Chapter Seven
Sa’Mya lay sprawled, spent as though she were a common concubine—and he had left her. She would never forgive him. Most importantly, she would never forgive herself for giving in so easily. Why had she?
There was something about his touch she couldn’t resist, a touch that had ignited something deep inside. A fire she had not known burned there. Their energies had connected. She had been sure of it. He wanted her too. Why had he stopped…again?
Next time…no, there could never be a next time. She firmed her resolve. She would bide her time. She would play captive. Then she would pay these humans whatever they requested and return home as her rightful place as queen.
A slight smile crossed her lips. Her first command would be to exile her uncle, his followers and his son.
Her gaze settled on the crumpled, dirty gown on the floor next to her. She threw it toward the door. It stood as a reminder of how easily she had given in to the captain.
What else could she wear? She couldn’t walk around naked.
She pulled herself together. First thing she wanted to do? Rid her body of the captain’s grimy handprints. She found the shower and cleaned up as best she could. She was used to running water, not the ionized cleaning system on the vessel. She fumbled with the nobs and buttons at first, but despite what the humans thought of her, she was not addle-brained.
With that task completed, she still had the problem of missing clothes. Without her trunk, she had nothing else to wear. Since her clothes weren’t an option, she settled for the captain’s.
She made her way to his closet and slid on the first shirt she found hanging there. The aroma of human-male musk filled her nostrils. Kane.
The scent of him made her nipples instantly harden under the soft material. She couldn’t control the pleasure that pulsated over her senses as the shirt brushed across her.
She inhaled deeply…sex.
Her highly developed olfactory senses recognized the sweet smell that lingered faintly on the material. She wrinkled her nose. The scent didn’t belong to her. Whom did it belong to?
The other person that he had mistaken her for?
She pushed the jealous thought from her mind. She caught her reflection in the mirror attached to the closet door.
Was his lover a human or alien?
It was hard to keep jealousy at bay when her hair was matted. She raked her fingers through the tangled mess of waves that spilled over her shoulders. She picked up the comb from the floor and raked it through her hair. Bits of it broke off as she did. Without a deep conditioning she would have a hard time getting the knots out. Realizing it was no use, she stopped.
She had scrubbed her face clean of makeup, preferring her natural skin instead. If Moira were here she would have promptly covered Sa’Mya’s face in the expensive makeup that made her resemble a concubine rather than a princess. Moira had told her before that it was on Uncle Umar’s wishes that the make-up had been applied and whatever Uncle Umar wanted, he got.
Sa’Mya peered down at her naked and exposed thighs. Then turned to the side for further inspection and noticed the bottom of the shirt stopped midway on her butt cheeks.
This isn’t going to work.
The slightest movement would reveal her most intimate details.
She wouldn’t mind wearing the comfortable garment if she were at home, in her private quarters where visitors were few and far between. But she wasn’t at home. She was trapped with the captain whom she had a hard time resisting. Sa’Mya pulled at the material, trying to stretch it past her butt.
The material stretched slightly but not by much. She needed bottoms. Sa’Mya rummaged through the closet and grabbed a pair of loose-fitting pants. She held them up to her legs. Too long. With a flick of the wrist, she dropped those and grabbed the next pair—too big.
This wouldn’t do at all. No matter what the captain’s plans were, she needed her clothes.
Sa’Mya went to the communication panel. The open-channel button was so tempting. The captain had already yelled at her once, she wouldn’t call for him again. She punched every other button besides that one. “Moira? Nebin? Yazmine?” she called with each try.
“What,” Kane bellowed from the intercom as she finished the second row.
I didn’t want him. “I need my clothes.” She released the button but quickly selected it again. “Please,” she added.
“What? Do you need help? Ryan isn’t here to translate.”
“Ugh. Clothes,” she said slowly. Why didn’t they all have universal translators?
“I can’t understand you, but if you have an emergency press the button twice.”
Sa’Mya did as he instructed.
“If I come all the way there and it’s not a real emergency, I will send you out the air lock. Now press the button twice if you have an emergency.”
She reached for the button but pulled her hand away. “You are such a Hkerian toad.”
“I thought so. Now do whatever princesses do until I return. I know you can’t be missing me already.” He laughed, hard and throaty, before the line went dead.
With a slew of curses, she went back to the bed and slumped.
Who does he think he’s messing with? I’m Princess Sa’Mya of Laconia. Soon to be queen.
Oh, right. He doesn’t know.
Sa’Mya threw an arm across her face and groaned.
* * * * *
Kane sat back in his chair and chuckled. He couldn’t understand her but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out she had cussed him out. She couldn’t comb her own hair or dress herself but she could cuss. The thought amused him.
She had a temper on her, that was for sure. He couldn’t blame her aides for going buck wild the first chance they got. They were probably overjoyed to be away from the selfish and self-absorbed princess. He had every intention of allowing her the aides and trunks of clothes.
After I bring her to heel.
He imagined her now, sitting on his bed, arms crossed over her voluptuous breasts, light-red pouting lips contrasting against radiant skin. Even with knots in her hair, he remembered the silky strands running through his fingers. Kane flexed his hands.
Anna. He grabbed his armrest.
I won’t, no, can’t soil her memory. Anna, my heart, was so good to me. The love of my life. Just the thought of touching…or fucking that alien in my cabin is unfaithful.
Anna wouldn’t have wanted him to live the rest of his life lonely and bitter. She would’ve wanted him to be happy no matter what. But even after all this time, he couldn’t shake the memory of her death. The nightmares of her charred body, burned beyond recognition, still plagued him. And the babies… Guilt would never let him rest.
He should have made her stay at his back. He should have protected her better. He punched his armrest until his fist turned red. Only then did he stop to rub his hand, encouraging the feeling to return.
The emptiness weighed down on him. His chest tightened. His heart had already begun to beat sporadically. He did what he always did when the loneliness crept up on him.
Kane initiated the window release. Low humming came from the metal that slid over invisible tracks, hidden beneath the structure of the walls. The front-view window became larger as the protective covering slid away.
Kane melted into his chair and let the view of the stars and planets envelope him. The vastness of space made him calmer. It always did. Most times he would relieve Ryan so he could have a moment of peace here. Ever since the little Indian man he had shared a space with on the Loconuist vessel explained his Hindu belief of reincarnation to him, Kane had a sense of serenity when he watched the stars. The Hindus believed when a person died, their soul was reincarnated in another body.
He and Anna weren’t Hindus but the idea made him feel better…at peace. According to the Hindus, Anna could be out there somewhere, given a second chance at life. That thought always put him at ease.
Eventually he might find a woman and settle down. Hell, why not? Three of his former crewmates had done just that. Ryan could take over as captain. Ryan would be more than able to keep everyone in check and out of trouble.
Maybe they would all settle in one place someday. Even Jess. But that would require her to let down her guard. Something he didn’t see her doing anytime soon. He speculated the reason for her dress and demeanor was to push away as many males as possible. She loathed anything feminine. Those qualities had been lost a long time ago.
He tried to picture Jess in the same gown the princess wore and came up short. First of all, Jess would put a blaster to his temple for even suggesting the idea and second, no one could fill that dress out as Princess Sa’Mya did. Nothing matched the way Sa’Mya’s dress hung over her breasts, curves and hips. And the slits that ran up the sides, in a word, were dangerous. The slits gave him an unencumbered view of her long legs.
Shit.
Looking at his dick, he groaned.
If I have to jack myself off again, I’m going to lose it.
There was one woman onboard he could sate himself with. He called for Jess. The princess was invading his head.
Damn, what is that alien doing to me?
Jess didn’t make him wait long. She entered and folded her arms across her chest and leaned against the wall. “What?”
He rolled his eyes. Great. She’s still mad.
Kane swiveled to face her. He rubbed the outline of his throbbing cock that bulged under his pants.
Jess smirked. “You think you can call me just because your dick decided to get hard?”
“I didn’t want it to go to waste. Besides…” He continued to caress the length of his cock.
Jess pushed off the wall and sauntered toward him with a predatory gait. “Well, you do owe me for last night. But don’t get any ideas, this doesn’t change anything.”
“I owe you. That’s all. I know this doesn’t change anything.” He slowly pulled down the front of his pants. His cock sprang free.
Between heavy eyelids, Jess watched it twitch and bounce with need. She licked her lips and dropped to her knees in front of him.
This was why he dealt with her. No pretty words needed. No compliments expected. He held his cock by the base and palmed her head, pushing her open mouth over his dick.
Jess moaned as she greedily engulfed him. She relaxed her throat, sliding all the way down to the hilt. A skill she learned in the brothel. She raised her head only to spit on the tip. Tightly, she fisted his swollen shaft and pumped. She spit two more times, working it in as lubrication. Her tongue flicked out to swirl his slit. Kane groaned as her head descended again.
Kane leaned back and sighed. He needed this to forget about the princess. Jess’s tongue swirled on his head again before her mouth slid down the length of him. The muscles in his jaw tightened as she made another slow descent to the base. She was an expert but to tell her so would get his ass kicked. He sifted his fingers through her short hair.
If only these were golden locks.
Kane stiffened. Shit, not again.
Jess lifted her head. “I’m going to suck your dick so good.”
Kane winced. Jess didn’t have Sa’Mya’s lyrical voice.
Her strong hands grabbed his cock, fisting it.
“Feed me your hot dick,” she said in what he imagined she thought was her sexy voice. Ugh.
Kane squeezed his eyelids tighter, trying to block out the visual in front of him. It didn’t work, his erection faded fast.
He imagined a golden beauty on her knees. His stomach flipped and heat spread across his skin. Instead of strong hands, he imagined soft ones gently rubbing his balls, milking them from his core. His cock throbbed and pulsed with engorgement.
“That’s right. I want this big dick inside me.”
Erection gone. Damn.
Jess planted her mouth on his cock and continued to suck, trying to coax his limp cock to a more glorious size. Nothing.
She let his shaft drop in a flaccid heap on his thigh. “What the fuck is the matter with you?” she growled.
Kane pulled his pants over his traitorous member. “Sorry. I thought I was ready.”
Jess straightened in a huff. “You know what? I’m so tired of dealing with you. Your wife is dead. Gone. I’m not waiting around for you to get hard anymore.”
She didn’t offer him a backward glance before she left.
If she’d turned, she would have seen the stunned look on his face. For once his wife hadn’t been the female in his thoughts.
Holy shit. What’s wrong with me?