Enticed By The Corsair (Corsairs, #3)

by Ruby Dixon

“Promise me,” Tarekh says in a low voice. When I glance over, he continues. “Promise me that if she’s dead, you’ll put an end to me, too. I won’t live knowing that I failed her.” I stare at him. We’ve been through a lot, he and I, and Tarekh’s always been light-hearted and easy-going. This isn’t him. But I’ve never been mated. I don’t understand what it’s like. This sits wrong with me. But I also know what it’s like to want to die. So I nod.

another trick. This might be my captors toying with me, trying to goad me into fighting back again because then they get to maim me again. As if they needed an excuse. My fingers itch, especially the tip of my pinky that’s no longer there. My missing toe, too. The carvings in my leg that are probably someone’s initials, or the alien equivalent of “Dave Wuz Here.” Not my eyes, though. My eyes never hurt. Probably because they’re gone. Since that awful day that they were taken from me, I’ve relied on my other senses a lot more. I can sense a change in the air when one of the aliens kneels down in front of my cage. He’s standing close enough that I can just catch a whiff of his breath. It’s oddly pleasant…but then again, what wouldn’t be compared to the stink of this room? So I sit and wait. Wait for instructions, or beatings, or something. I’ve learned the hard way that disobedience only costs you things. I was wild and rebellious once—no longer. Never again. I don’t want to lose anything else.

and the sound of my native language—hell, just being able to understand someone—is so welcome that I’d cry if I had tear ducts left. “They’re gone.” “They’re gone? That’s all you have to say about it?” The one man sounds incredulous, and I catch myself fascinated by the way his tongue caresses the words. He says them strangely, as if English—or anything human—isn’t his first language, and it probably isn’t. I wonder if he’s alien, too. “Just as calm as anything? They’re gone? They’re your eyes.” I want to pour my heart out. I want to say I know they’re gone. I wasn’t a good slave and so they punished me because I fought back. And the more I fought back, the harder they hit. They took my finger and my toe and when I still wouldn’t stop fighting, they took my eyes. And that did it for me. I haven’t fought since. Now I’m the only one alive because I’m obedient. The others are dead. All dead. And I’m stuck here in this cage and have been for a month and I want nothing more than my freedom and the cool breeze of Earth on my face. Please help me because I can’t take much more.

“He's missing out, then. That's half the fun.” More crude laughter. I feel like I'm choking. Like there's not enough air in the ship. Heck, in the entire universe. They haven't said a name. I need to hear a name before I completely freak out. I don't remember the lord's name exactly, but I'd know it if I heard it. Besides, how many lords are there out in the universe looking to buy virgins? But maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I'm hearing things that aren't necessarily true, that it's all in my head and I'm just piecing things together from my past experience. They might not even be talking about humans. “Does he have a preference?” “A preference for what?” “They come in different colors. Brown, pale pink, or that ugly pasty shade that looks like they lived in a cave all their lives. And the hair—yellow hair? Orange hair? Black hair? No hair?” “Mmm, what do you got?” A laugh barks through the line, and I jump in my seat at how loud and rough it is. “Friend, I can make whatever he wants happen. If he likes them with yellow hair, they'll have yellow hair.” The other laughs. “Just as long as they're docile.” “Oh, they'll be docile by the time they get to him, never fear.” Goosebumps prickle up and down my arms. I feel sick. They still haven't mentioned a name and I'm growing more anxious by the moment, because I need to hear it. I don't know what I'll do if I confirm it, but I have to find out the answer for my own peace of mind. The first one grunts. “Give me a few days to arrange thi...

“Oh?” A hand brushes mine. I recognize the callused fingers and the fuzzy-soft skin—Alvos. He wants to hold my hand. I don't know if I'm pleased or worried. It feels like something is wrong. I twine my fingers through his and force my voice to be placid and even. “What's the next job? I thought we were hooking someone at the station with gambling.” “That can happen anytime,” Kivian says. “This particular job is more time sensitive. We're intercepting a shipment.” “What kind of shipment?” I ask idly, since it's awfully quiet in the room. If everyone's in here, they're not talking. Someone clears a throat. Male. I don't know who. Then, Alvos squeezes my hand. “You know who we're going after.” Cold washes over me. This is why everyone is here, then. This is why it's quiet and feels fraught with tension in the room. “You're going after Lord Unto,” I comment, my voice mild and bland as could be. Inside, I'm screaming. Outwardly, though, I'm so very calm. “Full name is Lord Unto'Abarri'Nil Vohs Bekhinto, Lord of Nine Sunrises and Ruler of the Thirteenth Moon,” says Kivian, and then he snorts. “Pompous ass.” No one laughs despite his pause, so he continues. “He's getting a shipment of illegal goods. Likely some human slaves, possibly other forbidden species. We don't think it's darkmatter or weaponry shipments because he's got a very small crew with him. We've touched base with a few contacts and found out that he's currently vacationing on his barge near Ekhos II's water moon. I...

Finally, my alien lifts his head from my pussy and presses a kiss to my thigh. “You want me to wear plas-film? I can get up and get some.” “What is that?” Dazed, I try to picture what he's talking about. “Condoms?” “It's a film that covers your skin,” he tells me, continuing to press his mouth to my thigh as if addicted. “So I can't transfer diseases or my seed into your body.” “So it is like a condom.” When I feel his body move, I realize he's shrugging. “Are you diseased, then?” “No.” “Can you get me pregnant?” “Not without medical assistance, I'm afraid.” His tongue flicks against my skin. “Then stay with me.” I stroke a hand down his horns, then caress his cheek. “Forget about that and just stay with me. We'll do this skin to skin.” Alyvos groans. “Keffing love when you say such sexy things.” I can't help but chuckle. “Is that sexy then?” “Honestly, everything you say is sexy.” I hear a rustle of fabric and his body shifts against mine. He's undressing the rest of the way. His tail clenches tight along my leg and then moves away. A second later, his weight shifts over me once more, and I feel nothing but glorious, wonderful skin. I sigh with contentment as his body settles over mine. “You feel so good.” His hand skims over the length of my back and I realize belatedly that we're floating once more. Oh. At some point I let go of the bed and we're both midair. I slide my arms around him, and when his mouth brushes over mine, I let out a moan because it feels so good. Aly...