“I won’t probe your thoughts while you are here. You have the sanctity of them for your protection. Neela, I will only sparingly ask for your thoughts, since I know you’ll be forced to answer me. I appreciate what you’ve done in compromising your natural restraint, but you intrigued me as you were. I don’t approve of the change.”
“I’d apologize,” she began. “But I’m finding this emotional latitude difficult. I don’t like it.”
“Eat, please. You aren’t prisoners here.” Thrax sat down with them. “I never expected them to deliver you,” he told her after a few moments of awkward silence.
“A bargain was struck. You offered the terms and they accepted,” Neela intoned.
Thrax studied her perfect posture and up-tied raven hair. She wore the ear cuffs of status with seven slim chains cascading from the clasp. Each colored bead at the end represented a particular honor. Seven points of recognition and he knew the red glass bead on the primary chain represented the diplomatic relationship between Elara and Prill that she had worked on for two years.
Neela Pharr’s dark gaze locked on him. Thrax let the silence stretch on as he took his seat. He’d discovered a long time ago that people hated empty air and tended to fill it. Usually they filled it with information they hadn’t intended to share. Neela wasn’t one of those people. It didn’t matter. He needed the spare minutes to gather his thoughts anyway.
Neela continued to wait, poised, calm, unruffled, her food untouched. He wished not for the first time that he could see the flash of anger in her eyes. Something to know that she had an opinion about her being offered up as payment by her superiors.
Thrax leaned forward. “Tell me, Emissary. How gracious is your government expecting me to be?”
He detected the twitch of a smile. “Your Highness, the Elaran Prime Minister wishes to express his great respect for you and his appreciation in allowing me to continue to mediate discussions.”
Thrax gently lifted the beads of her position, letting them slide from his fingers one at a time. “You’re quite decorated,” he mused almost to himself. “I wonder what color bead you’ll receive if you fix this political screw up?”
“Purple, my lord,” she answered frankly.
Her pupils had dilated. He couldn’t quell the pleasant thrill it gave him to know that he’d finally see her uninhibited after all these years of working with her. The arrangement was ideal even though he’d have preferred her to be uninhibited out of uncontrolled attraction to him. He’d only half thrown out his request to have her, thinking there’d be no agreement. That she’d accepted—he wondered if she realized how valuable that made her. He’d had no intention of giving over the mines to the Elarans. But perhaps there was a compromise to be made allowing him to maintain full control, while still honoring the agreement he never expected the Elarans to follow through on.
“Purple,” he repeated. “My people’s resources reduced to a colored bead.”
He left the table. Thrax heard his guests rise and follow him to the sitting area.
“I’m sorry, my lord, I didn’t mean to sound so callous. The drug I used…” She sounded nonplussed.
Thrax nodded.
“I’d have told you the truth. It just makes all information accessible when you ask,” she said.
“I know.” He took a seat. Thrax sat forward on his chair and watched the pilot whose gaze had locked on his charge. “I want you to live a little in my world. I want you to know, first hand, what it’s like to have absolutely no control over your fate. Do you feel it?”
“
I
feel it,” the pilot growled possessively coming toward them. The pilot crouched down beside her, slinging an arm around her shoulders. “These negotiations are over. I’m taking her home.”
“I don’t want to leave.” Neela shrugged off his arm.
“You can’t, regardless. Not if Elara wants access to our mines.” Thrax leaned back, pyramiding his fingers in front of him. “Until I decide otherwise, you are the guests of the Prillian nation.”
Neela covered the pilot’s hand with hers. “Stay.”
Jealously curdled in Thrax’s gut. Though his intention was to force Neela Pharr to see the mining demands from his point of view, he couldn’t deny that he’d hoped to find a level of affection from her. She was a remarkable woman. He’d always wondered what lurked behind the calm facade.
Apparently, it was an appreciation for the man who served with her.
King Thrax’s puffed up pride and flashing eyed anger melted every one of her neurons. Absently, she dropped her gaze to his bare chest. His bronzed flesh looked so pliable and warm.
There was a liberty in not holding back. While she didn’t like the vulnerability, she could appreciate the permission to follow her thoughts wherever they wanted to go. Right now, they wanted to admire the king’s exposed flesh. She didn’t think she should chase that particular flight.
She licked her lips, trying hard for her natural reserve and coming up dry. The same crazy thrill she’d felt with Tarrel managed to addle her brain beneath Thrax’s regard.
He lightly gripped her chin and held it. “You are remarkably beautiful, Neela.”
What did she respond with? Thank you? She was here for a seduction, wasn’t she? Didn’t flattery come as part of that package?
“I have maids waiting to bathe you in the adjoining bathing room. They’ll see to your needs and dress you,” Thrax told her. “Go.”
Tarrel grabbed her hand. She looked at him. This is why they were here. In being with the king, would she lose Tarrel? She hoped not.
Tarrel released his grip on her. Neela stood and left the two men on trembling legs. There was no steadying her nerves. The drug hadn’t left her with any reservoir of hidden strength. She’d weather this on her own while Tarrel watched.
“You go too. I’ll see to your change of clothing,” she heard Thrax tell Tarrel.
Neela stepped into an indoor grotto. The rough-hewn walls of the enormous cave reached upward and opened to the sky. Though it was raining, a force field had been erected and droplets splattered far above her head, the moisture never touching her. Against one wall, a gentle waterfall fed a pool of clear blue-green water. Four women draped in sheer white cloth stood thigh-deep in the water.
She heard a noise and spun, preparing for battle. It was a ridiculous reaction given that she was here to bathe, but automatic all the same.
Two women stood by the entrance. The first one moved toward her with a smile. “I’m Aleena. I’ll attend you.”
Neela nodded her consent. The woman helped her undress as Tarrel entered the room. The second woman saw to him. They exchanged looks.
“I thought I was the only one giving it up for the Elarans,” she teased.
“You were until King Thrax reached into my head and got an eyeful.”
Her gaze narrowed on him. “What, exactly, were you thinking at the time?”
Aleena supported her while Neela stepped out of her pants. She had nothing left but her undergarments now. The same lacy style she’d worn when she’d been intimate with Tarrel on the skiff, but in black. Like then, Tarrel’s distracted gaze took a dive.
“Ever been in a sandwich before?” he asked, laughing.
Oh, God. Why did that suggestion make her stomach drop and roll right into the path of that delicious tingle starting at her pussy? He had to have heard her gasp.
She looked away from him as Aleena pulled the black panties away from Neela’s belly and down her legs. The bra clasp came next. It was a shame King Thrax wouldn’t see her pretty garments. She’d bought them especially for this occasion.
“I hope Thrax intended to ask my opinion on the matter,” she said when she’d regained her voice.
Tarrel stepped up beside her, already naked. “Does it matter? You’re his for the duration,” he said tightly.
“His. Not yours.”
He dropped his hands on his lean hips. His jaw clenched.
“Are you saying you’re finished with me?”
Not even close, she realized. The nearer he stood, the faster her pulse raced. Human type sexual attraction made clear thought a challenge.
Tarrel tipped up her chin, a wicked smile on his lips. “I didn’t think so.”
Aleena led her to the edge of the water. It lapped at her toes as warm as a bath. She kept walking down the gradual incline. Two of the other women met her and took a hand each, leading her deeper still.
Aleena left her and Neela anxiously looked back. “Where are you going?”
“I’ll return with your garments in a few moments.”
Neela nodded, although the woman didn’t need her approval and was moving away to see to her task. She heard Tarrel join his two assistants, but kept her back to him. Somehow standing in the water naked, the hands of total strangers on her as they cleaned her, made her feel more vulnerable than confessing her desire for Tarrel in the shuttle.
She couldn’t say it was more revealing than the tears she’d shed after the most profound sexual experience of her life with him. This was different. Not awkward, but she felt atypically shy. Perhaps it was the sweet melody of splashing water from the falls, or the swish when they leaned her backward to rinse her hair and the way it felt weightless in the water. When the water broke over her breasts, she found herself arching her back so that they glistened in the natural light.
She knew she was being watched. She knew the women who cleaned her and the man she’d flown with were admiring her body as much as she wanted them to. So why did it make her feel flush with timidity and increase the rapid pounding of her heart.
The women floated her whole body, her feet coming off the bottom. Her pubis broke the surface, tickled by the edge of water that lined her body. Delicate hands supported her back and thighs. Gently her legs were opened.
Neela stiffened.
“Relax, Neela. You need to be readied.” Aleena’s muffled voice reached her through the thin barrier of water over her ears.
Warm skin brushed her cheek, and Neela turned her head to see. Tarrel’s heavy lidded gaze blinked back at her upside down where he floated beside her. Touching, but not linked, they were nonetheless connected.
Soapy hands rubbed her shoulders and arms as the four women continued to clean them. Utterly relaxed and completely aroused, her body continued to awaken under their dedicated pursuit. The hands moved over her, each woman beginning at one extreme and moving toward the middle. The woman at the top smoothed soapy hands over her breasts.
Neela bit her lip to keep from making noise.
They massaged her, avoiding her nipples until they were tight and desperate. The water drying on them only added to her growing impatience. Finally, slim fingers feathered over the aching tips, circled the areola and skimmed back over her nipples with an edge of nail.
Neela whimpered. A long, low groan left Tarrel at the same time as she could only imagine he was getting the same preparatory treatment.
Her thighs parted wider as the other woman moved between her legs. The fabric from the attendant’s garment tickled the sensitive flesh. The sensations on her nipples weren’t nearly intense enough to satisfy her, but the thumbs stroking the inner crease of both thighs kept her silent. She wanted to ask, say anything to encourage them. If she did, she feared they’d stop. Or she feared they wouldn’t.
Neela had barely come to terms with the intensity of sex in her current inhibited state. She hadn’t yet developed an opinion on it. Intensity had definitely developed. Lust. Heat. Hunger. All those things she associated with being the baser characteristics of humanity, that alien species that thought with their hearts before their minds.
She’d always pitied the race that seemed incapable of leaving emotion out of its decisions. Maybe she’d been too hasty. This tide of urges seemed addicting. How would she return to her former life, knowing what she knew now, and never experiencing it again? Did she even want to?
Her own weakness disgusted her. She was a pathetic vessel waiting to be filled with one new experience after another, all of them geared toward her pleasure. What did that make her?
Tarrel moaned again. He must’ve jerked because water rippled over her cheeks. Neela held her breath just as one of her attendants lifted her high enough to avoid getting her face wet.
Once she’d been resettled, those hands got back to work. Fingers rolled over her nipples in easy circles. Her apex tingled. The other attendant swept her fingers over Neela’s pussy lips. Neela felt distinctly on edge. A rogue finger dipped into the seam, catching and springing her clit. She cried out. Soft kisses dropped on her distended nub as thumbs held her open for the erotic attention. A tiny lick, another kiss, a soft sigh against her heated wet pussy and suddenly she was being helped to her feet.
Dazed and disappointed, she wobbled on her feet wondering what fresh kind of torture she was being forced to endure. Tarrel appeared baffled as she.
“Come with me,” Aleena spoke through the haze.
“I’d love to but I feel like the point of this is to give me one helluva case of blue balls,” Tarrel complained.
Aleena smiled. “But you are ready, are you not?”
For relief? Yes, she was. More than ready. Her body trembled with need. If someone would just fuck her ruthlessly, she’d be a very happy woman right now.