Page 43 of Bonded By Savages

The plain brown servants clothes are crumpled on the bedside table. I consider them, then put them down, looking at the satchel on the ground. My heart pounds as I pick it up and open it, pulling out the black pleasure dress. I set it down on the bed, imagining how I’ll look in it.

Last night I took a long shower. The strangest thing happened. As I washed the Aurelians’ seed from me, I didn’t feel cleaner.

I just felt empty. It wasn’t the Bond. That link is not as overwhelming as the rumors said—I’m still me, no matter what men and women gossiping in bars say about losing yourself to your urges.

Deep down, I always wanted to be with a noble triad. And I imagined being linked to them, growing a family, strong, powerful sons who would have the best qualities of the Aurelian species. Boys who would grow up to protect women and save them from the poverty of Wild Space, the space stations where greedy men rule, the planets where the richest take everything from the poor.

I reach out in my mind, touching the dark waters of the Bond. Despite their strength, I have control over my mind. I learned that control under the thumb of the Toad Lord, at pain of death, and now that control will keep me,mewhile I fight with the urges of the Bond to find what I really want.

I slip the black pleasure dress on, letting it mold itself to my body. It’s quiet as the Bond, so gentle with its feathery touch, softer than any silk. It’s not much more than a slip, the sheer blackness like I’m covered in shadows and nothing else. My pale skin looks strangely beautiful against it.

As beautiful as black tattoos on marble flesh.

I run my hand over the silver collar. I slept with it. There’s a little clasp under it, but I don’t take it off. It’ll keep other Aurelians away from me. Especially those scum with brands on their foreheads.

And some part of me likes how it looks. The dress shimmers, tiny little strands massaging my body, melting away aches and pains I didn’t know I had. I get why animals keep returning to that tree to rub themselves against the sap of the trunk.

I look at myself, in a pleasure dress, a collar around my neck, and I hold my head up high. I grab a brush from the bedside table and run it through my tangled curls, the movements giving me a sense of control. Those two wouldn’t care if my hair was a tangled, sweaty mess after a long day’s work. In fact, they are so animalistic, they might prefer it, seeing me sweaty and slick.

Could I bear their sons?

The thought is intrusive, welling up in my mind, and the Bond flutters through me, rewarding me with a surge of happiness and pleasure. Part of me always wanted to have Aurelian children, and that part of me is being pushed up and enhanced. I’ve seen the holo-vids of Queen Jasmine when she was pregnant with an Aurelian babe. How her belly was swollen up, her breasts huge and laden with milk to prepare for her firstborn son.

I’m ready. I leave my room, closing the door softly behind me. The top floor has the main bedroom and the huge library. I take the steps down, pausing at the landing. There’s a long hallway, with black doors at the end, and I know instinctively that’s where I heard Damian’s roar.

Could it be what I think it is? That’s too much to handle right now. I’ve heard the sultry rumors, and I can’t help but imagine if it is a pleasure room.

Can the room really be controlled by the owner’s mind?

The owner in this case has a very…darkmind.

I could feel his desires when he had me over his lap. How only my frail state stopped him from punishing me, disciplining me. I take a deep breath in as a shudder of lust rushes up and down my body as I imagine being held up in the air by the room itself, unable to move a muscle while the two warriors approach me.

I continue down the stairs, not letting myself think about it for too long, and stop at the big balcony above the entrance hall.

I run my hands over the wrought-iron railing and blink in surprise. My legs should have at least a bit of a burn from going down the flights of stairs. Did the pleasure dress massage them? Or do I feel stronger than I used to?

I stand on one foot, testing my balance, then slowly raise my heel. I do a pose I saw in a holo-vid once, of graceful ballerinas on Old-Earth. Standing on just my toes, I raise my other foot out to the left, and I get it above my waist when I start to lose my balance and stand normally.

A giddy sensation goes through me. Not that I was a klutz or anything, but there’s no way in hell I could stand on the toes of one foot so easily.

I don’t pause to think. Before I can talk myself out of it, I jump up onto the railing, and let myself slide down the stairs. Tarak rushes through the doors of the kitchen when he hears my shriek, and I fly into his arms.

He smiles down at me. “I see you are enjoying your new abilities,” he says, as he holds me against his chest, pressing me tight to the powerful muscles. I don’t push down the new happiness surging up in me, letting him feel it.

“My new abilities?”

He grins. His platinum-blue eyes flash. “The Bond, my Mate. It’ll make you stronger…more than you could ever believe.” He looks like he’s about to kiss me, but sets me down instead. The big man towers over me, and I look up at his strong jaw, his thick neck, the masculine power of his being.

I take a step back. He’s wearing the black robes of the Priests, his branded chest bared, and I try to appreciate the smooth, gleaming tattoos in a new light. They fought for those tattoos. Were scarred for those tattoos. And they did it for me.

“Come. You’re recovered, Athena, I can feel it. We prepared something especially for you to start the morning right.”

I raise my eyebrow. “You? You mean Laura?” I tease him, putting my guard down. There’s no icy hot rage in his being. The tortured side of him is only the tiniest, dark stain on his aura, as he enjoys the thought of a day with me.

“Yes, Laura prepared it. Under my strict direction,” he says, his voice deep and formal, and only the twinkle in his eyes lets me in on the joke.

“Lead the way, sir,” I say, smiling at him. He strides into the dining room, the robes of his toga moving with his steps, and I appreciate the brutal grace the alien warrior has. I watched that brutal grace in action when he cut down an army of Bullfrogs to save my life.

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