Chains of Desire (14 page)

She kissed his neck. “Thank you, Master.”

He slipped out of her, slid off her and propped up on his
elbow beside her. “Thank you, slave.” She smiled up at him. She looked well
used. And happy about it. He started to get up and she placed her hand on his
chest to stop him.

“Where are you going?”

“To get the Marvel Cream to heal your skin.” He loved the
way the cord marks snaked up her arms and legs, but it was too early in this
new relationship to ask her to wear his mark.

She didn’t drop her hand. “I don’t need the Marvel Cream.”

He caught the cuff on her wrist and lifted her hand to his
lips. He softly kissed each fingertip because he didn’t know how to express the
strong emotions that were overwhelming him at this moment. Emotions he couldn’t
even name. “But aren’t you sore?”

“A little bit, but I don’t mind.” She stretched her body,
arms and legs and shoulders and neck. The graceful way she moved made his cock
twitch again. “When I move and I feel that delicious little ache, it reminds me
of what we just did together.” She held out her arm, with the red cord marks
clear on her skin. “When I see these marks, I remember. I remember you’re my
Master and I remember the pleasure we shared.”

Jarrod knew she meant it now, in the afterglow of intense
sensations, but would she feel this way later, when she was with her own
people? “Aren’t you concerned what the other women might think when they see
the marks?”

Her eyes flashed. “I’m not ashamed.” She pulled his head
down and kissed him softly, a mere brush of her lips against his. “You’re my
Master, I’m your slave.”

“I am very pleased you want to keep my marks.”

She reached out and began to trace the edges of his tattoo.
He stiffened. He hated the memories from these marks. But he didn’t stop her.
Her touch was almost healing as he concentrated on the pleasures of the moment
and not on the horrors of the mines.

“I love your tattoo,” she said, smoothing her finger over
the dark lines that covered his nipple. “Does the design have some
significance?”

He could have lied to her. He could have said no. He could
have made up a story and she would have believed him. But instead he found himself
spilling a story no one knew, except Micah.

“I was sold to work in the mines on Trania when I was
sixteen.” She gasped and began to sit up, but Jarrod shushed her and stroked
her soft hair. She looked up at him from the pillow, her eyes wary. “My parents
couldn’t afford to feed all of us. I was the oldest and the money they were
paid for me would feed the rest of them for years.” He didn’t really blame his
parents. “It happens all the time.”

“Not on Vanya.” She sat up then, despite his hand on her shoulder.
“How could a parent sell their child?”

“It was only supposed to be for six years.” Acid burned in
his stomach as he remembered. “In six years my labor would have paid off the
debt and I would be free.”

“What happened?”

He didn’t answer her right away. “You asked about the
tattoo.” He pulled away from her and sat back, resting his back on the wall.
“This is the mark of the mine.” He rubbed his hand over the tattoo, he could
remember the pain as if it was yesterday. In fact, he swore it was aching now.
“I was strapped down to a table, terrified. I didn’t know what they were going
to do. Then, as they brutally pounded ink into my skin for hours, they
explained.”

Hanna scooted across the mattress to sit beside him and took
his hand as he talked.

“They started with the thick outer circle that surrounded
the entire left side of my chest. To cover my heart because I now belonged to
the mine with my heart and soul. In the center they put the sunburst, to stand
for the sun I would never see again.” He squeezed her hand, only stopping when
she winced from the pain. “Sorry.” He kissed her knuckles.

“The tranium mines are underground. So are the living
quarters. Once you’ve descended into the mine, you never get out.” He shuddered
as he remembered the damp stench in the air. Breathing in the thick dust. The
cries of the hungry, exhausted workers. The agony of the tattooing process.
“Then they added these six thick lines to represent my six years of labor.”

Hanna rubbed her hand over the tattoo. “But there is so much
else here.”

He nodded. “I’d just started my sixth year when Gaylock
called me into the office. Gaylock is the mine supervisor. A crude, cruel man
who lived off the backs of the men and women who worked there.” Jarrod cleared
his throat. “He and I had never gotten along because I spoke out against the
way he treated the laborers.”

She nodded. “You were very brave.”

He shrugged. “Anyway, as soon as I walked in the door of the
office, he shot me with a dart gun. Drugged me. When I woke up I was strapped
to the tattoo table. It was the first jab of the thick needles that brought me
back. They added two more lines in between each of the six already there.” He
took Hanna’s hand in his and rubbed her fingers over the slightly thinner
lines. Her touch relieved some of the ache the memories brought back. “Gaylock
said I didn’t work hard enough and I hadn’t earned back the money he gave my
parents.”

“All those lines,” Hanna whispered. “All those extra years?”

He nodded, his body rocking with the movement. “I didn’t have
the best attitude before, but I admit it got a lot worse after that. See all
these designs in between the year-lines?” He traced her fingers over the thin
diagonal lines drawn between some of the thicker ones. Others were linked by
zigzagged lines or other designs. “Gaylock knew how much I hated to be
tattooed, so every time I stood up to him, every time I intervened when he was
hurting another worker, I got dragged to the table for some more ink.”

“Oh Jarrod.” Hanna leaned over to kiss his ink-covered
nipple. “You didn’t let that stop you though, did you? You still fought for
what was right. You have a lot of ink between these lines.”

“That’s how I met Micah. You know how big he is. There were
six guards beating him for some small infraction, with Gaylock cheering them
on. I couldn’t stand back like everyone else and watch him get beat to death.”

“Did that happen a lot?” she asked breathlessly. “Did
workers get beat to death?”

“Yeah.”

She took a deep breath. “What happened?”

“I just jumped into the middle of it. I knew Gaylock would
be so angry at me that he’d forget about Micah.”

“It must have worked.”

“See this section here?” He traced her finger down the
section of intricate crosses that ran from the bottom of the sunburst through
his nipple until it reached under the curve of his chest muscle. He’d suffered
through a full day of inking for that one.

Hanna ran her lips along the route her finger had traced,
laving his nipple tenderly with her tongue. “I love it. It’s beautiful.”

“What?”

“Don’t you understand? It’s a reminder of how good you are.
How strong you are. What you’ve survived. What you’ve overcome.”

“You know, anyone who recognizes this tattoo will know I was
a slave in the mines.” Would that affect her decision to remain with him?

She rubbed his fingers over her collar. “Just as I am
forever marked as a Norian sex slave.”

“We make a good pair, don’t we?”

“I’d say we do.” She smiled and kissed him. “Now tell me.
How did you get away?”

“The only route to the outside was through Gaylock’s office,
which was usually heavily guarded. Micah and I had become friends. We worked
together side by side and talked about what we’d do if we ever got out. We
decided we’d try to break out together and to keep looking for an opportunity.
After a couple years, there was a huge fire in one of the pits at the far end
of the mine. All the guards went to fight the fire, leaving Gaylock alone.
Micah and I seized the chance. We stormed his office, catching him off-guard.
He couldn’t get to his weapon in time and we overpowered him easily. Of course,
the dozens of other mine workers who followed us in were happy to finally get
their licks in.”

“So you escaped.”

“Yeah.” No need to go into all the details, the months of
hiding out, half-starved, until they made friends with an old cargo ship
captain who took them on, worked them hard and taught them both how to fly the
Galaxy
.
Then sold them the ship when he retired. “We’re finally reaching our dream of
that trading post on Ceylon 7.”

“I want to hear all about it.” She yawned and then
apologized.

He could talk with Hanna for hours about his plans. Shocked,
Jarrod realized he
had
been talking for what seemed like hours. In bed.
With a woman. Something he’d never done before.

“We’ll talk about it later. You’re tired.” He stretched out
on the bunk and curled her into his embrace. There was nothing like the
sweetness of her head on his shoulder, her soft legs wrapped around his. She
was soon sleeping in his arms. That’s something else that had never happened
before.

How quickly she’d changed his life.

* * * * *

The next morning Hanna chatted with the princess and the
other women in the lounge, sharing stories of their ordeal. When Jarrod strode
into the room carrying his weapon, her heart beat faster. She smiled brightly
as she admired his commanding presence. But she noticed the women froze and
went silent.

Hanna nodded to Jarrod. “Good morning.”

He smiled at her warmly and propped the weapon up against
the wall. “Good morning.” He glanced around the room. “Micah and I have been discussing
the situation and we’re not convinced there won’t be any more trouble from
Noria.” He paused when a few gasps ran through the room. “We thought it would
be a good idea to teach all of you some basic self-defense.”

“Excellent idea,” Princess Serena said. Hanna agreed. The
other women didn’t look so sure. Serena rose and approached Jarrod. “Where do
we start?”

Hanna watched as Jarrod demonstrated how to use hands and
knees and elbows as weapons. Serena took to the lessons with great relish, even
surprising Jarrod once, knocking his feet out from under him. His rich laughter
as he was sprawled on the floor washed over Hanna like warm rain.

It was fascinating to watch her gruff Master coax some of
the more timid women into participating. Hanna smiled as she saw this patient
side of him. And she was glad to see her friends warming up to her Master.

Hanna was the last to go through the lesson. Even knowing
Jarrod, his sheer size and strength was intimidating when she tried to chop him
in the windpipe or kick out his knees. She couldn’t imagine trying these moves
on someone attacking her. Her small size was a definite disadvantage.

She’d rather use her wits. Or a TX-95.

Jarrod picked up the weapon and showed it to the women.
“There are only two of these weapons on the ship, but if attackers get onboard,
I don’t want any of you afraid to use them.” The women gasped when he handed
the weapon to Hanna. “Hanna, show them how to use the TX-95.”

Hanna glowed with pride that Jarrod allowed her to
demonstrate what she’d learned about the weapon. She showed them the safety
button and how it changed from red to green when it was ready to fire. “Don’t
pick up the weapon unless you intend to use it,” she told them, repeating the
words Jarrod had told her before.

“The weapon shoots a concentrated energy beam,” Jarrod said.
“It is safe to use on the ship as long as you hit your target. The energy ball
will engulf the attacker and vaporize him.” He took the weapon from Hanna, his
warm touch lingering for a moment on her hand. “But you better make sure you
hit your target. If you miss and the energy beam hits the outer wall of the
ship, the wall will disintegrate and we’ll all be killed.”

“I don’t think I could do it,” Hanna said, horrified at the
thought of accidentally blowing a hole in the side of the spaceship.

“You could do it.” He handed the weapon to the princess. She
took it hesitantly, looked at it suspiciously. “I want each of you to hold the
weapon so you know what it feels like, how heavy it is. Princess, would you make
sure the safety is on, then pass it on to someone else?”

She nodded and, after examining the weapon, handed it off to
the next woman in line.

Hanna stood beside Jarrod as each woman took their turn,
taking comfort in his quiet strength.

When they were done checking out the weapon, Princess Serena
handed it back to Jarrod. “Thank you for showing us how to defend ourselves. I
hope the Gods will give us an uneventful journey home.” She gestured to the
other women. “Minna and Dove have spent a lot of time in the kitchen at the
palace. We’re going to see what we can do to stretch our meager provisions.
Thank you again for taking us with you and sharing what you have with us.”

“Of course, Princess. You are very welcome.”

Hanna watched them walk out, leaving her with Jarrod. “I’m
going to miss them.”

“Are you?”

“Yes. I’ve known them since I was small.”

Jarrod took her hand, led her over to the short sofa and sat
down beside her. “Were you born in the palace?”

“No. I was brought to the king when I was four years old.”
She could barely remember her parents, her older brothers and sisters. She took
a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I think I owe you an apology.”

He wove their fingers together and lay their hands atop his
thigh. “For what?”

“When I said that Vanyan parents would never sell their
children as your parents did.” She sighed. “I think that must be what my
parents did. I was about the same age, size, coloring as the princess. I
wouldn’t be surprised if my mother and father were well compensated for providing
the kingdom with a royal decoy.”

He lifted their joined hands to his lips and kissed her
fingers lightly. “Were you treated well?”