Chained (Brides of the Kindred) (5 page)

“Still…weak…” He closed his eyes and
groaned expressively. “Please…need your help.”

Maggie hesitated—she was engaged. There
was no way she ought to be putting her hands all over a mostly naked man. Especially
an extremely
hot
and
mustcular
mostly naked man. But in this
case, she decided, she would have to make an exception. There was nothing else
she could do if she wanted to save the prisoner. And there was no point in
coming in here and freeing him from all his restraints only to leave him lying
on the floor, unable to move because she felt too guilty to do what had to be
done.

“All right,” she said. “Here goes.”

She started with his face, pouring cool
handfuls of water over his cheeks and forehead and hair. Now that the seal or
barrier was broken, the dust came off easily although it seemed to help when
she stroked the water through his hair and rubbed his skin with her fingers.
She tried using the sleeve of her green dress again but that only seemed to
smear the dust. After trial and error she found it came off best when she used
skin-to-skin contact.

“Feels so good,” the prisoner groaned
softly as she finished his face and started on his broad, muscular chest. “Your
hands…so soft and gentle.”

“Thank you.” Maggie could feel her cheeks
getting hot but she continued on, scooping up water from the stream and
brushing it over the broad, flat planes of his chest. “I’m…uh, glad you’re
feeling better.”

“Felt better the first…minute I saw you.”
He looked up at her again, his eyes holding some emotion she couldn’t read.
“You wept for me…shared my pain. Why?”

“I don’t know, exactly.” Maggie shrugged
awkwardly. “I just…can’t stand to see anyone being hurt like that. It’s
awful.”

He frowned. “Just felt sorry for me, huh?
Can’t stand to see an animal tortured.”

“No, not like that,” she protested. “I
just—”

“I thought…maybe because of the dreams.”
He coughed. “Didn’t know…if you would come back.”

“I couldn’t just leave you here—especially
now that she has that terrible Hurkon collar. If I would have known what she
wanted to use it for, I never would have agreed to bring it!”

Maggie finished with his chest and back
and started on his legs. They weren’t as saturated with the silver-gray dust as
the upper part of his body was so it wasn’t too hard to get them clean—although
she did blush when she rubbed water over his knees and lower thighs. Thank
goodness for his loincloth—she really didn’t need to be seeing every single
part of him while she was giving him an impromptu sponge bath.

“If you hadn’t brought it, you never would
have seen me,” he pointed out. Then he looked pointedly down at her hands.
“Hate to ask you but…there’s a lot more dust to wash off.”

“What? Where?” His skin looked mostly
clean to her. It was a deep, dusky tan which made his pale eyes and his white
teeth stand out even more. His hair and stubble, as she had expected, were a
rich, glossy black like a raven’s wing and his hair seemed to have a slight
curl to it when she ran her fingers through the springy strands.

“Under.” He nodded down at the loincloth.
“Sorry…she made sure to coat me everywhere.”

Maggie stopped for a minute, stunned.
“You…but can’t you…uh, do it yourself?”

“Still weak.” His eyes fluttered closed as
though in exhaustion. “Please…can’t move until…all the dust is gone.”

Maggie took a deep breath. Well, she
hadn’t gone into this rescue expecting to handle some stranger’s business but
that was hardly the point. She had started this and now she had to finish it. And
besides, maybe she could just pour the water over him without touching anything
at all.

That was what she
intended
to do, anyway.

Her hand shook as she raised the loincloth
and she gave a little gasp at what she saw beneath. Even only half hard, he was
big.
Way bigger than anyone else in her limited experience—especially Donald
whose equipment reminded her of a shy, skinny worm afraid to come out of its
hole. In contrast, the prisoner had a python between his legs.

Trying to put the size comparison out of
her mind, she concentrated on the matter at hand. As he had said, the prisoner
was coated with the gray dust from his hip bones all the way down to his upper
thighs. Clearly it had to come off.

She reached for a hand full of water and dribbled
it over his naked hip but it barely touched the thick dust that coated him.
Well, great—
that
clearly wasn’t going to work. It was going to be a
hands-on job, whether she liked it or not.

Taking a deep breath, Maggie got another
handful of water and began to rub the area vigorously. But the prisoner caught
her wrist in a surprisingly strong grip.

“Careful,” he murmured, opening his eyes
to look at her. “That’s…sensitive territory. Be gentle.”

“Oh, of course! I’m so sorry,” Maggie
exclaimed. Feeling even more nervous, she scooped up double handfuls of water
and poured it over his crotch. But though the silver-gray dust ran off his flat
hipbones in rivulets, the central area—
say it, Maggie,
she thought,
his
shaft—
was not coming clean.

The prisoner seemed to realize this
because he looked up at her again.

“Sorry, blondie…looks like you’re going to
have to touch it.”

“I…but I…” Maggie looked at him
helplessly.

“It’s all right.” He gave her a taunting
little grin. “It doesn’t bite. I promise.”

“All right,” she said at last, her heart
drumming in her ears. “I…I’ll try to be careful.”

“I know you will,” he murmured. “You’ve got
a gentle touch.”

“Thank you,” she whispered awkwardly.
Reaching for a handful of water, she took a deep breath and stroked it gently
along the length of his long, thick shaft.

The rod of flesh seemed to pulse in her
palm but her hand wasn’t nearly large enough to cover his entire length. She
reached for more water with her other hand and spread it over his thickness,
using both hands to work on him now.

The prisoner groaned low in his throat and
his hips pumped once, almost involuntarily. Maggie felt her cheeks heating—it
was almost like she was jerking him off!

But I’m not—not
really,
she told herself hastily as she got more
water.
I’m just getting rid of the dust. That’s all.
But if that was so,
why was she now working in rhythm, stroking his shaft up and down, letting it
slide through her curled fingers as the prisoner moaned and pressed up into her
hands? And why was he now completely erect, a pearly drop of precum beaded at
the thick head of his straining cock?

“So good,” he groaned as she added more
water and rubbed him even harder. “Gods, your touch is amazing. Your sweet
little hands…”

“That’s enough!” Maggie stopped abruptly.
“You’re all clean now,” she went on, when he looked up at her uncertainly.
“You…you should be able to get it up. I mean,
get up,”
she amended
hastily, her cheeks burning. God, how was she going to explain this to Donald?
What would he say when he knew what she had been up to?

This wasn’t part of
the plan,
she thought wildly.
None
of this was. I was just supposed to get the documents and go back to the ship.
So
how had she ended up kneeling on the floor, jerking off a man she’d never seen
before except in her dreams?

Maggie had no idea but she
did
know
somehow that this wasn’t over yet.

* * * * *

He looked up at her, her adorably flushed
cheeks and her tousled curls. Her oculars were slipping down her nose and he
could
almost
make out the color of her eyes. He wanted a closer look but
he sensed she wouldn’t be up for that right now.

Gods, her little hands had felt good on
him! So soft and gentle and tentative but strong too, when they needed to be.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been touched in such a way. Mostly all
the females that had been sent to him while he was still fighting were for breeding
purposes only—none of them stayed long enough to form much of an attachment.

But this little one—the girl of his
dreams—wasn’t hardened or jaded like the females he’d been with in the past.
She was innocent and sweet yet very brave. Touching him embarrassed the hell
out of her but she'd done it anyway, because she knew it was the only way to
help him. If only she’d helped him a little longer, he was certain he would
have lost control completely.

Maybe it’s better she
stopped when she did
, he thought darkly.

Wincing, he put his fingertips to his
throat, where the black leather inhibitor had been for so many years. What
would he be like without it? He only dimly remembered the incident which had
prompted his master to make him wear it in the first place but it hadn’t been
pretty. He had never been allowed to take it off—not even in the arena when he
fought at the Blood Circuit. He would never hurt this sweet, shy girl who had
saved him—not on purpose, anyway. But without the inhibitor, he wasn’t sure
what the hell he might do.

Well, the first thing
to do is get out of here before Pope’nose shows up.
True enough, and if his rescuer was really as innocent as
she seemed, she might need some rescuing of her own to get out.

Shaking off the morbid thoughts, he rose
to his feet and held out a hand to her.

“Come on.”

She looked up at him uncertainly. “What,
you’re better? Just like that?”

He shrugged. “You washed off the verium.
My strength is returning.”

“Uh-huh.” She looked skeptical but allowed
him to help her to her feet.

“Good.” He nodded. “Let’s go—you’re coming
with me.”

“Wait a minute, go where?” she protested.
“I never said I would go anywhere with you. I…I don’t even know your name.”

He sighed. “This isn’t the best time for
introductions but I was called Korexiroth during my time at the Blood Circuit.”

“Ooookay,” she said slowly. “That’s quite
a mouthful.”

“It means The Demon.” He watched her
closely, wanting to see if she was afraid of him. But though his fighting name
had struck terror in the hearts of countless opponents, she still showed no
fear. Brave little thing.

“That’s…interesting,” she said at last.
“Maybe I could just call you Kor for short? Unless you go by something else
when you’re not in the, uh, Blood Circuit, whatever that is?”

“Before I was The Demon, my master just
called me ‘slave.’” He shrugged. “I don’t have any other name.”

“Kor it is,” she decided.

“Kor it is,” he repeated gravely. He
wondered if she knew that the giving of a name constituted ownership. She had,
in effect, just claimed him. Kor didn’t know how he felt about that—though he’d
been raised a slave, a part of him had always remained free. What was it about
this little female with her blonde curls that made him think she could tame
that part and make it her own?

Don’t be stupid,
he told himself firmly.
She’s just a girl. True, you
dreamed about her and she rescued you but there has to be some explanation for
that. Maybe something to do with that damn Dream Gas they’re all using here all
the time.

“So what’s your name?” he asked, trying to
move on.

“Maggie.”

“Maggie…Maggie…” He rolled the name on his
tongue. “I like it. What does it mean?”

“Mean? Uh…” She shook her head. “I don’t
know. We don’t…names don’t always mean something where I come from.”

“Must mean courage,” Kor decided. “It took
a lot of guts for you to come save me.”

“You’re not quite saved yet,” she pointed
out. “It must be near morning. We need to get out of here and be far away by
the time Lady Pope'nose wakes up.”

“Exactly.” He held out a hand to her.
“Which is why you need to come with me.
Now.”

She drew back. “I’m not going anywhere
with you! I have a fiancé back home and a ship waiting for me across the
chasm.”

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow at her
sardonically. “And do you have a way to
get
to this ship?”

“Uh, well…” She looked uncertain. “Lady
Pope'nose's servant—her slave, I mean—brought me here in the first place. I
guess he was supposed to take me back again too.”

“And do you want to risk using her
resources when at any minute she could discover me missing and call the slave
to bring you back?” Kor demanded. “I can promise you, she won’t go easy on you
just because you’re a guest.”

Maggie shivered. “Okay, I guess you’ve got
a point. But do you have a better idea of how to get out of here and cross the
chasm? I mean, that hole is freaking
huge.”

“We’ll steal a hovercar,” he said calmly.

“I can’t steal a car!” she protested. “I’m
not a
thief.”

“Yes, you are.” He grinned at her. “You
stole
me
. And knowing what I do about Yonnite currency, I’m worth a hell
of a lot more than even the most expensive luxury vehicle on this whole damn planet.”