The Captain’s Slave part 18

Previously…

And I’ve heard the rumors. The only other job for women at a military camp is entertaining. Bending over for any passerby to let him screw them. I’ve got respect for these women that service the soldiers, but I could never be one of them. I don’t have the backbone to bend over and take the blows of a stranger’s hips.

For a second, I wonder what would have happened if I said yes. If I became Malik’s bride.

I guess I won’t be finding out.

PRESENTLY…

MALIK

Grace and I make quick work of packing lightly for the trip back to the camp.

This is surreal. I thought I would never return to the camp after retiring. I retired home to find who I am. What makes me tick. And what does life without numbing medication feel like.

I didn’t even say goodbye to Joan. She resents me, I’m sure. And War surely will be shocked to see me after I rejected the empire he offered me.

Grace packs her bag as I examine the changes I’ve made around the place. The doors I’ve fixed, roof leaks I patched, and the many unfinished projects throughout. I was turning this haunted old house into my home. I was bringing warmth to it with every touch I exchanged with Grace.

I admit that I am stubborn, but I’m not an idiot. I was imagining a future with her. In this large house with misery etched into every hole and raised boards.

Slaves were kept here—this I know. But I freed them and I opened the windows to allow the sun and new beginnings to enter.

And now my dream of retirement is up in flames. I must return to the war that took so much from me and wound me up in confusion and angst.

I was proud to serve in the military, but I had served for so many years that I lost who I was. And now I will not get a chance to retire. Because now, for some asinine reason, I’m determined to serve Grace.

Fight for her. Protect her. I cannot do it from this vulnerable plot of land.

I glance out the window often. The law is coming for Grace. We’re running out of time.

“Grace!” I shout for her from the porch with squeaking boards I never got to fix.

“I’m coming!” She replies.

I leave the house as it is. I didn’t remove any furniture or board up any windows, leaving it vulnerable to thieves and weather. But none of it matters. It’s all replaceable. The house can be ripped from its foundation and taken to the skies by angry winds for all I care.

I will return one day, but my gut tells me it won’t be for a long time. Retirement is not calling my name. The battlefield is.

Grace appears flustered and panting, a satchel swung over her back.

I grab the reins of my beast and tug him close, the sword sheathed at my side dangling heavily. Sharpened and hungry for flesh.

“Get on. We’re going to have to ride hard and fast, but I’ll be right behind you. I will not let you slip. Do you trust me?”

She nods quickly. Eyes shiny with emotion. Something mine lack because I’m too used to adrenaline and the thrill of a battle.

“Let’s go,” I say as I grab her by the hips and lift her.

The same hips I clung to as I lapped at her pussy on the dining table. Memories that I will relive as I beat my cock in my tent.

I swing behind Grace and take off. Riding toward War’s camp. To the only home I had for years.

My eyes stray to the vast wilderness that’s closing in on us, searching for leather and silver. For men that want to take the female in my arms, pressed so tightly against me that I hope this journey never fucking ends.

Her hair tickles my chin and neck, and her scent swirls into my nostrils in constant waves. Beckoning me. Seducing me.

I don’t know what it is about her. Why I’m giving up my retirement to protect a woman with the audacity to reject my marriage proposal.

I’m wealthy and in my prime, and yet she said no. It makes me fucking want her more. The insane little thing.

I’m going to devour her pussy on the first dining table I locate.

I focus on my surroundings as I mitigate my desire and insane thoughts. Looking for anyone tailing us. My body relaxes with every minute on the road.

Grace is tense in my arms. Her body violently bouncing with every gallop as mine remains sturdy around her. We will have to stop soon to let her rest. Her thighs are not used to riding and will tire and chafe.

But not now. As much as I hate it, I must push her to her limits in order to put distance between us and the territory. The ride back to camp will take days.

A few hours later, when I notice that Graces’ nails are about to break from how hard she’s digging them into the saddle, I pull us to a stop.

“Here,” I say as I swing off and instantly reach for her hips.

She groans as soon as I grab her, legs wobbly when I set her down. She keeps her hands on my biceps as if needing me for balance.

“Ancestors,” she moans and rolls her neck.

My groin tightens, and I recognize this is going to be a long fucking trip.

—

That night, I stay on high alert as Grace sleeps by a small fire.

I occasionally glance at her, obsessed with the way the flames glow on her smooth skin.

I still can't believe I’m here. Running as a fugitive to protect the slave girl that meant nothing to me a few weeks ago.

Joan, the only other human female I’ve met, couldn’t get under my skin even as a friend, but Grace uprooted my very foundation.

I want her so badly. But not only her small, lithe body. I want her mind. Her witty lips. I want her fucking children to share my name

“Down, boy.” I mutter to myself.

My beast whines, thinking that I’m talking to him. Not understanding that I’m chastising myself for being a fool.

I need to slow the fuck down.

I don’t sleep that night. And Grace is exhausted when I wake her a few hours later and lead her back to the saddle.

We repeat this pattern for the next few nights. Setting up camp under the canopy, and daydreaming foolish things as Grace sleeps by the fire.

I need to beat my cocks, but not now. I can’t afford a distraction. I keep my guard up for every waking minute.

I’m sure entertainers at camp will pick up on my unease and offer their…services. And I wonder how that will play out. I had many lovers when I was in the military. Faces I can barely remember. But Grace will crime across them regardless if I remember them or not. How will she feel about that?

My head snaps left when I hear a branch snap. My hand yanks my sword from its sheath.

There’s nothing in the darkness. Just a critter. I’m getting paranoid and irritable from the lack of sleep. I’ve been awake for too many nights and now I’m starting to see shapes in the shadows.

I shake my head and sheathe my sword. We have to make it to camp by morning, no matter what.

—

As we approach the camp’s gates, masters scramble to spread the message that an unknown rider approaches. The gates remain sealed shut.

I come to a stop and dismount, helping Grace to her feet.

“Call General War,” I speak to the wooden gates, knowing the masters can hear me through them.

“Malik? Is that you?”

I blow a breath, relieved that they can recognize my voice and we can skip this stand-off.

“I’m back,” I reply to Exert, a master I’ve smoked pipe with many times in the past.

The gates are pulled open and three masters step forward, all looking surprised to see me. That’s saying something, considering that masters are not known for showing much emotion. The numbing medication makes it hard to feel much.

My beast is taken inside by one of the masters and Grace stays close by. Her hands clasped and her head lowered as I take the lead.

“Surprised to see you here,” says Exert. “I thought you were done.”

I walk forward. “Had to make sure you fools didn’t burn yourselves to the ground without me.”

Exert smiles faintly. “You were never one to make jokes, Malik. What happened?”

I shrug as I walk past him. Grace is at my heels. She’s the reason for my changes.

I don’t make it far before War comes barreling over a corner, looking at me like I was raised from the dead.

“Malik!” He exhales, briefly glancing at Grace.

“General,” I address him respectfully.

“You’re back. I thought you were…” he shakes his head. “Didn’t you retire?”

“I’m here to negotiate. My service among your ranks in exchange for shelter for me and Grace. She’s wanted by the law. I don’t want them near her.”

He scans Grace. And I know he won’t have many questions about why the law is after her. Not only does War trust my judgment, but he’ll be desperate to keep me in his ranks. Foaming at the mouth for the opportunity to convince me to be his successor as General. A generous promotion I denied weeks ago.

“Of course. Will Grace join us as an entertainer?”

I grumble with a growl and glare at the General, taking a threatening step forward.

Grace flinches beside me.

I’m being disrespectful and reckless. Things I’ve never been in the past. I always recognized War as an authority. Now? I don’t give a fuck. Not when it comes to Grace.

War is a smart man. He was testing my attachment to Grace. And he got his answer. It doesn’t matter. I don’t plan on hiding my possessiveness over her from anyone.

War stares at me for a while. The air becomes tense.

“I’ll make space for her as a servant, then. Come. We will have to talk in private. Don’t worry, I’ll have some entertainers look after…Grace, and show her to a tent.”

“Take her to my old tent. We will be sharing it.”

“I’m afraid your old tent is occupied by another master.”

“Not anymore,” I reply before I turn to Grace. “Will you be alright?”

She nods, glancing around camp with wide eyes. Taking in the bustling of masters and entertainers. Barely clad women and armored warriors. The sounds and loud chatter must be overwhelming for her.

But I can’t soothe her yet. War and I have many things to discuss.

Seeing a master staring at Grace from a distance, I extend my arms and shout, “I hope you’re looking at me. Otherwise, you ought to pray to your fucking ancestors.”

“Malik,” speaks War. “I cannot have you fighting my masters.”

I’m irritable from a lack of sleep. Jealous and on edge.

“Come on, War. We both know you want me here more badly than I need your protection. Let’s not forget how a few weeks ago, you begged me to retire you. Let’s go to a tent. Let’s talk.”

READ PART 18>