Sex Slaves 1: Sex Traders Read Free Page B

legs weren’t tattooed. The intricate vines and flower pattern twisted around her arms, over her shoulders, criss-crossing over her breasts, and flowing over her hips to her backside. Most women of fine culture were adorned with the intricate ink drawings in their skin. But Marla made the drawings a work of art.
    “Do you know how beautiful you are?” he barely whispered.
    Talking distracted him from the demands his body made on his brain, but he needed the distraction to stay focused. If he didn’t, he would rape her. He wouldn’t rape her, though. He needed her to want him as badly as he wanted her. If she denied him, he wouldn’t be able to live through it.
    But she smiled. He was sure of it. Her lips perked upwards just enough to show she hadn’t completely tuned him out.
    The blood splatters were gone from her body, but he rinsed one more cloth, making the water almost hot. Returning to stand close enough to feel her breath, he ran the damp cloth over her breast.
    “Trev.” She cried out his name so beautifully, her body convulsing, her hands balling into fists.
    He brushed the cloth over her other breast. She inhaled, her breath coming in gasps. If he didn’t give his cock some room in his pants, he knew he would do permanent damage to the most cherished part of his body.
    But he wouldn’t take her by force. She wanted him, and if he played this right, she would admit to her desires. He ran his finger over her nipple, not able to stop himself. Thoughts of how to persuade her flowed through him, but all were matters of seduction. Any woman would succumb to her cravings if persuaded well enough. But he wanted Marla to be glad she had fucked him after the act, and not regret it.
    “Are you still scared?” He wanted to know her thoughts, had to know what stirred beyond those fluttering eyelashes, her quivering breaths.
    She met his gaze, those gray eyes of hers swarming with emotion. Her mouth opened to speak, but then she closed it again, her lips puckering into a delightful pout. What he wouldn’t do to experience those full lips wrapped around his cock.
    “Will you hurt me?” He almost didn’t hear her ask, she spoke so quietly.
    He shook his head, surprised by the question. “No.” If he had anything to say about it, she would never experience pain again.
    “Then I’m not scared of you.” Her lashes fluttered over those beautiful eyes, her brief moment of acknowledging him passing.
    He wanted to tell her that both of their families were dead, that all treaties and laws preventing them from being together no longer existed. All that was left were the two of them, free to create their own path. But telling her these things would manipulate her decisions. Marla had to decide she wanted him.
    The washcloth landed in the sink. He didn’t want it preventing him from touching her any longer. Her skin was like silk, decorated with such rich colors. He wanted to look at every part of her all at once, explore all she had to offer with one touch. Blood raced through him, just as his thoughts did, his craving for her intensifying the longer he stood in front of her.
    “The Bortan tasted you.” Her hips quivered while he focused on her shaved pussy. “I saw what he did to you.”
    Her breaths became longer, inhaling deeply. She anticipated what he would do. There was no panic on her expression. Even though her eyes remained closed, once again, he no longer believed she blocked him out.
    Trev knelt, inhaling the thick scent of her cream. The aroma made him mad with need. Pre-cum soaked the tip of his cock and it took more strength than he knew he possessed to move slowly. Her legs trembled, spread, unable to close while bound to the wall, or prevent him from touching her, tasting her.
    “I promise you, no Bortan will ever touch you here again.” He traced his finger along the opening of her cunt, moisture seeping from her small hole, soaking his finger.
    Her leg muscles became more defined, her body