Enslaved (5 page)

— IV—

Jane’s hand trembled as she
set the rook in place. “Check.”

She kept her expression of triumph subdued, looking down at the board while Zenovia considered her next move.

The most stressful, important game of chess she’d ever played. It had taken all the clarity she possessed to play carefully, to take her time with her moves, and to think ahead with strategy. Jane was an excellent chess player thanks to Effie, who’d spent many an evening playing with her while her father worked in his study.

But considering that her body still hummed, and she was utterly aware of the woman sitting across from her—and the predicament in which she found herself—Jane had had a difficult time concentrating.

But now, she’d just played what she hoped would be the third-to-last move in a game she would win…and then…

Jane swallowed hard. Though she despised the situation in which she found herself, she also could not keep from looking at Zenovia…noticing the thrust of heavy raindrop breasts that shivered behind her toga, and the full sweep of her lips…and the
hand
. The hand, the fingers that had so easily and ruthlessly drawn pleasure from her.

The scent of Jane’s own musk still hung in the air.

Zenovia reached with that very hand to move her king’s bishop into place, and Jane’s heart nearly stopped.
That was not the move I expected
.

“Check…mate.” Zenovia looked up at her with a most satisfied expression, her hot, dark eyes pinning Jane in place.

A rush of cold shock followed by a wave of heat flooded her as she stared at the board.
No
, she thought.
No!

But there was no way out. No escape. The game was over.

“You were much more skilled than I anticipated, but in the end, lovely, lovely Jane, you’ve succumbed.” Zenovia’s voice dropped into a caress. “Nevertheless, I’m not at all disappointed. You were more of a challenge than most men I’ve played. And because of that, you will take on a most powerful, important position.”

“No,” Jane said, standing abruptly, moving out of reach of Zenovia. “You cannot keep me here. You cannot force me to stay and be your…”

“Concubine.” Zenovia smiled and rose easily from her seat. “You have no idea of the honor which I would bestow on you.”

“It’s no honor to me. I’m a married woman, I love my husband, and I have no desire to be your concubine or to even stay here in Amazonia. I want only to return to London.” Jane started toward the door, unsure of what she would do if she even made it through, but determined to try.

To her surprise, Zenovia didn’t attempt to stop her. And when she reached the exit and flung the doors open, Jane realized why: the guards were there. And they were not about to allow her to pass. Long pikes came down and blocked the way, and one of them prodded at her, leaving Jane no choice but to back into the chamber.

The doors closed again and she turned, her heart pounding, her breathing fast and shallow, and her body tingling with unwelcome anticipation.

Zenovia appeared to have waited patiently for Jane to realize she would not be going free, and in the mean time she’d walked over to the large sunken pool. Through the roaring in her ears, the thudding of her pulse, Jane heard the splash of water as it tumbled enthusiastically into the large pool. A soft floral scent filled the air.

“Come, Jane. You won’t be leaving…and you might just as well relax.” Zenovia turned away, and when she pivoted back around, she pulled the silky black toga from her body and let it fall in a crumpled, dark cloud on the tile floor. “And enjoy.”

Jane could not pull her eyes away, for Zenovia was pale and beautiful. Strong, tall, powerful, with lean muscles in her arms and legs, a firm, ridged belly with a flat navel. Not a soft curve anywhere but at her breasts. They were the size of grapefruits, hanging in gentle teardrops that swayed enticingly with each movement. She had dark areolae and eager red nipples, and the patch of closely trimmed hair at the apex of her thighs was the same corn-silk color as that of her braid.

“I…” Jane’s mouth went dry even as that subtle tingle in her belly darted again, deep and strong. She knew what was going to happen. She knew those hands, that mouth, that body would be on hers…against hers.

And already her own desire grew. Already, she felt herself swell and dampen and begin to throb.

“I have been patient thus far, but I warn you, Jane, it is not boundless. Clearly you are a passionate, experienced woman who enjoys pleasure. Allow me to give you some.”

“I am married. I love my husband,” Jane said again, desperation in her voice. “I…” She moistened her lips. She really had no choice. “One night. One night, and then you will release me.”

Zenovia held out her hand, the cords of her muscles long and taut. “Come to me, Jane. Let me give you pleasure.”

“Please…” Jane said, her heart thudding. “Promise me you will allow me to leave. Tomorrow.”

Zenovia’s eyes darkened, and Jane’s heart lurched at the fury suddenly blazing therein. She remembered suddenly, acutely, that she was at the mercy of this queenlike woman, that there were guards everywhere, and that she had nowhere to go and no one to help her should she be released or find escape. “You try my patience. Take that off.” Zenovia’s voice cracked out like a whip, and a surge of apprehension overtook Jane.

With trembling fingers, she unfastened the brooch at her waist and then the one at her shoulder. Once released, the fabric slithered down over her breasts, belly, and thighs like a silky hand and puddled in a soft pile at her feet.

“Magnificent,” Zenovia purred, but the burn of desire in her eyes was not nearly as controlled…and its intensity frightened Jane. “Come to me.”

Jane sensed she must obey or risk truly infuriating the woman, and so she walked steadily toward her. Her heart beat faster and her palms became damp. Sensation sparked through her at every jounce of her breasts, and the delicate swipe of pressure against her tiny pearl with each step. Her hair, which had come loose during Zenovia’s gentle attack, brushed against her skin like a trickle of fingers.

Jane expected to be dragged close, and kissed and fondled…but when she reached Zenovia, the other woman merely held out a hand. When she took it, strong fingers closed around her smaller ones and the chieftain took her toward the pool. The water steamed and bubbled with some delicate white froth, and the gentle floral scent was stronger now, filling Jane’s nostrils.

Zenovia led the way into the water, stepping down several steps until she was submerged to just beneath her breasts in the pool. She tugged Jane after her, gripping her firmly as if to ensure she didn’t pull away. The hot water closed around her, lifting the tips of her hair, relaxing her muscles and releasing an even stronger flowery essence.

She hadn’t stepped all the way into the water when Zenovia turned and met her at the end of the stairs. Here, Jane was taller than normal, and her hostess didn’t tower over her quite as much, so they were nearly eye to eye.

“Surely this is not the first time you have been with a woman,” murmured Zenovia, wrapping an arm around Jane’s waist. She pulled her close so their bellies plastered together and the water surged around them, then reached up to brush a lock of hair from Jane’s face. Their breasts touched, and Jane couldn’t help but shiver at the unexpected, unfamiliar sensation of soft globes of flesh brushing against her.

“It is,” she whispered, trying not to look at the way their nipples
nearly
touched, nearly kissed…quivering so close to each other. Hers seemed to strain toward the other, larger, darker pair…

“Someone with your passion…your responsiveness? I can hardly believe it,” Zenovia said. “There has been no woman to touch you and taste you…to give you pleasure the way only a female can?”

Images flashed through Jane’s mind. There had been Marcine, of course, and the women in the jungle village…but that was different. She hadn’t
been
with them. Not in the way she suspected was about to happen now.

“No,” she managed to say. Her mouth was dry, yet her pulse pounded and her belly was filled with the flutter of wings.

Zenovia smiled at this—a smile that was hot and triumphant and possessive. Then she pulled Jane close and began to kiss her thoroughly, easing her into the steaming pool as she did so.

The sensation of warm, scented water lapping gently against her sensitive skin and the damp mist, combined with the hot, slick kiss and Zenovia’s bold hands as they covered Jane’s arse, washed away the last bit of her reticence. The next thing she knew, Jane was kissing her back, their tongues thrusting strong and deep, teeth nipping gently and yet fiercely on lips, jaw, the soft part of her ear. Breasts crushed together, bodies hot and damp, hair tangled, the alluring smell of flowers and cinnamon and Zenovia…

Still holding Jane close, Zenovia sank lower into the pool until their long hair floated around them like fiery red and corn-silk seaweed. Their bodies slipped and slid against the other, one all soft curves and the other an erotic mix of firm muscle, generous hips, and sleek, heavy globes.

Jane realized she’d slid her legs around Zenovia’s waist, supported by the water as well as her lover’s hands. Her quim was hot and full against the taut belly beneath her, and Jane found herself unable to keep from pressing against her, jolting and nudging against the smooth skin.

“So eager.” Zenovia laughed when she realized what Jane was doing. She released her into the pool, and Jane discovered it was deeper than she’d realized, for her feet didn’t touch the ground and she was forced to tread water to keep from slipping under.

Holding her eyes, Zenovia sank beneath the water, and the next thing Jane knew, she was being dragged down too. She had barely enough time to snatch in a breath before the water closed around her…and so did Zenovia.

Jane arched and nearly gasped in a mouthful of water when the other woman’s hot mouth covered one of her nipples. Hands, strong and sure, slid down along her torso, holding her at the hips as Zenovia kissed her, teasing the taut flesh with her tongue as their waterlogged bodies tangled like two mermaids.

Jane struggled to hold her breath as Zenovia kept her below the water, feasting on her as though she were a mermaid and could breathe beneath the surface. She battled between the necessity of holding her breath while desperately
needing
to gasp and moan and somehow relieve the delicious lust building inside her, and Jane’s world became nothing but the pleasure of strong, delicious tugging at her nipple…incessant and demanding.

Lights flashed behind her closed eyes, and she knew she would have to breathe soon…but the pleasure was so beautiful, so hot and strong, and her netherlips throbbed and swelled, left unattended and ignored.

At last, just when she knew she could hold her breath no longer, Zenovia gathered her up and they shot up out of the water. Gasping and panting, Jane clung to the other woman, slipping along her curves and muscles, the world spinning and her body cool from the change of temperature.

Before she fully came to herself, Jane felt herself lifted completely out of the water. Zenovia set her on the edge of the pool in front of her. As Jane collapsed back onto the cold tile, still panting, aroused, and lightheaded, Zenovia spread her legs, holding them wide apart by the knees.

Jane felt as if she had burst free from some sort of chastity belt, for now, exposed and open, her quim seemed to expand and swell more fully. Her little pearl throbbed and ached for attention, and Jane felt the chill of the air against her hot, wet self.

Zenovia made a desperate, erotic sound that shot a stab of lust through Jane, and her fingers tightened on Jane’s thighs as she began to kiss all along the inside of one of them.

“So thick and red and wet,” she muttered as Jane shivered at the gentle, ticklish feel of her mouth on shivering skin. “Full and ready. I cannot wait to taste you, Jane, my darling.”

“Please,” Jane whispered, feeling herself grow even larger and more aroused as Zenovia made her way up and along her thigh. She arched and shifted, lifting her hips in anticipation, and then sighed with frustration as those full, sensual lips ignored her most needy parts and went on to the other thigh.

The tile was hard and cold against the back of her head, but the air was warm from the steamy pool. She tried to sit up, but Zenovia pushed her back with a strong hand over her belly, and then used those fingers to pull the skin from her mons taut, lifting it up and away from her swollen lips.

Jane felt herself lift and open even more, exposed, stretched, tight and hot and ready. Zenovia groaned something she didn’t understand, and then her mouth was there: on Jane, sucking and kissing and licking.

Bold and strong, Zenovia’s tongue slid around like a cock-tease, in and out of the wet, swollen folds of Jane’s pussy. Fingers spread her wider, tighter, and more open, and then Zenovia’s mouth was pressed against her: hot and sweet, sucking and tonguing, slurping and licking. She nibbled and nuzzled, blew softly over the raw, aching folds, and then licked again, slowly…long and slowly, like a cat stroking its fur.

Jane was breathless, her head rolling from side to side as she rode the hot wave of lust as it ebbed and flowed. Her feet still dangled in the pool, her legs spread wide, and her body was a hot, tight coil ready to explode…ready, but unable to get there.

When Zenovia’s smooth tongue slid slowly over her aching pip, petting it, stroking it, lifting and jiggling it, Jane could no longer keep from crying out. She dug her fingers into the tile and tried to keep from begging even as she writhed and shivered, trying to push herself closer, trying to shove herself deeper into the unyielding rhythmic mouth and tongue.

Yet Zenovia would not allow her to climb the peak. She seemed to know when Jane was about to reach the point of no return, and she eased off, gentled her onslaught…and became slower, more tender, more teasing. But she continued to taste and kiss Jane’s swollen pussy, now lapping and sucking audibly at the hot juices mingling with saliva and scented water.