Underground Pleasure

An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication www.ellorascave.com Underground Pleasure ISBN 9781419918186 ALL RIGHTS RESERVE...

Author: Mercy Jana

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An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

www.ellorascave.com

Underground Pleasure ISBN 9781419918186 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Underground Pleasure Copyright © 2008 Jana Mercy Edited by Helen Woodall. Photography and cover art by Les Byerley. Electronic book Publication December 2008 The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502. Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

UNDERGROUND PLEASURE

Jana Mercy

Dedication To my fabulous editor, Helen Woodall.

Underground Pleasure

Chapter One

2069, Middle Earth Days worth living would soon be upon Romjin Padjir so he kept his gaze off Skye Faar. To be caught looking directly at the leader’s daughter without permission warranted death. A silly law, but one he must abide by, all the same. Even without his eyes he could see the fair-haired beauty in his mind. He’d made it his duty to know everything about the Cy-run princess. Not royalty in the sense of times gone past, but a favored heiress who was destined to lead the underground city. For a woman long past her prime, the High Priestess presented him with great show. “He has been trained to place your desires above all else. If he pleases, I bestow him upon you for however long you deem his services useful.” Romjin didn’t need to raise his bowed head to know Skye Faar watched him with curious eyes. Did she sense his rebellious nature? That he’d come to her with duplicitous motives? No, she’d been taught from birth to take what she wanted, to expect all to bow to her every whim. Why would she expect any different from her new protector and pleasure slave? Romjin kept his head bowed low as the princess circled. All rested upon her acceptance of him. If she refused, he’d be sentenced to the mines where he’d no doubt escape, but the future hinged on his being inside Cy-run’s walls. “I accept your gift.” As if it were her right to accept the life of another for her own needs. Bitch. Romjin’s fingers curled into a tight fist, which he immediately relaxed. Months of training couldn’t erase a lifetime of anger, but more was at stake than one warrior’s pride and he’d best not forget it.

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Skye placed her finger below his chin and lifted his face for examination. Her soft touch surprisingly burned into his flesh with the intensity of hot coal. The scent of a florid perfume filled his nostrils and made him think of his grandfather’s tales of vast fields full of flowers above surface before the war. Feminine musk mixed with the scent, giving it a unique flavor unlike any he’d encountered. Admittedly, most of the women he came across wore the scent of hard labor and lack of clean water. An all-too-male response stirred. Romjin kept his eyes lowered and his lust checked. An attraction to Skye would complicate the hell out of matters. From the beginning he’d known he might be forced to kill her before all was said and done. Despite that knowledge, he’d volunteered for the assignment. Having emotions of any kind for her simply wouldn’t do. Too much rode on the outcome of his duties. Nothing, and no one, would stand in the way of freeing Cy-run.

Skye Faar trembled at the restrained power coursing through the man kneeling before her. A man she’d just accepted as a gift from the high priestess. What had Rajah been thinking? Much better had her priestess given a less virile pleasure slave, one who didn’t make Skye’s inner thighs quake at the thought of his powerful intrusion. She didn’t see this particular slave being okay with answering to a woman’s whims, to anyone’s whims, but as a slave he must have done so his entire life. Then again, she had asked Rajah for a slave capable of protection and great loyalty. He must have an excellent record to have Rajah’s recommendation. Slaves rarely achieved rank of protector and pleasure slave, but he certainly looked fit, if perhaps a bit untamed. Untamed didn’t bother Skye and what she sensed within him would work to her advantage should things go wrong. Regardless, she planned to take her pleasure where she could find it before her enforced marriage to Geoffery.

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She’d never seen eye-to-eye with the handsome businessman her father chose for her to marry, nor did she trust that he had Cy-run’s best interest at heart. Geoffery tended to be more concerned about Geoffery’s best interests. No doubt that selfcenteredness would carry over to their marriage bed. Would Geoffery truly be content to let her rule Cy-run without his interference? “You may look at me,” she told her protector, wondering if someday she’d have to ask him to lay his life on the line to protect her from her future husband. Would he be willing to go against the most powerful man in Cy-run? The dark, bowed head lifted and deep blue eyes focused on her, taking in the white gossamer material draped over her virginal body. What did he think of his duties? To teach his future leader the ways of womanhood and protect her life at all costs? What would he say to the knowledge that she’d reached the age of twenty-five without giving herself to any of her pleasure slaves? “Stand,” she ordered, feeling quite silly telling this thick-chested man to do anything, but she didn’t want him at her feet. He towered above her, reminding her yet again that she’d asked the priestess to choose her protector wisely as Skye’s wedding night loomed ahead. She didn’t intend to give Geoffery ammunition by retaining a virginity she should have lost years ago. Gone were the days when a man wanted a virginal bride. Instead he expected a woman trained in the arts of sexual pleasure. Thus the role of the protector and pleasure slave for Cy-run’s socialites. Tingles of feminine awareness made her wonder if the priestess had drugged her wine with some type of aphrodisiac to ease her passage into womanhood. Certainly, she couldn’t recall being so aware of a man. Not even one worthy of her awareness. That she be so keenly focused on her sexuality must be a mind trick. Her gaze locked with the slave’s, she asked what she had to know, “Do you pledge your allegiance to me and me alone above that of my father, my future husband and the High Council?” 7

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“I do,” he answered immediately. She liked his voice. Strong, silky smooth. His gaze never wavered from hers. The fiery intensity offered reassurance and said she could believe him. Other than her father, she’d never trusted a man. Neither would she this one. Still, curiosity took hold and time demanded she move forward with the evening’s events. “Thank you for this gift.” Skye dipped her head in the direction of the high priestess, a woman of near ninety who’d been one of the original settlers of Cy-run following the surface war. The priestess nodded and she and her entourage, two young maidens and two protector and pleasure slaves, left Skye’s personal quarters. The automatic doors closed, trapping Skye inside with a massive man meant to supply her every desire. A man sworn to give his life to her. There was a proud angle to his jawline portraying an arrogance she’d never seen in a slave. An arrogance that suggested he deserved a better fate than the one dealt him. “Do you find your burden difficult to bear?” “My burden?” “To protect my life and provide me with pleasure.” Just saying the words caused heat to flood her cheeks. Somehow she’d hoped this would be easier. His gaze skimmed over her from head-to-toe, visually peeling away the gossamer gown. If she thought it possible, she’d swear he saw through the material to her nakedness below. Fighting the urge to cross her arms over her breasts, she straightened her shoulders. Let him see whatever it was he could see. She had nothing to be ashamed of other than her virginity. Which he would take care of this night, because she refused to allow

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Geoffery to be her first lover. Refused to give him leverage. Refused to shame her family. His eyes darkened with lust. “Doing you will be no burden.” Joy whipped through her at his words. Funny, it really didn’t matter if he found his duties a burden, but the knowledge that he wanted her heightened her awareness. Of her body as much as his broad shoulders and thick chest. “Have you served many women?” “As a man or as a slave?” His question confused her. Had he once been a free man? “Both.” “I have served many, but none as lovely as you.” Heat burned her cheeks and she turned away from his too intelligent eyes. Pacing across her living quarters, she made a quick decision. “I want to be seduced.” He blinked. “Seduced?” “I’m not a woman who cares to tell a man verbally what I want. I prefer for you to teach me what I want and then to give it to me.” “As you wish.” He didn’t seem to find her words odd, which encouraged her to continue. “If I don’t like it,” she gulped, hating to admit that perhaps she wouldn’t like his ministrations, “don’t stop until the deed is done.” “You’ll like it.” His smug smile unnerved her, as if he somehow knew she really would enjoy the night. The light in his eyes made her wonder if he was right. But how could he know such things when up to this point her sexuality left much to be desired? She felt at a distinct disadvantage and didn’t like it. Pride surged forward, filling her with a mixture of frustration and anger. Who was the master, who the slave? “Take off your clothes.” Her order came out brisk. 9

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Without so much as a lift of his black brows, he stripped off his simple garments, revealing well-sculpted abs, hard thighs, and a magnificent penis that jutted proudly forth. Was he constantly ready for a woman’s pleasure? Or did he feel the odd awareness sparking between them and was excited by the prospect? “Now what?” “Touch yourself.” That had a brow arching, but with curiosity rather than defiance as she halfexpected. “Where?” “You know where.” He took himself into his hands, encircling the hard length. “Here?” “Yes. Stroke yourself.” At ease with his body, he pumped his fists. The skin appeared silky smooth, yet as hard as a diamond. She had to touch, to see if something could be both soft and hard at the same time. Satin and steel. His pumping slowed fractionally when her finger brushed over the swollen, purplish head. “If you are going to touch me, then touch.” Blood rushed to Skye’s cheeks and she lifted her gaze. “You have no right to order me.”

Romjin let go of his throbbing cock and grabbed Skye’s wrists. Not hard enough to hurt her, but enough to let her know he was a man beneath the lowly slave she saw. Somehow, he suspected she desired the man rather than the slave. “I have no right to order you, but that’s what you want, isn’t it? You want a man to take control of your body and give you pleasure without having to think about it?

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Without having to ask for it? Without mentally willing yourself to enjoy what’s happening?” At her surprised expression, Romjin knew he’d interpreted her words right. For a moment, he’d wondered if he’d made a mistake. Would a pleasure slave truly dare to touch her so? Perhaps if he’d seen the look of need within his lady’s eyes. Need did shine in Skye’s violet eyes. Sexual need. Fear and an awed innocence also shone. Which made no sense. Skye Faar was a maiden of twenty-five years and had been schooled by pleasure slaves from her eighteenth birthday. Still, he knew what he saw. Damn if it didn’t turn him on. What a sexy contradiction she made. “Tonight, you will forget that I am your servant and you will do as I say.” He went with his gut instinct. “You will do as I tell you and in return I will give you pleasure as you have never known.” Her wrist seemed fragile within his grasp, but she didn’t pull away. Nor did she show any sign of weakness. She held his gaze. “What is your name?” His name? Did anyone care what a slave’s name was? Apparently, Skye Faar did. No matter. Few knew who he was or why he’d come. “Romjin.” “Okay, Romjin. For tonight, I will do as you say. Tell me what you would have me do.” His throbbing cock had a few suggestions, but he thought better than to order her to swallow him. Whether he was issuing the orders or her, tonight would be about seduction. It was what she said she wanted. Seduction. 11

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“You’re overdressed.” He gestured to her clothes. “Take it off.” Not taking her gaze from him, she reached behind her and undid a hook. In exaggerated movements, she peeled away the gossamer layers covering her flesh. When the material fell to reveal two milky globes of perfection, Romjin’s breath caught. He hadn’t meant it to, but air lodged in his throat, all the same. Not waiting for her to finish, he bent his head and took a rosy peak between his lips. Her skin tasted of the same flowery fragrance that permeated the air. Having never smelled a flower up close, he couldn’t label the scent beyond that, but he imagined the scent to come from the most exotic bloom. The material fell free from her fingers and cascaded down slim hips covered only by skimpy white lace panties. Skye trembled and arched into his mouth’s caress. Damn going slow and seductions. He took her breast into his mouth and sucked while exploring what his mistress unveiled. Soft. Never had he touched a woman so soft. The women outside the city walls were wiry, muscled from their labor. Not Skye. Although toned, she was soft and feminine, bringing out protective urges. Never had a woman’s flesh tasted so sweet. Like a rare piece of candy he’d eaten once as a child. Romjin blew hot breath on her damp nipple, then drew the pebble back into his mouth. Skye shivered. “You were right.” He liked how her voice no longer sounded haughty, but raspy. “About?” “My enjoying this.” “Did you doubt me?” 12


“Yes.” He paused at her answer. No doubt, her previous slaves failed to please her, but had one hurt her? The thought filled him with anger. No one—apparently save him— was allowed to hurt Skye Faar. “There is more to enjoy.” He cupped her hips and stooped to trail kisses over her flat belly. Such clean, milky flesh. Not a single blemish or smudge to mar its perfection. Taming the beast in him that wanted to rip her panties free, Romjin eased them over her hips. Gliding them downward in a sensual motion. He uncovered her blonde curls. “You’re beautiful.” The blush pinkening her skin stoked flames within his loins. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she didn’t realize her appearance oozed with feminine allure. “Thank you.” The words were polite, but said with such raw emotion Romjin battled to keep from ramming his cock between her thighs. He’d like nothing more than to bury himself into her tight pussy. She wasn’t ready. And he was supposed to be a pleasure slave, not here to take his own pleasure. But he’d be a damn liar if he didn’t admit that fucking Skye Faar was going to give him a great deal of pleasure. Him, Romjin Padjir, fucking the planned future bride of Geoffery Luemeare, fucking the daughter of Garic Faar. There was an irony to it that his enslavement should give him the opportunity to enjoy the sweetest piece of ass he was likely to come across. Or into, as would be the case before he finished with Skye. Pulling her to him, he buried his face between her legs and tortured her swollen lips with his tongue, held her turgid nub hostage between his teeth while she squirmed with pleasure, teased her anus with his finger while he tongue-fucked her wet cunt. Her legs wobbled and, despite her tight grip on his shoulders, she swayed. With one last lick up her gorgeous crack, Romjin stood and swept her into his arms.

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Most living quarters offered two rooms at most, but Garic Faar’s only child lived in palatial quarters, with rooms to spare. “Which way to your bed?” he growled after opening a door that obviously wasn’t her bedroom, but a room filled with books. “There,” she murmured against his neck. “Through there.” Romjin pushed against another door and stopped to stare at the opulent bed. Never in his life had he seen a bed so large. A bed that would easily sleep four grown men. A bed that was made for a princess. The bed in which Romjin Padjir would fuck said princess and make her come. Tonight. “What?” she asked, raising her head from the crook of his neck. She glanced up to see what he stared at. “Is something wrong?” Did she have any idea that people were sleeping on rock piles in the tunnels while she slept on a fairy tale bed made of down? “Nothing.” He laid her on the bed and stared down at the image she made. Her golden tresses resembled what he imagined sunshine must be like. Her breasts jutted upward. Her legs were long and sleek. Her eyes glazed with lust. For him. He wanted to gobble her up in one manly bite. “Touch me again, please.” Her plea surprised him. He hadn’t expected Skye Faar to beg for anything, much less something so basic as his touch, but beg she did. With her eyes and her welcoming body. Romjin dropped between her legs and licked her lips until he tasted the salty flavor of her juice, then he licked her cum from his own lips and pushed his finger into her. Damn, she was tight. Her gasp warned she was too tight. 14


The flap barring his path warned of something else altogether. He’d seen the innocence in her eyes, but hadn’t thought it would extend so far. Skye was a twenty-five-year-old virgin. How the hell had that happened? She stiffened and he realized he’d quit caressing, revealing that he knew her secret. “I demand you finish what you started,” she ordered in her most hoity–toity princess tone. Did she think he planned to quit? Hell, he’d never been with a virgin. The thought of taking her innocence pleased him, although it was most hedonistic of him to feel so. He’d stretch her tight cunt so completely that Geoffery Luemeare would never be able to satisfy her. The thought of the bastard’s hands on Skye blurred his vision. Why borrow problems? Geoffery had about as much chance of fucking Skye as he did of being voted leader of Cy-run. Neither was going to happen. “Tonight, you’re the one taking orders,” he reminded, brushing his fingertip across her feminine lips, covering them with her cum. “I have no intention of not finishing what we’ve begun, Skye.” “I didn’t give you permission to call me by my name.” Minx. “Then give me permission,” he pushed his finger back inside her cunt, “Skye.” “Yes,” she cried, writhing against his hand’s movements. “Yes,” she repeated when he slid in a second finger. “Oh yes.” Romjin finger-fucked her while lapping at her juice until her back arched off the bed with such an intensity he thought she might break in half. “Please.” Sick bastard that he was he liked her begging for his cock.

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Only problem, if she denied him he’d beg right back. His body demanded he provide his own release soon, one way or another. As if sensing his needs, Skye’s greedy fingers wrapped around him and began stroking back and forth mimicking how he’d pumped earlier while she watched. Fire blazed in his groin. A consuming fire that threatened to engulf all that he stood for. “I want you.” Her whispered admission astonished him, as much about Skye Faar provided the unexpected. Needing to take control of the situation before he lost his load in her hands—some pleasure slave that would be—Romjin moved above her, shoved her legs apart, and rested his cock at her opening. “Please.” She bucked her hips, trying to take him within her, but he held back. In her innocence, she didn’t realize what happened next would give way to pain before pleasure. He wasn’t a small man. She’d feel every thick inch of him cut into her tight channel. He shouldn’t care that she would hurt, should take extra pleasure knowing that the pampered princess would cry out his name with the beginning of her womanhood, but he hesitated. Damn it. She didn’t deserve his consideration. Her father stole from the people of Cy-run and sold them the air they breathed. The very bed they lay on was paid for by the blood, sweat, and lives of the miners and tunnel diggers who struggled for air, food, and water. Hardening his heart, Romjin thrust, tearing all barriers between them, refusing to catch her cry of pain with his mouth, refusing to acknowledge the wave of emotion flooding him.

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She lay stiff beneath him, as if bracing herself for more pain, and Romjin could stand no more. Forgetting everything but the woman joined with him, he began a slow pace meant to build pleasure within Skye, a pace meant to purge the pain from her memory and replace it with intense pleasure. She resisted his movements, but after the first few strokes her hips moved with him in a harmony that blended their bodies into one tangled mass. Romjin took her mouth, kissing her, tasting her sweetness and cursing himself for not having swallowed her pain. Salty tears stained her cheeks, and he kissed those away, too. For years, he’d fantasized about Skye Faar, carried her image in his head, dreamed of her when his eyes closed. Now, here he laid in her bed, inside her, tasting her flesh, enjoying her rich dampness, her moans of pleasure. Heat built, increasing his momentum, stoking him into a need so great he worried he might hurt her again when he came. She clenched around him, squeezing his cock with her sugar walls, and Romjin gave in to the beast and slammed into her cunt as hard as he could, mindless, without thought to anything except quenching their mutual need. When he spilt his seed inside her it was unlike anything he’d experienced. Raw. Real. Right. He collapsed onto Skye and whispered words he’d never spoken aloud. Words he sure as hell hadn’t meant to say, but couldn’t take back.

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Chapter Two “Pardon?” There were no illusions between masters and pleasure slaves. A slave served his master well, laying his life down if necessary, but it was a business relationship. Skye ran her fingers down Romjin’s back, dipping into the curve over his tight butt. The man’s body exuded magic that left her his captive. Romjin. Such a strong name. Such a strong man. No ordinary pleasure slave, that was for sure. Rajah had chosen well. Perhaps too well, because Skye would like nothing more than to lie in his arms for the remainder of the sleep cycle and explore every nuance of her newfound sexuality. Why couldn’t she? She wasn’t due in council for a week. She’d spend the next hours learning everything this man could teach her body. Why had he spoken needless words of love? Maybe he thought she needed the words as part of her seduction. A bittersweet touch considering she’d never know love. Of that she had no illusions, either. According to her father, Geoffery and she would form a union to better the quality of lives for the people of Cy-run. With the two families’ resources combined, air, water and food would be more readily available for all. Her father’s dream was for every family to have access to clean water and decent food. Her marriage would see that happen during her lifetime. When she married Geoffery she’d have to have sex with him, bear his children. Her grip on Romjin tightened, holding his body to hers as if, somehow, she could ward off any other man ever touching her.

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Insane. She relaxed her hold. What was she doing thinking about the future while wrapped around a pleasure slave? Perhaps she’d imagined his words because he didn’t answer her question, didn’t even seem to hear it. But he had tensed, perhaps wondering why she hugged him for dear life. No pleasure slave could have given her more. “Thank you.” Her gratitude seemed inadequate, but she wasn’t sure what else to say. It wasn’t as if she could tell Romjin her thoughts. Romjin rolled off, a gush of air cooling her exposed skin. He stared at her ceiling. Odd behavior for a pleasure slave, but no more so than a twenty-five year-old virgin. She must have blown his mind with that one. Her body pulsed and she became aware of the sheen of sweat covering her body and cooling her skin, the stickiness between her legs. She’d had sex with a pleasure slave. Now she understood all the oohs and aahs her companions made over their initiation to womanhood by their pleasure slaves. She’d certainly been missing out these past seven years, yet she didn’t regret waiting for Romjin. Fate dealt the cards as they were meant to play out and she’d been meant to wait for this man. Skye bit her lower lip when Romjin stood and walked to a basin. For long moments he stared at the collected water. “The faucet works, but there’s cold water for drinking in my front room. I can bring you one.” She started to rise from the bed, but the gush of fluids exiting her body held her in place. Embarrassed heat flooded her cheeks and her gaze met his.

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“Stay there.” He disappeared through the doorway and returned with two bottled waters. He handed one to her, watched her drink, then devoured the entire contents of his bottle. When he finished he sat the bottle beside her bed for later recycling, walked back to the basin, and picked up a cloth. He dampened it in the basin, then returned to the bed. Slowly, he began cleansing her body. “Are you sore?” “I feel wonderful.” It was true. Whether from his training or from the immediate attraction she’d felt for the man himself, her body responded magnificently to Romjin’s touch. “You aren’t like my previous pleasure slaves.” He gave a pointed look at the blood stains on her inner thighs. “Apparently.” “That isn’t what I meant.” She touched his shoulders, running her finger over the bunched muscles. “You’re different.” A beat flickered wildly at his throat, but otherwise he ignored her comment and kept brushing the cloth over her skin. “I’m glad,” she admitted. The cloth dabbed her inner thigh. A pulse throbbed to life there. “Glad?” How much could she tell him? Not everything, but enough that he’d know not to trust anyone, particularly not her future husband. “I never felt safe with my other protectors.” The washcloth lazily circled over her sensitive inner lips. Tingles of awareness rushed to the area. “You feel safe with me?” Did she?

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“I do.” With her words, she pulled away the washcloth and guided his fingers to where she yet again ached for his touch. How could she feel so wanton? “I have a week before I go to the high council to announce my marriage. I plan to spend it with you.” Skye squirmed against the pressure of his fingers, putting him more fully in contact with her clitoris. “What is it you plan to do with me, Skye Faar?” She could tell he enjoyed saying her name, perhaps because only under sexual duress had she granted him permission to do so. Her pleasure slave had a wild streak. Had Rajah known and specifically chosen him for that reason? Somehow, in her divine wisdom, knowing that trait would appeal to Skye? “I plan for you to teach me everything a woman needs to know to please a man.” “So you can please your future husband?” His jaw clenched and she didn’t need Rajah’s insight to see that he didn’t find the idea appealing. Did other protector and pleasure slaves become possessive of their masters? The idea of this man possessing her appealed. She placed her hands against his shoulders and tugged forward, indicating that she wanted him over her. “It is my duty.” Romjin did as she wished, keeping most of his weight on his elbows. “Duty?” Gaze locked with his, she stretched and tasted his mouth. Delicious. “To please my husband in bed and in all that I do.” She kissed him, enjoying every nuance of his lips, his tongue, his mouth. Her fingers dived into his thick hair and held him close while she explored his unique flavor. A low growl sounded deep in his throat. “You please me.” His ground out compliment reached inside Skye and grabbed hold. She’d pleased him.

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Encouraged by his words, she gave in to her need and arched, grinding her hips against the steely rod cushioned between their bodies. “I want you inside me again.” She nuzzled against the strong cords of his neck, nipping at his pulse. “I ache there so badly,” she thrust her pelvis, wanting him to know where she ached, “with need for you. The very thought of you inside me consumes me.” Romjin rained kisses over her face, her throat, and breasts. When she went to grab his shoulders to keep him from going lower, he trapped her hands over her head. “Not yet, it’s too soon. I’ll hurt you.” “Now,” she demanded. “I want you now.” Romjin paused, his expression resolute. “Now?” “Now.” Skye nodded. They’d have time for exploration and all the other things he wanted to teach her later. Now she craved the feel of him inside her, molding her body around his hardness. He thrust deep, invading her body in one fell swoop. She moaned her pleasure at the stretching sensation. “You’re so damn tight.” “Feels just right to me.” It did. Skye couldn’t imagine what it would be like with other men, with Geoffery. Just the thought was enough to make her pleasure momentarily dim. But Romjin thrust again, his body sliding erotically against her swollen cleft and sending her into a wave of spasms. They started deep in her belly and swirled outward until she clamped hold, digging her fingernails into his shoulders. “You like that?” Did he have to ask?

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He cocked his hips, pulling completely out except the very tip of him, then plunged back in. Over and over until her breath came in short pants and her body threatened to explode. “Romjin.” Even his name came in a pant. “I’m here.” His breathing sounded too easy, like he wasn’t nearly as caught up in sensations as she was. Skye opened her eyes—hadn’t even realized she’d shut them until she wanted to see his face and couldn’t. Sweat beaded on Romjin’s forehead and steely determination shone on his face, but his eyes told what she needed to know. They blazed with barely reined-in lust, pure and simple. Romjin enjoyed what they were doing, but used his training to hold back. She supposed it was what he was supposed to do, but she didn’t want his control. She wanted to see him fall apart, to see his eyes light with the orgasmic pleasure rocking her world. At the exact moment he was deepest inside, Skye squeezed her pelvic floor muscles, grasping his cock with her vaginal walls. Romjin’s eyes widened. Skye smiled and squeezed again, this time holding him tightly within her for a few seconds before relaxing. Timing her squeeze with his thrust, they met in rhythm. Deep thrust, squeeze. Deep thrust, squeeze. Although seemingly impossible, Skye swore she could feel him growing thicker. Definitely she could feel the growing tension in the rest of him. Tension she was causing. Wanting more and acting on instinct, she latched on to his nipple and bit the nub hard enough to get his attention. “Fuck.” Romjin’s arms wobbled, causing his weight to momentarily settle on her.

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Skye slid her legs around his waist, cradling him deep within her womb. “Yes, that’s what I want. You fucking me.” The dirty words felt foreign, but good on her tongue. “Quit holding back.” “I might hurt you.” He held perfectly still, like the slightest motion would send him tipping over the edge. “You won’t,” she promised, squeezing in tight, repetitious motions. “You won’t,” she repeated, kissing his throat. “Fuck me, Romjin. I order you to fuck me.” Pushing up off her, Romjin held her gaze and did just as she demanded. She had no illusions that it was because of her order. It wasn’t. He fucked her because it’s what he wanted. The intensity in his blue eyes dared her to think otherwise. Romjin’s flesh slapped against hers, creating a sound she found erotic and carnal. Each stroke threatened to lift her from the bed and send her spiraling to the earth’s surface, possibly into the heavens. Stars like those in storybooks danced in front of her eyes as her body twisted into a tight knot of nerves. Romjin thrust into her with a power deserving of a medal, uncoiling the knotted nerves in one wild move. “Yes,” she cried, wave after wave of emotion rocketing through her as he came deep, then collapsed onto her. “Oh yes,” she praised, kissing his sweaty temple. “That’s what I needed.”

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Chapter Three Romjin stared at the bedroom ceiling and wondered what the hell he’d gotten himself into. Never during sex had he felt an emotional connection with a woman. Not until tonight. With Skye Faar. Which was the worst possible time for him to bond in any sense other than sexually. Sexually might be the problem. That’s why men of his time preferred their women to be experienced, so they wouldn’t have the emotional responsibility of feminine innocence. He could think of no other reason than her virginity that would make him feel responsible for her. Okay, technically he was her sworn protector, but, hell, he was also a damn wolf in sheep’s clothing. A spy who would slit her throat if it meant freeing his people from the tunnels. His gaze lowered to Skye’s delicate throat and his chest clenched. Damn it. He would kill her if necessary. So what if he’d spent years with her image floating through his mind? Since he’d seen her from afar during a recon trip within the city walls during Skye’s eighteenth birthday celebration. Until tonight she hadn’t known he existed, yet, his world had evolved around her from that day forth. When Jonah needed a volunteer to train with Rajah in hopes of gaining access to Skye, Romjin requested the assignment. All because he wanted Skye. 25

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He rolled over, watched the rise and fall of her chest, was tempted to kiss the rosy peaks. Damn, he had to keep a clear head. Easing from the bed so as not to wake her, Romjin returned to the living area and put on his clothes. Checking his pant pockets for the coins Rajah had given him, he slipped out of Skye’s quarters. Immediately he felt the difference in air quality. Inside Skye’s quarters, oxygen flowed freely, but outside the walls, only the minimum amount necessary to sustain life filled his lungs. Romjin walked to the balcony overlooking the city. Cy-run. A cyber run city located inside a giant cave a mile underground that started out as a wealthy man’s science experiment. Garrison Faar, Skye’s grandfather. When the war began and the threat of mass destruction loomed, labor efforts picked up and Lamont Luemeare’s services were enlisted to develop underground nurseries, gardens, and farm houses using the same principles many drug dealers once used to grow marijuana in caves. All systems developed to run off energy from the earth’s core and hydro-electricity generated from a nearby underground river. But the population grew and overcrowding was an issue, along with a lack of resources. The laws demanded everything be recycled, but it wasn’t enough. Returning to the surface wouldn’t be viable for several more centuries when the radiation levels lowered sufficiently. With no night-day cycles, the city never slept. For a hundred stories above him, the round city perimeter provided a balcony system with an entrance to a living quarter every ten feet. All except on this main floor. The floor where the High Council dwelled. A High Council comprised mainly of those who’d played a role in founding the city and the wealthy who’d bought into Cy-run. Those who hadn’t been able to buy admission to the underground world signed on as slaves.

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A slavery that had gone too far, sending people into the tunnels to their death so those within the city wall could continue to prosper. Romjin kept his head bowed in true slave fashion. Although the streets bustled with activity, no one paid him any attention. Why would they? He was dressed in slave attire and not considered worthy of a second glance. Not until he appeared in High Court as Skye Faar’s protector—should she invite him and he’d see to it that she did—would anyone pay him any mind. Then it would mainly be a curiosity factor. Criss-crossing support beams ran from the floor of the city to the ceiling a thousand feet above. In the center stood a non-denominational temple, used for all to worship their deity. Inside the temple, he would find Rajah. Slipping past the area meant for the public and through the long passageways that led to where the high priestess resided, Romjin knocked. Sahib, a dark-skinned woman who rarely left Rajah’s side and was said to be her life partner, opened the door and motioned to enter. “Rajah wasn’t expecting to see you.” “Skye sleeps.” Sahib’s inky eyes rounded on him. “Skye? You call her by her given name?” Romjin arched a brow. “I just spent an hour in her bed. After that, what woman wouldn’t allow me to call her anything I so chose?” Sahib smiled, two of her front teeth missing, as she brushed her wrinkled knuckles against his arm. “You is a bad man, Romjin Padjir.” He winked. “I’ve been called worse.” “By me.” He laughed. “What have you been saying behind my back, Sahib?” “Much, Romjin Padjir.” She ushered him into Rajah’s private room. “Much.” Romjin bowed before the high priestess, then bent low to her ear. “Any word?” “The rumors continue to spread.” 27

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Sahib settled onto a cushion next to Rajah, closed her eyes, and inhaled the incense Rajah always burned. “Rumors of the rebellion?” Romjin asked as he sat cross-legged on the floor opposite Rajah and Sahib. “Rumors of Garic Faar stepping down to let his daughter lead Cy-run.” “You believe these rumors?” Rajah laughed. “I learned long ago rumors are but a distorted image of the truth.” “Distorted image?” “When Skye came to me asking for a new protector and pleasure slave, she asked for different things from the past. A protector who would be loyal to her above and beyond all others. A protector who showed bravery and quick intelligence. A protector who wouldn’t be easily defeated. These qualities were more important to her than sexual training.” None of this was new to him. Rajah had told him of Skye’s visits, had trained him in what he needed to know to pass as a protector and pleasure slave, and wholeheartedly supported his cause. “Why are you telling me this again?” “Because she senses she’ll need protection after her marriage. Whether she consciously knows this or only admits it in her heart is uncertain, but Skye knows change is in the air.” “Air her father owns.” “Aye, but not much longer.” “Not much longer,” Romjin agreed. “Send word to Jonah that I’m in and she trusts me.” Rajah grabbed his hand with her gnarled one. “You’re sure of this?” Romjin closed his eyes and inhaled the incense. Skye’s face danced before him, trust shone in her gaze. “I’m sure.” 28


“Are you equally sure that if she refuses to cooperate that you’ll be able to fulfill your duties?” Rajah’s question had his eyes flying open. “I’ve never given Jonah reason to doubt my loyalties.” “Aye, but betraying your heart has never been an issue.” “My heart lies with the rebellion.” Rajah eyed him for long moments. “‘Tis true, but a heart torn in two can lie with both sides.” “Save your fortune telling for another. I would willingly lay down my life for my people.” “Aye,” Rajah agreed, patting his hand, “but will you lay down Skye’s should she stand in your way?”

Romjin regretted his visit to Rajah. In the past, she’d cleared his thoughts, but this visit she added to his unease. She questioned his loyalties. Never had anyone doubted where Romjin Padjir’s heart lay. “Romjin.” His eyes jerked to the woman huddled on the brightly cushioned sofa. Some warrior. He hadn’t even noticed her when he’d entered her living quarters. She turned on the light and wide violet eyes stared at him. She wore nothing but the bed sheet wrapped around her lush curves. “Where did you go?” He lifted his offering, strawberries he’d bought from a street vendor with the coins provided by Rajah. “I wanted to give you a gift.” Her gaze dropped to the small plastic container of berries. “I thought you’d left me.”

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“Why would I do that?” He crossed the room and set the berries before her. “With you is where I want to be.” Damn it all, but that was the truth of it. Which was exactly Rajah’s point. A man couldn’t serve two masters and, no matter what his personal feelings, freeing Cy-run came first.

Skye picked up a berry and stared at the plump fruit. How had he known the berry was her favorite? How did he know where to touch her? What to say? And why had the thought he’d left her and she might not see him again scare her so much when she awakened? She considered sending out the Cy-run guards to find him, but hadn’t for fear they’d kill him if he resisted. No one resisted a Cy-run guard. But Romjin might have tried. She hadn’t been willing to take the risk. So she sat, wrapped in bedclothes that smelled of his scent, praying he’d return to her. “I was frightened when I awoke alone.” “Frightened?” He sank onto the sofa, wrapped his arms around her. “Your father owns the underworld. You have nothing to fear.” A humorless laugh escaped her lips. Nothing to fear except fear itself. With owning Cy-run came a power that demanded much. It was why her father forbade any to look directly at her without permission. Romjin couldn’t understand that, but it’s what she’d been trained for since her brother’s death when she was five. Cy-run politics ran the gamut of what the high council wanted, but few opposed the Faars and Luemeares. Together, the two families dictated the laws of the city and for sixty years there had been peace and prosperity. Cy-run provided everything necessary for survival to its people. It wasn’t the grandiose life-style lived by their surfacedwelling ancestors, but it was life.

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“Perhaps you are right.” He brushed a berry across her lips. “Trust me.” Trust him. Rajah trusted him. Otherwise the priestess wouldn’t have brought him to her. In the past, Skye’s father had chosen her protector and pleasure slave. Only through Rajah’s help had she convinced him to let the priestess chose. “Did you mean it when you said you loved me?” His eyes darkened and he lowered the berry. “My tongue got away from me.” “Then it wasn’t true?” He took a deep breath and she could tell he regretted his earlier words. “I did not lie.” Believing him, she took the berry from his hand and placed it in his mouth. “I asked for you because my handmaiden has heard that following my marriage to Geoffery an attempt will be made on my life.”

Romjin didn’t have to pretend shock at her words. Skye wasn’t supposed to have knowledge of the rebellion or their plans to end her life if necessary and, thus, upset the tyranny with which Cy-run was ruled. He pushed the berry to the side of his mouth without biting into it. “She knows this how?” “I’m told a lover whispers many things during the sleep cycle.” Skye smiled at him. “What shall you whisper to me during our rest, Romjin?” He assimilated the knowledge. Had one of the rebels pillow-talked? It seemed hard to believe someone would betray the cause, but he wasn’t so naïve as to think it couldn’t happen. Long before men had gone underground they’d been betraying their own. Shit. Who else knew of this? “Your father? Geoffery? What do they say?” 31

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Skye looked upward, then shook her head. “My father believes my marriage will protect me from anyone wishing to do me harm.” “And you?” “I believe my marriage will be what brings me harm.” Realization dawned. “You think Geoffery Luemeare intends to end your life?” She shrugged. “He has everything to gain by my demise.” The rumors must be true. Garic Faar intended to step down from his position on the High Council. “If you’re gone, Luemeare will rule Cy-run?” “Geoffery owns a great deal of Cy-run, second only to my father. The majority of Cy-run’s food supply comes from Geoffery. Without his crop and farm tunnels, Cy-run would starve.” “Crop tunnels irrigated by Faar water. Animals oxygenated by Faar air. Luemeare is nothing without Faar resources.” Skye nodded. “With your marriage, Luemeare has control of everything.” “Not with our marriage, per se, but should anything happen to me, yes, he’d control it all.” The bastard would starve the people for his own wealth and those dwelling outside the city would suffer even more. Shit. “And as long as you’re alive?” “As long as I’m alive Cy-run will have air and water.” A sly smile tilted her mouth. “Within a month they’ll have food without depending on Geoffery.” He arched a brow in question. “The High Council doesn’t know yet, including my father as I intend to surprise him, but I’ve converted an abandoned mine to new food tunnels.” She looked so damn proud. As she should. How was it that he’d heard nothing of these new tunnels being 32


dug? Then again, new tunnels were continuously being mined to accommodate the growing population. Why would anyone have paid attention to a few more? “The first crops were planted from seeds stored originally by my grandfather.” His admiration for the woman before him grew ten-fold. She wasn’t indifferent to the plight of her people. Not completely. She saw their needs and she worked to meet them. “I won’t let Luemeare hurt you.” She smiled, touched his cheek where the berry pooched the skin. “That’s why Rajah chose you. Now, eat your berry. You’re going to need your strength for what I desire.” Romjin bit into the fruit, sweet juice pleased his senses. Rajah said Skye preferred the berries, now he knew why. Ambrosia. “You like?” Skye held another berry to his mouth, brushed it across his lips. “Perhaps you should have another.” But instead of pushing it into his mouth, eyes dancing, she placed it between her teeth. Instant lust licked through him and he pushed his worries aside. Skye wanted him again. She would have him, but this time he’d be gentle. Otherwise, she’d be too sore for activities when they woke. They had seven sleep cycles before High Council. Romjin took the berry from her mouth, bit into it to release the nectar, then kissed Skye, sharing the sweet juice.

“Mmm,” Skye praised, licking her lips. “That’s good.” She picked another berry from the container, bit the tip off and then smeared it across Romjin’s chest, leaving a juicy trail in her wake.

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His eyes darkened. Skye bent and ran her tongue over the moist path, lapping at his skin. When she’d cleaned every succulent drop, she smiled up at him. “I think you missed a spot.” “Oh?” Skye inspected his chest. No trace of strawberry juice. “Uhmm, I’m going to have to do a more thorough job.” She lowered her head and licked his chest. Little licks that resembled a cat lapping up cream. Each stroke of her tongue over his smooth skin sending tiny shockwaves through her body. He cupped her head, massaging his fingers through her hair. When she glanced up, he watched her through half-closed lids. Skye paused, suddenly unsure of herself. Was she boring Romjin? Did he only tolerate her inexperience due to her father being Garic Faar and his vow to the priestess? She pulled back, but his hand held her close. With the expression of a warrior rather than a pleasure slave, Romjin pulled her to him and sucked her lower lip into his mouth. Giving her lips the same treatment she’d bestowed upon his chest, he flicked his tongue over her sensitive lower lip. Without her realizing his intentions, he slid a berry into her mouth and kissed her, sucking the fruit’s juice. “You’re sweeter than any berry.” He was, too, she thought. Sweeter than any delicacy she’d yet to sample and she craved more of his unique taste. Kissing him, she plucked another berry and smushed it into his chest, rubbing the fruit into a sticky mess across his skin. To her surprise, Romjin chuckled. A deep, manly sound that vibrated throughout his chest. A sound that she instantly craved to hear again. Without a word, he pushed the bed sheet aside and smashed a berry between her breasts. Juice dribbled down her belly, leaving a sticky, pink trail.

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“A shame to waste such rare sweets,” he said before kneeling beside the sofa and catching the juice with his tongue and tracing the path upward to the smushed fruit between her breasts. Instead of eating the berry as she’d expected, he began to nibble at her breasts, teasing and taunting her swollen flesh with mini-licks, but not taking her into his mouth. Instinctively, she arched her back, thrusting her breasts toward him. How could she not when what he did elicited such divine ripples of pleasure? He squeezed a strawberry over her breast, letting the juice trickle over the fullness and puddle at her nipple before he slurped it up. Skye tore at his pants, pushing them off his body to pool at his ankles. Taking a handful of the berries, she crushed them in her fist then grasped his penis with her sticky fingers, gliding the juice and bits of berries over his sleek length. “You don’t know what you’re doing,” he warned, his voice low and gravely. “I do.” She squeezed his thick shaft. “Just because I was a virgin doesn’t mean my pleasure slaves taught me nothing.” His eyes widened. She shook her head, denying his thoughts. “Not that. My handmaiden was in love with my first pleasure slave, which is why I accepted him. I gave him to her as a gift. They were beautiful together.” His breath caught as she traced her tongue over the mess she’d made. Over and over until his silky skin stretched taut and she wondered what he’d do if she took him into her mouth. “Did you touch yourself while you watched?” “Yes.” What was she doing? Admitting so much to him? Yet, looking into his eyes, so full of blue lust, she didn’t feel embarrassed, only sensual. “Touch yourself now.”

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His words echoed the ones she’d said earlier, and as he’d done, she obeyed. Semiobeyed, because she kissed the tip of him and kept one hand wrapped around him while she let the other glide over her belly and between her thighs. Skye fell back into a lying position on the sofa, one hand around Romjin, the other wiggling against her clitoris. She concentrated on stroking him, yet also craved to find the rhythm that would push her into that mind-boggling oblivion. His hands covered hers. First on him, then on her. Together they pumped him. Together they primed her. Tiny bursts of light exploded in front of her eyes, an aura to the massive explosion when Romjin’s finger slipped inside her and applied pressure to just the right spot. “Oh!” She bucked against him, then relaxed against the sofa, breathing hard and holding on to his penis as if it were her personal handle. He gave her a minute to float down from her climax. When she finally felt capable, Skye smiled. “That was amazing.” “‘That’ isn’t finished.” He jutted his proud flesh against her hand. Strawberry bits stuck to her fingers and stained his skin. Without letting go of her handle, Skye stood. “Follow me.” Although she gave the order, she tugged on a vital piece of equipment until he refused to budge. “What? He gave a pointed look to where his pants pooled above his boots. “Shoes. You have to remove your shoes.” She sighed. “Let me.” “You’ll get juice all over them.” “I don’t care.” And she didn’t. She stooped and undid his boots quickly tugging them off his feet. “Now. Follow me.” Lacing her hand with his, she led him down the hallway to her private haven, a pure luxury not afforded by many in the underground.

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“Is that what I think it is?” Romjin stared at the sunken marble tub with room for two. Skye nodded and hit the control panel, setting the water temperature to a hundred and ten degrees. In seconds, steaming water collected. “Let’s wash.” She stepped into the tub, but Romjin only stared. “So much water.” Skye’s gaze dropped to the rapidly rising water level, already it lapped mid-shin. There were few tubs in the entire city. Less than fifty. Water was a precious commodity and most washed via basins, with the wealthy having a water-conserving shower system, and the very wealthy having tubs. “Water for us. Get in.” Still he stood. “Romjin?” His gaze lifted to hers and her heart fell.

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Chapter Four Romjin wouldn’t have thought it possible to go from aroused to desolate so fast. How could he have forgotten Skye was essentially a princess, pampered, spoilt, and having no idea how others lived. Proof stood before him in the form of an enormous cut out into the marble floor. A tub full of steaming water. Enough water to quench many tunnel dweller’s thirst. How could he use water for his pleasure when thoughts of dry-throated children ran through his heart? When thoughts of miners, dirty and parched, haunted his memories? “Romjin?” Skye touched his cheek, her smooth hands yet another reminder of her privileged life. “Is something wrong?” Wrong? His insides twisted. He wasn’t a tunnel dweller, he was Skye Faar’s protector and pleasure slave. A slave trained to fulfill her wishes. Even if those wishes echoed just how different they truly were. Taking a deep breath, he forced a smile, a smile of indulgence. “I’ve never seen so much clean water.” Skye’s forehead wrinkled, as if she sensed he wasn’t telling her everything, but she glanced at the tub and her expression softened. “It’s wonderful, isn’t it?” “Wonderful,” he agreed. What else could he say? That she should be ashamed for wasting so much water when there were those whose thirst hadn’t been quenched for days? “It’s the one true luxury I allow myself.”

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The one? Had she no idea that the fresh vegetables and fruits she ate on a daily basis was a luxury? That, like most of his people, he’d never tasted a strawberry until moments before? Her gaze lifted from the tub and she smiled at him a bit whimsically. “I see in your eyes that you think it a waste of resources, but indulge me this once.” She flexed her neck, stretching like one of the felines that roamed the temple. “The water will soothe my muscles.” Muscles that needed soothing because of his voracious sexual appetite. Never should he have taken her so roughly. Twice. Remorse hit him. It was only at the ingenuity of her grandfather that Cy-run existed. Why should he begrudge her a bath? Even if there were people dying of thirst, without her grandfather all would have been lost. Romjin inhaled, noting the strong scent of flowers once again. That’s when he truly took in the magnificence of the room. Greenery grew everywhere. Flowers of all shapes and sizes popped out between leaves. At the far end of the room an apple tree bearing fruit grew. Not even inside the temple did such abundant plant life abound. Holy shit. He’d stepped into the Garden of Eden. “This is amazing.” She nodded. “It’s my favorite room. A gift from my father.” “How do the plants survive?” Skye walked over to the control panel on the wall and hit a button. The room brightened to where Romjin had to shield his eyes. Immediately, Skye dimmed the lights to a normal level. “This room is my sanctuary. I come here when I need to think or be alone.” “A private paradise.” “The water from the tub will be allowed to cool and used for the plants when we’re finished.”

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Not so wasteful, after all. Had he misjudged her again? Romjin covered her hand, pressing it flat against his cheek. “Thank you for sharing your paradise.” Her eyes searched his. “The pleasure is mine.” Her lips twitched and Romjin couldn’t repress the urge to kiss her. Whether from the abundance of water, the plant life unlike anything he’d seen, or just the look in Skye’s eyes, joy filled him. “It will be,” he promised, kissing her again. Skye refused to let him deepen the kiss. She took his hand and led him into the tub, motioning him to sit. Not letting go of her hand, Romjin sat, pulling her onto his lap. He wasn’t sure which felt more heavenly. The hot water engulfing his body or the woman he held. Both heated his blood. Both made him want to sink further under whatever enchanted spell bound him. Skye wiggled, her bottom pressing firmly between his thighs. He lifted her hair, admired the delicate curve of her neck, and dropped a kiss onto a milky shoulder. She shivered. “Cold?” He didn’t see how she could be with the warm water bubbling around them. She didn’t answer, just lay back against him. “This is perfect.” He couldn’t argue. His muscles relaxed, languidness enveloping him. He circled her waist, hugging her. “Romjin?” she asked after they had relaxed, enjoying the water and the feel of each other, for over twenty minutes. “Hmm?” “Can I wash you?” “Is this a trick question?” 40


She twisted to look at him, laughter dancing in her violet eyes. “Only if you say no.” He laughed, but his laughter faded into something more intense as his gaze picked up on how the swell of her breasts bobbed above the water. He swallowed the knot forming in his throat. No matter how much he wanted to explore this wonderful feeling moving through him, no way could he have sex with her again. She’d ache something fierce as it was. “I doubt I ever have the strength to tell you no, Skye Faar.” Her lips curved. “Someday, I shall remind you of that.” He turned her, facing her toward him where she didn’t have to strain to look at him, to where her knees hugged his hips. Staring into her eyes, he brushed hair from her face. “No doubt you will.” Her eyes searched his face, seriousness darkening her gaze. Cupping his jaw, she kissed him. A kiss unlike any they’d shared. More carnal, more demanding, more full of emotion. More. Romjin’s hands sluiced through the water, gliding over her satiny skin, loving how the water caressed their bodies, how the steam made Skye’s golden hair frame her face with damp ringlets. She moved above him, taking him deep inside before he could protest. He fought instantly coming. From the moment their lips met he’d wondered at the possibilities of joining with her beneath the water. Wondered if it were possible. Now he knew. Hell yes. Possible and impossibly satisfying with Skye’s slim hips riding him, taking her pleasure and giving ten-fold. He devoured her mouth, dragging long kisses from her lips. Every muscle in his body contracted, urging him to take control of the rhythm her hips set, but he restrained

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those urges, allowing her to bring herself to climax on his cock, allowing her to set the pace for fear of hurting her. When she whimpered and fell against his chest, Romjin kissed the top of her head and checked his own needs. He’d take care of himself later. “Don’t leave me, Romjin.” She snuggled against him. “No matter what happens with my marriage, don’t leave me. Promise.” Her marriage. To Geoffery Luemeare. Skye was never meant to be his, yet undeniably she was. Did she feel it, too? Wrapping his arms around her, Romjin accepted that he had seven cycles to love this woman. “I won’t leave you, Skye.” But even as he made the promise he knew, one way or the other, he would leave and Skye would likely want him gone long before he did.

***** Music played in the background, falsely giving the sense of calm, but tension bellowed from Romjin’s body. His eyes appeared downcast, but Skye knew he took in every aspect of the High Council. She wanted to take his hand and reassure him, but reassurance was in short supply. In moments, her father would announce not only her marriage to Geoffery, but also, his plans to step down as head of the High Council. “Are you okay, my mistress?” asked Keena, one of Skye’s handmaidens. “Fine,” she lied. After the events taking place she would be expected to give herself to Geoffery. She’d never be fine again. “You look beautiful,” the woman gushed, her eyes admiring Skye’s white gown adorned with heavy gold jewelry. Both gifts from her father in honor of today’s ceremony. “You glow.” Not from excitement over taking her father’s place on the High Council. Nor from her pending marriage. 42


She snuck another look at Romjin. He wore traditional protector and pleasure slave ceremony garb. White pants, white shirt. The contrast between the clothes and his dark features dampened her panties. Not two hours ago he’d held her down and fucked her from behind, yet she wanted him with an intensity that scared her. How was she to be with Geoffery when her body was consumed with desire for another? It wasn’t the way of her people to obsess over a pleasure slave, but then, perhaps she was the one enslaved to Romjin’s magic. Her companion, Tia, questioned her on just that when she’d seen Skye’s gift at Romjin’s waist. A finely crafted sword with an intricate, gold, inlaid handle. A gift worthy of a prince, but now belonging to a slave. Cy-run guards screened for laser guns, but a ceremonial sword adorning one’s clothing wouldn’t cause the bat of an eyelash. He’d handled the sword with expertise as she’d known he would. Unable to stop herself despite the inappropriateness, Skye touched Romjin’s hand. His fingers briefly squeezed hers, but he never looked or let on they’d touched. As they came to the head of the High Council, Skye’s companions fell back, taking their appointed places. Reluctant to leave Romjin but having no choice, Skye joined her father in their place of honor. “Skye.” He took her hands, embraced her. “Father.” She leaned forward to kiss his cheeks, warmth filling her at his expression of pride. He gestured to the room full of members of the High Council and the socially prominent. “This will go down in Cy-run’s history.” Skye nodded, wishing she shared in his excitement. “You shall be declared leader of Cy-run.” But for how long before Geoffery found a way to remove her from power?

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“Geoffery will help you.” Skye sought out her future husband. Their eyes met. Dark brown eyes when she adored blue. Greed when she craved generosity and goodness. As children they’d played together, but even then he’d taken her toys, attempted to dominate. “Together, you’ll achieve what I’ve not been able. Every Cy-run citizen will have affordable water, food, air. ‘Tis a time to celebrate.” Skye nodded, believing in her father’s dream for Cy-run. She longed to be free of obligation, to be able to live out her life with Romjin, but if not for her obligations, Romjin wouldn’t be in her life. Fate could be cruel. Panic filled her. Before the week’s end, she would mate with Geoffery and inside a year she would be expected to give birth. After giving birth to an heir, she would be expected to either fade into the background of Cy-run politics or Geoffery would dispose of her. Permanently. Which left her very little time to finish laying the groundwork to insure her father’s dream. “A Cy-run where every citizen has fresh water and their own garden. Can you imagine?” She could. She imagined it frequently. Imagined other couples enjoying bathing the way she and Romjin had. Her eyes sought him. His eyes bore into her, watching, alert. Her father’s gaze followed hers. His gaze lingered at the sword. “Your protector? He pleases you that much?” “Yes.” He sighed, sounding relieved. “I must say that I’m glad Rajah chose someone who suited your fancy.”

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Skye’s gaze shot to her father. He knew? Knew that she’d freed her other three protector and pleasure slaves without having lost her virginity? Knew that with Romjin she had taken care of that ritual to womanhood? Heat fused into her cheeks at her father’s laughter. “‘Tis the way of the world, Skye.” He tweaked her chin. “Without sex our species would have ceased to exist long ago. If he gave you so much pleasure, I’ll gift him a sword, as well.” Skye nodded, her gaze going from Romjin to her intended who headed in their direction. “Geoffery will make a good husband.” Perhaps. Maybe she should be more open-minded to the idea, less suspicious of the man she would life partner with. “Skye? What’s wrong?” Her father saw too much. “Pre-wedding jitters, nothing more,” Geoffery interrupted, taking her hand in his. Skye flinched, and barely kept from jerking away her hand. Her father looked from her to Geoffery. “Skye?” “Is needed by Councilman Reeves. He wishes to congratulate us before all mayhem breaks loose following your announcements.” “Congratulate us?” Skye frowned, as much at Geoffery’s obligatory kiss to her cheek as his words. “On?” “Our wedding.” Many women would consider the tall blond man, with his handsome face, lean build, and tremendous wealth, a great catch. Skye wanted to gag. “We hadn’t discussed telling anyone before father’s announcement.” He shrugged. “What does it matter if we share our news with a few close friends ahead of time?” 45

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Close friends? He considered Councilman Reeves a close friend? Yet another reason to question her future husband. Councilman Reeves slithered like a snake in the grass. The man gave her the creeps. Always had. “Father? Please.” “You can’t blame a man for being excited at his upcoming nuptials, Skye. Not when he’s marrying the most beautiful woman in the city.” Her father gave her an endearing smile and slapped Geoffery’s back. “Indeed.” Geoffery raised his glass of wine in salute, took a sip. Trumpets sounded, causing all to look toward the center of the courtyard. Councilman Reeves stood, waving to all in his pompousness. His pudgy cheeks glowed with unnatural blush and his eyes appeared as two dark spots on his face. Beady and full of evil. What was going on? Councilman Reeves didn’t start the proceedings. Her father did. Before Skye realized what he was doing, Geoffery led her away from her father, effectively blocking her opportunity to speak with him alone before the announcement of his retirement. Oh God. In mere minutes all of Cy-run would know she belonged to Geoffery. But she didn’t. Not in her heart. “What’s going on?” she asked, when they stood at the threshold overlooking the court. “I have a surprise for you.” “I don’t like surprises.” “You’ll like this one.” She doubted that. Councilman Reeves finished whatever it was he said—she’d missed it all—and the lights dimmed and colors flashed.

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Exotic dancers sashayed into center court. This was supposed to be a council meeting, not a show. The dancers performed, graceful and beautiful. If not for her unease she could lose herself in their fluidness. From where she watched, she could barely see Romjin. Perhaps in tune with her wishes he moved into her line of sight and through the distance, their gazes locked. His stance bespoke that of the highest councilman rather than that of a slave. Sword at his waist, his shoulders wide, his gaze non-giving, he looked like a warrior waiting to attack. Geoffery’s fingers dug into her wrist. “Who is he?” She tugged, trying to free herself, but he refused to let go. “My slave.” Geoffery eyed Romjin and gave a harsh laugh. “Rough looking devil, isn’t he? What was your father thinking?” “Rajah chose him.” “Rajah? What does she have to do with it?” “I was pleased with her choice.” Geoffery’s brow arched. “Were you now?” He laughed and downed the rest of his wine. “Perhaps after our wedding night I’ll also be pleased with Rajah’s choice.” The dancers finished, saving Skye from having to answer. Thank God as she wasn’t sure she could hold her tongue. Her father stepped up next to Councilman Reeves. Her ears burned, causing her to miss the start of his speech, but she didn’t miss the part about her wedding to Geoffery. That rang loud and clear in her ears. He pulled her toward the limelight. Instinct told her to run, to go to Romjin, and beg him to take her far away. Crazy, Cy-run needed her and she would never abandon the city.

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“My daughter, Skye Faar, has once again made me extremely happy.” Her father blessed her with his smile. “She’s agreed to wed Geoffery Luemeare and together they will brighten Cy-run’s future.” Clapping abounded throughout the court, but one set of hands didn’t come together in praise.

Romjin shifted his weight, the sword heavy at his side. Perhaps from longing to thrust it through Geoffery Luemeare’s mid-section. Could these people not see how fake Skye’s smile was? How sad her eyes? “It is her destiny.” Romjin glanced at the young woman next to him. Skye’s handmaiden. The one who’d warned of death plots? “Destinies are forged,” he told her. “Not set in stone.” A woman with hair of similar color to Skye’s shook her head. “Whoever told you that lied.” Another handmaiden. Beautiful, but he suspected she came with claws. “Tia,” Keena scolded. “We are talking about Skye’s marriage to Cy-run’s most eligible bachelor. It’s not as if being his wife will be a chore.” Tia’s gaze settled onto the spotlighted couple. “Such a destiny should be mine to suffer.” Then she turned to Romjin, ran her fingertip along his jaw. “Should you need entertaining while Skye tends to her husband, you know where to find me.” He didn’t, but he had no desire to know. He could live without that particular set of claws digging into his flesh. “Tia!” Keena swatted Tia’s hand away from him. “Behave. Despite giving her last three pleasure slaves to you, Skye has yet to give this one to you.” Ah, so Tia was responsible for Skye’s induction to voyeurism and self pleasure.

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“But she will.” Tia’s pink lips curved and she blew Romjin a kiss. Definitely this one had told Skye what her lover revealed. She’d know how to make a man talk in his sleep. “She will.” Not if he had any damn thing to say about it. He desired no woman other than Skye. Romjin’s eyes returned to where she stood center court. So beautiful with her hair fixed in fancy curls, her gown appearing so delicate he’d been almost afraid to touch the material for fear of tearing it. She’d had no such qualms and kissed him thoroughly. Hell, they’d done more than that. He’d taken her like a dog in heat, grasping her hips and slapping his flesh into her tight cunt. A scream pierced the air. Skye’s scream. She lunged at her father just as Garic Faar collapsed to the courtyard. Damn, he hadn’t been watching, had been distracted by thoughts of sex. With ease, Romjin flipped over the low wall separating him from the courtyard and pushed past scores of Cy-run guards. Nothing would keep him from Skye. The guards moved in around the royal couple, forming a protective barrier. Romjin paused, trying to decide on the best course of action. Violence or diplomacy? That’s when Skye’s second scream pierced the noisy courtyard. He drew his sword and thrust it into the guard closest to him, then another as he cleared a path to Skye. From the corner of his eye, he saw Luemeare’s arms around her crouched body. Was she hurt? Romjin kicked a guard and readied his sword. He barely side-stepped a blow from another guard. One he sent to a swift death. When the guard fell, others surrounded him. Fine. He’d kill them all. That’s when he made eye-contact with a nearby guard.

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Jonah. He looked closer at the guards around him. At best guess half were rebels in disguise, distinguished from the real guards only by their knowledge of each other. The time of revolution had arrived. Jonah’s sword thrust into the unsuspecting flesh of a Cy-run guard and he butted up against Romjin as they battled more guards. “Skye Faar’s is key to our cause,” he warned. “Protect her.” Skye. Fighting his way to the center court, Romjin barreled through the guards and faced Geoffery Luemeare. “What the hell?” Luemeare cursed when Romjin stepped in front of him. “Guards!” Instantly, more guards surrounded Romjin. Damn it, he had to get Skye to safety. Why didn’t she look up? She hunched on the ground as if weeping. Hunched over a lifeless body. Her father. “Skye?” he called, trying to get her attention. They had to get out of here. Luemeare pulled on Skye’s arms, whether to get her to safety or to pull her into harm’s way was unclear and not a chance Romjin was willing to take. His sword cut through a guard’s throat, spewing forth blood. “Stay away, you bastard.” Geoffery Luemeare wielded a drawn sword and readied to thrust. “At first glance, I could see you were no pleasure slave. Why did you do this?” Skye glanced up, accusation settling into her eyes. She thought he did this? “You heard me,” Luemeare stepped closer to Skye, “Who the hell do you work for?” A guard fell for no apparent reason and Romjin suspected the man had taken a death meant for Skye. A death dart.

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Romjin ignored Luemeare’s words and focused on Skye. Tears stained her cheeks, her eyes bleak. He held out his hand to her. “Skye, you must come. Now. It isn’t safe.” Luemeare laughed. “Go with you? Her father’s killer? I think not.” Romjin didn’t think he could throw Skye over his shoulder and battle Luemeare and the guards at the same time, but what choice did he have when it was unclear who the enemy was? “Skye, there isn’t time for a discussion. Come with me.” Another guard fell. “Don’t listen, Skye. Look at him. Have you ever seen such a pleasure slave? He’s an imposter, sent to kill us.” Cries of pain pierced the increasing noise level. All mayhem was breaking loose. “There isn’t time for this.” Romjin grabbed Skye’s hand and pulled her to her feet. “Either you walk, or I will carry you, but we’re leaving.” “You’re not taking her.” “Who’s going to stop me? You?” Romjin held out his sword. “It would be my pleasure to spill your guts.” In the background, Jonah called, “Get her out of here. Reinforcements are coming. “But I apparently don’t have time.” Knowing it was a risk, but one he’d have to take, Romjin tossed Skye over his shoulder and ran through the crowd of battling soldiers. She kicked and screamed, hit his back, but he zig-zagged in and out between the soldiers, occasionally having to use his sword to move forward to safety. A quick glance over his shoulder revealed Luemeare surrounded by guards—the reinforcements no doubt. Luemeare pointed in their direction and a uniformed band took off toward them. Shit. His only hope was making it to one of the secret entrances to the tunnel system that ran beneath the city. 51

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Skye’s protests stopped. “Skye?” She didn’t answer and he assumed she’d passed out. Either from the stress of seeing her father killed or from fear for her own life. At least her slumber made it easier to maneuver than if she fought him. Romjin ran down a long hallway, slipped through a doorway and out into the streets of Cy-run. Several street vendors glanced his way, realized he carried Skye Faar, and called out for the guards. Shit. Romjin ducked into an alley and weaved through a maze of buildings until he came to what he searched for. A secret passage that ran to the temple. From the temple he’d be able to get Skye to the rebel base. He could hear the guards outside the building, searching for him, but having no idea of which building he’d entered or even if he’d entered one. He’d made sure of that. No way would he be the rebel who led Cy-run’s guards to the base. Romjin searched a wall for a lever that would open the entrance to the tunnel. There. He hit the lever, slipped inside, then closed the entrance. His eyes quickly grew accustomed to the darkness, but the air quality grew so dismal he labored to continue carrying Skye. Had he so soon grown used to the higher oxygen levels of Cy-run, particularly in Skye’s quarters, that being in the tunnels left him useless? Romjin shifted Skye, lowering her into his arms, and then onto the hard ground. “Skye?” He shook her, making sure no injuries marred her flesh, wishing he had light to see her face, but the closest supply checkpoint was no where near and it would be hours before they’d be able to send out a retrieval message.

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With his hands, he checked over her, examining her pulse, her breathing. When he assured himself she was okay, he pulled her close against him and held her tight while he acclimatized to the lower oxygen levels. He’d lived in the tunnels most of his life, damn this weakness. “Romjin?” Skye roused. “I’m here.” He kissed her temple. “I can hardly breathe.” “It’s the air. There’s little oxygen.” “But oxygen is pumped into the tunnels.” She sounded confused, a little panicked. He gave an ironic laugh. “Very little, Skye, and not into these tunnels. We’re not in a Cy-run tunnel.” The moment she remembered, her body tensed and a sob escaped her lips. “My father.” “Is dead.” Romjin ached to tell her otherwise. “No.” Sobs racked her body and she beat her fists against his chest. “No.” “I’m sorry, Skye. If I could change things I would.” “Would you?” She hit him again. “Would you really?” “You know I would.” “Do I?” She pulled back. “Do I know that? Because what I do know is that Geoffery is right. I did sense you were different. Not like other slaves.” She hiccupped between whimpers. “You’re not, are you?” “A slave? No.” Fresh sobs racked her chest. “Who are you?” “You know who I am,” he reminded gently, knowing there was no way in her current state for her to understand the events that led him to her. “I know nothing.” She hit him again. “You aren’t who I thought you were.”

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He clasped her hand, needing her to acknowledge the connection they shared. “I am exactly who you think I am.” She gave a half-hysterical laugh. “Who would that be? My protector and pleasure slave? Tell me, Romjin, if that’s even your name, where were you when my father stepped in front of me and took a death dart meant for me?” Guilt filled him. He’d been across the room, distracted by lustful memories. “If I could give my life for his, I would.” “Big words when you know they offer nothing.” Her fist pummeled his chest again and he didn’t stop her, just let her hit him, hoping the blows would ease her pain, and if not, perhaps his conscience. When her hits turned to more tears, Romjin stroked her hair, whispering words of comfort. “What shall I do without my father?” Not knowing how to answer, Romjin poured his heart into a kiss. A kiss he wished would rob her pain and let him bear it in her stead. Her fingers treaded into his hair, tangling, tugging on the strands, and desperately returning his caress. Fires lit within him. Fires he had no business feeling during her time of grief, but his lust for her knew no boundaries and his cock throbbed. Whether blinded by need to feel close to another human after witnessing her father’s death or by physical need, Skye’s hands and mouth ravaged, tearing kisses from him, demanding passion. Romjin gave, allowing her to push his clothing aside and grasp his cock. Wildly she stroked, churning his need into a raging flame. No longer capable of thought other than sinking inside her, he jerked her gown up and pushed her onto her back. Tugging her panties aside, he slid deep into her wet folds and groaned at the sensations assaulting him.

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Her pussy dripped with honey, lubricating his thrusts, massaging his cock. “Fuck me, Romjin. Fuck me hard.” Did she think he needed encouragement? After watching her crouch over her father, unable to help her, fearful for her life, Romjin needed to assure himself of the life blood flowing through her veins. To feel her breath against his skin, to hear her moans as he pummeled into her, to fill his lungs with her unique perfume. Over and over, he pistoned into her. Sweat drenched through his shirt, through her gown. No kissing or worshipful touches. Just hard, needful fucking. His balls tightened and felt as if they would turn inside out. “Skye,” he cried out her name, emptying his seed into her with a thrust so powerful he thought their bodies might permanently meld together. Spent, shaking with emotion, Skye slapped him. “I hate you.” Her blow and words caught him off-guard. He rolled from her and restored his pants. His hands trembled. Never before had he taken a woman so roughly, so selfishly and without thought to her pleasure. He deserved her slap, her hatred. “Who are you?” He adjusted the sword she’d given him. A gift thats beauty only paled in comparison to the gift of her body. “Romjin Padjir,” he answered. “A traitor?” “A revolutioner.” “Cy-run needs no revolution.” “Cy-run cries for revolution and freedom for its people.” “Freedom? You speak of freedom? Cy-run gives life to its people.” “Life? Depending upon your family for survival? You call that life?”

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“Cy-run offers all the chance to live. To earn their freedom.” Was she so naïve? “Does it? Are you so sure of that?” His tone must have sounded convincing, because she paused. “Are you saying it doesn’t?” “The tunnels are full of slaves who have been born as slaves and served their entire lives.” “That isn’t possible. There’s a twenty year maximum service before freedom must be granted.” “Really? Tell that to those who are buried within the tunnel walls who served all their days.” “It isn’t possible.” “Tell me, Skye. Is it possible that another underground city exists?”

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Chapter Five Had someone told Skye that she’d find herself captive within a foreign city she’d have laughed. The joke would have been on her. Hope existed. Literally. In the form of a city located approximately thirty miles from Cy-run. Streets glowed with dimly lit posts. Living quarters for many existed of tent-like shelters on the streets themselves. Children, dirty and small, huddled near one another and whispered childish tales. Although he hadn’t said so, she didn’t need Romjin to spell it out. He’d kidnapped her, taken her to the rebellion base, and would probably demand payment for her life. From Geoffery since they’d killed her father. All this time she’d assumed Geoffery would be the one from whom she’d have to watch her back. Her own protector and pleasure slave betrayed her. Why hadn’t she questioned how little he resembled the usual protector and pleasure slaves? But she didn’t have to ask why. Not really. She hadn’t questioned, because the moment her eyes lit on him she’d filled with longing. Sexual hunger to know the caress of his hands against her skin. Foolish. She was heiress of Cy-run. Not some silly girl who could so easily be lead around by fleshly desires. Yet she had been. 57

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It had cost her father his life. Grief struck her, leaving her weak and with the need to weep, but she refused to do so. Not while traveling through this curious-eyed city. Not again while Romjin could witness those tears and laugh that he’d been the cause. He probably laughed regardless. Even in her grief she’d desired his touch, needed the strength being with him gave. He’d played her for a fool and she’d let him. No more. She lagged behind. “Do you want me to carry you?” With disgust, she glared. “Don’t touch me.” His lips tightened, but he didn’t toss out the reminder she’d begged for his touch not so many hours before. He could easily have done so. It surprised her he didn’t. Perhaps he didn’t think her worth the effort of speaking in this impossibly thin air. When they came to a rough appearing building, Romjin pushed her inside. Once inside, the light faded even more, leaving Skye’s eyes almost useless. She stumbled, banging her knee against the stone floor. Wordlessly, Romjin lifted her into his arms. “I said don’t touch me.” She squirmed, trying to free herself. “Let me go.” “Never.” Never. Did he intend to keep her here? To let Cy-run think her dead along with her father? Who would lead the High Council? Geoffery? Councilman Reeves? He entered a mostly bare room and tossed her onto a hard mattress. “Welcome home.” Home? This was where he lived? She glanced around the dingy room. She didn’t need light to see the contrast to her living quarters. As different as light and darkness. As different as she and Romjin were. 58


In that moment she hated him. Hated what he stood for. Hated that he used her. That even in her hatred her traitorous body sang from where he’d held her. Perhaps she hated that the most. “What are you going to do with me?” “Make you my pleasure slave.” Skye’s eyes widened and she gawked at him. His eyes watched her and his expression gave nothing away. “I’d rather see you dead than pleasure you.” His jaw flexed and he looked away. “Perhaps you’ll get your wish.” Her heart clenched at the image his words provoked. Even with everything that had happened she couldn’t bear the thought of a world without him in it. Fool. She hugged her knees to her and fought tears. Fatigue racked her body and she longed to sleep. To sleep and wake to find this all a horrible dream. Only she knew it wasn’t. Knew that she’d never see her father’s smile ever again. Would possibly never step foot inside Cy-run. She was a prisoner. A slave to Romjin Padjir’s whims. Oh how the tides had turned.

Romjin kicked a dirty rug off a hidden compartment in his floor. Once he cleaned the lid, he lifted it and removed two bottled waters. Skye tracked him with her gaze. She had to be dying of thirst, but she didn’t speak. Damn her pride, she’d rather die from dehydration than ask him for a drink. “Here.” He tossed one of the bottles onto the mattress. “Drink this.” Her gaze dropped to the bottle and her thirst shone on her face. “No.” He sighed. “Suit yourself, but you’re only hurting yourself.”

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Weary, he sank his sword into the floor with enough might she wouldn’t be able to remove it without waking him. “I suggest you sleep while you can. In a few hours we’ll meet with Jonah.” “Jonah?” “Sleep, Skye, you’re safe here. I’ll tell you what you want to know after we’ve rested.” He dropped back on the mattress and closed his eyes. Skye’s breathing told him she sat up, stared at his sword, and no doubt considered trying to run it through him. She hated him. She’d said so, and her eyes flashed with that hatred. Perhaps she should because he ought to have been there to protect her, to keep her safe. Possibly he could have saved her father. Now it was too late. Her father was dead and any feelings Skye had for him had gone too. What had she felt? She’d never spoken of love. Had never spoken of anything other than sex and what they shared physically. Then again, essentially she was promised to another man. A man of her own class rather than a rebeller. He’d been a fool, reading more into their relationship than what was really there. Skye saw him as her protector and pleasure slave and now she saw him as her captor. Physically, she wanted him in either role, but as her captor she would never forgive him. His breathing evened and he slept.

***** Romjin woke with a start and automatically knew something was wrong. Skye was gone.

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Shit. He should have tied her up. He’d just been too damn tired to consider that she might try to escape. It wasn’t like she could go anywhere. No where except the tunnels, which, for anyone as unexperienced as Skye, would serve as no more than a burial ground. Grabbing the sword that she must have given up on removing, Romjin took off. She couldn’t have been gone long as he suspected the closing of his door woke him. Once in the street, he paused to scan for her whereabouts. There. He ran in the direction she’d gone, rounding the corner he caught sight of her just as she ducked into a building. Shit. She’d gone into a bar. A prize like Skye Faar wearing a tattered white gown wouldn’t go unnoticed in a Hope bar. Hell, a woman like her wouldn’t go unnoticed anywhere. He entered the tavern and immediately spotted Skye sidled up to a miner twice Romjin’s size. Her eyes flashed defiance and she grabbed the man’s arm, an arm the size of Romjin’s thigh. Damn her, did she think that giant could prevent him from retrieving her? Without hesitation he strode to where they stood next to the bar. “I’ve come for my woman.” The giant laughed, basking in the glow of Skye’s attention. “It doesn’t appear she wants to be your woman.” “Be that as it may, she belongs to me.” “Not any more.” “Always.” Romjin motioned for Skye to move away from the miner. She rolled her eyes and smiled up at her new friend. “Perhaps you aren’t man enough to please her.” Romjin grinned. “I’m twice the man you are where it counts.” 61

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The giant’s gaze dropped to Romjin’s groin, providing the distraction he sought. He grabbed the miner’s head, brought his knee up and smashed it into his face. Flesh crunched against flesh. The miner swayed back, blood gushing from his broken nose. Pain ricochet from his knee, but he’d been ignoring pain his entire life. He wouldn’t go changing that now. The miner’s fist shot toward Romjin, but he blocked the blow and delivered one of his own. The giant didn’t budge. Shit. “We’ll see who has twice the cock,” the giant warned as he grabbed hold of Romjin’s shirt. The material ripped. Romjin’s foot came up and kicked the man’s head. He landed a hit to Romjin’s solar plexis that doubled him over. Just in time he jerked to avoid a skull crushing blow. He grabbed hold of the man’s neck and applied pressure until the giant sank to the floor. He turned to Skye only to find that she had once again disappeared. He didn’t see her anywhere in the crowded bar. A wiry wench with big tits and black hair pulled away from her face walked over and sat in the seat Skye vacated. From her build Romjin guessed her to be a miner, but she moved with the grace of a warrior. “I’d be interested in finding out how a cock twice the size of Manny’s feels.” Before having met Skye, Romjin would no doubt have been more than happy to oblige, but he had met her, loved her. Lost her. “The woman who was here, did you see where she went?” Her gaze narrowed, assessing him from head-to-toe and apparently trying to see through his pants to the goods beneath. “She left through the back door, but there’s nowhere for her to go except the B tunnel.” 62


The B tunnel. If Skye made it to the tunnel, she could sneak a ride back to Cy-run and she’d never allow him to get close to her again. If she lived that long. Romjin ran onto the street and spotted Skye headed toward the tunnel. A tram car pulled into the station, but none appeared on the verge of leaving. Still, he wasn’t taking any chances and within a minute wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her mid-stride. “Put me down.” She bucked against him, tearing and scratching at his flesh. “Why would I do that when I’ve just won you in a barroom cock fight?” Relief that he held her rushed through him. If she’d escaped no telling what harm could have befallen her in a world she knew nothing of. She kicked him in the shins and he admitted that perhaps Skye would be just fine no matter what situation she landed in. He twisted her to face him, pinning her arms beneath his to stop further attacks. “You could have saved a lot of trouble and just admitted that I’m twice the man that bastard could ever be.” “Ha,” she scoffed, her eyes flashing defiantly. “You’re nothing. No man at all.” She spat on the ground, called him names. Her breasts heaved, her cheeks flushed, and her heart raced. Never had he wanted to kiss her more. “It must be a burden to desperately want a man who’s nothing,” he teased, refusing to take her bait. She’d been hurt enough with her father’s death. He wouldn’t add to her pain. Even if he wanted to bend her over his knee and spank her for running away while he slept. “I don’t want you.” “Liar.” She scowled. “How dare you call me a liar? I could have you killed for less.” He chuckled at her haughtiness. “Take a look around, Skye. I can call you any damn thing I like. You’re in my world now and you have to play by my rules. Get over

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yourself and admit that, despite what you think you know about me, you want me. Badly.” “No.” She clamped her mouth closed and gave him a look of pure defiance. But he held her close, could feel the truth in the body flush with his, and he tired of her barbed digs. “Yes.” He covered her mouth with his and kissed her. Not stopping when she squirmed against him. Not stopping when her teeth cut into his lower lip, bringing forth the taste of his blood. Not stopping until she gave in and returned his kiss. Then he stopped, smiled an arrogant smile no slave ever smiled just so she’d have no doubt that he bowed to no one. Not in this world. “You want me.” “Damn you.” He chuckled. “I was damned long before our paths crossed.” She wiggled, trying to free herself from his arms. “You can’t control me with sex.” He shrugged. “I don’t want to.” “Then what?” Romjin caught sight of the men and women exiting the tram car. “Come.” He clasped her elbow. “There is someone you must meet. And try to remember your manners.”

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Chapter Six Damn him for catching her. Damn him for knowing her weakness—him. It had taken all her strength to run while he fought the monster of a man she’d latched on to in hopes of scaring Romjin away. She should have known better. Size mattered, but not so much as wits and skill. Cock size indeed. The man was incorrigible. She wanted him in spite of it. Twisting to see who he looked at, she couldn’t believe her eyes. “Rajah? Is that you?” They’d captured the High Priestess. Wasn’t that like a ticket straight to hell? Romjin let her go and Skye ran to the priestess, enveloping the older woman in a hug. “Good heavens, child, what has befallen you since Romjin saved you?” Saved her? Stunned, Skye looked down. Dirt marred her skin, her dress. No doubt her backside was even worse thanks to their tunnel escapade. She stepped away from Rajah, not wanting to soil the priestess’s pristine clothing. It didn’t appear they’d treated her too poorly. “He kidnapped me.” “Kidnapped you?” Rajah’s sharp gaze cut to where Romjin joined them. “I was at the High Council. Romjin saved your life.” “Is that what he told you?” Skye huffed. Had they tricked Rajah into coming here? “He deceived you, Rajah. He’s no protector and pleasure slave. He’s an imposter.” Rajah considered Romjin, who just stood quietly. “Did he not provide you with pleasure?” 65

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Skye couldn’t contain her blush. “Do you not stand before me, alive and in one piece despite the attack at the High Council?” “Yes, but—” “But nothing. You asked for a protector and pleasure slave loyal to you. I gave you one. Romjin has proven himself brave and true.” Skye’s gaze cut to the man standing next to her. What Rajah said hit home. “But my father…” “Is alive and heavily guarded at Cy-run Memorial.” Skye’s heart missed a beat. “He’s alive?” Rajah nodded, then turned to the Cy-run guards escorting her. Cy-run guards? What were Cy-run guards doing in Hope? Why would they capture Rajah? One of the guards clasped Romjin’s hand and pulled him forward in an embrace. “It’s good to see you, brother.” Brother? Romjin had a brother who was a Cy-run guard? A Cy-run guard who betrayed the High Council. Betrayal must run in the family. Twenty or so guards stood around them, removing their helmets and gear. Others joined them, bringing water bottles, and greeting them. Two women kissed Rajah’s cheeks. Did captors greet prisoners so? What was going on? “Let’s go,” the man who embraced Romjin said. His brother. She could see the likeness, the same blue eyes, the muscular build, the dark features. Romjin placed his hand on her back and pushed her forward, but Skye dug her feet in. “We need to talk.” “Now isn’t the time or the place.” He grabbed her elbow, forcing her beside him.

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Biting her tongue, she took in the people around her. Rajah shuffled along beside the men, chatting with them as if they were long lost friends. The fake Cy-run guards were a mix of fatigue and exuberance. Joyous that their revolution had begun. Tired from the events of the past twenty-four hours. How long had they infiltrated Cy-run’s guards? All her life she’d trusted in Rajah’s wisdom. Had the older lady developed dementia? Lost her mind and joined allegiance with a group of rebellers? It was the only thing that made sense. Unless Rajah saw the rebellers as the good guys. But how could that be? Rajah helped form the High Council. The original High Council her grandfather and Geoffery’s father sat on. “You’re too quiet.” “You’re too rough,” she threw back. His hold on her arm immediately gentled, although truth be told his grip wasn’t hurting her. “Besides, you said now wasn’t the time to talk.” Romjin glanced ahead at the group of rebellers. “It’s unlikely we’ll have any privacy now that Jonah has returned. I meant to tell you everything after you rested.” But she hadn’t been there when he awakened. “Everything?” “The High Council plans to cut off all air supply to the tunnels.” “Why would they do that?” Thousands of slaves lived in the tunnels. “They fear an uprising.” Skye gave a pointed look to the group ahead of them. “Apparently with just cause.” “Air and water meant for the tunnels has been diverted for years. We haven’t traced it to a particular council member yet, but we suspect your fiancé to be behind it.” “But why would Geoffery do that?”

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“Good question. Unless he’s stockpiling the stuff to cut his dependence on Faar Air and Water.” “That doesn’t make sense. When we marry, Geoffery would control Faar Air and Water.” “Perhaps he knew the wedding would never take place.” “That was your job, wasn’t it? To make sure I didn’t marry Geoffery?” Even if he’d had to kill her to keep it from happening. “I have many jobs. The main one is to protect you.” “Protect me?” She gave a sarcastic laugh. “And pleasure me?” “Among other things.” Would he have done it? Taken her life if his cause asked it of him? “You bastard.” Romjin twisted her to face him, his voice low, “I’ve had enough of you sullying my mother.” She lifted her chin. “You’re right. You’re the one who’s the ass. She shouldn’t be punished for your crimes.” “My crimes? What crime have I committed against you, Skye?” Making me think you cared for me when it was all a ruse. “You told me my father was dead.” “My eyes saw what your eyes did.” “Will your brother go after him and finish what he started?” “My brother didn’t attempt to kill your father. If he had, your father would have no need of Cy-run Memorial.” There was no doubting Romjin’s meaning. “Then…who?” “Good question. Perhaps the High Council member who’s been stealing from the tunnel dwellers.”

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“Then my father is still in danger. I must go to him.” “Your father took a blow meant for you. It’s your life that’s in danger. Which is why you shouldn’t have run away.” He sighed in a way a parent might to an unruly child. “Even I find it hard to protect you when I don’t know where you are.” “I-I’m not sure what to think,” she admitted. Romjin let go of her arm and brushed his hand beneath her chin. “Then don’t think with your mind. Listen to your heart.” “My heart?” “It belongs to me, does it not?” She opened her mouth to deny his ludicrous statement, but stopped. Her eyes lifted to his and she lost herself in the intense blue. “Romjin? Is there a problem?” his brother called from far ahead. Romjin flashed his teeth in a wickedly knowing smile, locked his fingers with Skye’s, then replied, “No problem.”

***** Skye sat around the heating system, listening to Romjin, Jonah, and the others discuss the events that’d happened after she and Romjin left the High Council. Geoffery had the guards protect her father and never left his side. He’d issued an exorbitant reward for her safe return. “Either the man is for real or he’s putting on a damn good show,” Jonah said. He’d changed out of his armor and now wore form-fitting pants and a black t-shirt, making his resemblance to Romjin even stronger. “I should have killed him when I had the chance,” Romjin ground out. He paced back and forth like a caged tiger. His muscles bulged beneath the dark shirt he’d changed into after they’d arrived back at the building where he lived. Black pants encased his lean hips and thighs. A laser gun rested at his waist.

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“You did what needed to be done.” Rajah breathed in a long inhalation from the incense she burned in a glass tube with a round end. She closed her eyes. Her wrinkled face relaxed and she looked at peace. “I got Skye out.” Romjin walked over to stand beside Skye, but didn’t meet her eyes. “As long as she lives, it will be difficult for anyone to take control of Faar Air and Water should Garic Faar die.” Skye swallowed the knot that formed in her throat. Should her father die. They had to get him to safety. A burly looking man with several days of facial hair and a neck resembling a barrel pointed at her. “Should she be here? She’s one of them.” “Skye Faar is to be treated with the respect she deserves. Anyone who does otherwise will answer to me,” Romjin challenged. He looked ready to pounce. Eager even. “She should die now,” another said. “Before she attempts to escape and lead Cyrun guards to Hope.” “If you think you’re man enough to kill her, go ahead and try.” Romjin crossed his arms and waited. Skye looked back and forth between the men, Rajah—whose eyes remained closed—and Romjin. He appeared ready to take on the entire room should they make a single move in her direction. That’s when it hit her. He’d do exactly that if any of them tried to harm a single hair on her head. “Skye is innocent of the High Council’s wrongs and will not be punished for the sins of others. She has great plans for Cy-run.” Skye fought against squirming. So like Romjin, Jonah watched her with guarded eyes, but he said nothing, allowing his brother the full attention of those gathered.

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“She has food to feed our people,” Romjin continued, causing all the men to stare at her. “Food? Even if she marries the asshole, Luemeare will never feed our people. Not when we can’t pay him. If Cy-run guards discover us, they’ll destroy us.” “Skye is not marrying Geoffery Luemeare.” Skye’s gaze cut to Romjin’s wide stance. His tone brooked no argument, but if Geoffery hadn’t been behind the attempt on her life, then perhaps their marriage really was the best thing for Cy-run’s future. But she wanted other things for her future. Romjin. “Skye has her own food tunnels.” Romjin sounded proud. “Ones the High Council is unaware of, isn’t that right, Skye?” She stared at him, not quite believing how he defended her to his kinsmen. “Yes, but they won’t be ready for the first harvest for a few more weeks. After that, the rotation process should allow for a constant food supply.” “One more month of starvation,” Raul Carnes, a stocky muscle-bound, bald man mused, while he broke off a piece of bread and allayed his current hunger. “How do we know we can trust her?” “What if the tunnels are a trick to ambush us?” “She’s one of them. Any food she gave us would be poison.” Romjin shook his head. “She told me about the tunnels days ago. Long before the attack at High Council.” “I still say we should slit her throat and be done with it. Why take chances?” Romjin took a step toward the burly man. “Touch her, Blaine, and it’ll be your throat slit.” “You’re just thinking with your dick, dude,” another warned. “Get a grip on it. She’s one of them.” “He’s right,” Jonah interrupted, entering the discussion for the first time. 71

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The men in the room fell silent. His face flushed, Romjin turned to his brother. Blue eyes bore into blue eyes. “You’d have me kill her?” “In a heartbeat.” Jonah crossed his arms in a pose so similar to Romjin that Skye’s heart leapt. Or perhaps it leapt at the topic of conversation—killing her. They faced off, brother against brother, neither expression giving an inch. “Do it,” Jonah ordered. Fear sluicing through her, Skye’s breath caught. Romjin’s brother wanted her dead. Without saying a word, Romjin stepped in front of Skye, his gaze meeting hers. Had she read him wrong? Or was his loyalty to his brother so strong he’d defend her against all but his own flesh and blood? No matter how much she wanted to, she couldn’t read his thoughts and fear assailed her. She held his gaze, wondering if at any moment he’d shoot her with the laser gun. The thump of her heart drowned out all else as she waited for Romjin to end her life. His jaw tightened, he pulled his gun, and Skye braced herself for what would surely follow. The ache in her heart that Romjin would hurt her greater than any physical blow he could deliver. She fought flinching as he moved, but what he did caused her heart to do much more than flinch. It swelled with love. Romjin turned and pointed the gun at his brother. He truly cared for her and was willing to defend her. Even against his family. “Fool,” Jonah accused, his eyes bleak, before he closed them in disgust. “You would risk our life’s work for a piece of ass?” “I would save our life’s work by saving Skye.”

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Rajah clapped her hands, causing all to turn. She hadn’t budged from where she sat, smoking her incense, eyes closed, yet she commanded everyone’s attention with a single clap. “We’ve waited many years before making our stand.” She opened her eyes. “Skye’s death would achieve nothing.” She looked at Jonah. “Romjin’s loyalty is not in question. Nor is Skye’s. She will do what is right by the people of Cy-run, just as she always has.” “What about the people of Hope?” Raul asked, rising to stand beside Jonah in a show of where his loyalties lay. “Will she do what is right by us?” “And the tunnel dwellers? What of them?” another asked. “I told you we should have let the bitch die,” Blaine mumbled, causing Romjin to growl. Enough. She wouldn’t have Romjin battling his brother over her, nor having his own turn against him. “Rajah’s right,” she said, facing the onslaught of abuse. “I will do what I can for Cyrun and Hope.” “Which is?” Jonah asked, his expression tight and his eyes flashing with anger. “Whatever I can do to help your people and the tunnel dwellers.” Skye sucked air in and determined to be brave, to be a Faar, and a woman worthy of a man like Romjin. She wouldn’t cringe behind him, but would stand tall beside him. “I can provide food, air, water. Supplies you’ll need for your people to find any level of success.” Romjin moved closer and held out his hand. To others it might have seemed as if he simply offered to help her stand, beside him, but Skye saw it for what it was. Romjin asked her to join him. To join his cause. To join him and be his. Her eyes misted and without hesitation she slipped her hand into his rough one. He was right. She belonged to him. Romjin smiled as if he weren’t in a face off with his brother and kinsmen. He smiled with warmth and love. Love.

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Skye squeezed his hand and he nodded, understanding her silent message. “Then so be it,” Rajah said, motioning for the two women who’d kissed her cheeks and hadn’t left her side. “Now sit and be merry for the time of sorrow will be upon us before we know it.” “Time of sorrow?” Blaine asked, glancing back and forth between Jonah and Romjin, as if he still thought they should kill Skye. “War,” Rajah clarified, allowing the two women to assist her to stand. She stood, leaning on her walking stick. “War between Cy-run and Hope.”

***** Romjin watched Skye with pure lust. Lust so strong it threatened to override his senses and demand he rip her clothes from her and fuck her. He wanted her with a hunger a starved man couldn’t rival. A hunger so great it consumed him. Skye belonged to him. Loved him. Head held high and clasping his hand, she met Jonah’s harsh gaze. “I will take you to the tunnels, give you food, and seeds you need to start your own.” Jonah’s jaw flexed, then he nodded. “Come, sit by me, and we will discuss the future.” Romjin listened while his brother and Skye spoke. Within minutes Skye looked at Jonah with admiration. No wonder. His brother was a good man. A natural born leader. Romjin had no desire to lead. Never had. His place was at his brother’s side, watching his back. His brother was a harder sale and, although Skye’s sincerity shone through, Jonah held back. Held back for the same damn reason he’d said for Romjin to kill her. Because he saw through Romjin’s feelings, saw that he cared too much, and for that reason, Jonah felt Skye should die.

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Romjin understood how his brother could think his love for Skye might interfere with the cause, might influence his judgment, but Jonah was wrong. What he shared with Skye Faar made fighting for freedom all the more vital. Rajah reentered the room, the two handmaidens at her side. “I must return to Cy-run and make my voice heard on the High Council,” she said, drawing Romjin aside for a private conversation. “Jonah will take me. Skye will go with us.” Skye return to Cy-run? Hell no. “It isn’t safe.” “She can do more in Cy-run than by hiding here.” Romjin knew what Rajah said was true, but damn it, she couldn’t go back. Not when someone wanted her dead and he didn’t know who. “The choice is not yours to make.” “Then I’ll go with her.” Rajah’s lips twisted. “You have lost your objectivity.” “I never had objectivity, and you know it. That’s why you chose me, wasn’t it? Because you knew I’d never let Jonah or any other harm Skye? You knew she’d be sympathetic to our cause and vital if we’re to break this tyranny started half a century ago in the name of survival.” Rajah’s pupils dilated, her lips pursed. “You forget your place.” “I know my place. Beside Skye. I will do my job.” “As her protector and pleasure slave?” “Yes.” “And your duties to your brother?” “He has my loyalties.” Rajah nodded, accepting his answer and taking his hand. “Then so be it and let come what may.”

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“Rajah?” Skye stepped up to where they spoke. “Is everything okay? You look upset.” “Nothing child. ‘Tis nothing, but these old bones crying for home.” Skye’s eyes became big violet orbs. “You’re returning to Cy-run?” “Yes, before the next sleep cycle.” “I’m returning with you, aren’t I?” Rajah nodded. Skye’s gaze cut to Romjin. “You’ll be with me?” Did she doubt it? “Always.” “Then I am ready.” Rajah leaned against her walking stick. “I will send for you when it is time.” They watched the two women trail behind Rajah. Both trained to take her place someday. Only one would. “Time is short. Let’s go to my room.” Skye’s brow lifted. “Can we?” He nodded and took her hand. “I dare anyone to disturb us before I have my fill of you.” “Romjin,” she said as they ran up the stairs. “I can’t wait for you to have your fill of me.” Him, either, but he wouldn’t risk someone coming upon them, seeing Skye writhe to his touch, so he’d wait long enough to get them to privacy. He unlocked his room, pushed her inside, and slammed the door. “If you want to wear those clothes again, undress. Now.” Her eyes lit with the knowledge he’d rip them from her if she didn’t hurry. Wanton that she was, she tarried, slowly pulling off her shirt. “I’m not particularly fond of them, you know.”

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“I know, but I doubted you’d want to put your gown back on if we ruin these.” “Good point.” She shucked her pants off. “I’m undressed.” Did she think he hadn’t noticed her milky nakedness? Her breasts jutted toward him, their rosy peaks tempting his tongue. Her flat belly veed between her legs, shadowed by golden curls. In the plainness of his home, Skye stood out like a diamond in a dirt bed. Her radiance sparkled and no amount of soil could dim her brilliance. He licked her nipples, the round globes of her breasts. Skye’s fingers laced through his hair, massaging his head, holding him to her breast. “That feels so good.” “It’s supposed to.” Hands touched. Mouths tasted. Bodies ground against one another. Skye grabbed his ass and cupped each buttock in her palms, molding, caressing, pulling him tighter against her pubis. “You have too many clothes on,” she breathed. Romjin stepped back, allowed her to undress him. Exploring his body as she went, Skye removed his shirt, his pants, left him naked beneath her violet gaze. She fell to her knees, causing him to lean forward to grab her, but she stayed him. “No. Let me.” Realizing what she intended, Romjin let her. Let her hot lips circle his cock and suck what would fit of him into her mouth. Oh sweet heavens. His eyes rolled back in his head as every drop of his blood rushed to the body part inside Skye. His hips tilted, pushing his cock deeper down her throat, knowing he’d likely make her gag, but unable to stop the instinctive reaction.

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Skye moaned and ran her tongue over his head, dipping into the indention at his tip. Her head bobbed back and forth as her mouth pumped, priming for when he’d slide inside her cunt. His legs quivered with weakness, his knees threatened to buckle from the sheer pleasure of her slick mouth gliding up and down in wet sucks. If possible he’d think his balls turned inside out at the sensations whipping through him. He throbbed. Ached. Longed to fuck her mouth. “I want inside you.” Laughter bubbled around his swollen cock. “You are inside me.” “Don’t talk with your mouth full.” She laughed again and swirled her tongue around his head, grazed her teeth over his sensitive flesh. She grabbed his balls and squeezed. Not hard enough to make him wince, but enough to make every nerve ending in his body refocus to the pressure of her hands. “Careful.” Laving her tongue over him, she massaged his scrotum. Gentle tugs, milking his orgasm forward. Romjin’s fingers tensed, holding her to him. “Skye.” Her name ground from his mouth. A tortured cry of pleasure and need. She took him as deep into her throat as she could manage and finished him off. His palm kept her head pressed to him, but apparently she had no plans to spill a precious drop of his cum, anyway. Romjin’s knees buckled and he sank beside her. “God, you’re amazing.” Skye smiled. “With you, I feel amazing. Useful. Like I can accomplish all things.” “You can.”

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She kissed his cheek, then together they curled on the lumpy mattress. “I love you, Romjin Padjir.”

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Chapter Seven Skye couldn’t believe she breathed Cy-run air, nor that Romjin and his brother stood at her side in protector and pleasure slave garb. Jonah understood what she had to do. She wasn’t so sure Romjin did. “Luemeare will arrive at o-nine-hundred,” Jonah informed as they walked into the hospital. “Does he know I’ll be here?” “No.” Jonah scanned the hallways. “I thought it best to gauge his reaction to seeing you alive.” “Damn it, would you quite acting as if I’m not here?” Romjin seethed, not liking being ignored. Jonah and he had argued fiercely over Jonah’s plan prior to leaving Hope, but in the end Skye agreed to Jonah’s suggestions. Returning, facing Geoffery and discovering the truth was the only way. “You could have stayed in the food tunnels. Overseen them. You knew the score when you opted to return to Cy-run,” Jonah reminded him. “I’m Skye’s protector and pleasure slave.” “Haven’t you heard?” Jonah quipped, purposely antagonizing his brother. “So am I.” Romjin growled. Enough was enough. “Would you both stop it? I’m about to see my father. My life may be in danger. I don’t need to worry about the two of you.” Jonah’s head bowed. “Yes, my lady.” Romjin rolled his eyes. “Smart ass. Stay alert,” he warned, brushing his hand over Skye’s arm in a soothing gesture. 80


Passing by the guards with minimal fuss, although they detained Romjin and Jonah, Skye ran to her father’s bed and hugged him. “Skye, my darling, I couldn’t believe it when Geoffery said you’d be here.” “Geoffery knew I was coming?” Hadn’t Romjin and Jonah just said they hadn’t told Geoffery of her presence? Although pale and a shadow of his former self, her father kissed her cheek. “Yes, he’s my solace since your disappearance. Such a good man.” That was yet to be determined. “Father, do you know who did this?” “Geoffery suspects Councilman Reeves.” “Councilman Reeves?” Skye digested that information. “Why the councilman?” Her father shrugged. “Councilman Reeves has never kept quiet that he thinks our philanthropic ways are a waste. He wants the council to cut off supplies to the tunnels.” Then it was true. “We depend on the miners for new resources and for expansion” she reminded. “Without them we’ll become stagnant and perish.” “True.” “You agree with Geoffery, then? You think Councilman Reeves is behind the attack at the High Council?” “I know of no other with any motive, but it’s hard for me to picture Reeves going to the extreme of murder.” “What about Geoffery?” “Yes, Skye, what about me?” Geoffery asked from where he leaned against the far wall, causing Skye to spin to face him. Had he listened to their entire conversation? And why hadn’t her father indicated that Geoffery was in the room? “Do you have a motive to wish me dead?”

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He pushed off the wall and advanced toward her. “Me? What possible reason would I have for wishing my bride-to-be dead?” “You tell me.” “I have everything to gain by you living.” She’d said the same thing herself and yet fear raced up her spine. Why hadn’t Romjin and Jonah gotten past the guards yet? “Skye, you make it sound as if you think Geoffery had something to do with your attack.” Her father gave a laugh at the absurdity of it. “Do you forget that Faars and Luemeares have been the best of friends for over half a century?” “I haven’t forgotten.” She watched Geoffery closely. He walked straight to her and bent. Skye’s hand slipped inside her dress to the small laser gun Romjin had given her on the tram trip to Cy-run. Years ago, much to her father’s dismay, she’d trained in the use of guns, but had never fired one outside a training facility. That wouldn’t stop her. The first wrong move and she’d blast it into Geoffery. He kissed her cheek. Noticing her apprehension, his forehead wrinkled. “What is this? You think me responsible for the treason at High Council? Blame your slave for that.” Not letting her guard down, Skye shook her head. “No. Like you said, you have everything to gain by our marriage, but why blame my slave?” “Come on, the man kidnapped you, demanded ransom, and returned you after it was paid. Are you so enamored that you couldn’t see the truth of what was going on?” “You paid ransom?” He named an amount of oxygen, water, and food that was staggering. Plus, she’d turned the food tunnels over to Jonah and Romjin. No. What was she thinking? Romjin hadn’t returned her for ransom. He loved her. She loved him. Trusted him.

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Was this what Romjin and Jonah argued over? Returning her? Had Romjin left her? He wouldn’t have done that. She wouldn’t believe it. “We should marry immediately. I’ve called for Rajah.” For Rajah? Skye looked up. “You mean get married right now?” “Yes. With threats to your life and these savages running loose in the city, there’s no time to lose.” “No.” She wouldn’t marry Geoffery. To do so would mean giving up Romjin. “No?” This from her father. “Geoffery’s right, Skye. Marrying will take the focus off of your life and put it on his.” “Why would that remove the threat? Whether his bride or not, I will take over your position on High Council.” “No.” Her father shook his head. “This has made me see the folly of appointing you as my successor. I won’t risk your life that way.” “What?” “Geoffery will take my place on High Council.” “No!” “It’s the only way, Skye. With my shares and his, he will control High Council.” “You bastard.” She faced Geoffery. “It’s been you all along.” “What are you talking about?” “You didn’t have to kill me to get what you wanted. You just had to influence father into believing my life in jeopardy.” “Skye, you are talking out of your head. Your trip outside of Cy-run has left you ill.” “Ill?” She trembled with rage. “You are the sick one. How dare you trick my father into naming you his successor?” Geoffery looked torn. “I only accepted to protect you.”

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Skye laughed. “Do you expect me to believe that?” “Yes, because it’s the truth.” The hospital door opened and Skye spun, expecting to see Romjin filling the doorway. Wanting to see that. Instead, Councilman Reeves entered. “What are you doing here?” Geoffery demanded. “Can’t a man visit an old friend who’s not feeling well?” The pudgy councilman crossed the room with the authority of one who had every right to be there. He glanced at Skye. “Good to see you.” He paused, grinned an evil smile. “Alive, that is.” Geoffery stepped forward. “You should leave.” “And miss the family reunion? I think not.” “Guards!” Skye called, mainly so Romjin and Jonah would know Councilman Reeves wasn’t a welcomed guest. Two guards entered the room. Romjin and Jonah didn’t. Where were they? Councilman Reeves laughed. “What? You’re going to have me arrested? What for?” “Threatening the daughter of Garic Faar.” “Have I ever threatened you?” Skye thought back. No, he hadn’t. He’d always creeped her out, but he hadn’t really ever threatened. So why had she immediately leapt to the conclusion that he wanted to hurt her? Geoffery. She glanced back and forth at the two men bristling at each other, trying to decide which one to believe. Her father seemed oblivious to it all. “Sit down, Reeves. Of course Skye isn’t going to have you arrested. Any member of the High Council is always welcomed by the Faars.” The two guards remained inside the room, flanking the doorway. Councilman Reeves sat by her father and Geoffery took advantage of the moment to pull her across the room to privacy. Not so far that they couldn’t both watch 84


Councilman Reeves and her father’s discussion, but enough that their whispered conversation wouldn’t be overheard. “You must see the imperativeness that we marry and put a stop to what Councilman Reeves has started.” “What has he started, Geoffery?” “Are you blind?” He ran his fingers through his blond hair, and for the first time, Skye noticed how tired Geoffery appeared. Dark circles marred beneath his eyes and fatigue wrapped itself around him like a wet blanket. “A bloody civil war. Cy-run is a torn city. Half supporting Councilman Reeves. The other half backing your father and me. If there’s a hint of dissension between us, Skye, the tides will shift and the miners will be massacred.” “Why would anyone follow him?” She gestured to Councilman Reeves. “He knows of the ransom I paid for your return. The whole damn city knows the tunnel dwellers led the attack against you and Reeves demands that they must be squashed before they attack again.” Geoffery really paid a ransom for her? Skye looked at the closed door. That might explain why Romjin and Jonah had yet to enter the room. They’d left her. Used her to get the supplies they needed and now they were gone. Her bones dissolved to jelly, but she refused to buckle. Refused to give in to heartbreak. “You’re telling the truth.” Geoffery grabbed her arms and gave her a gentle shake. “Quit being such a spoiled child, Skye. Cy-run needs you to stop this atrocity. If you and I present a united front, we can end this before it gets off the ground.” “A lover’s quarrel?” Councilman Reeves asked from her father’s bedside. “Only over what we shall name our firstborn,” Geoffery quipped. Their firstborn.

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Her hand covered her belly. Romjin. He’d deserted her. Geoffery told the truth. If they didn’t marry thousands would die. Hope might be discovered and all would be lost. Part of her failed to believe Romjin willingly went along with her ransom and that perhaps that was why he and Jonah quarreled, but she had no way of knowing. She did know she could never allow Councilman Reeves to use her to destroy so many. The door opened and longing sprung forth from Skye’s gut. Romjin? “Rajah.” The older woman entered the room, entourage in tow. Skye recognized Sahib, but not the other priestesses and pleasure slaves, several of which wore traditional head gear. Councilman Reeves looked back and forth between Rajah, the guards, and where Skye and Geoffery stood. “Am I missing something here?” “You can be the first to congratulate Geoffery and Skye,” Garic said. “They’re to be married.” “Now?” Councilman Reeves tugged at his collar. Geoffery stepped forward, pulling Skye with him. “There’s no time like the present. You can witness our ceremony. Let the world know Skye and I will lead Cy-run into a brighter future.” Councilman Reeves glanced at the guards again. Not with fear, but with demand. “There will be no wedding.” Skye agreed, but she wouldn’t let Councilman Reeves make that call. “You have no say in the matter and if you plan to make a scene at my wedding, I’d prefer you to leave.” One of Rajah’s pleasure slaves moved forward, then stopped.

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“Skye, there’s no call to be rude to Councilman Reeves,” her father scolded. Skye stared at him, wondering what was wrong. Couldn’t he see the deviousness dripping from every pore of the councilman’s body? Geoffery and she exchanged looks, one that told her Geoffery knew much more than she. What was going on? Now wasn’t the time to demand answers. They had to get rid of Reeves, then they could talk. “Guards,” Skye said, deciding to take charge of the situation. She was Skye Faar. Her father’s daughter, granddaughter of the great Garrison Faar. “Please escort Councilman Reeves out of the hospital.” Not questioning that her orders would be followed, Skye turned her back to them and faced Geoffery. “We should talk,” she said in a low voice meant only for his ears. Knocking her off balance, Geoffery jerked her to him. He shoved her behind him. Unsure of what was going on, Skye scanned the room. Reeves smirked and held a gun to her father’s head. A soft cry escaped. “Father.” Geoffery pulled a gun and aimed it at Councilman Reeves. Rajah and her entourage stood, watching the proceedings with great interest, but no evidence of fear. That’s when Skye noticed the eye color of the two guards in headdress. “Guards,” Geoffery ordered. “Arrest Councilman Reeves.” “Arrest me?” The overweight man gave a mock shake of his head. “Are we back to that?” He glanced at the guards. “Well? What are you waiting for? Arrest me.” “No, he’ll shoot father.” Garic looked stricken, unable to believe what was happening in his hospital room, but too weak to do anything about it.

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The guards ignored Skye’s plea and crossed the room to where Councilman Reeves stood, but instead of making any attempt to arrest him or retrieve his weapon, they turned, faced Geoffery and pointed their guns at him and Skye. The councilman laughed. “It would seem your guards don’t like your vision for the future, Luemeare.” What happened next occurred so fast Skye wasn’t clear on who moved first. Rajah collapsed to the floor, drawing all eyes to her. Her entourage rushed to attend to her. “Call for the doctor, quickly,” Sahib demanded of the guards. The guards stood, looking unsure of what they should do. Their guns remained pointed at Skye and Geoffery. Councilman Reeves’ gun remained on Garic, who looked increasingly pale. “Man, me mistress is dying. Get the doctor.” Sahib stooped over Rajah’s motionless body. “The heavens above shall open and swallow ye whole should you let the High Priestess die unattended.” Fear entered the guards’ eyes. They looked to Councilman Reeves for guidance. “Let the old bag die. That’ll be one less force on the High Council to be reckoned with.” Skye gasped. “You bastard. She’s the High Priestess. You can’t deny her medical care.” “Can’t I?” Councilman Reeves asked. “Watch me.” The guards appeared uneasy, but their guns remained pointed. Ignoring them, Skye rushed to Rajah’s side. She had little medical training and knew nothing other than the simple first aid basics one of her tutors insisted she learn. Rajah’s pulse beat strong, her breathing even. “Rajah? Can you hear me?”

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Councilman Reeves waved his gun at the guards. “What are you doing? You have your orders, do them.” Skye glanced up in time to see a gun whip out from beneath one of the flowing white robes Rajah’s entourage wore. A guard fell. The other fired and a priestess screamed before collapsing to the floor. Councilman Reeves grabbed his wrist, his gun fell to the floor, his hand still wrapped around the cold metal. “You bastards,” he accused, clutching at the stump of his arm. The laser gun had smoothly sealed the wound the moment it was made. “Kill them all,” he yelled at the standing guard. “Guards!” he yelled much louder. More guards rushed into the room. Skye covered Rajah, hoping to protect the priestess from the fighting. Strong hands wrapped around Skye, lifting her to her feet. She glanced up to stare into blue, blue eyes. “Romjin.” He didn’t acknowledge her except with a nod. “Get Rajah and go. Sahib will lead you to safety.” “My father, I can’t leave him.” He nodded. “Go. I’ll take care of your father.” Skye hesitated. Shouldn’t she stay? “Now, Skye. Trust me.” Trust him? He’d sold her for ransom, yet here he was, fighting to protect her. Because he was her protector and pleasure slave. No, because he loved her. With Sahib’s help, Skye gathered Rajah to her feet. The older woman’s eyes opened and she winked. “Rajah?” “No time for explanations, child. Listen to what your man says.” 89

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Her man. She liked the sound of that. Sahib, the other priestesses, and Skye made it to the door and shoved the entourage through it. That’s when she turned. Geoffery doubled over, then collapsed to the floor. Armed guards surrounded Romjin and Jonah. “Kill them,” Councilman Reeves ordered. “Kill them all.” “No!” All turned toward Skye as the cold metal of the laser gun burned into her flesh. She squeezed the trigger and a surprised look came over the councilman’s face. A perfect round hole appeared on his forehead, going straight through his skull and out the other side. He slumped over Garic’s hospital bed. Seizing the moment, Jonah and Romjin kicked the weapons free from the guards and took control of the room. More guards, nurses, and a doctor burst into the room, probably at Rajah’s request. Romjin held his gun readied at the new guards. “Where does your allegiance lie?” “To Cy-run,” the tallest answered, taking in the room full of dead guards, a dead councilmember, and another councilmember slumped over and holding his stomach. “Drop your weapon.” “If your allegiance lies with Cy-run,” Skye spoke up, still shaking from the realization she’d just killed a man. “Then you’ll thank these men for saving the life of your High Priestess and myself.” The guards looked back and forth. Clearly they were surprised to see her and confused as to what was happening. “Yes, my lady,” the tallest and apparently highest ranked said, bowing to her and lowering his weapon.

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“Arrest those men.” She waved her gun at the disarmed guards. “They shall be punished for treason.” The doctor ran to Geoffery, bent to examine him. “He’s alive, but shot in the abdomen. Ready the operating room. Now,” he called to one of the nurses. Skye’s hands shook. Jonah pulled what remained of Councilman Reeves off her father, who no longer remained conscious. “Doctor, before you go, check Councilman Faar.” The doctor immediately moved to her father’s bedside. Romjin kept his eye and gun on the guards, making sure nothing foul ensued. He didn’t look at her and the reality of everything that had happened hit Skye.

***** A week later, Skye sat before the High Council and, carrying a proxy vote for Geoffery, passed a motion to increase the amount of supplies given to the miners and tunnel dwellers. Jonah and Romjin attended the meeting, but as honored guests for their role in saving Skye and as representatives of the tunnel dwellers. No mention of the second underground city was made in any official proceeding and few learned of its existence. Stepping up to fill his father’s place on the High Council, Matthias Reeves opposed the motion, but Faar and Luemeare held control. Still, Skye wasn’t oblivious to the discontent within certain council members. The battle for control had only just begun. Following the meeting, Skye greeted Rajah, Sahib and others. She smiled at all the right times, greeted all the right people and answered their questions about her father’s improving health. Answered their questions about Geoffery’s improving health. Just as her father had, he’d wanted to attend the High Council meeting, but his doctor refused to let him. Soon, though, he’d be back at full strength and take his place beside Skye on the council. Not as husband and wife, but as two individuals who didn’t want Cy-run taken over by those who would abuse their people.

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Skye still suspected Geoffery put himself first and wasn’t as innocent as he’d come out appearing, but she also believed he loved Cy-run and wanted the city to thrive. Tired of the festivities, she motioned for her handmaidens and personal guards— something her father insisted she have with her at all times. “It’s much too early to leave,” Tia complained when Skye told of her wishes. “Then perhaps you wouldn’t mind staying awhile longer while Skye walks with me?” All eyes turned to the warrior who joined them. “Or maybe she could go home and I could walk with you.” “Tia!” Keena scolded, but Skye shook her head. “It’s okay. We’ll stay for a while longer while I talk with our guest.” Skye dismissed the guards and after insisting she was safe with Romjin, they let her leave with him. Silence loomed between them. Skye wasn’t sure what to say. After the incident in the hospital, Romjin acted strangely. When they traveled down a private passageway and were truly alone, she asked, “What is it you wish to discuss with me?” “This.” He pushed her against the wall and captured her mouth. Not a soft kiss, not one of questioning. He kissed her with purpose and longing. “And this.” He took her hand and placed it against his heart. Beneath her palm, his heart beat, strong, true, fast. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” she warned, trying to figure out what his motive was. Why had he stayed away a week? “Why?” “The High Council. Anyone could come along and find us. Because we’re both devoted to our people.” He trailed kisses over her throat. “Our causes aren’t so different.” 92


He pushed her gown aside and cupped her breast. Skye cursed her weakness. The leader of her people and she melted at a rebel warrior’s touch. “I won’t abandon Cy-run.” He took her nipple in her mouth. “I would never ask you to.” His hands caressed her body, roaming over her waist, her bottom. Skye held back, trying to keep her mind clear. Yet, her body quivered, begging for what she’d missed the past week. “Touch me, Skye,” he rasped, his cheek brushing against her breast. “I need your touch. Your love.” Skye’s knees liquefied and she grasped hold of Romjin’s shoulders to steady herself. “You used me,” she accused, closing her eyes to the pleasure whipping through her at the moist breath he blew against her straining nipples. “Yes.” He didn’t deny her accusation. “I did what needed doing.” “Me.” “Yes.” His teeth grazed her nipple. “You lied to me.” “How?” “You weren’t my protector and pleasure slave.” His head lifted and he cupped her face between his palms. Staring into her eyes, he kissed her softly. “Make no mistake. I am your sworn protector and pleasure slave. To that cause, I have pledged my life and I will be there when you need me.” Skye’s insides melted and her brain turned to mush. Why was she resisting him? Loving him was what she wanted. Needed. Pushing aside reason, she gave in to the force within her and kissed Romjin. She kissed his mouth, his face, his throat. Ran her hands over his chest, beneath his shirt, tracing over the man she’d so missed. She raked her nails down, going lower until she pressed against the straining flesh that had her squirming in her panties. 93

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Heat rushed through her body, warming places that’d been cold since she’d last been held by him. Need filled her. Need to be one with him. To have him deep inside her and perhaps she’d never let him go. “I didn’t bring you back here to fuck you.” But even as he said it he freed his hard shaft, teasing her with the sight of his magnificent flesh. “Have you forgotten? You’re in Cy-run. What I say goes. Fuck me, Romjin. Fuck me or I’ll have you beheaded.” She grabbed the head in question and gave a gentle pinch. Romjin shoved her gown up her thighs, bunching it at her hips. Not bothering to remove her panties, he pushed them aside. Poised at her entrance, he grasped her bottom and held her tight against him. “Such threats from such a sweet mouth.” He thrust inside her, stretching her, reminding her why she lay awake with her mind filled with thoughts of him. She wrapped her legs around his waist, welcoming him with all her body and her heart. “Do you feel threatened?” she asked. Her belly quivered, and she drew him deeper, wishing she could open up and devour him. Wrap him inside her body and never let him go.

Threatened? “Only my heart.” Romjin covered her mouth. With his hips and his tongue, he thrust. Skye moaned, shivered, met each caress with eagerness. His hands dug into her bottom as he pinned her between the wall and his pistoning body. His eyes locked with hers, Romjin drove into her to the hilt. Deeper and deeper, over and over. Driving them both toward orgasm. Then they came in a powerful mating that had both falling into each other. Skye ran her fingers down his arms and clasped his fingers. “You promised never to leave me.” 94


He’d known she’d call him on that one. He had left her. Cupping her face, he stared into her eyes and admitted the truth. That he worried her feelings weren’t real, but a product of the situation she’d been thrown in to. He had to give her time away from him. Probably a week wasn’t near enough, but he couldn’t bear being away from her longer. “I had to give you time to know if your feelings were real. For you to decide what you want.” He brushed his thumb across her cheek. “I’ll stay as long as you want me.” “Forever.” He pressed his fingertip to her lips. “If that’s what you wish.” “I wish for you.” In her eyes he saw everything. Everything he needed to know. She loved him. Forever. “I’ve been yours since from the moment I first saw you.” She looked pleased at his admission. “When Rajah presented you to me?” “Long before that,” he admitted. “I fell in love with you at your eighteenth birthday.” Her eyes widened. “My birthday?” “I was there, saw you turn eighteen.” She kissed his finger. “I want you by my side for all my years to come.” “The battle for Cy-run is just beginning. Reeves didn’t work alone. There will be others. They’ll try to drive a wedge between the Faars and Luemeares to divide the city. Marrying Luemeare might prove vital to keeping Cy-run united.” “Geoffery wants to marry me no more than I want to marry him. Our marriage would only lead to us both resenting the other and divide Cy-run even further.” “You’re sure?” “There is only one man I’ll pledge my love to and together he and I can win this war and provide a better world for the future.”

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Romjin searched her eyes. Beautiful eyes that shone with love. “You wish us to marry despite my not being on the High Council? I don’t require more than the honor of being your protector and pleasure slave.” “I require more.” Skye’s eyes sparkled. “I require that you marry me and make me your protector and pleasure slave. I did save your life last week, after all.” Romjin couldn’t believe how damn lucky he was. Skye loved him, wanted him, wanted to spend all her days by his side, as his partner in life and love. No man had ever been more blessed. “Skye, my darling, you saved my life in more ways than I can count. I’d give you the world if I could.” She smiled, kissed him. “Who wants the world? I prefer my very own protector and pleasure slave. You.”

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About the Author Whether she’s sailing the Caribbean with Johnny Depp, dancing the night away with Brad Pitt, or stripping off Gerard Butler’s clothes with her teeth, award-winning author Jana Mercy lives life to the fullest. Okay, so in her over-active imagination Jana lives life to the fullest. In reality she’s a dreamer who never gave up on her life-long fantasy of writing romance. Dreams do come true, so keep reading romance and let your dreams soar.

The author welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

Tell Us What You Think We appreciate hearing reader opinions about our books. You can email us at [email protected].

Also by Jana Mercy Her Last Fling Strip or Treat

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