Page 12 of Stolen Slave

“I want to go home,” I whispered brokenly.

I wanted to be grateful that I was no longer in the bathhouse, but I wasn’t yet sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. And I hurt so much I wasn’t even sure if I cared anymore.

When it picked me up again and pressed me to its chest, I didn’t fight it. I had no resistance left in me.

It carried me down the hall again, this time without the echoing steps. My captor paused, and I heard another rasp of sound. Warmer air surrounded us. Then he bent forward, and I prayed it wasn’t to set me on another exam table.

Pillowy softness cushioned my butt and back. His arms slid out from under me. I cried harder.

“Please don’t,” I choked out.

I heard that rasp again, then nothing. It was impossible to hear over the sound of my own tears, so I forced myself to stop and listen. I didn't hear any other sound. Unsure if I was alone, I stayed where I was. Naked on an alien’s bed.

My stomach settled as the minutes slipped by and exhaustion tugged at me. I sniffled and let my fingers wander the bed. It was soft and smooth. Big too.

“Hello?” I called softly.

Nothing answered. I curled in a ball and shook.

It didn’t pay to run. I couldn’t see and had no idea where I was. I could guess, though. The air here was cool and dry and had a weird metallic taste to it. That, in addition to the turbulent shaking when I’d been strapped to the table, made me think we were on a spaceship.

Another shudder ran through me.

I wanted to freak out. Wailing. Screaming. Beating on walls. But I continued to focus on breathing, knowing that I needed to be smarter.

Whoever had me now hadn’t been overly upset by my fairly quiet sobs. Or my barfing. But patience only lasted so long with a captive that kept acting out. What happened to Mila was proof of that.

Rest. That was what I needed to do until it came back.

Gingerly, I sat up and felt around the bed for a blanket. I found something on a shelf above the bed and tugged it down to cover me. I closed my eyes and curled back into a ball.

The press of fingers against my bruised hip woke me. I rolled onto my back before my head cleared enough to remember why I shouldn’t have moved at all. When I did, I winced and waited for some form of reprimand.

Instead of a shock or a beating, the fingers returned to my hip. It was one of the many extra painful spots I possessed. If I could see, I had no doubt I’d find ugly bruises covering every inch of my skin. However, the fingers didn’t dig in to hurt me. Just the opposite. They moved with feather-light strokes, which was infinitely more terrifying.

My breathing hitched, and I tried to find a quiet corner of my mind to hide away from what was about to happen. But those fingers didn’t stray from my hip. Round and round they moved, leaving a cooling tingle in their wake.

When the pain in that spot eased, I almost sobbed with relief. Its fingers left me and returned to a new spot to repeat the process. My hip cooled further, and I understood what it was doing.

It was helping me.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

It growled in response and wiped the tears from my cheek before continuing to rub something into every spot that hurt. The pain faded away, and I sighed. I didn’t flinch when it soothed over my sore breasts or skimmed the hair between my legs. It was gentle, and I told myself that was all that mattered.

When it finished with the front, it nudged me until I rolled over. Another sigh escaped me when it gave my backside as much care as it had the front.

Warm and feeling safer than I had in a long time, I fell asleep.

CHAPTER SEVEN

KHORAHN

The pain lubrication was gone, but I couldn’t stop touching her as she slumbered. It didn’t matter that a thousand things were demanding my attention. She was my only focus at the moment. Her and my aching breeding shaft that begged for release.

She made that soft sound again, the one she’d made just before succumbing to sleep. I fleking loved that sound, which was why I was still touching her. That and my need to comfort her after everything she’d suffered.

I’d known purging the parasites wouldn’t be pleasant, but I hadn’t expected her violent reaction or collapse during her second decontamination. I’d never stripped from my gear so fast in my life. Touching her, even gently, had given her no comfort in the med bay.

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