Bonded (11 page)

Ethlinda kept an eye on her quarry. Made one final alteration to her magicked disguise, adding a layer of the sort of flagrant sexuality the younger men would find particularly appealing.

She was pleasantly surprised when she got a closer view. Fair-haired men normally did not appeal to her, but these two were quite attractive. Not tall, but not too short either, with lean, compact muscles.

The taller of the two elbowed his companion. Whispered and gestured in her direction. She definitely had their attention.

Excellent.

The deep drumbeats vibrated under her skin, setting the rhythm of her heartbeat. Primal tones. Ethlinda began to undulate in time with the music, never taking her gaze from her prey. She raised her arms over her head so her breasts lifted high against her tunic, her hard nipples poking against the sheer fabric. Rocked her hips, showing the men just how she would move with a cock inside her.

It was easy. Almost too easy.

They moved forward in unison, drawing as close to the circle of dancing women as was allowed. She favored them with her best smile, making a special point to look at each in turn, to ensure they knew she wanted both of them.

Ethlinda whirled.

Her skirt rose high, flaring out to expose her legs. She’d been especially careful to use magic there, knowing it was needed. They had never been one of her best features. But now, they were perfect for show. Longer than she was used to. Fortunately, she also knew just the right spells to keep her from being clumsy.

The drums grew louder, driving the women into more and more frenzied motions. Tunics were discarded, almost in unison, though unrehearsed. Ethlinda added a series of small jumps into her rotations, setting her breasts bouncing in a way sure to captivate the young men.

It was time.

Other women moved to their chosen partners, though none appeared to have set their sights on hers. For the moment.

Jaren’s first mate had already disappeared into the darkness; the low, distinctive rumble of his voice punctuated by a high-pitched, feminine squeal. Perfect. He was well occupied, out of the way and unable to interfere.

She sashayed toward the two young crew members, flaring her hips with exaggerated care. Reached the taller one first.

He opened his mouth as if to greet her normally. How sweet. She curled her arms around his neck and pulled his head down to hers. Pressed every inch of her curves into his hard young body. There was a very nice cock under his trousers, a trifle thin but impressively long. She kissed him, sweeping her tongue into his mouth almost before he knew what she was doing. He let out a groan and wound his lean arms around her.

Ethlinda broke the kiss and smiled up into his hot eyes. “Hello.”

She moved to the other young man.

He was more prepared than his friend. Since he was the same height as she, their lips met easily when he drew her into his arms. He was stockier than his companion, with a deeper chest and thicker arms. Bolder too. Running his hands up and down her upper body as they kissed. Ethlinda shivered.

Again, she was the one to pull away. That was important. She intended to control every aspect of this encounter. A small wave drew them to follow her.

No need for magic. Pure lust was enough.

“By the way,” the shorter one said, his voice husky with need. “I’m Benj, and he’s Aric.”

If there had been any question of their off-worlder status, the introduction would have removed all doubt. An unspoken rule of the festival declared all sexual encounters were to be anonymous. Lorians tended to adhere to that rule almost religiously, with few exceptions.

Even if she’d thought to craft an alias to go with her disguise, she would not wish to be one of those exceptions.

Sex was better when it was anonymous.

Less risk of any of the weaker emotions slipping in and clouding the issue.

Just sex.

* * * *

It was nearly dawn before either of the men showed any signs of tiring. The natural lustiness of their youth combined with the stamina-enhancers imbibed at the festival meant little rest for Ethlinda between bouts.

She was exhausted but could not allow herself the luxury of falling asleep before they did. They could easily wake and slip back to their ship without her. Something she had no intention of allowing.

Benj sat behind her, his back braced against the headboard. Though he still caressed her breasts, his cock was only half-hard, giving brief jerks against her spine as it tried to rise once more. He had been the more impatient of the two, so it seemed appropriate that he would be the first to burn out.

Aric knelt between her legs, his head buried between her thighs. He held the lips of her pussy apart with his fingers as he lapped and tasted. Ethlinda squirmed. Thrust her fingers through his short hair.

He was good. Better than she expected. Only eighteen years old, he could hardly have a great deal of experience, but he’d proved to be a fast learner. He now knew exactly how to stroke, how to touch her the way she liked. Alternating between long, leisurely laps and quick, darting taps of the tip of his tongue.

She moaned.

For a moment, she regretted what she needed to do next. It would be so easy to give in to Aric’s gentle ministrations, to let him bring her to another orgasm. If they’d met under any other circumstances…

She almost laughed. No, the young man could never be more than what he was. A temporary lover. As a poor man, a machinist’s assistant on a ship, he hardly suited her financial needs. She refused to sacrifice the future she deserved, even for one who brought so much pleasure to her body.

Sex was a weapon. A tool for advancement. Not an indulgence.

Ethlinda tightened her fingers in the silky strands, tugging him up so she could reach between them. Found his cock still stiff and hard, as if he had not already spent his seed several times. Aric was one of those men whose lust burned slow and steady rather than hot and fast, like his friend.

A man truly meant to be savored.

A pity she couldn’t do so now.

She lifted her legs over his hips, shaking with a combination of pleasure and exhaustion. His strong young hands were rough from his work, and he chafed her skin as he held her hips and slid into her, taking advantage of his generous length to draw out the motion.

Ethlinda arched her spine and rested her head against Benj’s shoulder. His cock gave another sharp jerk, rising against her back. Flattering, but not what she wanted now. She turned her head, her lips brushing the edge of his ear. Whispered a quick but effective sleeping spell. Kept her voice low so Aric could not hear her words. Yet.

He would have his turn soon enough.

As Benj began to snore, she drew Aric close. Crooned softly in his ear, repeating the spell between her moans. His motions slowed; his cock grew limp. Surprise flashed in his expression just before he collapsed.

The choice of the sleeping spell, rather than killing one or both of them, was her small way of rewarding the young men for the night of pleasure. Too bad she wouldn’t have time for more. Countless and near-constant orgasms had been a suitable reward for all she suffered since her arrest. Perhaps she could find them again later, once her revenge was complete.

Several noblemen on Lorus kept multiple young lovers—not always slaves—in a personal harem, though it was not something they flaunted in society. The practice was a strictly illegal but poorly kept secret.

No reason a woman couldn’t keep young men in a similar fashion. Once she figured out a way to reclaim her former fortune, she would have enough money to easily buy her way back into society. She could then create a full stable of young men to cater to her every whim, sexual and otherwise.

Yes.

That would be very nice.

Ethlinda pushed Aric to one side. Rose up to straddle Benj’s body. She cupped one hand under his chin and focused on every detail of his young face.

Magic flowed between them. It prickled under her skin with a painful heat. This was the one of the most dangerous spells known to Lorian culture. Dangerous to the caster as well as the subject.

Ethlinda’s vision blurred as the shape of her eyes changed. Nerves and tendons in her face stretched and altered. Her nose widened. Bone cracked to imitate a long-healed fracture, setting off a burst of pain.

The discomfort moved down her body. For a moment, her head felt too large and heavy before her slender neck morphed into the stocky thickness of Benj’s throat. Her shoulders widened and squared. Her large breasts flattened and spread to mimic the depth of muscle on his chest.

Ethlinda forced herself to keep holding on to Benj. To focus on the magic.

The most difficult changes were ahead. The change from woman to man.

It was what made this spell so effective, as well as dangerous. It didn’t just gloss an image over her body. It changed her. Completely.

Finally, it was over. Ethlinda dropped her hands from Benj’s face. Trudged to the bathroom for a quick mirror check, confirming she was now his clone. It was a perfect match. Every hair, every small imperfection of the skin, exactly where it was supposed to be.

She slumped to the floor, gasping for breath. These new lungs took far too much air to fill.

But there was no time for rest. Not now.

She bundled her clothing and hid it in the small closet. Next, she turned to Benj. One definite advantage to her new disguise: the heavy muscles gave her more strength than she normally possessed. She half lifted, half dragged him into the closet. Bound his hands together with the fabric of her discarded clothing, then tied them again to his ankles.

She conjured up another spell. A smaller one. No one would find Benj for several hours. Hopefully, she and the
Marama
would be well away from the Lorus system by then.

There would be more need for magic in that time.

For now, however, she needed rest.

She pushed Aric to the edge of the bed and resisted the urge to snuggle with him in her altered form. No need to traumatize him. Yet.

Chapter Nine

Sunlight pierced through the curtains of the only window in the room. Taimi rolled away from its brilliance and hid her face against the broad warmth of Jaren’s chest.

She inhaled the scents of man and sex, as well as something deeper, more intoxicating, and uniquely his. She burrowed closer, and he tightened his arms around her.

He was still asleep. The slow rise and fall of his chest and the leisurely, relaxed beat of his heart were unmistakable signs.

For this one moment, everything was perfect.

Taimi wished she could stop time. Though their departure on the
Marama
would mark the start of her life as a free woman, her excitement was tempered with a heavy dose of sorrow. Jaren had made it perfectly clear: this stay in the guest lodge was a time outside reality. He didn’t want a relationship, period, except for the platonic bond of captain and crew member.

But no need to dwell on that just yet.

Taimi opened her eyes and propped her head on her hand so she could get a good look at his sleeping form.

He was beautiful.

No better word described him. His golden skin seemed to gleam under the early morning sunlight that highlighted the dips and planes and curves of hard, powerful muscle.

Thick black lashes swept against the sculpted cheeks. His mouth was soft and relaxed, and heat flooded her veins as she remembered everything he could do with it. She shifted up the mattress, drawing closer to brush her lips against his.

He stirred but didn’t wake.

She cupped her hand against his cheek and let her fingers trail along his jaw. Sharp stubble pricked her skin. She followed her fingers with her lips, tracing and kissing every inch of his beloved face.

Taimi drew back. She never tired of looking at him.

Every feature was already committed to memory, having been the only images worth keeping during those long two years after the trial, when her life wavered in legal limbo.

Now, there would be more to her dreams.

The touch of his hands, the taste of his kiss. If only she could know what was inside his heart…

His lips curved into a faint smile. “You’re staring at me.”

“I thought you were asleep.”

He skimmed one hand along her spine, and she shivered. He drew her even closer, until his cock pressed against her belly. He was hard. “Just a little.” His eyelashes lifted, revealing his gorgeous hazel eyes, completely alert and dark with desire. “I was waiting to see what you were going to do.”

“Oh.” Heat rushed into her face and not just from embarrassment. “Was there something in particular you were hoping for?”

“Maybe.” He ran a finger along her lips. She touched her tongue to the tip, and he groaned.

Interesting.

Taimi parted her lips, and he dipped his finger into her mouth. She curled her tongue around the invading digit. Suckled. Jaren’s eyes widened, and he made a quiet but harsh sound deep in his throat.

She caught his wrist before he could pull away. He didn’t resist, though she was no match for his true strength. She moved her head, letting her lips glide over the length of the finger as if it were his cock. Tasted the faint saltiness of his skin.

The heavy pulse started up again, deep in her core, and a surge of wetness flooded between her legs. She moaned against his skin.

He rocked his lean hips against her in time with the thrust of his finger. She flattened one palm against his chest, felt the thundering of his heartbeat. Fisted one hand around his hard flesh. Slid her fingers up and down the length of his cock, tightening her grip until she felt every pulse vibrate through her hand and up her arm.

He pulled his hand away. His fingers snagged in the knots of her tangled hair as he kissed her. Hard. Devouring her mouth with his, thrusting his tongue between her lips with an aggression that took her breath away. She squirmed. “Take me,” she whispered. “Now.”

Jaren growled and pushed her onto her back, keeping his mouth locked on hers. She spread her legs, opening everything to him. The head of his cock parted her folds. He thrust deep.