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Enslaved
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Текст книги "Enslaved"


Автор книги: Anderson Evangeline



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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 34 страниц)

* * * * *

Thrace tried to laugh but it came out sounding more like a croak to Trin.

“She doesn’t like me,” he muttered, nodding at Sidna’s retreating back. “Doesn’t like me one damn bit.”

“Because she doesn’t know you yet. Or trust you,” Trin said. She was still kneeling beside him, keeping one arm on his muscular bicep and watching him anxiously. From the moment she’d produced the collar, something had been wrong.

She’d seen his eyes go wide and the almost panicked look come into his face. She’d never seen that look on him before—not on the display platform in the Flesh Bazaar, not when he woke, chained to the cot and helpless, and not when they were surrounded and outnumbered by B’Rugh’s thugs.

But somehow the collar had brought that response out of him.

Why? Was it just because he’d nearly been killed by it before? That would certainly be reason enough to cause an extreme reaction but somehow Trin thought it was more than that. More of what she didn’t know. She only knew that at the sight of the collar the proud, fearless, reckless male she was coming to know and grudgingly respect had somehow lost himself. Or rather…he was only holding onto himself by a thread. Maybe that was why he’d shocked himself on purpose—to bring himself back, to clear his head somehow.

Or maybe he was just showing the crew they were safe. Come on, Trin—stop making up stories and deal with the reality, she lectured herself.

But the reality was that she’d seen genuine distress when she showed the collar to him…the reality was that his big body had trembled as she fastened it on.

But he still said the proper words and made the proper gestures, Trin reminded herself. It didn’t occur to her to wonder how Thrace knew the proper words and correct gestures. After all, they’d already established that she’d been wrong about his past. But there was something about the pain she’d seen in his pale, piercing eyes that twisted her heart.

If she’d really seen it there at all. Maybe she was just imagining things…

“I’m fine. I feel good.” Thrace was already getting to his feet again, dusting off the tight leather trousers and giving her an irreverent grin. “Well, was that show good enough for you, Mistress?”

“It was,” Trin acknowledged. Although she wondered how much of it was show.

“Good.” He nodded at her. “Well, let’s get back to the cabin. I assume I’ll be sleeping with you tonight?”

“What?” Trin looked at him, genuinely startled.

“At the foot of your bed, of course. As any good slave would.” He raised an eyebrow. “What did you think I meant?”

Trin cleared her throat, not willing to get into that.

“I’m sorry but the small room where you were before is supposed to be for my body-slave.”

“You mean the one where you had me chained down so I couldn’t move for days on end?” His voice dropped to a low growl. “Look, Mistress, no disrespect but I’m not going back in there. I…” He cleared his throat. “I can’t. Not on top of this.” He touched the collar lightly with his fingertips and winced again as he got a slight shock. The collar was wired to keep a slave from trying to take it off too.

“Thrace—”

“Please, Trin…it’s too much,” he muttered, meeting her eyes. “I fucking can’t. Not tonight, anyway.”

“I…” Trin wasn’t sure what to say. It was true that there was space on the floor at the end of her bed—her cabin was rather large as sleeping quarters went—probably because the ship had originally been built for an elegant and spoiled mistress from Yonnie Six. But she’d never expected to have to share it with anyone—most especially not a male.

Still one glance at his face convinced her. The look was back in his eyes—that indefinable look that made her wonder…that made her worry…that made her sorry.

“All right,” she said at last, stiffly. “But I’m sleeping with the remote in my hand. Come on, I’m tired.”

“As my Mistress wishes,” Thrace murmured and followed her out of the pod and down the long metal corridor without further comment.

Chapter Twelve

Sidna was waiting for her in front of her cabin door, as Trin had half expected she would be. She gave a mental sigh and straightened her shoulders, unwilling to show weakness although she was beginning to feel more weary than she ever had in her life.

“Sidna, what can I do for you?” she said, trying to keep her tone light.

“I’d like a moment of your time, Captain. Alone.” It was always a bad sign when Sidna called her by her title instead of her name. Inside, Trin groaned. Outwardly, she somehow managed to maintain a pleasant, professional expression.

“Of course. Thrace—go in the cabin please and turn my bed down for sleep. I’m tired.”

“I will. And then I’d like a shower, Mistress.” He raised his eyebrows at her, making it a request.

“Of course, that’s fine.” Trin nodded. “Just go.”

The huge Havoc nodded and walked into her cabin quietly. The metal door swooshed shut behind him.

Sidna looked at Trin, iron gray eyebrows raised in disbelief.

“So now you’re letting him sleep with you? A male? In your bed?” she demanded. “That’s sacrilege! The Goddess—”

“Of course he’s not sleeping in my bed,” Trin said briskly. “He’s sleeping on the floor so I can keep an eye on him.”

“Right. So you can keep an eye on him.” Sidna’s voice fairly dripped sarcasm.

Trin put a hand on her hip—time to nip this in the bud.

“What exactly are you implying, Sidna? And you’d better watch what you say. I don’t appreciate being insulted on my own ship.”

“I’m not implying—I’m saying that this…this male has you fooled. Somehow he’s convinced you that he’s trustworthy when he’s not—no male is and you know it!”

Trin felt her professional demeanor slipping. It had been a hell of a long day and she was bone weary and not completely sure about her choices. Which meant she really didn’t feel like defending them to her friend.

“You know how he convinced me to trust him, Sidna?” she demanded. “The fact that he came after me, all alone, and saved my life and my honor in the Demon’s Eye. Then he risked his own life to get me back here—fought off over a dozen of B’Rugh’s goons—and before you say that all males are disgusting beasts that only think about sex and breeding, he didn’t lay a hand on me either, even when I was completely vulnerable. Then he willingly let me put the collar on him just so you and the rest of the crew wouldn’t feel uneasy about him being on board. So that’s how he earned my trust. What else can he do to earn yours?”

“Nothing,” Sidna said flatly. “He’s a male—they’re inherently untrustworthy and you know it. But since he has you fooled, I’ll try my best to have your back when he turns on you.”

“He’s not going to turn on me like some rabid feral.” Trin couldn’t keep the exasperation out of her voice. “Look, is that all you came to say? Because I’m really tired—being in mortal danger and nearly being raped and killed will do that to a girl.”

Sidna’s lips thinned. “As a matter of fact, no that isn’t all. I also wanted to tell you that you have a message from Lady Malroth on Yonnie Six. I saved it for you on your private viewscreen.”

“Thank you.” Trin nodded. “That’s good news—maybe she’s ready to deal.”

“Maybe,” Sidna snapped. “And I guess you’re ready to deal as well—now that you have a body-slave at your side to legitimize you in the Yonnie Six circles.”

“I am,” Trin said calmly. “And as soon as I sell the Jaxite crystals I got from B’Rugh to Lady Malroth, I’ll make back the investment on Thrace. Then he’ll consider his debt paid, and he’ll go. All right?”

Sidna looked slightly mollified.

“Really? This isn’t a long term arrangement then? Because I never liked the idea of you buying a male slave in the first place and I don’t trust this one as far as I could throw him.”

“It’s just a one time thing,” Trin told her soothingly. “As soon as the deal is done, Thrace is gone.”

“Well…” Sidna took a deep breath. “I still don’t like it and I still don’t trust him. But I’m willing to stick by you, Trin—at least until Yonnie Six.”

“Thank you.” Trin put a hand on the other woman’s shoulder. “That means a lot to me, Sidna. Good medics are hard to find and good friends are even harder.”

A small smile graced the medic’s thin lips.

“Just be careful letting him in there with you. Sleep with that remote in your hand.” She nodded to the small, black rectangle Trin still held.

“I intend to,” Trin said gravely. “Now, I’d better go listen to the message Lady Malroth left. And then I’m going to get some sleep—I’m dead tired.”

“I’ll see you in the morning,” Sidna said, nodding. “Pleasant dreams, Trin.”

“Pleasant dreams, Sidna.” She watched the medic walk away with the feeling of a near disaster averted. Sidna was strong willed enough to stir the crew towards mutiny if she truly didn’t believe in a decision Trin had made. They’d had their differences in the past but never anything this severe. Trin just hoped she had put the older woman’s fears to rest.

And she hoped that Sidna was wrong about Thrace.

With a sigh, she went into her cabin and closed the door. There was nothing else to do.

* * * * *

When he came out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his hips, Thrace saw Trin was sitting on the end of her bed watching a message on the viewscreen.

“I received your message about your shipment of Jaxite crystals with cautious pleasure, mingled, I must confess, with more than a little trepidation,” a sharp, cultured voice said.

Thrace started to go back into the fresher—this was a private message, after all. But he could tell that the woman speaking was a mistress of Yonnie Six by the way she was dressed. She was wearing an outfit that was a bizarre mixture of modest and revealing. Her dress had a collar that went up to her chin and fell down to her ankles, covering her completely. It was a flat, opaque blue except for clear mesh panels over her breasts and the area between her thighs. Though they were technically covered, her breasts and sex were clearly revealed by the odd garment.

But her dress wasn’t the only strange thing about her—her hair was dyed deep blue to match her dress and swept up in an elaborate style that towered over her head. On her fingers, rings filled with rare and precious gems flashed as she talked.

Oh yeah, Yonnie Six, all right, Thrace thought. His old Master had had some dealings with the mistresses there—though he’d been forced to use a female envoy to conduct them. The Yonnites had absolutely no respect or use for males at all—except as body-slaves. That was about as much as Thrace knew about them and it was as much as he’d ever wanted to know. But since this call might affect his future freedom and Trin’s ability to sell the crystals, he figured he’d better listen in.

“My trepidation, of course, stems from the fact that last time you came to see me, you were not properly accessorized.” The Yonnie mistress emphasized the word. “I trust you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Trin muttered from the bed. “You want me to have a body-slave, you snobbish prig.” Her back was still towards him so she didn’t see Thrace standing in the shadows watching her. There was a slump to her slim shoulders that spoke of her weariness and he felt a surge of pity for his new mistress.

“I very much want the shipment and I’m prepared to give you a very fair price. But…” The mistress held up one ringed finger. “You must have a proper body-slave with you this time. It is of utmost importance as the only place I can see you is at the Landra-Rey Celebration. There will be other mistresses there as well and I must not be seen to associate with an inferior connection. Every move you make will be scrutinized so I hope you’re up to date on the current customs and fashions. As you know, they change daily—sometimes hourly—on our lovely world and only the latest fashions and trends will be tolerated.”

“Customs and fashions. Goddess of Judgment, give me strength!” Trin sighed and ran a hand through her long black hair.

“Your body-slave must also be perfectly behaved with only the finest manners. An impressive specimen will be in order so I hope you have procured one.”

“Oh, I think you’ll be impressed, Lady Malroth,” Trin muttered to herself and Thrace couldn’t help grinning. It was good to know she had confidence in his ability to impress the picky Yonnite mistress.

“The Landra-Rey Celebration is being held two days from now at Lady Tam-tams estate, Dreaming Hills, located in the countryside just north of Opulex. I will leave your name at the estate entrance and I hope to see you at the grand reception the first evening. There we can meet and talk and finalize our deal…if everything is acceptable.”

The message ended abruptly with no good-bye. Presumably Lady Malroth was too busy for such trivial courtesies.

“Well, it looks like we have our work cut out for us,” Thrace said, stepping forward.

“Oh!” Trin spun around, one hand to her heart and the remote to the pain collar gripped in the other. Her eyes widened when she saw him.

“Take it easy,” Thrace held out his free hand in a gesture of peace—the other was holding the too-small towel around his waist and he didn’t want to let it go. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Were you listening to my message?” Trin demanded, her dark eyes flashing.

Thrace nodded, seeing no point in lying.

“I figured it concerned us both.”

She sighed and seemed to lose some of her irritation.

“You’re right about that. I was hoping she’d be willing to grant me a quick, private audience in her own home to do this deal but no—apparently I’ve got to go to some weird celebration or other where my every move will be scrutinized in order to even see her.”

“What kind of celebration is it?” Thrace raised an eyebrow.

She shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know. The daughters of Zetta Prime are descended from the Yonnie Six mistresses but we stopped following their customs long ago.”

“Except for the one about having nothing to do with males,” Thrace pointed out dryly.

“Except for that,” Trin admitted. “Although even the Yonnites have more dealing with males than we do. They use them for body-slaves—we just prefer to avoid them altogether.”

“Too bad I seem to be unavoidable,” Thrace remarked, smiling at her.

A small smile ghosted across her lips in reply.

“I guess so.” She sighed. “Well, that message was dated from much earlier—it must have come in just as I was leaving for the Demon’s Eye. Which means we really only have a day to get ready and get ourselves back to Yonnie Six and this Landra-Rey Celebration.”

“Guess I’ll have to become the perfect body-slave,” Thrace said thoughtfully. “I’d better not screw this up for you if I don’t want to remain in your service for the rest of my natural life.”

“I’ll have to be the perfect mistress as well.” Trin sighed. “That’s not going to be easy. The Yonnites are so devious and round-about. I prefer straight-forward dealings where you know where you stand.”

“We’re going to be standing in quickmud the entire time and we’ll sink in up to our necks if we don’t keep moving,” Thrace muttered. “With your permission, I’d like to run a few searches on the viewscreen—I need to find out exactly what’s going to be expected of me.”

“Okay, but tomorrow.” Trin yawned and shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. “We’ll start early but right now I’m tired and really cold. I need a hot shower and then I’m going to bed.”

“A hot bath would be better,” Thrace pointed out. “I noticed you have a small bubble tub in there. You should submerge yourself in hot water—it would bring up your core temperature.” Not that it would help that much if she was still having after effects from the passion berries as he suspected. But it couldn’t hurt…

Trin shook her head.

“That sounds great but I’m too tired for a bath right now. Just a quick shower is fine. Um…” She cleared her throat and her eyes flickered down to the towel around his waist. “The storage locker in the corner has extra blankets and pillows and a few items of male clothing left by the mistress who used to own this ship. I think she had a slave that was about your size. Maybe you could find something to fit you.”

“I’ll look,” Thrace said, nodding. He was heartily sick of wearing the tight black leather pants the slavers had forced him into but the flimsy towel he was holding around his waist was hardly a viable alternative. He fervently hoped he might find something both more comfortable and more practical in the storage locker.

“Good.” Trin nodded at him briefly. “Okay, then I’m taking a shower. Good night.”

“Good night…Mistress.” The title still seemed strange to him, especially when he’d sworn to himself never to call her that. But it fit her somehow and Thrace found that the more he said it, the easier it came.

Shaking his head at the strangeness of it, he went to the storage locker she’d indicated and started to look for something new to wear.

Chapter Thirteen

Trin turned over on her side and rolled herself into a ball, pulling her knees in tight to her body. Goddess of Judgment, she was cold! And no matter what she did, she just kept getting colder. She’s already put two extra thermal blankets on and she was wearing thermal socks too. She wished she had some thermal sleepwear but the thin, silky sleep dresses which had so bothered Thrace when she wore them around him were the only nighttime garments she possessed.

Speaking of Thrace, he had apparently found himself a pair of sleep trousers to wear in the old clothes left by The Alacrity’s last owner. He had taken a pillow and a single thin blanket and was lying quietly on the floor at the foot of her bed.

Trin had been relieved to see that he was wearing more than the tiny, thin towel he’d been holding around his waist when he came out of the shower. She’d been seeing him shirtless for days now and she’d even handled his “equipment” when he was chained down and needed help to relieve himself. But back then she’d been thinking of him as just a big, not-too-bright animal.

Now she saw his intelligence and admired his bravery and sense of humor. She was, she realized, beginning to know him as a person and that changed the way she felt about him. Seeing him naked or almost naked made her feel…strange. And the idea of letting him see her in a similar state of undress was also uncomfortable. She’d been glad the room was dark when she came into the sleeping area, her thin robe belted tightly around her to keep from revealing anything. And also glad that his bare, muscular chest was mostly covered by the thin blanket.

Not that she cared for the male form, she told herself. But when he’d come out of the shower and she saw him standing there so tall and massive with the wide planes of his bare chest and broad shoulders beaded with water, her stomach had done a funny little flip. Only because he’s aesthetically pleasing to the eye, she told herself uneasily, remembering it now. With those sculpted abs and his long, muscular legs he’s a damn near perfect specimen. Lady Malroth is certain to be impressed.

But no matter how much she tried to tell herself she was only admiring him in a purely artistic sense, it couldn’t be denied that her stomach had never done that funny little flip when she saw a naked female. Her lack of reaction to others of her sex had led her to believe that she might be mostly asexual. Indeed, though she enjoyed playing with her clitoral stimulator, she never fantasized about other women or anyone else as she did so. She simply enjoyed the pleasurable sensations of the buzzing little vibrator until she reached a gentle orgasm and drifted off to sleep.

So why did she feel so strange when she watched Thrace move around in that tiny, thin towel? Trin had no answer. But the memory of his big, muscular body, nearly naked and beaded with water certainly did something for her. Maybe it was because he was so big or so different from her. He was hard where she was soft and his voice was so deep…it was strange but just the thought of him lying there at the foot of her bed was almost enough to warm her up. Almost.

Trin shivered again.

“Goddess, I’m so cold. What’s wrong with me?” she muttered, burrowing deeper into the covers.

“I’ll tell you what’s wrong with you,” a deep, familiar voice murmured from the darkness.

“What?” Trin sat up, shivering. “Thrace? I thought you were asleep.”

“Nah. I’m just lying here listening to you thrash around trying to get warm. But you’re never going to manage it.”

“What? Why not?” Trin demanded. “And how do you know, anyway?”

“I know because I know about passion berries—they’re native to my home world. You’ve still got some of the residue from that sip of wine you took in your system. The cold you’re feeling is an aftereffect and it’ll probably last for a few hours, if not the rest of the night.”

“The rest of the night?” Trin felt a surge of despair. She needed to sleep so she could wake up fresh and start preparing for the ordeal ahead of her on Yonnie Six. She had no time for lying in bed sleepless and besides, she felt like a block of ice. The cold wasn’t just uncomfortable—it was downright painful. “What can I do about it?” she demanded, pulling the thermal blanket closer—not that it did any good. “Since you know so much about passion berries.”

“Nothing,” he said flatly. “There’s nothing you can do.”

“Well, then what—?”

“But there’s something you can let me do.”

“What do you mean?” Trin felt uneasy.

“You can let me hold you. The passion berry compound demands physical contact to counteract its symptoms. That’s how I was able to warm you up before—by holding you.”

Trin vaguely remembered waking up and finding herself held in the big Havoc’s lap. He’d put her down pretty quickly, however—before she could start feeling too awkward. But now he was asking to get into bed with her and hold her in his arms. It seemed dangerous somehow, and not just because she was worried about having to use the pain collar to keep him in line.

He was silent for a long moment as she thought about it. Did she want to do this? Did she dare? Did she dare to let him climb in her bed and press his big, muscular body against hers? His big, muscular, warm body, whispered a practical little voice in her head. That’s the operative word, Trin. It may be awkward but at least it’s warm.

But what if he tries something? Like the things he was talking about while you had him chained to the cot? a voice in her brain demanded. What are you supposed to do then?

The thought gave her pause. As intriguing as she was beginning to find Thrace and the male form in general, she still had absolutely no wish to be penetrated by a male. Ever.

“If you’re worried, I’ll try something, don’t.” His voice was calm and matter-of-fact in the darkness. “I told you I don’t take females against their will and besides, you’ve got the remote.”

Trin cleared her throat.

“Of course I’m not worried about that,” she lied. “It’s just…I only have on one of my night dresses—the kind you said bothered you so much. I just thought—”

“That I wouldn’t be able to control myself if I felt your body pressed to mine with only a thin little scrap of fabric between us?” He gave a rumbling laugh. “Don’t worry, Mistress, I know my place. And we males aren’t nearly as animalistic as you’ve been led to believe. I can reign myself in.”

“Well…” Trin still hesitated but the cold was spreading and now her teeth were starting to chatter. “A-all r-right,” she said at last. “Come here. But if I ask you to l-leave and go b-back to the floor, I expect instant obedience.”

“Yes, Mistress,” he murmured. And then he was sliding into bed, under the covers beside her and gathering her into his arms.

At first Trin stayed curled in a protective ball with the pain collar remote clutched tightly in one hand and held to her chest. It seemed the most prudent thing to do and besides she felt awkward and uncertain, allowing a male into her bed no matter how valid the reason.

Thrace didn’t seem to care about her awkward pose. He simply gathered her close, wrapping his long arms around her and holding her to his chest. His body heat went to work on her at once and little by little, Trin felt her frozen extremities starting to thaw.

At last he spoke softly in the darkness.

“It would be better if you’d relax a little. If you’d come a little closer I could warm you to the core—that’s what you need.”

Trin did long to feel the delicious heat she felt coursing through her arms and legs warming the rest of her.

“Well…all right,” she said at last. Slowly and carefully, she allowed her body to unknot.

“That’s good,” Thrace murmured. “Now, here…” He drew her close to him, her back to his chest, and wrapped his arms around her in a firm but loose hold that clearly let her know she was free to go at any time. He pressed his legs to the back of her thighs and knees and settled her securely against him, so that her head was resting on his muscular bicep. “How’s that?” he murmured.

Trin hardly knew how to answer. The sensation of being held by the huge Havoc was both odd and comforting at the same time. She felt completely surrounded by him—cradled and protected by his big body. It reminded her of being a very young child because that was the last time in her life she’d been small enough for another person to so completely surround and cradle her.

It was a little scary to feel so tiny and vulnerable in the arms of a male she knew could break her in half with one hand. And yet…she didn’t feel threatened by Thrace. Not at all. She somehow knew he would use his strength to protect her, not to hurt her.

Of course, all that was much too complicated to say in answer to his question.

“This is nice,” she said at last. “Warm…or warmer, I suppose. My face is still cold though. Those damn passion berries are awful—the tip of my nose is like ice.”

“That’s easy to fix.” Before she could protest, he flipped her over so they were face to face—or face to chest, in this case since he was so big—and pulled her close again.

Trin started to protest but the heat radiating from his big body was immediately addictive. It felt like she’d been standing in the doorway with her face in a cold wind and someone had suddenly turned her towards a roaring fire. Now her frozen skin was beginning to thaw and she found she lacked the will power to tell him to stop and let her go at once.

Just a minute or two, she told herself. I’ll just lay like this a minute or two and then once I’m completely warm I’ll send him back to his place on the floor.

Feeling better about the situation now that she had imposed a time limit, Trin snuggled closer. She took a deep breath and the Havoc’s warmth surrounded her—he seemed to radiate heat like a furnace. And along with the heat, came his warm, spicy scent.

Trin breathed it in—it was rich and dark with hints of leather and some kind of musk she didn’t recognize. There was something about it…something other. A primal, masculine fragrance she’d never encountered until she met Thrace. Maybe it was hormonal in some way or maybe it was just a Havoc thing but for whatever reason, it smelled damn good. Trin found herself inhaling it eagerly, even pressing her face to his chest to get closer to the source.

At the same time, the rest of her was getting closer too. Her breasts, bare beneath the thin silky night dress, were pressed shamelessly to his hard abs and somehow her arms had slipped around his trim waist, the remote clasped loosely in one hand. Her pelvis was pressed to his and their legs had become entwined so that one of his long thighs was between hers.

Though she had never been this close to a male before, this somehow seemed perfectly all right to Trin. After a moment, though, she realized that something long and hard was branding her hip through her night dress and the thin fabric of Thrace’s sleep trousers.

What’s that? At first her mind could make no sense of it. She was too busy enjoying the sensation of warmth and closeness. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d allowed herself to cuddle with another person this way. There had been a few times when she was in the piloting academy when she had paired off with a classmate but they were all female and the female form, though beautiful, did not attract her. She had found early on that it did nothing for her sexually to have the soft, small frame of another female pressed against her own.

On the other hand, having Thrace’s big, hard body surrounding her own made her tingle everywhere in a most disturbing way.

The big Havoc shifted restlessly and the hard ridge of flesh poked her hip again. Trin frowned. Something long and hard between his thighs, pressing against me…what…? This time her brain made the connection.

“Oh!” She jumped back from him at once, putting a foot of space between them.

“What’s wrong?” His voice seemed slightly hoarse, although it was hard to tell since it was already so deep.

“You…your…” Trin didn’t know what to call it. “Your male equipment is poking me.”

“Yeah, well…” His shoulder lifted in a kind of half shrug which she could barely make out in the dim light from the floor glows. “It’s to be expected.”

“Expected? What are you talking about?” Trin demanded. She felt upset… betrayed. “You told me you could control yourself!”

“I am controlling myself,” he growled. “I’m holding a beautiful, half naked female in my arms and I’m not doing a damn thing but lying here. Believe me, that takes a hell of a lot of control.”

“But…your equipment…”

“My shaft gets hard when I’m aroused—it’s automatic. I can’t stop it.” He shrugged again. “Sorry—there are limits to what I can control, even for you, Mistress.”

“So…you’re admitting you’re aroused?” Trin didn’t know how to feel about that.

“I can’t help it,” Thrace rumbled. “You’re fucking gorgeous and you smell incredible. What can I say? Holding you makes me hard.”

“If you knew that holding me would make you…feel that way, then why did you offer to do it in the first place?” Trin demanded. “Was it just to…to get off?”

“Have I grabbed you in any way?” he demanded, sounding offended. “Have I cupped your breasts or put my hand between your thighs to feel your soft little pussy?”


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