Ruler's Concubine (20 page)

As a farewell, it should smack of tawdriness, but she had no will to dissect her reasoning, and nor did she want to concern herself with his. “I want you.”
I need you. I love you.

She was beneath him in the next breath, his broad shoulders blocking the view of anything but him. Golden skin stretched over planes of muscle and long bones and she feasted on the visual. He crouched over her, and reverently cupped her breasts. His thumbs feathered over the bunched tips and sent shivers of anticipation throughout her being. Her center liquefied, her folds dampening in preparation as his mouth enveloped a nipple, suckling and lashing it with his tongue.

Tiny cries slipped past her lips and she worked her fingers through his hair to press him closer, ignoring any expectation she remain passive. “Please.”

Moving to her neglected breast, he laved it while cupping the one he abandoned, the moisture he’d left behind cooling as it dried. Inundated with sensation, she writhed and tugged at his hair, then lifted against his wide erection.

“You’re ready for me? So soon?”

She’d always be ready for him, and the shame of it washed away before the flood of her arousal. “Please.”

“Soon, my concubine.”

Trailing kisses over her belly, he worked his way over her mound. Losing her grip on his hair, her fingertips pattered against the sheet, seeking something to anchor herself. When he reached his goal and settled between her legs to tantalize and torture her with long, languid licks of her folds, she whimpered and pleaded until he focused attention on the nub of her sex.

Her release built slowly but inexorably, ripples of sensation that spread to encompass her entire body, and she let it take her, shuddering through the powerful climax. Lysett petted her gently as she settled and collapsed in a boneless splay of limbs.

“I treasure your surrender to me, Celeste.” He covered her body with his, and she soaked in his heat, content to simply feel because she had the rest of her life for recriminations.

The now familiar weight of him settled between her thighs and effectively immobilized her, not that she would deny him. Not now. His hard length slid between her folds and notched at her opening.

“Look at me, Celeste.”

She met his stare as he advanced between her orgasm-swollen tissues. The intimacy was excruciatingly painful and she closed her eyes in self-defence. Fully sheathed in her body, he lowered until she could feel his breath by her temple as he murmured words the translator didn’t interpret. She bit her lip and swallowed the things she longed to tell him, holding him tightly to her instead. Her fingers splayed over his smooth back and coasted over the divots of his spine.

His measured thrusts drove her toward another climax, a mellow, contented sensation as she rocked to meet him.
I love you.
His groan melded with her silent admission, and in that moment she pretended it was Lysett who’d professed his love as he flooded her with his seed. If this was goodbye, at least she’d joined with him acknowledging the love in her heart.

He stilled and kissed her shoulder, and then her jaw, his dark, silky hair stroking her face. A solitary tear squeezed from one eye, despite her best efforts to contain it, and meandered down to meet his lips. She felt him tense.

His quiet words were delivered without any appreciable emotion as he withdrew and put some space between them. She was instantly chilled and oh, so empty. “Forgive me. Males express themselves physically. Or attempt to. I—”

She looked everywhere but at him, and hitched onto her side to maintain her precious memory. Already it was fleeting. He cut his words off and drifted a covering over her. She snuggled into it for comfort.

“I will make the appropriate arrangements for the morning, Celeste.”

The lights dimmed further and she stared blindly into the darkness, feeling him settle behind her but at such a distance. She wondered what a single female Earther could do on Meridia as she’d never be a concubine again. Or if she would have to return to Earth. Best she focus on her fate instead of the status of her broken heart.

****

He waited for sleep to claim him, incredibly aware of the proximity of his concubine. He longed to draw her close and hold her while she slept. Except she wasn’t his, not anymore, and what kind of male was he that he’d used his influence to join with her this one last time? Had he truly believed he could heal her emotional wounds with physical pleasure and in doing so tell her how he felt? He hadn’t the courage to tell her what he’d only just allowed himself to accept, until right the point of his extremis.
I love you.
And she hadn’t responded…

That one shimmering tear reinforced his decision. He had to do what was right for her, and
he
clearly wasn’t. Celeste deserved someone who could make her happy.

Realizing that sleep would continue to elude him, he eased out of bed and padded to his dresser, using the ambient light from his tablet to guide him. Bast would be awake. His first servant prided himself on requiring little sleep, and would be toiling on a public information release prior to the presentation. He hesitated. There need be no presentation. He was in no state of mind to choose another concubine, even supposing there might be another suitable for his House.

Duty be damned. He wanted Celeste. But this wasn’t about what he wanted. If she was breeding, he might have been able to look past his noble intention to free her, because motherhood might make her happy. And at least he could see her every day. But there had been be no progeny from their joining, and this détente couldn’t continue.

Snatching up his tablet, he sent a message to Bast and tossed the device back down as if it burned his fingers. He drew on the first pieces of clothing his hands fumbled upon and lowered himself to the chair where Celeste had perched before he’d seduced her. Leaning back, he resigned himself to many long hours before the new day. He took comfort in knowing his concubine was at least safe, and in the days that followed, she might find her happiness.

Chapter Fourteen

She drifted around the nice, little personal space Bast had arranged for her. If she focused on the minutiae of the present, she could pretend she hadn’t been escorted with grave courtesy to her former quarters in the Ruler’s home by the man himself and left there to assemble her belongings. She couldn’t even really recall the pretty speech he’d made.

“Bast will see to your resettlement and ensure you have everything you require, Celeste. I want you to know that I regret causing you a hint of discomfort, let alone the way I treated you, out of misplaced entitlement. My actions reflect poorly on my House and I wish I had handled things differently. You have my deepest apologies.”

He had looked totally sincere, too, and worryingly tired, his handsome features drawn and strained. Even his eyes had lost their luster. But she wasn’t a
thing
to be handled differently, and no longer cared much about any
thing
. She had nodded to convey her acceptance and understanding, and he’d made an awkward movement, as though to reach for her, before turning on his heel and stalking in true Ruler fashion out the door. And out of her life.

But she didn’t actually remember any of that because only fools tortured themselves.

A throat clearing caused her to turn to face the young male Meridian peering into her room. “Lady Celeste?”

“Yes?”

“Lady Shirley and Lady Belinda are here.”

It had been weeks. Bast insisted that none of the concubines were allowed to be out and about because of a surprising piece of news. Well, surprising to her and the majority, she supposed. A few hundred Earth males had landed on Meridia, traveling on smaller vessels, like the one she’d first boarded—had been carried aboard. The Ruler had also taken into consideration Meridia’s single females and invited human males to relocate with a view to finding a mate. The fact he had adapted his approach likely proved he was indeed ruling material, and she recalled his contention to reach out to Earth to invite additional females here. Not that she’d be required to play a role in that any longer—a very good thing.

In any event, caution was the watchword. The integration of the human males was similar to that of the females, but for fear it would stir up dormant purists, all concubines were placed under house protection in the interim. It made good sense, although she’d missed her friends. But now that they were here, she knew they’d threaten her brittle composure. She pasted on a wide smile and moved to the door. “Lead on, Jaycob.”

There were several guards situated in the building where she and a few other unplaced concubines resided. She’d heard the warriors’ number had increased two-fold and supposed that was because of her and her previous royal connections. Safeguarding was only reasonable, at least until it was certain the resistance had been rooted out. She marked their commanding figures and looked in their faces as she passed by, wondering if there was another Morat within their ranks.

In truth, she wasn’t really concerned, but as she obviously had no skill in detecting the true person behind the façade, had fallen into the habit of putting names to faces. Almost all of them gave her a friendly, if reserved, nod. But then, so had Morat.

“Celeste!” Shirley rushed forward, Belinda close behind. Her fellow humans looked … radiant. Actually glowing. She absorbed it as if from a great distance, not wishing to get burned.

“It’s good to see you.”

“Bullshit.” Belinda hadn’t developed any nicety of mannerisms, and Celeste liked that. Some things stayed the same.

“I
am
glad to see you. The other concubines stay away from me like I’m carrying a plague.”

“Probably just intimidated.”

Or worried I’ll taint their hopes for a good match.
“Maybe.”

Shirley wrapped an arm around her waist. “What happened? Why did you refuse the Ruler?”

That was the story floating around. She supposed she should be grateful that she had been painted as the spurner instead of the spurnee, but, with the exception of the guards who affected those stoic masks, people tended to look at her as if she was deranged. How could she have thrown such a chance away? She shrugged. She didn’t care if they knew the truth that she didn’t measure up, but it was evidently important to the Ruler and he knew his politics.

“I wasn’t happy.” That was the truth, too.

“We’re not happy all the time,” Shirley protested.

“Bullshit.” It was worth the profanity to see her friends’ faces blank in shock. “You both look … like you’re well loved.”

Shirley nodded and Belinda actually blushed.

“But you knew that early on, Celeste,” Shirley said. “I told you on our last visit—the one where you promised you were going to call me.”

She’d been a little busy, fielding the mixed messages from the Ruler—no more
Lysett
—and getting kidnapped and all. “Well, we’re together now, and you can come see me as often as you like.”

“And you can come to visit me.”

“And me.”

And see them together with their males? Probably not. At least not for a while. Like a few years. Decades. She didn’t need any additional reminders of what she’d never had, or would be likely to have. Apparently there was a certain cachet to obtaining her favor, a male being able to replace the Ruler as it were, but she had absolutely no interest in fueling that thought. She nodded and led them to her room.

“It’s perfect for you.” Shirley gawked much as she had in the Ruler’s abode.

“I like it. Bast arranged it. And of course, I have the rest of the complex for anything else I need. Clothing. Meals.” Though she didn’t go to the dining room anymore. Sitting alone with a crowd of women a few tables over, talking about her, got old fast.

Belinda plopped down on a comfortable chair. “Ash got me a beautiful dress for the presentation. And now there won’t be one.” She mock-scowled at Celeste.

“Then you’ll have to tease him into taking you somewhere else to wear it.” She wondered how she’d tossed the words out, because she had assumed the Ruler would work fast and choose one of the women not yet mated, and it haunted her. That’s why she went to the dining room at first, to count noses, but the numbers hadn’t diminished. But that didn’t mean there weren’t others in different places for him to check out. “I imagine there will be one in the future.”

“You’re really okay with it.” Shirley peered at her as if trying to see into her soul.

“I refused, remember?”

“Okay, honey, but if you need to talk…”

“Sure. Now, tell me what’s new.” If she talked about it, she’d have to figure out a way to cope all over again.

“I’m pregnant. No longer a suspicion!”

“Me, too.”

In a kinder world, she might have said
me three
, and a pang of anguish lanced through her fabricated serenity. “I’m so happy for you.” And she was. She
could
be happy for this.

“I hear many of the matches have resulted in conception. Ash is hovering like he’s accomplished the most remarkable thing ever. And I suppose he has.” Belinda pressed her hand against her belly. “I was as surprised as anything, seeing as I figured it was just lust.”

“Excuse me?”

The other woman chuckled and Shirley wiggled her eyebrows in a comical fashion as Belinda continued, “I liked the guy, even after I found out he was chosen by the Ruler to be the Liaison with Earth. In charge of our … removal from home. He’s really good-looking and has that arrogant thing working for him so I was fine with giving it a go. I mean, I was here and figured there was nothing back home. And the sex is great, but turns out there’s a lot more. We’re making history.”

Shirley chimed in, “The healers are checking historical data, and natural conception is believed to occur only if a bond develops.”

“You can use the real ‘L’ word,” Belinda teased. “I’m not that cynical anymore.”

“So … desire … lust … isn’t enough to procreate.” Celeste tried to make sense of it. The anguish returned, full force, and she couldn’t even say
make a baby
.

“Nope. And all the monkeying around the scientists did to orchestrate pregnancies wasn’t successful because the aphrodisiac created fake desire … and apparently there’s no substitute for love. Those offspring couldn’t be viable, and the mothers paid a terrible price, but it seems they’re only now figuring it out.”

Had the Ruler known that interesting tidbit when he returned her like … damaged goods? “How did you find all of this out?”

Shirley dug her tablet out of a bag that hung loosely from her wrist. “It’s all in here. Just released.” She scrolled through a feed. “It puts a different face on bringing all of us here to Meridia, I think. You know. Developing a bond, falling in love. It takes it out of the
propagating the species
realm of thought. Makes it harder for the naysayers to make a case against us.”

“It’s nice not to be prostituting myself,” Belinda agreed cheerfully. “I’m head over heels, and so is Ash.”

Celeste thought her face might crack beneath the interested look and smile she grimly kept painted on for the duration of the visit. The conversation turned to babies and names and finally discussion about more mundane matters. She contributed through numb lips when she detected the need to respond. The Ruler had dodged a bullet although he hadn’t minded the practice sessions. Neither had she, and what did that make her? She didn’t need the Rooster her to call her names.

Her friends departed with promises to return soon and repeated invitations to their homes. She parried the latter and tried to be positive about the former, and nearly collapsed with relief once they left and she could close herself in her room.

Bodily needs drove her from her bed, from where she sought fitful slumber and thought about exactly nothing, catching her thoughts when they veered in unacceptable directions. Once she was up, her body aching from inactivity, she decided to request a tray. She didn’t have the inclination to even visit an empty dining room, though avoiding the other unmatched concubines would be easier as it wasn’t a normal meal time. She supposed they’d heard of the new study, and wondered what they would make of it. Did some of them have romantic dreams?

The same young male presented the food with his usual deference.

“Thank you, Jaycob.”

“Bast has requested that you receive him.”

She’d ignored the repeated pinging of her tablet while she moped. “When did he make the request?”

“Nearly two days ago. I … I advised him you weren’t feeling well and wished to be undisturbed. I’m not sure that was the right thing to do.”

“It was absolutely the right thing,” she assured him and then intuited his muted concern. “The Ruler’s first servant finds it difficult to be denied, but he agreed to your role here and must observe it.”

“I am honored to be your gatekeeper, Lady Celeste. Are you feeling better?”

“Yes.” She wasn’t, not really. The long rest hadn’t helped her recover her equilibrium, and the idea of food now repelled her.

“Shall I contact Bast?”

“I’ll do it,” she promised, and he looked vastly relieved as he exited.

In the end, all she could manage was the tea. Everything else on the tray exuded strange smells, and she found herself longing for a plate of roasted turnip. With a garnish of green pepper. Both of which she’d grown in her garden plot on Earth.
Must be homesickness.

Shoving the food aside, she contacted Bast, who was reproachful in that subtle manner he wielded so effectively. Feeling guilty, she agreed to see him at the evening meal and counted herself lucky that she hadn’t lost him, too. Not that she’d ever had his master.

She picked through her clothing, having left the bulk of the Ruler’s largesse in her rooms there. She didn’t want to wear anything from that time. There weren’t a lot of choices, but she chose a dark-blue gown, thinking it would complement her the best until she caught sight of her wan face and the dark circles under her eyes. Maybe she
was
ill, the fatigue and uneasy belly symptoms of something more ominous than a broken heart. She laughed out loud at her ridiculous musing, but it came out as broken pieces of sound.

If she didn’t feel better tomorrow, she’d ask Jaycob to request that a healer attend her. Her hand froze in midair, the hairbrush slipping from her numb fingers when an incredulous thought surfaced. Fumbling for her tablet, she called up a calendar and tapped through the days. She did it once. Twice. And again. She should have cycled shortly after that horrible day with crazy Quentan. The healer told her she wasn’t pregnant—not breeding, then.

But she’d greedily coupled with Lysett shortly thereafter… Some times were more fertile than others, but… She carefully set the tablet down, lest it suffer the same fate as her brush, and requested the information Shirley had shared about the new discovery regarding procreation. Reading it carefully from beginning to end, she took a sobbing breath. There had to be a bond. Both parties had to love the other. Both. So she wasn’t pregnant. Whatever was wrong with her, she hoped it wasn’t a strange alien disease that had escaped the inoculations all the prospective concubines received on the ship prior to landing.