just above her
knees. Its fabric clung to the curves of her breasts and rippled
delightfully about her hips when she moved.

Though the light was dim, she squinted at
the sudden change. “Sorry. Did I wake you?”

“
Yes. But it’s not
irreparable. What do you need?”

“
Huh?”

“
I assume you entered this
room with a purpose.” To his knowledge, she had never entered his
bedroom since that first night. He had told her she needn’t and she
hadn’t.

“
Yeah. Ummm… it’s a stupid
question. But I’m here now. I…” She came closer and gingerly
lowered herself to the edge of the foot of his bed. “I’ve been
afraid to ask… What do you want me to be?”

The question was clearly important to her,
but he wasn’t quite sure why. “I’m satisfied with whom you
are.”

“
No, I mean, what am I
supposed to be
to you
? You don’t treat me like…” She sighed. “Am I your cleaning
lady? Or your sex slave? Or what? I don’t know what I’m supposed to
be.” She gave him a little, helpless shrug.

“
I suppose I think of you
as a pet.” He kept his voice carefully neutral. After that club
experience, she must be aware of his darker desires for her. He was
uncertain for what sort of assurance she searched.

She nodded. “Pet. Okay. I can do that. Is—Is
that all you want?”

He watched her, the way she perched on the
very edge of the mattress, the way her knee shook up and down.
“What else would you be willing to give?”

She stared at the floor. “If… Would you
like…?” She stopped and seemed incapable of voicing more.

He rose up on his elbows, the sheet sliding
down to his waist. He didn’t wear nightclothes. But she had come to
discuss carnality, so his bare skin shouldn’t unsettle her. “Do you
wish an honest answer?”

In one smooth swivel, she turned, bringing
her legs up onto the mattress, and started crawling up the bed to
him.

CHAPTER
TEN

This was unexpected. Unmoving, he watched as
she prowled over his body to sit straddling his hips. She wasn’t
wearing anything under the nightshirt. His blood burned in response
to the hot, damp heat of her. Then, her eyes never leaving his, she
undulated her hips ever so slowly, making him feel each small,
sinuous movement along his rapidly hardening erection.

Every cell of his body gave her its full,
undivided attention, despite the sheet separating them. He wanted
that sheet gone. He licked his lips, mouth suddenly dry.

“
I… don’t think you
realize… what you’re doing to me.” He could have winced with
embarrassment at the husky desperation in his tone. If she hadn’t
known, his voice would have informed her, loud and
clear.

She looked so beautiful, gazing down at him
with smoldering eyes half-closed. Never breaking her rhythm against
his aching length, she leaned forward and smoothed her hands up and
down the skin of his torso. Her fingers traced the delineations of
his muscles. The contact was excruciatingly delicate and it wasn’t
enough. He needed more.

Almost convulsively, he sat up, wrapping his
arms around her, and captured her mouth with his. The kiss was
messy and too forceful. He knew he was bruising her lips but he
couldn’t stop.

Losing control like this was strange to him.
He should suppress these feelings or harness them or something. But
instead he was yielding to the unbelievable sensations she provoked
inside his body.

She was kissing him back with equal fervor.
Her fingers carded through his hair. Her touch was so wild and yet
so gentle. He was accustomed to pain and passion but this… this was
unique. He had no name for it. If this was love, enjoying it so was
wrong, but he did. He couldn’t imagine losing this, losing her.

He broke the kiss, moaning softly, wanting
to plunge inside her and claim her fully. Claim her. Yes, she was
his.

He wanted to feel himself thrusting deep
inside her, feel her hot, slick flesh gripping him tight. He wanted
his name on her lips when she cried out with pleasure. Not his
title. Not “master.” He wanted her calling his name.

A spike of pure lust convulsed him. The
yearning that coiled deep in his groin acquired a painful edge.
Broken, hitching breaths and little guttural moans struggled out of
his open mouth. His body was going to shudder itself apart.

His lips found the mark on her throat he’d
made earlier, at the club, and he bit down, reopening the wound,
surrendering to the urge to once again mark his ownership upon her.
She was his. Only his. He’d kill anyone who so much as tried to
touch her. The world should know.

A soft whine of pain escaped her before she
choked it back. But he heard and it was enough. He had injured her.
She didn’t like to be hurt. This was wrong.

“
No,” he groaned and
gently but deliberately pushed her off. He fell back against his
pillow, flinging his arm across his face, his eyes hidden by the
crook of his elbow. Her previous master had inflicted much pain
upon her, both physical and mental. He did not want to be that
man.

“
Please.” She had returned
to his side. “I can make it good for you. I can. Please. Let me
try.”

She pulled down the sheet. The air was cool
against his heated skin. He could feel himself, so full he hurt,
arced up and leaking excitement against his belly. His fists
clenched as he tried desperately not to touch her.

“
You shouldn’t,” he
managed to growl. “Go. Now.” He ought to push her away, save her
from this course of action, but he couldn’t.

She straddled him again. Then her hand
angled him up. He groaned, knowing what was coming, knowing he
should stop her, and knowing he wasn’t going to.

She lowered herself onto him, using gravity
to aid his penetration. She was so tight. He could feel himself
forcing apart her hot, slick channel, making her body accept his
intrusion, slowly pushing inside her until he was completely seated
and she clung to his entire length. She felt incredible.

Her muscles rippled and squeezed around him.
Responding on instinct, his hips bucked, erratic and reckless with
need. Her gentle stroking wasn’t enough. He wanted to roll her over
and pound her into the mattress. He wanted to thrust deep inside
her while biting and kissing his possession of her into the skin of
her throat. He might have said these things aloud.

When she started to ride
him, truly ride him, hard and fast, the sensation melted his brain.
He heard the urgent, guttural moans before he realized they were
his and then he knew it was too late. She owned him. His body was
going to give itself up to her and there was nothing he could do to
stop it. Nothing he
would
do to stop it. He wanted this release like he
needed it to live.

His hands clutched her thighs as the
pressure inside him soared. His hips rocked into her, fast,
stuttering, rutting like some raw novice, but he couldn’t help it.
She looked so beautiful above him, a slight sheen of sweat glowing
on her skin, her hair disheveled and her cheeks flushed a fetching
pink.

He wanted to do something for her, wanted
her to share in this unbelievable pleasure but he no longer had any
control of himself. His orgasm was coming, flooding every nerve
with fire and suddenly his body seized and throbbed and he couldn’t
breathe and pain swirled with rapture as his body strained in
ecstasy.

He came down slow, cocooned in blissful
exhaustion, and didn’t immediately realize she was cleaning him.
Gradually his mind recognized the continuing tender sensations as
her caressing his skin with a warm, damp towel. With a contented
sigh, he stretched and blinked and looked up at her.

A silly grin stretched his face, he knew it,
but he couldn’t stop smiling. She had made him feel fantastic. He
reached out and touched her nose, caressed the rosy color along her
cheek. “What’s your name?”

“
Slave.”

“
No, it’s not a test.
What’s your true name? The one they call you on your home
world?”

“
That’s… another life,
Master. It’s not who I am now.”

She didn’t sound sad, more, sort of,
detached. He recognized that coping mechanism. Suddenly he felt…
yes, guilt again. He hated how it chafed his happy mood.

“
Is your life that
different?” he asked, his voice subdued.

“
Yes,” she answered
firmly. A long pause crouched between them before she added, “And I
don’t wish to remember.”

He nodded. He could respect that. “My
intimate name is Dzer-Jin. You may call me that when we’re not in
public.”

“
I hadn’t better… I don’t
want to forget myself, Master.”

“
I tell you what. When I’m
Dzer-Jin to you, you can tell me to go chase myself. You can say no
to me, all right? But only in private, when you’re calling me by my
true name.”

She nodded and swallowed. “Thank you.
Jhzair… Dzer-Jin.”

He sat up, intending to take the towel back
to the washroom for her. “And I’m going to call you… Ahno’ee.”

* * *

She had a name. He wasn’t going to toss her
away any time soon if he’d gone to the trouble of giving her an
actual name.

CHAPTER
ELEVEN

“
Thank you. It sounds
nice. What’s it mean?”

His mouth opened, then he paused. His right
hand went to the back of his neck and slowly rubbed. For a moment
she thought he was blushing, but that was just silly.