Captive Space (2 page)

There was no escape.

A few more options shot through her head. She came up with a few scenarios she thought might fit with her limited knowledge of these types of cultures. It didn’t take her long to realize her only option was to beg for mercy and relinquish her freedom but keep her godforsaken life by becoming one of the warriors’ slaves.

She slid her gaze to the side and took in Leanderus. Small talk seemed to be the only way to open the lines of communication.
But, I don’t want them to grow suspicious.

This is a farden friggin multi-spacecraft wreck on the I-995 galactic byway.

Her musings went from acceptance of what she had to do to how she needed to pull off her notion to downright disaster in the blink of an eye. Her gaze followed Leanderus’ strong fingers working the control pad outside a room. An involuntary shiver of sheer terror racked her body. And the damnable desire surging through her body ratcheted up a notch. “Is this the brig?”

“No,” Leanderus responded simply.

Her heart surged upward and seemed to lodge in her throat when she took in the accouterments of the room. Spartan was the only word to describe the space. She could count the contents of the room on one hand. Her gaze roamed over the low-to-the-ground bed, a desk, a dresser and another door, which she was almost certain led to a personal care compartment. If anything, the minimal furnishings, even the layout of the furniture, reminded her of her quarters aboard her ship. That was due to the nature of her craft’s duty. It was a Warbird. Physical space was at a premium for the sole purpose of maximizing the number of crewmen needed to keep her in tip-top shape, man her guns, and pilot the ship.

Audibly gulping, Shar’ia bit her lower lip when Leanderus escorted her to the bed. Her femininity clenched when he released his hold on the shackles and caressed a hot path up her arm. She gasped when he cupped her head in one of his huge hands.

Over the hard thudding of her heart, she heard her breathing turn to short pants. The soft strains of a song played in the background. It was a faint but sweet song that wrapped her in a cozy feeling of security. A low moan grew in her chest when Leanderus laid his hand on her hip. A female voice began to sing, but the sound level was so low Shar’ia couldn’t make out the words. She suddenly wished she knew where the volume control was for the speakers.

Leanderus released his hold on her head. The song fell off. “What?” she whispered almost inaudibly.

“I am not your chosen mate,” he told her cryptically.

The cold smile he pasted on his face made her step away from him. He didn’t appear angry. On the contrary, he looked relieved.
What the hell?

She dipped her gaze to view the erection tightening his already second-skin-like, black leather pants. Rational thought was thrown to the wind. Her body wanted sex. With him or whoever walked through the door next.

Couldn’t have asked for a better opportunity to save yourself, could you, Shar’ia?
“You want me to help you with that?” She pointed her finger toward his crotch. Beneath the passionate haze filling her head, she pictured herself laying him down on the bed and taking his cock into her mouth. “I was trained in sexual satisfaction by some of the best whores on Atlas Nine.” She hoped her tone was sultry.

“We’ll have to wait for your chosen mate to decide.” He sounded non-committal about that. “I cannot take you into Oblivion.”

Whatever.
She sent him a small smile, trying to entice him to play with her.
Go with the flow.
“Any idea who that might be?” She surveyed the strong planes of Leanderus’ face through the veil of her eyelashes. Her breasts ached for him to touch her. Her pussy cried to be filled with a thick cock.

“I am.” The sound of the Supreme Commander’s voice coming from behind her did incredible things to her blood pressure. “Leanderus, you may stay.”

“By the Gods of Atlas,” Shar’ia muttered. Visions of the two men fucking her flashed across her mind’s eye. The lewd scenes were better than a pricey holodeck fantasy. She could almost feel Leanderus thrusting his cock into her mouth while the captain pummeled her pussy with his penis. She closed her eyes. Her head fell back to connect with the firm wall of the Supreme Commander’s chest. “Ah,” she whimpered.

The song rolled over her when she was jerked back against the Supreme Commander’s chest. Unlike Leanderus, he wasn’t gentle. By the Gates of Afron, no, he was a warrior on a mission. He gripped her left breast through the thin cloth of her prison-issue jumpsuit. His other hand swept down her flat belly to cup her femininity. Through the material, his middle finger played along her wet slit.

Her legs threatened to buckle.

“I would see the talent of the woman the sand has mated me to,” he ordered in a no-argument-allowed tone. “Leanderus, leave her shackles on.”

“Aye, Joseferus,” Leanderus complied.

Shar’ia couldn’t form a cognizant thought if her life depended on it. Every nerve in her body screamed for release. “Please. Please. Please. Please.” A tear trekked slowly down her cheek. The power of the tune crashed against her with the force of a tsunami.

“On your knees,” Joseferus commanded.

Doing as she was told, Shar’ia knelt before Leanderus. Sobs wrought from her need inched up her throat. She bowed her head. Trying without much success to gather her sanity, she took a deep breath. Her shackles made a soft
clink
when she settled her hands on her thighs.

“Look at him.” Joseferus’ voice was like a laser lash striking her back. “You will do as you are told when you are told to do so. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“From this day forward, you will obey me and only me.”

Shar’ia swallowed around the clog of lust choking her. “Yes.”

“Look at him,” Joseferus repeated. A guttural growl followed his demand.

From the training she received in the back alleys of her home planet, Shar’ia knew better than to test Joseferus’ patience. She tilted her gaze to Leanderus. She watched him free his cock from his pants and wanted to faint.
Huge.
Part of her wondered if she could accept the monster erection; her body didn’t give a damn. All she knew was lust, and she lusted for both men.

“Open your mouth. I would see you service Leanderus.”

Listening to Joseferus walk away, Shar’ia quelled the urge to turn and see where he’d gone. The volume on the music dimmed until it was barely there. She parted her lips. Her tongue peeked out to lick the tip of Leanderus’ penis. Mewls escaped her throat as she tentatively took his hot flesh into her mouth.

Thankful he measured his strokes at first, she took as much of his cock across her tongue and down her throat as she could without gagging.
Yes. Yes. Yes.
Damn, she wanted this.

“Don’t touch him,” Joseferus called when she raised her hands to stroke Leanderus. She gripped her thighs instead. A stab of pain rocketed up her legs to twinge in her pussy when her nails bit into her tender flesh.

Leanderus gripped the heavy mass of her long, dark hair in his hands and began thrusting. Having no recourse, she took him deeper down her throat. She worked her tongue against the sensitive skin when he retreated.

Her crotch ached more with each inward and outward pull. In her mind’s eye, she imagined herself riding his cock. Her pussy filled and stretched to capacity. The sensitive nub at the juncture of her thighs hitting the base of his penis in just the right way to make her come. Taking him deep. Having a world-altering orgasm.
Please. Please. Please.

The vivid fantasy, complete with her moans of pleasure, drowned out the music. She was so damn close to a climax, it wasn’t funny, and neither man had really touched her body yet.

It was all in her head.

It was a fantasy she could dwell in forever.

She was nearly there, at the precipice separating maddening desire from the beauty of release, when Joseferus ordered Leanderus to stop. Leanderus didn’t thrust her away, but he might as well have kicked her in the stomach. He took a step back.

“No!” Reaching for his cock, the sobs she’d held at bay broke free. He efficiently dodged her mad grab for his erection. The heated daydreams vanished from her mind, but the unrequited lust was racing through her at trans-warp speed. Crumpling to the floor, she buried her face in her hand and cried out her frustration. Her other clutched the carpeting.

“Joseferus?” Leanderus’ voice hardly registered.

“She must be punished in accordance with the Navorain laws,” Joseferus responded. “We cannot disregard the severity of her crime.”

“She is not Navorain,” Leanderus countered.

A pause stretched between the two warriors. Shar’ia tried to calm herself. Joseferus’ next statement made her wish for death.

“She is now.”

Joseferus didn’t agree with The Council of Kings’ decision to punish Shar’ia according to the Navorain Legal Code, but he couldn’t disregard the fact she was caught with his clan’s most holy relic in her possession. Truthfully, this punishment, though harsh by the Navorains’ standards, was a slap on the wrist when compared side by side to InterGal’s sentences for transporting stolen artifacts. He couldn’t tell her—yet—how incredibly lucky she was that she hadn’t been charged with the actual theft.

If she had and was found guilty, The Council of Kings would have ordered her immediately put to death.

Narrowing his gaze on the woman the sand had deemed his first wife, he sighed. His cock ached to sink into her welcoming warmth. That was out of the question. For three days, she’d have to abstain from sexual gratification, and so would he. Once they’d gotten through the most painful part of her punishment, Shar’ia would never taste real freedom again.

Still, without consecrating their union, he couldn’t gain full insight into his new bride’s thoughts and motivations. It was a benefit wrought from the sand sweeping their planet of origin and the mystical dust all Navorains put their faith in.

The Sand of Lazarus Seven pushed him to complete the union. The law stood between him and its powerful influence. “Leanderus, you are dismissed.”

Leanderus, being her second husband, was a minor complication and not because he was going to be in their bed. That the sand deemed the junior officer and young warrior a member of his marriage didn’t faze Joseferus in the least. For eons, Leanderus’ clan and his had been attached through many influential marriages.

“Leanderus, do you have something to say?” Joseferus asked when the warrior didn’t move fast enough for his liking. He glared at the man until he righted his clothes and strode with a pained gait for the door. So young,
Joseferus thought.

Leanderus glanced over his shoulder before he left. The undiluted want in his gaze had Joseferus pulling up the tattered remnants of his discipline. He had to set the example for both Leanderus and Shar’ia.

Deep in his soul, he knew one truth. Leanderus wasn’t pleased that he’d been chosen as her second husband, and eventually, she’d become a proper wife, given time and a strong hand.

The circumstances of her crime threw a plasma-wrench into the works of this mating. Joseferus sighed. He turned his attention to the shivering woman. Another long exhalation broke from his throat. “It’s going to be all right, Shar’ia.”

Afraid if he touched her, he’d break the law, he gritted his teeth. His body was in hyper-drive and lusty. He considered his limited options.
Options? I have options?
“Come now, Shar’ia.”

Her tears made him want to roar. The sand’s influence made him nearly crazed.

Against his better judgment, he walked to where she lay on the floor and eased her into his arms. Cradling her against his chest nearly destroyed him. She felt so good. He adored the way her fingers fisted in his shirt. He could imagine her clinging to him as he brought her to orgasm, feel her feminine walls hug his cock as he thrust into her.

Cease.
Quelling the urge to toss her on the mattress and run for the closest cold shower, he gently set her in the middle of the bed. With deft moves, he released her wrists. “Easy,
Tesra
.” Reverently, he wiped the tears from her cheeks as he sat beside her.

“What’s…happening…to me?”

If she were Navorain, she’d understand the punishment. She’d also not expect an explanation, which he couldn’t give her. Transgressions were never discussed once a sentence was handed down. The minor telepathy he shared with her did inform him she was truly confused and teetering on the edge of a mental breakdown.

“Relax.” His voice was as rough as the exterior of a meteorite.

“I can’t.”

“Look into my eyes.” He urged her softly and waited for her to do as she was told. “Trust me.” He decided to take her into the place where the Navorain warriors found peace. Her gaze met his and locked. “Let the darkness envelope you. Comfort you. Keep you safe.”

Oblivion.
Joseferus mused. The Navorain Warriors’ afterlife, the place where there was no duty—no crushing weight of responsibilities. There was only the bliss of all-encompassing nothingness. Goose bumps rose on his arms as he held her at the edge of the chilling blackness. The temptation to take her into the inky dark nearly overwhelmed him. Through the power of the mystic sand, he listened to the music play. The sand was screaming for him to take Shar’ia deeper into Oblivion where he, like all warriors, found their satisfaction. The only place where they could attain an orgasm.