🔥🔥 The Captain's Slave part 21 🔥🔥

Previously…

I will ride Malik in the middle of the camp like my life depends on it.

I heard U'ani's challenge, and I will answer it. Because if there's one thing she and her entertainer friends need to understand, it's that I'm no little bitch.

PRESENTLY

MALIK

It feels odd to run laps around the camp with the other masters. Our footsteps fell in sync, kicking up a cloud of dust.

Entertainers watch from a distance.

I thought I wouldn't experience this again when I retired. I didn't realize I would miss it this much.

Once we're done training, we disperse. I search for General War for our scheduled meeting. I plan on telling him about the flesh markets that Grace has reported. War must investigate them. I doubt he knows how widespread the problem is. For years, the camp focused on civil war and keeping invaders from looting the cities. Slavery was already declared illegal. It wasn't supposed to be a problem that required military intervention.

But it will end if it's the last thing I do. I feel like I owe this to Grace after all she has gone through. She knows firsthand how traumatic it is.

I search for her. I didn't speak with her this morning because I awoke early to train. I kissed her hair and left her tucked in bed, warm and relaxed from the orgasm I gave her last night.

I duck into my tent and find her unpacking our bags. Folding clothes and setting them on a table.

"Grace," I say, stepping into the room and embracing her from behind. "How did you sleep?"

"Hmm…you smell like the earth."

"I was training with the men. I'll bathe later today. I have a few things to do around camp, including meeting with War. Will you be alright?"

"Yes, I will." She touches my forearm, which is wrapped around her waist, and caresses it.

"How will you spend the day?" I ask her.

"I'm not sure. I'll likely stay indoors."

"You're welcome to go out and meet people. Make friends? I think the females are having a fireside chat tomorrow."

"I doubt I have much in common with the entertainers," she replies. Her tone clipped.

And she's right. Not many entertainers will approach her unless they're asked to do so. 

"Just try?" I insist.

"Alright. I will."

Something is bothering her, but I assume it has to do with yesterday's conversation and her assumptions about my relationship with Joan. Maybe she feels embarrassed that she was utterly wrong. Or perhaps she's concerned about me and my attachment issues.

It doesn't matter. Moving to this camp was a huge change. There's no more privacy. The tent is paper-thin. And we share this camp with a hundred other people with their own desires and expectations. It will take time to adjust to this new lifestyle.

I'm just grateful that U'ani had the sense not to approach Grace. To not reveal that she was my previous lover and that the rest of the entertainers are looking at Grace expectantly, waiting for her to prove herself to them.

Absolute nonsense. Grace has done more than enough to prove herself. She survived slavery and offered herself to let others escape. No entertainer in this camp can say the same. And while I'm grateful to them for their valiant contributions to the military, there is a reason none of them were able to capture my heart. U'ani included. Her beauty and wit were not enough for me.

"That's my female." I kiss her hair again and step backward. "Keep your head up. Make sure to have dinner later. Don't wait for me."

I love you.

The words are on the tip of my tongue, but I can't bring myself to say it. I don't know why. But it makes me want to slam my face into the bark of a tree. I don't want to be this way with Grace. Broken like I used to be with Joan. Grace deserves better. She needs me to assure her of my affection for her; I can feel it. Worshiping her body is one thing, but I know she wants more.

I leave her in the tent, muttering curses as I walk away.

I move past another entertainer that I fucked a few times. She looks at me with a small smirk on her face, one too crooked to be a friendly smile. One I respond to with a scowl.

Why are all the women from my past crawling out of the woodwork? Why do they make moves on me when I have taken Grace into my tent–something I've never done before. Is it not clear that I only want her?

No. It's just a game to these entertainers.

I can only pray that Grace doesn't notice the relentless attention I am getting because she will indeed feel wronged.

I search for War and find him inside the war tent. I step inside and spot Joan standing beside him as they hover over a map.

She straightens and smiles at me. "Malik. Welcome home."

I nod. Grunting a, "thank you. I am glad to see you well."

She kisses War's cheek and walks around the table to leave the tent.

I'm glad there is no tension between us. That she holds no grudge after I retired and left tent without saying goodbye.

Maybe I couldn't be her friend, but perhaps Grace could be. Perhaps our children could play together in the future. The universe works in strange ways.

"Malik," speaks War. "What can I do for you?"

"We need to finish a conversation. Grace gave me a lot of information about flesh markets, and I think we need to start investigating these places. Put some men on the ground."

"So do as you wish," War says. "Gather a group of masters and investigate."

I stare at him. "This may take months of resources. Do you understand?"

"Yes," he replies. "But I trust you. You don't have to seek my approval for such simple things, Malik. You were a high-ranking officer before you retired. Nothing has changed."

"This is not a simple thing," I argue.

He extends his arms. "Benefits me. I am trying to hand this camp to you, remember? If you want to start projects here before you step up to the role, then so be it."

I exhale. "I don't get it. Why me, War? Why are you so hellbent on handing this camp to me?"

"Because when Joan left me, and I was spiraling, you were the only cursed bastard brave enough to abandon your duties and get her back. Because you think of unconventional solutions. Because you have skin in the game. If you want Grace to be safe from the law, you need as much power as possible. There's no beating a General."

He's right, but I don't want him to be. A camp is too big of a responsibility. I thought this phase of my life was over.

"Think about it," he says before walking away.

I groan and sit on a stool, grabbing fresh parchment and paper to organize my thoughts. I write down names of masters to enlist for the investigation, dates of travel, and materials we will need. Then I left the tent to speak with the healer about the medication supply for any slaves we were free. There will undoubtedly be injuries.

By the time I'm done running my rounds, it's the evening, and my stomach growls with hunger.

I search for Grace but don't see her lingering outside, so I figure she must be in our tent.

I find her sitting outside on a stump. Right where I was sitting the previous night when I was speaking with U'ani.

Her elbows are on her thighs, and her hands are clasped. Her hair looks wet like she just bathed. And she wears a new hide dress that I've never seen before.

"Grace," I say as I stand beside her. "Did you eat?"

"Yes," she replies. "I stopped by the kitchens and then asked a master to bring in a tub. The water is still warm."

"Did anything exciting happen today?"

She purses her lips, staring at me for a while. "Not yet?"

"Well, did you approach anyone?"

"I tried," she shrugs. "The entertainers looked at me like I was a lost little critter. Not one of them."

Damn it, she's catching onto their indifference.

"Don't worry. You will find a friend, eventually."

"I overheard you last night, Malik. When you were speaking with that woman. U'ani."

My hands clench. Fuck. I thought she was asleep, and we were muttering low enough to mask our conversation.

So this is what she was upset about.

"It didn't mean anything."

"She said I have to prove myself like Joan did."

I drag a hand through my hair, frustrated. "Why does this matter?"

"Because you're staying in this camp for the long run. You're going to become the General, aren't you? You've made up your mind. I can sense it when you're staring at the distance, thinking deeply. You will be a General, and I am…not playing any part. How can I stand next to you if I never move on from being some slave girl? Not respected by other females."

"You don't have to play any parts," I counter. "Just stand beside me. The entertainers will listen to me if I demand that they include you in their culture and respect–"

"No," she interjects. A rare thing that she hardly dares to do.

She sits up and parts her legs, her skirt lifting slightly up her thighs. Revealing to me that she's not wearing any underwear and her pussy is bare and ripe for the taking.

"Grace," I snarl, yanking her to her feet and dragging her skirt down.

Entertainers and masters walk behind us, going about their business. But I'll be damned if anyone gets a look at her; of what's mine.

She keeps her little infuriating chin perched high. "I want you to do it. Fuck me under the sun."

"It's not your nature!" I snarl. "You're no entertainer!"

"I thought I told you not to underestimate me," she says before rising and cupping the back of my neck, pulling me into a kiss that I will never have the strength to resist.

I kiss her how I feel. Angrily. Because she's not fucking behaving.

Our tongues tangle, and my cocks rise behind my hide pants, pressing against the material uncomfortably. Grace grinds her hips against me, groaning into my mouth. Losing herself in the sensations so easily that she tunes out the camp's background. She is so lost in her passion that she only cares about sitting on a cock or two.

She's a natural, like any entertainer. Sensual and seductive.

Her lips are so tender. They make me think of her pussy when it's swollen against my mouth, flushed and dripping wet as my tongue twisted and dug into her. I miss that taste. I salivate at the thought of her slick. Thickened, tangy, and viscous. Like syrup. Engaging thousands of taste buds on my tongue and sperm in my balls.

She tugs at the ties on my pants. And I groan into her mouth because I know I'm going to give her what she wants.

I'm going to fuck her out where everyone, even U'ani, can watch.

I grab her by the thighs and lift her, wrapping her legs around my waist before digging between us, stroking her bare pussy so hard that I can hear the wet flesh crakling. Sloppy, filthy, delicious pussy that I want to slobber all over my face.

I pull at the ties of my pants, releasing my upper cock. My heart races, and my cocks pulse in beat to it. My lips pant against Grace's, lost in the thrill of our sin.

I never imagined I'd first fuck her under the sunlight, but Grace has spoken. And she gets what she wants. So if she wants cock, then she's going to receive every fat, erect inch I've got to offer.

I set her back against the hide of our tent, hiding her ass and pussy from the world. Refusing to let anyone see what's mine.

Grace drags her nails across my back rebelliously, moaning as I press my tip against her. She wants more. She wants me to show her to the world, but there's no need to. Everyone will get the idea that she's plugged full of cock when she's bouncing in my arms, face flushed, and hair rowdy.

I press inside her, roaring to the sky when her walls strangle my cock. The elasticity of her entrance is punishingly tight. But she's wet for me. She is so eager that she's dripping down my balls. I don't think I've ever found her this wet. She likes this. Likes the thought of others knowing what I'm doing to her. Likes them watch me as I mark her.

I slide in slowly, muttering feverishly. My brow furrows as I try not to rush and hurt her. She takes me like a champion. Legs tightly wrapped around me. Lips parted wide and pressed against my cheek. Breathing through it, letting our bodies merge. 

And it feels so right inside her. Like she was made just for me.

I begin to thrust. Slowly, at first.

My teeth bite her bottom lip to punish her. Because why the fuck does she fit so tightly? She has no business feeling so good, threatening to make me combust inside her at record speed.

But I can't cum yet. She wants a performance, and I will deliver.

I find a pace, gradually feeding it more speed and force. I bend my knees, my pants half-down my ass as I pound into her. The tent threatens to collapse as I press her against it and nail her into the hide.

She bounces in my arms, hanging on to me for dear life as I devastate her. Her braid falls apart under my relentless thrusts, her teeth clatter, and her moans stutter.

I compose a rhythmic plop-plop-plop as my hips smack against hers. Her pussy is stretched with every thrust, getting trained. Getting shaped to my girth. Accepting my signature on her body in the most primal way possible because no other male on this camp has my size.

I notice an entertainer watching from my peripheral vision, but no master is stupid enough to tune into the show.

I fuck her until her pussy is puffy and swollen, just like I like it, and then I hold her up with one arm and reach between us to pinch and tweak her lips, stroking her sex with four fingers as I drag my teeth across her neck and my cock deep inside her. 

She cums for the world to hear. Loud and animalistic.

And I take deep pleasure in bottoming out and spilling my cum in her guts. Panting against her neck as my cock and her pussy pulse simultaneously, and rumors of our fresh fuck begin to circulate around the camp.

READ PART 22>

A/N: What do you have to say now, U'ani? Fuck you!