Roped Heat Page 2

  They're still powerful. At least he is. "He wore nothing but a cock-cloth. His muscles ... he has the muscles of a man who takes pride in them. "

  "Strong.."

  "Yes. He sat easily on his thing. I thought—I hoped—it would fall over because it had only one wheel in front and another at the rear, but every time he changed direction, he placed his foot on the ground and leaned into the change. I ... I admire his skill."

  "You admire a Centrois?" someone challenged. "How can you say that?"

  Trying to calm herself, she looked at those who made up her world. Except for the oldest, everyone had flame-red kiir, proof that the Divine Eternal considered them one with the suns. Was the Divine Eternal responsible for silver hair as well?

  "What would you rather have me do? Be so terrified that I couldn't judge our enemy's strength? He knows how to fight. He's confident and takes pride in his body."

  "Then the Centrois haven't changed," another elder announced. "Nari, at first light you must lead our scouts back to where you saw them. We must learn whether they're following you."

  "First light?" a young woman with a baby at her breast demanded. "We have to run now! Hide."

  "No." Nari's father stepped to her side. "When we escaped, we ran. But we are no longer frightened animals. Now we will fight for our freedom."

  As people began debating what they should do. Nari wrapped her arm around her father's waist. Her fingers settled over the long, deep scar at his side.

  "All these years," she whispered to him. "And now the past has returned."

  "But we're no longer the mindless creatures we were when the Centrois enslaved us," he whispered back. "The Divine Eternal has blessed us with Hevassan, and we have learned the meaning of pride. We're no longer dependent on our f for food and shelter."

  "I want us to run. Not for me but for you and Mother and everyone I love—for the babies and small children."

  Her father held her against him with such strength that he seemed young again. "Nari. as long as there's life in me, I'll fight to keep you and the others safe."

  "No. Not alone. You—"

  "Death is better than what I knew before the day I got this." He indicated the scar.

  "I'll fight beside you," she insisted. "Bury my knife in Centrois flesh or die in the attempt."

  *****

  He walked toward her. A faceless, voiceless man. Caught between terror and fascination, she gripped her knife and watched his approach. Fog drifted around him, and heat circled her breasts and belly with the truth. Close. Nearly touching.

  She didn't move when he reached out and rested his hand on her shoulder.

  Her naked shoulder.

  "Mine." Although a near whisper his voice earned power and belief. "You are mine."

  "Who ... who are you?"

  "Your master."

  No, she wanted to scream. No, I'm free. But his hand was so heavy, his gaze hot and hard, his body calling her to him.

  "You don’t belong here," she told him.

  "Perhaps, but I have arrived. Why didn't you run when the others did?"

  Confused, she looked around but saw only deserted houses. "I don't know."

  "Ha, I think you do. You waited for me, your destiny."

  She'd been gagged with several loops of rope that forced her mouth apart. Thinking to remove it, she tried to lift her arms, but her hands were caught behind her. Even more alarming, her elbows had been cinched together so they nearly touched.

  "There," the man said, and patted her cheek. "Now you understand. This is what you were born to be."

  "No!" she ached to scream. Instead, she chewed on the rope and tried to make sense of what else had just changed. No longer was she standing looking at this strange and possessive man. Instead, the ground pressed against her knees. The man stood oz*er her* his strong naked body proclaiming his superiority. Her ankles had been tied, and more restraints connecting her ankles to her wrists forced her to arch her body.

  "This is what you want," he told her. "In your heart of hearts, you need to be on your knees before me, wondering what I'm going to do to you, anticipating, your pussy hot and crying for me."

  No! No! But he was right. Her cunt felt heavy. It ached "How. .. how do you know?"

  The sound of her voice startled her. Taking in a shaky breath, she realized that the gag had been removed. But now she couldn’t see because something soft yet secure pressed against her eyes.

  "You don’t need to look at my face and body," he said. "All that matters is my cock."

  Hard male flesh stroked her cheek, and she leaned into it and smelled a man s scent. Hungry, she opened her mouth. His cock brushed her upper lip, then was gone.

  " Please," she whimpered. "Please."

  "Good. You 're ready to worship my cock—and me. To turn yourself over to me."

  "Nari, wake up!"

  Someone was snaking her, but despite the urgency in the voice, Nari fought to stay with her dream. She'd longed for an exciting, strong lover, but she'd never imagined anything like this. Much as it frightened her, it also fascinated.

  Finally she opened her eyes and looked up at her father, remembering that she'd accepted their invitation to spend the night with them. He earned a burning branch to light the area, his tangled hair telling her that he, too, had been sleeping.

  "You kept crying out," he said as he sat at the edge of the layers of hay and dried grass covered by a woven blanket that served as her bed. "Moaning and whimpering. Something frightened you?"

  The dream lingered even as she snuggled against her father, and when she looked at her wrists, she half expected to see rope marks on them. She hadn't been afraid, but how could she tell her father what she had been feeling when she couldn't admit it to herself?

  "It must be because of what happened today," she told him. "Father, did you ever expect to see Centrois again?"

  He sighed. "I told myself we were safe here, that our long journey had taken us far enough away, but the Centrois are like night beasts. They’re hunters. "

  *****

  Such a small creature.

  Stroking her cheek, her throat, and the space between her breast caused his blood-blessed cock to swell even more than it already had. Its weight dragged, causing him to cradle and support it. He wasn’t sure how long it would be before he’d force his way into her upturned mouth, but until he’d convinced himself his captive wouldn’t bite him, he had to maintain self-control. Somehow.

  “Ripe breasts,” he said and was surprised by how uncertain his voice sounded. “Right for nibbling.”

  If she replied, he didn’t hear. Releasing himself, he leaned out over its hard length so he could take hold of her nipples. She gasped and sucked in a breath but didn’t try to free herself.

  Good.

  “My breasts. My body.” He emphasized his words by sliding his foot between her knees and forcing them apart. She gad to struggle to obey his unspoken command because her ankles were tied together, and her bound wrists were snagged to her ankles.

  He didn’t remember tying her and had no knowledge of having blindfolded hers. She’d become an erotic work of art, a naked image of submission.

  Much as he wanted to see whether her pussy was wet and swollen, he continued to grip her nipples. He had no doubt he was causing her discomfort. Discomfort and arousal but not pain. Not yet.

  “What does it feel like, chattel? Knowing you’ve lost ownership of your body, what are you thinking?”

  “I… I…”

  Her voice was a song, a bird at dawn, wind rippling over dry grasses. Mesmerized by the sound, he pressed his palms against the reddened nubs.

  She sang to him.

  “Beautiful, beautiful.” He began making small circular motions. She rocked from side to side, dancing despite the tight restraints. He smelled her heat.

  “You’re a new flower. A doe eager to be mounted. How does it feel to be in heat, helpless and submissive? Eager?”

  “I… I…”


  “By all that’s sacred, enough!”

  Tarek surged into a sitting position. For a moment, he couldn’t find the line between dream and reality, but then thanks to the pale blue moon of summer, he realized his brother was standing over him. Saka nudged him again.

  “If you aren’t going to share the dream with me, end it.” Saka pointed at Tarek’s erection.

  If only he’d been able to run his cock into his captive’s mouth!

  “I can’t help it,’ he said. “We’ve been without women for too long.”

  “I don’t need those kind of memories.”

  Layers of meaning were behind his brother’s words, but Tarek couldn’t concentrate on them tonight, not with her scent still in his nostrils.

  Her when his thoughts should be on the nearly reached goal. Her when nothing should matter beyond making the Baasta taste Centrois revenge.

  Chapter Three

  After removing his weapons’ belt and his cock-cloth, Tarek stepped into the water. At the middle, the small lake was no more than waist-high, but by leaning over, he managed to clean off the many days of travel dirt. That done, he concentrated on rinsing his hair until dust no longer dulled its color. Not for the first time, he cursed the tradition that called for warriors to keep their hair shoulder length instead of cutting it short.

  He wouldn’t have disarmed himself if his brother hadn’t been standing guard.

  Looking around, he noted countless prints around the lake that obviously served as a popular watering place. Like so many things he’d seen since the summer began, this area was both new and familiar, proof that Punta provide both contrast and fundamental similarity. Before motos had been modified for extensive travel, the Centrois had only dreamed of exploring beyond familiar territory. Now, chosen because he’d proven himself as a warlord, he was leading a large group of warriors. To his surprise, once they’d gotten beyond the land the Centrois fought to control since their beginning, the warriors hadn’t once had to defend themselves. Yet, they’d encountered small, isolated breeds but those people had been peaceful.

  During the season they’d been on the move, he’d seen mountains and valleys, places where the rain fell almost constantly and earth so dry he wondered if it every felt moisture. Several of the valleys held promise should the Centrois ever decide to move, and he told himself to explore them in greater detail, but with each morning, he’d felt the need to keep traveling. His men hadn’t protested because, like him, they were drawn to the excitement and adventure and even the danger of the unknown. He sometimes wondered if he was the only one whose inner battles caused him to lose sleep. Maybe, because their fathers hadn’t died in their arms, the other believed with heart and soul that the Divine Eternal protected them.

  “What was your dream about?” Saka asked as Tarek stepped out of the water and reached for his cock-cloth.

  Not for the first time since rising, Tarek examined his night thoughts. Even though being a Centrois man meant treating his lust-chattel as simple fuck-objects, he hesitated.

  “What is t? You’ve grown suddenly shy and don’t want to talk about a wet dream? Did you masturbate?”

  “Not right away, but when I did when I couldn’t get back to sleep. I came so fast you would have thought I’d never had sex.”

  “Are you surprised?” Saka untied his own cock-cloth in preparation for entering the lake. “There’s been nothing to fuck since we left home.”

  And even longer for you, brother, you have slept alone since -- “It isn’t natural for a Centrois man to go so long without release.”

  Saka unabashedly wrapped his hand round his limp cock. “There’s more than one way to find release.”

  “But a cunt’s better.”

  “Even better is a woman you love.”

  Tarek reached to squeeze his brother’s shoulder, but Saka turned his back on him and stepped into the water. The lust-chattel Saka had loved had been dead for nearly a year, and yet he still mourned. Tarek wondered if his brother would go through life aching for what he could never have. Even if the female no one ever mentioned by name was still alive, she had Saka wouldn’t have been able to marry. Wouldn’t have able to create a home for the infant they’d produced.

  Caught in the memories of when he’d held the baby being raised by a nursing chattel, Tarek absently studied the surroundings. What had the female who’d outrun him yesterday been doing here?’ had she been alone or were other Baasta around? If alone, why? And if she was part of a group, where were they? He didn’t believe they were nearby since the scouts had seen no sign. Those who’d once belonged to the Centrois would never attack, but they had to have changed, maybe turned from hunted to hunters.

  There was only one way to find out.

  Following the female’s tracks yesterday had led them in the opposite direction from where they’d been heading before encountering her; not changing their concerned him. What mattered was not being ambushed.

  “I keep thinking about the animal she was riding,’ Saka said. “How did she control it?”

  “I don’t know. There were no ropes on it.” Yesterday he’d seen a female leap onto the back of a strange swift creature. How had it been taught to carry her? If there were creatures like that back home, maybe there wouldn’t have been a need for motos.

  “Maybe she cast a spell over it,” Saka ventured. “Mesmerized it.”

  ‘How? The Baasta are simple-minded. They wouldn’t do anything unless they were forced.”

  “I saw that’s because, like the rest of our chattel, they didn’t want to serve us. Can you blame them?”

  No. “Are you done? I want to get back.”

  Saka stepped out of the lake and shook himself, droplets flying in all directions. When they were children, Tarek had often been frustrated by his younger brother’s immaturity, but since becoming a father – and even before – Saka had started acting and speaking like an old man. Tarek had hoped that by including him in the exploration would give him something other than grief to think about; even though Saka seldom spoke about the past, it remained in his eyes.

  This morning, in addition to their knives, both men carried loaded sun-sticks. Securing his weapons around his waist, Tarek started toward his moto. Concentrating on his surroundings, he pondered whether this land had more to offer than where his people lived. Game was plentiful, and except for the Baasta woman, they hadn’t come across any other humans. The idea of no longer having to fight the various other breeds who considered Centrois their enemy appealed to him.

  Nodding in contemplation, he asked his surroundings to speak to him. For as far as he could see, the ground was strewn with rocks ranging in size from pebbles too small to be fired from sun-sticks to boulders large enough to take down a man, but –

  Suddenly, the hairs at the base of his skull lifted. Tense, he studied his surroundings, joining him, Saka did the same.

  “Anything?” he whispered.

  Saka shrugged, then withdrew his sun-stick from its holding pouch. Sun-sticks resembled short, thick chunks of wood. They’d been designed to capture and contain the sun’s strength, and when the trigger was activated, the stones stored inside it shot out the narrowest end. The rocks didn’t travel that far, but at a short distance they struck with deadly force.

  Tarek had just retrieved his own weapon when a raw howl shattered the air. He spotted a dark blur of movement coming at him. He managed to aim his sun-stick, but before he could fire, the blur struck him, knocking him backward. His head snapped back, striking something hard. His world turned red. His neck throbbed. A massive weight straddled him, imprisoning him against the earth.

  "Tarek!" his brother yelled.

  Even as he struggled to make sense of what had happened, whoever, or whatever, was on top of him shifted position, and he found himself looking up at a near-human face. Baasta? No, the Baasta didn't have small burning eyes or long, protruding teeth.

  Sharp pain tore his focus from the face. The creature had grabbed his should
er. Thick, curving claws dug into his skin, but what shocked him the most was that the claws grew out of human fingers. The creature had human arms, a narrow chest, and a neck too thick for the rest of him.

  Another wave of heat in his shoulder ended his attempt to make sense of what had knocked him down. Blood welled up around the claws—his blood!

  As he thrashed about trying to dislodge the claws, the beast leaned down, mouth open, fangs seeking his throat.

  "No!" Fear turned a bellow into a shriek. "No!"

  Wet heat dampened his face. The creature pressed down, making his arms and hands go numb. He fought to keep hold of his sun-stick. The face and fangs were now so dose that everything was blurring. If those fangs drew blood—

  Driven by desperation and determination, Tarek surged upright and then forward. Knocked off balance, the creature flopped backward. As it tried to right itself, the claws retracted.

  Tarek fired. The sound of rock striking flesh filled his ears. At first, the beast simply looked confused. Then disbelief replaced dumb questioning. Still straddling Tarek’s hips, it looked down at itself to where a stream of blood was erupting from its belly. The animal-like mouth opened wider, giving Tarek a look at a double row of teeth.

  Blood spurted onto Tarek's stomach, and he shoved, knocking the beast to the side and off him. Scrambling onto his hands and knees, he watched a» whatever had attacked him writhed about. Its arms flopped, claws digging thin furrows in the dirt. Long and hairy legs kicked randomly. Blood continued to flow.

  Saka!

  Gripping his spent sun-stick, Tarek stood. His brother was only a few feet away. He, too, had been knocked to the ground, but he was on his belly, hands over his head as he tried to protect himself. Another beast straddled his waist and was clawing Saka's back.

  Shoving the stick back into its bag, Tarek threw himself at Saka's attacker. Years as a warrior fueled his muscles as he wrapped his arms around the beast's neck and squeezed.

  A bellow that seemed to come from inside the earth erupted from the creature. It flung itself off Saka, landing on its side and rolling onto its back with Tarek under him. Despite the weight, Tarek tightened his grip.