The Princess of the Wild Read online

  Nicholas shrugged; that was that. He returned his attention to the viewer screen, becoming increasingly frustrated. None of these women truly sparked his interest. He wanted something else.

  He motioned at Taush, and the beast noticed him and came near.

  Nicholas pointed at the Trobin. “Some hothead, huh?”

  Taush sighed and waved the incident off.

  Nicholas had a hunch that there might be finer selections for the higher paying clientele. He reached into his vest pocket and pulled out two more of the rainbow gems. “That’s all you’ve got?” he asked, motioning at the viewer.

  Taush’s dark eyes lit up. He glanced around the room, warily, and pulled a small viewer out from his pocket. He turned it on and showed it to him.

  On the viewer was an image of a different sort of woman. His breath caught in his throat. She was soft and lovely, with long and flowing red-gold hair, her breasts full and ripe, and her curves slender and tempting. She was sleeping on her side, naked and magnificently natural, her arm beneath her pillow, her full red lips parted with her breathing. He couldn’t see her eyes, closed in her slumber and her long dark lashes veiling them, but he knew that with one so beautiful, they would be clear and bright. She wasn’t yet twenty, having a glow in her angelic face. This obviously was not a seasoned whore. Rarely had he been so impressed.

  He had found the woman he would have for the night.

  “Now that’s more like it,” he said, rising from the bench.

  Taush shooed him down again, motioning at the pocket that held the rainbows, knowing that more of the prizes were in there. Nicholas pulled out one, and then another, but the beast still wasn’t satisfied.

  “You want them all?” he asked.

  Taush grunted an affirmative response.

  Nicholas cursed but deposited all five gems in his pocket onto the tabletop; he had plenty more in his travel bag. Taush scrambled to gather them up.

  As he thought of his travel bag, he remembered the pill that he must take for his birth control. He would be protected for twenty-four hours; if he were to be recognized, he couldn’t allow some little twit to lay claim to him. He sifted through his bag and found his pill case, and he swallowed one, finishing his drink. He rose and began to follow the Kalcoon to the whore’s room.

  Taush suddenly stopped and turned. “Santay Kurr,” he said in Kalcoonian.

  “One hour?” Nicholas echoed, in English.

  Taush nodded.

  “With her, you mean?”

  He nodded again.

  “You robber,” he said, backhanding the beast’s scruffy vest.

  Taush grunted in laughter as he began heading off in the direction of her room. Nicholas followed with a bounce in his step, anticipating this incredibly alluring conquest.

  Chapter 3

  Skye wasn’t sure what it was that woke her. She opened her heavy-lidded eyes and saw a glow illuminating the shadows, a light that hadn’t been there when she had fallen asleep. She turned to the source and was startled to see a man standing there, his form lit by the fire that flared brightly in the hearth.

  She gasped and bolted upward. A man loomed above her, gazing down on her. He was tall and dark, his broad, bronzy breast surprisingly bare. His hair—the color of ebony—touched his rugged shoulders, and his eyes were of the same dark hue, staring intently into hers. She had a flash of déjà vu, as if she was in the midst of a familiar presence ... and then it was gone. Her pulse began to race. He was handsome, the features of his face being perfectly proportioned and majestic, so much so that it took her breath. He smiled a smile of one with a pleasant demeanor, but what she felt from it was a warning of impending danger.

  A thousand thoughts fleeted through her head, but the one that passed through her lips was, “Who are you?”

  “Nick Christian,” he replied, his voice rich and deep. “But, names aren’t important.”

  Impatiently, he unbuckled his dark leggings, undoing the belt that encircled his narrow hips. He quickly discarded them, and then he was naked before her. Her eyes remained on his, his odd dark gaze holding her captive, seeing into her very soul. He sat beside her on the bed and he gently touched her cheek, brushing away a red-gold tress. She was frozen in her shock, unable to breathe.

  “You, lovely woman, will be a treasure,” he said softly, his voice like a caress.

  He placed a fingertip on her full lips, and then his manly lips came near to hers, and touched her ...

  A flood of emotion struck her as his warm, firm tongue searched hers, making waves and waves of an exquisite sensation flow through her. His large hand tightened at the back of her head, entangling in the softness of her hair. The strength of his tongue grew in force, and her own tongue began to travel his with a hesitant, and then equal, ardor. She could do nothing but feel this stunning pleasure, unable to grasp the reality of where she was or what was happening to her. Surely this was a dream from which she would wake? The drug that the Kalcoon had given her was making her hallucinate! She had been dreaming of a man, but he wasn’t truly here ...

  He ended the kiss with a husky groan. Bewildered, she discovered that she lay on the bed with him beside her, him half over her, his broad breast pressing boldly against hers, her robe her only protection.

  The reality of the situation impacted upon her. She was awake and a man truly was here! Her dizziness from the drug surged within her again, but she was aware enough to know that this was real—

  “No!” she breathed, pushing weakly against his massive shoulders.

  He lifted his head, as if considering her resistance. “Madame, I have paid dearly for you,” he said, a bit sternly. “Don't. I don’t play those games.”

  He set his lips on her cheek and whispered, “Just let me have you.”

  Her heart pounded wildly within her, her fear and confusion beginning to overwhelm her. His warm, hypnotizing lips were moving downward, slowly passing over her earlobe, her shoulder, down to the swell of her breasts, leaving behind a path of fire. His hands spread open her robe to bare her breasts. His gaze roved upon her while he appreciated the sight, traveling lustily on the full and round softness, the pink tips straining with the chill. Her breath came back in a rush as he placed his lips there, suddenly devouring an extended peak, the scorching onslaught sending unfathomable tingles into her loins. He passed his tongue from one sensitive tip to the other, the hot tingles becoming more and more intense with each of his seemingly calculated strokes.

  In her innocence, Skye didn’t know that such an emotion existed. It mesmerized her, overpowering her senses, leaving her weak and helpless. She must stop this stranger’s invasion of her body, but she was powerless to do so. He persisted on her breasts, his warm palms and mouth exploring her. Soon her breathing came fast and jagged, and a strange sound escaped her, a husky moan that brought a groan of torment from him.

  He began sliding her robe off her, grasping the pelt at the nape behind her and gliding it down off her shoulders and out from behind her, rising as he did so. A strange dizziness assaulted her, in her vulnerability of her nakedness. He wanted her completely bare, taking off her boots as well, placing one on his breast and unfastening the leathery ties, pulling it off, exposing her slender foot which he, for a moment, caressed. He did the same to her other foot, watching her, deciphering the expression on her face. She closed her eyes tightly, unable to withstand his scrutiny.

  Nicholas stared down on her beauty, captivated. This was a most uncommon woman—a rare gem. He wanted to make love to this one! Although he didn’t usually like to kiss a prostitute, her full and pouty, soft red lips were far too tempting for him to resist. They had been warm and sweet upon his, a pleasurable experience ... a very pleasurable experience ... She was a bit tired—after all, he had just woken her. She opened her eyes, and her gaze met his.

  Her eyes were as beautiful as he had envisioned, a deep violet-blue, fringed with long black lashes. She watched him a moment with a seemingly innocent look, and
then turned her gaze away. Her cheeks were high and exquisite, as of now flushed with becoming color. Her hair—her long, glorious hair—was softly tangled about her magnificent full breasts, flowing down to the gentle curve of her hips, glowing a rich shade of reddish gold in the firelight.

  His gaze traveled down her long and slender form, down her shapely thighs and calves, to the dainty feet, and back up to the alluring red-gold triangle of her womanhood, one that he would soon own. The scent of her was like a flower—an intoxicating fragrance that made him think of a soft purple rose. This was a most unusual woman to find in a place like this. He briefly wondered what had made her choose this way of life, but decided that it wasn’t his business. He would own her only for one hour. He had best get his money’s worth ...

  Skye flinched as he came down upon her again, finding herself being drawn into another devastating kiss. Euphoria hit her, one she had never before known. She wanted this man’s hands upon her—she wanted to know him. Surely she was having a magnificent dream—this wasn’t real, at all. Her thoughts grew distant while he touched her, she being able only to feel ... He ended the kiss as breathless as she, and moved to her breast, placing his fire there. She tangled her hands in his soft dark hair, arching her back to welcome his ardor, lost in this emotion, this mystery ...

  Suddenly he drew away, as if disciplining himself, and lay down beside her with his arm crooked, his palm on his cheek. He ran his hand leisurely over her breast, savoring her as if he wanted to experience every essence of her skin. She shivered uncontrollably under his appraisal and glanced at his eyes, seeing his awe. He seemed to enjoy how she trembled, understanding the power of his touch. He glided his hand slowly across her slender waist, across the soft curve of her hip, down her shapely thigh ... She tensed as he touched her most private of areas, but then she allowed his gentle caresses, enthralled by all the wondrous sensations his hand made.

  “Satin,” he muttered.

  His voice sent a wave of dizziness through her, making her turn her cheek into the soft pelt.

  He let out a strangled sound, as if maddened, and his hot tongue came to ravish her breast. He moved atop her, pressing audaciously against her, and she felt the hardness of his desire against her thigh. She knew about a man’s arousal, sexuality she hadn’t yet experienced. The feel of him brought a rush of warmth into her loins. His skilled hands and brutal tongue lingered on her breasts, bringing an aching between her thighs, a frustration that was rapidly becoming unbearable. She writhed beneath him, pushing her hands against his powerful shoulders ... but then her palms moved upon his back, testing the smooth firmness. She breathed in the clean, manly scent of him, a natural rugged musk that made her every sense come alive. He kept at her breasts as if he couldn’t get enough, the tips becoming raw and swollen, yet still he feasted, a splendid torture. A whimper escaped her, but he didn’t lessen his ardor, he besieged her with more fervor. She needed to be freed from this swelter ... needed to make him stop ...

  “Please!” she begged, though she didn’t know what she was asking for.

  With a sharp intake of breath, he found his compassion, and his kisses moved from her breasts down to her waist. He spread her thighs, and her breath caught in her throat when he kissed her softness. She was hit with a flood of excruciating desire, a vulnerability she feared. She tangled her hands in his hair to pull him from her ... but then she relaxed, holding him, accepting her defeat against his fiery tongue. He was consuming her ... taking away all of her control, making her hips strain in a faltering rhythm. His hands moved from her thighs onto her waist, reaching up to gently pinch the hard tips of her breasts, him latching on to them ... All of her emotion came together at once, exploding within her. Her hips bucked violently against him, freed by the waves of ecstasy.

  A soothing peace came to her, and she fell back against the pelts, awed by her discovery.

  “Whoa,” he whispered, to himself.

  Nicholas stared down on her, amazed yet unsettled. She rested with her eyes closed, as if basking in her satisfaction, beautiful in her languor. He hadn’t anticipated the passion of this encounter, or that she could take his control. He wanted to make the moment last, but he wasn’t able to endure much longer. He had limited time anyway ...

  Skye came back to life as he spread her thighs again, moving atop her. She gasped as his firmness entered her, creating a sharp pain—agony as his hard length assaulted her, threatening her ... Soon a new, potent desire replaced the pain ... He cradled her head in his arms, his breathing jagged on her ear. Her breath came fast while he filled her with his passion, again and again, with each powerful thrust. She wrapped her arms around him. Her spirit was lifting, being drawn into his commanding presence ... For an instant a monumental revelation came, assailing them with rapture, and they became one, the joining so intense that it lit her eyelids with the brilliance of the sun ...

  In the throes of the afterglow, she rested there, lost in a perfect peace. He stayed above her long after he caught his breath, unwilling to leave her. He was silent a long moment, as if he weighed a disturbing dilemma in his head. Then he rose from her, taking from her his warmth.

  He bent for his leggings there on the floor and began hurrying into them. He struggled into his black boots, threw his cloak over his bare shoulders, and fumbled for something in the travel bag that was on the bedside table. He found the small pouch that he sought and put it in his cloak pocket. He paused by the door, turning to consider her.

  “I’ll be right back,” he said, as if he were giving her a promise.

  Wide-eyed, she watched him leave from the room.

  Nicholas locked the door for her protection. He was unaware of the Trobin who watched him from the shadows of the back entrance of the building, one who already knew the combination for the lock ...

  Nicholas headed down the long hallway, toward the barroom. He needed at least twenty-four hours with this one and he would have it, betting on Taush’s greed for rainbows.

  Taush was greedy, indeed. Howbeit, the beast hadn’t won all of his rainbows, him still having a few of the gems hidden away in his bag. He headed back to her room, anticipating the rapturous hours to come. When he entered the room, he saw that she was not within the bed. He moved to the adjoining bath, and saw that she was not there, either.

  Puzzled, he stood a moment, assessing the situation. He noticed that his travel bag wasn’t on the table where he had left it. It was gone, and she was gone. And, there were three small rainbow gems where his travel bag had been.

  He cursed. It was what was in his travel bag that worried him. It held his personal accessories of little importance, but it also held his personal comm—a means to identify him. He didn’t want his disguise known to the world. He’d never be able to go anywhere as a commoner ...

  “The little twit!” he ground out, in his ire.

  There was a thief scheming behind her beautiful face.

  As he hurried for the door, his eyes were drawn to the bed, seeing a dark stain there on a white area of the mosaic pelt. The stain looked to be the blood of innocence.

  He moved to it, for a moment taking the pelt in hand.

  “A virgin?” he uttered.

  His adrenaline began to spark within him.

  “What in the hell is going on?”

  He was off to find answers ...

  Nicholas found Taush, him wiping up the slop on an abandoned table. The beast turned to see him stalking near, and was startled by his anger.

  “Where is she?” he demanded.

  The beast looked perplexed.

  “She’s not in her room. Where is she?”

  He discovered that Taush was just as surprised as he was, as he began stomping off in the direction of her room. When there, Taush saw the empty bed—and he saw the three rainbows, to which he quickly swooped up and put into his vest. He then flew into a rage, booming out his Kalcoonian curses and flexing his huge arms like he wanted to strangle someone. Nicholas realized that he wa
s saying, “Trobins! Damn Trobins! Double-crossers!”

  Nicholas caught the beast’s attention by swatting his arm. “What? She left with the Trobins?”

  A new look of panic came into the large, dark eyes. He communicated to him: “No! Don’t go after her! No Strou!”

  “Why?”

  “No! No Strou!”

  Nicholas flew to the barroom, and a quick look at all the lowlives told him that she wasn’t there. He didn’t see one Trobin, either. Putting two pieces of the puzzle together, he sprinted to the bay that docked his ship. He unlocked the door, swung himself inside, jumped in the pilot seat and powered up, taxiing to the open bay doors. When out of the bay and a safe distance away, he did a vertical take off, shooting up into the atmosphere, setting the coordinates for the wormhole. When out in space, he made a hasty flight for there.

  When he came upon the wormhole, out his port he saw nine other ships awaiting entrance. Every eighty-seven minutes the wormhole fluxuated, allowing access in. He checked the time on the panel before him; he hoped that he didn’t have much longer to wait.

  The Trobins had found this interstellar gateway, a shortcut between the two star systems. It was a point where the mesh of dark matter—the complex and invisible fabric of space—tangled together. On a linear plane, it took about a light year to reach Dazen, but in this vortex, it could be instantly reached. He understood the concept. He could compare this area of space to a dimensional letter ‘X’, one with many tiers, the Dazen Star System being on one side of the letter, and Urania on the other. On the upper tier, there was a distance of a light year, but at this lower level, at the sharp point of the 'X', the two systems converged. This was a highly volatile area, where the magnetic force was intense, once avoided before the portal was discovered. Space was not all one dimensional; it bends and twists, caught in the gravitational force of the constantly changing novas—even the pull of other distant galaxies—all caught up in the vast, unfathomable flow of the universe.