Pleasure Masters Page 6
At first, the gifts had delighted her almost as much as her freedom. There was something about doing without for so long, that finally having such things made her deliriously happy. She enjoyed trying on the gowns and jewels and seeing Raker’s eyes alight when he saw her in them.
Strangely, it never seemed to encourage him to make advances towards her.
The gifts and enjoyment of them could not contend with Raker’s mood. He acted happy to see her delight with his gifts, but his coldness did not go unnoticed. She wondered why he made no move to have sex with her, how a man could go from one extreme to another in so short a time.
Perhaps that was why he’d let her go, because he was tired of her. He’d seemed to form no attachment to her other than craving her in bed, and to suddenly stop puzzled her. She worried over it when she should have been finalizing her plans and sending contact to her cousins, packing her belongings.
She shouldn’t have been bothered by the development, but strangely, she was.
And then the thought that he intended on replacing her with a more willing woman entered her brain. The moment she finally connected the dots, she was disturbed. Deeply disturbed.
She wasn’t sure when she’d begun to think about Raker being hers, but she had.
Simply thinking of him replacing her with a willing woman after she was gone filled her with dread. It shouldn’t have bothered her. He’d given her her freedom after all.
He and his perversely pleasurable desires were no longer of concern to her. He had his life and she had hers.
But the fact remained that he seemed to want her gone. That he was eager for her to leave. She wondered if he gifted her to keep her mind away from the fact that he was tired of her.
And that rankled.
Immensely.
Maura was jealous and she knew it.
She wanted to believe there was no future for her with Raker. That her future was in the great beyond, with someone else. Her attachment had grown to Raker, however.
She had the freedom to go any time she wanted, to anywhere. She was no longer bound to him.
She found that she did not crave freedom nearly so much as she craved love. But was Raker even capable of such emotion when he’d never displayed anything of the like to her?
Chapter Seven
The day of her departure had arrived. She’d collected the new belongings Raker had given her into the hard silver case and waited for Raker to carry it out and lead her to the ship that would take her away from him forever.
Deep inside, she’d hoped to have some signal from him that he wanted things to be different, that he wasn’t tired of her or intent on replacing her. His continued silence made her want to yank the hair out of his head.
He returned to their suite after the games, his long black hair wet from showering. His skin smelled fresh and alluring as ever, and she felt herself drawn to him, more so than she’d ever been before. She craved his touch, a kiss, something that told her he cared. He did not look at her with lust in his eyes, only remained cold and emotionless.
She did not like the change any more now than she had when it had first come over him. She wanted to ask him if she was to be replaced by another woman, but the words wouldn’t seem to come out. Her throat felt sticky, and her mouth dry and unable to form words.
“Are you ready to leave? Do you have everything packed?” he asked, scanning the room.
Maura nodded. “I think so. I…I’m as ready as I’ll ever be I suppose. Thank you again for giving me my freedom,” she said softly, feeling choked up.
He grunted. “I didn’t have much choice.”
Her brow furrowed with confusion. “What do you mean? I thought this was something you’d decided.”
He sighed, scrubbing his jaw and picking up the silver case she’d packed like it weighed nothing. “Does it matter?”
She caught his wrist before he could walk out of the door. Her curiosity had reached its peak and could no longer be contained. She wanted to know before she was gone what his plans were. She found the courage to ask the question that had been burning in her mind for nearly a week. “Have you replaced me? Is that why you stopped touching me?”
Raker laughed, a cold, mirthless sound. “You could never be replaced. No woman will have me. No willing woman.” He turned his back on her.
She could see the tension in his shoulders and arms. He looked ready to explode. “What do you mean, no willing woman would have you?”
“Just what I said. It took women with no choice but death or life imprisonment to get mates for the ShadeShifters. None of you were willing. Given the chance, you would all leave. Just like you are.” He said the last with such disgust in his voice, it cut her to the quick.
Was that what he thought? That no woman could ever want them?
Maura grabbed him from behind, holding his arms, pressing her cheek against his back. He was a wounded soul, like she was. He didn’t know anything about a woman, other than giving and taking pleasure. How stupid she’d been! He didn’t know a woman craved communication and love, understanding. How could he when he’d never been given the chance, never had an opportunity to explore a relationship. She was most likely the first he’d ever had.
“Was…was I your first woman?” she asked, rubbing her face against his hard, immovable back.
A shudder rippled through him. “I had one once, when I was barely a man. But no more after that. Much of our race has been enslaved, and the women are as prized as the men. Don’t touch me. You make it…too…hard.”
She sighed, moving around him to face him. She looked up at him, saw sadness and pain etched across his face. She’d misunderstood so much. He was beastly, yes, but he needed healing and guidance to grow into the man he should become. “Make what too hard?” she asked, bringing her hand up to touch his face.
He flinched at the tender touch like some wild animal. “To let you go,” he said, his voice the barest whisper.
“You don’t want me to go?”
“It’s taking all my control to keep from tearing that gown off you and ravishing your brains out all over that bed. I need you. Too much. No. I don’t want to let you go.”
A dam burst inside her. She hadn’t realized how much alike they were, how much they both needed each other. Had lust turned to something more without either one of them realizing it? “What are you waiting for?” she asked, wetting her lips with her tongue.
“What are you trying to say?” he asked, dropping her case on the floor and staring down at her with a look in his eyes that mixed hope and fear.
“If you think you can love me and my mind, not just my body, I will stay with you,” Maura said, feeling breathless.
He wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her against him. “I am willing to try, if you are willing to teach me.”
She smiled, tipping her face up. “That’s all I needed to hear,” she murmured, stretching up on her toes to kiss him with all the fervor she felt in her soul.
He tensed, surprised to have her come to him, but the muscles of his arms and chest relaxed as he realized she wanted to remain with him.
Maura kissed him eagerly, projecting her hungry craving into the kiss. He tasted her, felt her desire, true desire for him for the first time. Not some coaxed lust that he’d demanded of her. This willing surrender turned him on and set fire to his blood.
He’d never experienced the like before, and drank her essence as if his life depended upon it.
She urged him backward, guiding him toward the bed. His knees met the mattress and he fell back with a grunt. She was on top of him before he could recover, unbuttoning his pants and refusing to relinquish the kiss.
She ate his mouth greedily, sucking his tongue, pushing his pants off him and freeing his erection. She seemed starved for his touch. Eagerly, he stroked her back and breasts, ripping the gown off her and baring her skin for his needy palms. He wanted to touch her everywhere, couldn’t move fast enough to satisfy them both.
Grabbing his cock, she tore her mouth from his and nibbled his jaw, guiding him inside her wet channel. The moment that slick mouth swallowed his cock, he knew he was lost. His mind splintered as sensation buffeted him.
She ground herself on him, riding him hard, driving their need to increasing heights. She was hungry and desperate, touching him, scratching his chest and nipples with her nails, eating his jaw and throat. He never knew she could be so wild. He succumbed to her, felt the jerking of her orgasm as her sweet cunt milked his cock.
Her spasms took hold of him and he found release deep within her womb, driving his hips up to greet her until ever last drop of semen had expended into her and still, he wished he’d had more.
Raker’s heart thundered in his chest, refusing to calm when she lay on top of him, stroking him lazily with her fingers and kissing him as if he belonged only to her.
This was what he’d been missing and hadn’t realized it. He’d thought bending her will was what he’d been after, but he hadn’t known how wrong he was.
“I love you, Raker. I don’t know why. Perhaps it was because you saved me from certain death and taught me not to be ashamed of my desires,” she murmured, kissing and nibbling his chest and playing in the hair there.
Raker stroked her long brown hair, feeling his heart continue to pound with excitement. Love and desire. He’d never thought to have it, even if it was only for a brief time. To have it now made him soar. “I love you, Maura Nephrite. I believe I shall enjoy your teachings very much.”
She chuckled, and for the first time in his memory, he felt his world was finally as it should be.
Pleasure Masters Book Two
DOMINATED
(c) copyright March 2013, Jaide Fox
Cover art by Eliza Black (c) copyright March 2013
This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.
Chapter One
“Let the games begin!” the Master of the Games announced to thunderous applause in the Coliseum of Thunder.
The Antarians who had gathered in a throng to see the ShadeShifters battle for the right to mate cheered with deafening cries. The stands reverberated from the force of their feet stamping on the bleachers. The walls seemed to hum from the power of their voices.
This was not the time to enjoy the praise of the crowd, however. Though it was not a battle to the death, every ShadeShifter gathered in the coliseum knew there were only so many women to be had for the taking. And every man there was willing to fight to the end or until a halt was called to the games for that right to a woman.
Long had it been since Navarre Viseus had tasted the pleasures of a woman’s flesh. Not since that bitch had betrayed him and sent him into destitution, driving him into the arms of the Planet Antares and the life of a gladiator to satisfy their bloodthirst for the games.
He’d required many binding markings after that day, for the rage at her betrayal had driven him to the brink of insanity. Even now, he felt the berserker biting the edges of his reason with only the memory of that woman.
He used his rage, channeled it into the tattoos covering his body. The markings glowed blue as he summoned his power. Wings carved from the flesh of his back, unfurling from his body to flap in the air. He felt the artificial wind stir in his short hair, raising his hackles.
Bowing his head, Navarre summoned claws to spring from his fingers, preparing to meet his foe and fight to the death if need be. They had a strict rule amongst themselves to avoid killing one another, but the threat of it was always there if any lost their mind in the bloodlust that fueled them.
It was that danger that kept them all on edge and kept the undivided attention of the crowd.
His challenger came at him when they’d both drawn their powers. Navarre ducked the slash of claws cutting across his neck, his foe narrowly missing the arteries that fed life-giving blood into his system. He returned with a slash of his own, angling his body into a better position with the flap of his wings.
Drakar grinned wildly, taking the blow and rolling across the dirt that covered the center of the arena. Furious blood pumped through his veins, strengthening his resolve. Sensing an easy defeat, Navarre drove down hard, striking Drakar on the temple with his knee and knocking the man out cold and out of the running.
Almost as soon as he’d conquered one foe, another sprang up to take that one’s place. It wasn’t difficult for any of the shifters to see who would dominate the games and who were the top candidates to gain access to a woman. Navarre was one of the strongest shifters, and the most likely to go berserk. Few had ever dared to cross him.
But the promise of fleshly delight was enough to drive any man to take chances he would not normally take.
Raker Anilan was a favorite to win. He was the strongest of the bunch, and so Navarre left him to his own devices. He didn’t need to take down the lead man, only to fend off any comers so that he would earn a place at the top.
Points would be awarded and tallied, but he knew what drew the crowd the most, he knew what would earn him the points he needed to reign victorious.
Two shifters came at him at once, hoping that a gain in numbers could make the difference in who went down first. Prepared for this tactic, Navarre slung his arm, extending the claws into tentacles that shot through the air as he threw one of the men down and shielded a blow with his other arm.
Above him, in the stands, he heard the crowd cheered. Their delight fed his power, pushing him ever closer to the edge. The tattoos binding his sanity glowed brighter, turning purple with light.
The foes spun from reach, moving in sync in opposite directions to keep him distracted and off balance. What they hadn’t counted on was the fact that his berserker, kept in check with the glowing markings, had always been barely restrained.
A growl ripped from his throat. His jaw ripped open, revealing rows of jagged teeth. Savage hunger exploded from him, driven by lust for flesh.
Dimly, he heard the sounds of battle around him, the cries of the wounded, the roars of the victorious. Above all, he heard the crowd. Fed off the crowd, fed off the battle, fed off the scent of coppery blood tingeing the air.
Movement caught the corner of his eye. He whipped his head around, felt a strike at his back and rolled. One of his wings ripped off his back, grasped by horrific fingers curled into black claws.
There was no time for pain, no time for weakness. He could die at any moment and knew it.
Blood pounded in his temples. Adrenaline surged through his system.
To his right, he rolled, ducking beneath the thick legs of an attacker, coming up with his hands and flattening the man’s dick and balls against his crotch. The man screamed in agony and fell to the ground, clutching his groin in pain.
Bleeding profusely, Navarre struggled to his feet, gaining momentum, willing the strength to return to his limbs as he faced the next foe and returned blows. Lightning fast, his reach grew, until he’d conquered another. His jagged teeth snapped at loose fingers, ripping off claws and digits alike.
Battle seemed to last hours, but he knew time was distended and warped. It always happened thus. A fog took over his brain, crowding out reason and feeling, fatigue, until there was only the feel of his fists striking flesh.
And then, he was surrounded by fallen men. Breathing hard, he felt the blood rush through his veins, felt his skin tingle from constant strikes. A heavy thudding closed his ears, but then he recognized the voice of the Master of the Games calling a halt to the fighting.
The victors were be
ing announced.
Navarre’s name came second.
Slowly, as though moving through a time warp and drowning in water, he felt the rush leave his body. His legs went weak, barely able to hold him up as he contained himself from further fighting.
At last, he would have himself a mate.
Medics rushed the field, taking care of the heavily wounded as the women were brought inside and paraded before the ShadeShifters and the crowd.