The Nine Realms of the Uti I: Warrior Prince Page 3
She’d already started toward the bed where he’d lain down to await her services when she realized she was still carrying her collection kit. “Sorry,” she gasped absently and rushed to her bag to stow it safely. She hesitated over her gloves, but finally decided to remove them when it occurred to her that he might find it offensive for her to wear them.
He was lying flat of his back, watching her, when she turned toward the bed again. His arms, folded beneath his head for support, bulged with muscle.
An electrically charged discomfort flitted through her. Her gaze skittered away but that only allowed it to skim over the rest of his beautifully sculpted body and rattled her more.
She hesitated beside the bed. “Where is the discomfort?” she asked shakily, trying to act casual as she placed a hand on the nearest thigh.
He caught her hand and dragged it up his inner thigh from knee to groin. “Here.”
Lauren’s gaze had followed the path of her hand and connected with his genitals as if it had locked in place.
She lost time.
By the time she managed to break the hold of absolute fascination with the two cocks sprouting from the nest of hair at the apex of his thighs, there could be no doubt in his mind or hers that she’d been enthralled.
The image seemed to be burned into her eyes as she looked away, blinked several times in an effort to recall what she was supposed to be doing, and then finally commanded movement of her hand.
He rolled toward her, imprisoning her hand between his hard thighs in the process.
“It will be easier, I believe, if you join me here,” he said, grasping her and dragging her onto the bed with him.
She wallowed on him trying to get her bearings and finally managed to sit up on his legs. Whether he truly believed what he’d said, or not, it damn sure wasn’t easier trying to perform a massage and hold herself in a crouch above his legs. The discomfort steadied her, however, and she managed to focus, briefly, on the task.
“My cocks do not look like those of the men you are familiar with?”
Lauren’s attention snapped to his face automatically when he voiced the question. She gaped at him several moments while that slowly sank in and outrage erupted at the suggestion, or at least what seemed to be an insinuation, that she must be very familiar with men. “I wouldn’t know,” she responded tightly.
Rama grasped her arm and jerked her toward him so fast her head swam as he twisted and slammed her against the mattress beside him. His expression was grim as he leaned over her. “Your tone aside—and I will tell you that no man would dare to speak to me that way—I am curious that a Di-ore would have no familiarity with the male body. Are you claiming that you have known no man?”
The fear that Lauren had barely managed to tamp erupted inside her once more, making it all the more difficult to think at all, let alone clearly.
It transpired that it was a fortunate circumstance.
Lauren wasn’t inclined to be impulsive or to speak without consideration—not that she wasn’t guilty of having done both from time to time, but it was not behavior common to her.
And yet she’d allowed the implied insult to inspire both—or at least, what she’d perceived as an insult.
She’d forgotten herself.
She was posing as a Di-ore and should be familiar with many men.
Damn it!
How the hell was she supposed to recover a slip like that?
She swallowed several times with an effort, but his anger had acted upon her like an icy shower and her mind was far more clear than it had been moments before.
“My … uh … master has never shared me … before.”
Something flickered in his eyes. “And I have to suppose he indulges you a very great deal or you would not be so disrespectful,” he said dryly.
Lauren felt her face redden, but it was more anger this time than discomfort. She looked away.
He captured her face and forced her to meet his gaze again.
She struggled to tamp her resentment and look contrite but a lifetime of freedom was difficult to erase overnight.
He laughed abruptly.
The sound sent a rush of pleasure through Lauren, but before she could respond, he killed the brief relief. “I’ve found that clever women are far more interesting, but they are also far more dangerous. Were you sent to put a knife in my back? Poison my wine?”
Lauren gaped at him in horror.
It was unfortunate that Rama couldn’t be certain that look was proof of innocence and not proof that he had guessed correctly. He would have liked to believe she was no more than a pawn at worst.
Maybe he wanted to believe that a lot more than he should?
Even with his suspicions, he discovered that the temptation to kiss her, or far more, while he had her at a disadvantage, surged into him full blown. It was a dangerous hunger that could very easily overcome his good sense and result in the early demise that had been hanging over him since he was a child.
He released her abruptly, rolled off the bed and began to dress.
Lauren sat up and blinked at him in confusion. “You didn’t want a massage?”
He turned to look at her a little absently, skimming a hungry gaze down her length. “I will be massaging my cocks in the fists of your womanhood if you are not very careful, woman.”
The comment, and the look, sent an unexpected rush of desire, pleasure, and fear through Lauren.
She’d missed the opportunity to tell him that, yes, he was different, but that would only create more awkwardness now.
Or an interest in examining her to verify she wasn’t lying.
And Lauren wasn’t ready to allow or invite intimacy—despite the fact that she’d agreed to it when she’d volunteered.
He paused at the door before he left and studied her thoughtfully. “I will expect you to entertain me this evening when we meet in the great hall to sup.”
Lauren nodded but discovered he’d already left.
She buried her face in her hands when she was alone again, chastising herself, struggling to regain her equilibrium.
They hadn’t been able to devote a great deal of time to preparing their volunteers for the herculean task ahead of them. They couldn’t really spare the time they had dedicated to it. And of course, it went without saying that none of them were used to the charade they were tasked to perform. She might be used to a world where everyone was considered equal under the law, but the Uti weren’t. Their society was very clearly broken into a ruling class, a warrior class, and the serving class.
Rama was a king.
In his world, he had no equals save the rulers of the other realms of Kali—and she imagined he would debate that.
She couldn’t speak to him—in she wanted to stay alive and do well—as if she was his equal!
What had she been thinking?
She hadn’t been thinking, she realized. There had just been no adjustment period, too many shocks for her to sync to her situation, and too little preparation.
It wasn’t as if she’d agreed with no clue that this would be a very difficult and dangerous task. She just hadn’t fully grasped what she was getting herself in to because she’d been too focused on the prize.
* * * *
It was the realization that she wasn’t going anywhere until she’d completed her mission that eventually ‘helped’ Lauren pull herself together.
Not that that eventuality was at all likely before she’d spent the customary seven days in Proushta but failure simply wasn’t acceptable. And if she got what they needed, they might be convinced to bring her home—assuming, of course, they figured out some way to fetch her home that didn’t require the now broken life-pod—which she would not be using for the return trip!
That being the case, she climbed off of the bed and went to search for a place she might refresh herself. She found it in the smaller of the two adjoining rooms that made up Rama’s suite—a bathing chamber that was amazing. And a sheer delight f
or someone who hadn’t been expecting anything even nearly as comfortable despite the assurance they’d had from the xeno-archeologists that the natives had such things.
It was a marvel of ingenuity, particularly considering the stage of development of the natives, but then humans had always striven for comfort and convenience. It was the love of it that had inspired the majority of their achievements.
And apparently the Uti had that in common with humans.
There was running water in the bath and toilet, clearly piped in from a hot spring in the mountain above Rama’s principle castle/main seat, which was called Do-ran du. The bath was literally a pool, carved from rock, and since the drain was near the top, there was a constant renewal of fresh, hot water—which perked Lauren up immediately. The same principle seemed to have been used to flush the toilet—a flow-through of water diverted from the same natural spring.
The splash and gurgle of water made it somewhat noisy, but the sound was soothing at the same time. And beyond that it was such a relief to have access to sanitary facilities she wasn’t inclined to complain.
At least, she supposed she did.
She might be making an assumption that could get her in trouble.
Beyond the trouble she could be in if Rama caught her naked in his bath and decided it was an invitation.
Of course, as they understood the Di-ore custom—sex wasn’t typically expected of the women. They were highly trained with all sorts of skills to entertain men—through song and dance, witty, educated conversation, reading and more personal things like the massage he’d requested. In point of fact, since the woman was ‘loaned’ as a gesture of friendship, it was considered very bad form to force the issue (thankfully!). Rape was construed as an act of war. Even seduction wasn’t allowed, but a man who could coax the woman into his bed could usually count on her not carrying tales when she returned to her master. It would be their little secret … unless she produced a child that was clearly of a different tribe within the gestation period and couldn’t pass it off as the issue of her master.
In which case, all hell could break loose.
So, she didn’t think that was anything she need concern herself about unless she appeared to be open to the idea.
By getting naked in his bath.
Of course, there had been some not so subtle hints when she was being prepped for the mission that sex might be the best, quickest, easiest way to collect ‘specimens’ for testing, but they hadn’t ordered the volunteers to have sex with the barbarians or they probably would have refused to go at all.
Lauren was pretty sure she would have run like hell.
Now—well, she didn’t find the notion nearly as appalling. There was no getting around the fact that Rama was delicious man-meat. But he was also really scary and she rather thought she preferred to collect samples the old-fashioned way.
That being the case, she quickly used the facilities and headed back to the bedroom to collect her kit. This time, though, she was careful to keep watch for any visitors.
That was when she realized that it was the sound of running water from the bath that had masked Rama’s entrance before—and maybe the crackling of the fire on the hearth, as well. It created ‘white noise’ that was just loud enough to filter out other noises, although she hadn’t actually realized that before.
Dismissing it once she’d made a mental note that she would definitely have to be more careful in future, she moved around the room in her search and finally headed toward the bathing room. There she discovered a brush on a vanity near the pool. Taking a pair of tweezers from the kit, she plucked the hair from the brush and carefully stuffed as many as she could into a vial. The location suggested the hair belonged to Rama even though the color—blond—wasn’t especially unique but rather very common among the Flaxen. There seemed to be roots attached to at least some of the hair, which would be very useful if true.
When she’d finished, she carefully replaced the brush in its original position and headed into the second room of Rama’s suite.
Almost immediately, her gaze was snagged by a glass across the room that still contained a small amount of liquid—enough to convince her that it was a vessel Rama had drank from.
Although, really, it didn’t particularly matter if it was Rama or not.
They thought, given Rama’s history, that he might have had a close enough encounter with the pathogen they were investigating to be a source of antibodies, but, from what they’d heard, many had been sick at the same time.
Of course, it might not have been their bug, but if it was then there were survivors among the castle folk. And those survivors could help the colonists survive.
She’d almost reached the damned thing when the woman who’d escorted her upstairs burst into the room, crossed it briskly, and snatched the drinking vessel up. She jumped when she turned to leave and spied Lauren, frozen halfway across. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously on the kit Lauren was carrying and Lauren didn’t doubt she would be reporting her strange behavior to Rama as quickly as she could. “They’ll be servin’ the evening meal shortly. His highness expects you to be seated beside him.”
Lauren struggled to feign pleasure. “I should go and change then,” she said cheerfully.
The woman looked her up and down. “Might consider wearing more than you have on at the moment if you don’t want to entertain all of the men.”
Lauren looked down at herself and blushed.
She hadn’t actually had the chance to change or felt any great need to after she’d removed her hazmat suit in the great hall in front of everyone. There hardly seemed any point in putting it back on when she’d been taken directly to his suite and left there.
Well, except for the fact that she’d been chilled, but she had a damned limited wardrobe with her.
“Am I allowed to use the kings bathing chamber?”
The woman looked taken aback. “I suppose. You are here as his guest.”
Meaning she didn’t really know for certain? Or was she pretending she didn’t just to get Lauren in trouble?
She would’ve been inclined to believe the woman had no motive, but that was because she wasn’t accustomed to politics. She was a scientist—a lab assistant—and she’d never actually gotten used to the politics scientists had to deal with.
This was a whole other animal, but she thought it would be safe to assume that the Uti would be at least as prejudiced against them as vice versa.
So it didn’t absolutely have to be a personal dislike to motivate the woman. It would be sufficient that she was ‘different’.
She thought, maybe, it would be safe to test it, though. It seemed that Rama was down in the great hall waiting for his dinner and unlikely to pop in on her.
When the woman left, Lauren hurried to put her kit away.
To her consternation there was no lock on either door that led into the bath. That made taking a dip far less appealing, but she finally compromised by climbing into the water in her panties and t-top.
The water was nearly scalding, but it felt wonderful! She hadn’t realized how battered she felt from her ‘trip’ until she got in, but by the time she got out the aches had eased. She felt drained from the heat, but far more relaxed than she’d felt since she’d left the colony for the mountain kingdom of Rama.
Chapter Four
Unfortunately, Lauren’s tension wasn’t banished long. She began to tense up again as soon as she’d dragged out the costume she’d been supplied with to perform in. Struggling to dismiss the uneasiness that gathered in her belly as soon as she put it on, she dug around in her bag until she found the tiny player that would provide the actual music and song she would ‘perform’ by lip syncing and pinned it to the shoulder of the scooped neck, high-waisted gown.
It wasn’t just in the style of the Proushtans. It wasn’t even fashioned out of the same materials they used for their clothing, but it was as close an approximation as they could manage at the colony.
It wa
sn’t as if the Uti weren’t well aware that she was alien to their world.
Well, she supposed they might not realize that, but they certainly knew the colonists were different!
They wouldn’t … couldn’t expect her to dress and act as if she was one of them.
She didn’t think.
Despite her nervousness, it didn’t take her long to get ready.
As she finished her preparations for the evening it occurred to her to wonder if there was any possibility she could contact the command center and give them her first report while she had a few moments alone.
The castle was built of thick stone and it seemed very doubtful that any sort of signals would penetrate efficiently or even at all. That had, in point of fact, been an issue that wasn’t really resolved that everyone, especially her, had been concerned about. It had been left as ‘to be resolved on site’.
She tried anyway, more anxious to make sure they knew she wouldn’t be able to return using the life-pod than to simply do the check-in report to reassure the people at the command center. The response was mostly static so she moved to the huge window the room boasted and tried again. Again, the response was a burst of static, but as she began to turn away, she spotted a railing of some sort just beyond the window. Shoving the heavy curtain back, she discovered there was a mock balcony maybe as much as a foot deep, but the scrape of a shoe as she was examining the window for a way to open it brought her around with a guilty jerk.
It was no comfort to see that it was the old battle ax that had been following her since she’d arrived—come to collect her since she had failed to show herself in a timely manner.
Bracing herself, she left the room and moved briskly down the wide hallway and then started down the stairs that led down into the great hall—where everyone had gathered.
She paused only a few steps down to take in the milling throng with far more uneasiness and dismay than she’d felt at any point before.
She’d never been good with crowds and she absolutely hated being the center of attention.
While she hesitated, struggling with the urge to flee back to the room and crawl under the bed, Rama looked up and spotted her. The moment he did, it seemed to set off a chain reaction.