🔥 The Captain's Slave part 16

Previously…

"You have two options," he says with that tow-curling deep voice of his. He skips the pleasantries, going straight to his mysteriousness.

"Oh?" I reply.

"You can either slide into my arms and let me eat your cunt, or you can go about your day," he says nonchalantly.

His words knock all sleep out of me. He awakes me instantly.

I blink rapidly, my fists clench, and I bite my lip as I say, "The first option, please."

PRESENTLY

MALIK

She sleeps like an angel.

I’ve never been very religious. I believe in the gods, but don’t often call for them. I take care of myself; I obtain what I want and destroy what I don't. I don't depend on any man to provide for me; mortal or not.

But right now, as I watch Grace sleep, I might just pray to the gods and my ancestors to thank them for crafting her.

She is breathtaking.

When she awakens and bids me a good morning, I don’t entertain the small talk. I jump right to what I want; which is to spend my morning between her legs.

I make my offer to devour her sweet little cunt, and she accepts.

Her shyness makes my desire spike. I dive under the furs and go hunting for her smooth, supple thighs. Gripping them in greedy hands before propping myself between them and dipping under Grace’s skirt.

I breathe into her at first, letting her feel my warmth. Blowing hot air into her clenching pussy that’s desperate for my cock.

Good girl.

It’s dark under the furs, but I can see that her belly is heaving. Seeing how powerful of an effect I have on her makes my heart stir in ways it hasn’t before.

I deliver my promise with ferosity. I lock my lips on her soaking wet, aching pussy, and I suck in a rhythm I’ve never used before. There’s no tongue. Only strong pulses of my lips that make her thighs lick around my head. I suck until her sweet heat is slipping down the back of my throat, feeding me the most delicious breakfast I’ve had in a while.

Grace is a great cook, but this morning, she has outdone herself.

She squeezes my head with her thighs and sways her hips as her moans fill my bedroom and her wetness smears on my stubbled beard.

She cries out as she orgasms, her pussy clenching against my lips so powerfully that I nearly jump to my knees and bury one of my cocks in her searing, fluttering, sloppy wet sex.

I only hold back because of the fear that I would hurt her. She’s not ready to take me yet. I’d need to prepare her by fingering her tight little pussy for an entire evening, until her slick drips down my forearm.

“Ancestors, why are you so good at that?” she moans as I rise from under the furs.

I should tell her that my skill doesn’t come from practice. I was not a selfish lover to the camp entertainers when I lived among them, but I’ve never set my lips on another female’s sex. I fucked entertainers thorougly, but my lips have only met Grace’s pussy.

But I suppose that fact does not matter.

I open my lips to reply, but an obnoxious shout comes from outside: “The owner of this property is hereby summoned by his Honor Letus of the High Court of Zolan!”

“What the fuck?” I grit as I roll from the bed and walk to the window.

There’s a suicidal idiot in a robe outside. A clerk who dares to summonme. 

“Stay in bed,” I snarl as I stomp outside bare naked, my erections deflecting as I walk away from Grace and get blinded by fury.

Who the fuck is this asinine asshole? I own this land, and no one is welcome without my saying. It looks like I’ll be digging a second grave in this land to bury another body.

“You!” I shout. “How fucking dare you tresspass!”

I almost regret not grabbing my sword. But my fists have never failed me, They’re perfectly capable of decapitation.

“I–” the clerk clears his throat as my raging, naked body stomps down the porch like a demon from the underworld.

“I have been sent by the court to present you with a summons.” He extends a piece of parchment with his trembling hand.

I snatch it, ripping a piece of it, and I quickly read it.

I’m being accused of assaulting and hospitalizing a noble man at the market, and kidnapping his servant girl and Grace’s friend, Kitto. Of course this report is incorrect. Kitto was a slave, but slavery is illegal, so her owner reported her as a servant.

They won’t find Kitto. I freed her, and she’s long gone. They will want to pin her disappearance on me and classify it as kidnapping.

If I were a common man, I would have fallen deep into their claws and been found liable for these crimes. But I’m not a common man. I’m not even on the playing field of these clerks in fancy robes and nobles with their entourage of slaves and servants.

I’m above them.

I crumple the summons and drop it at the clerk’s feet.

“I do not answer to your fucking judge.”

“Nonsense! You are not above the law, sir! No matter how much land you own.”

“Watch your fucking tone. You’re speaking to a tier five officer of the Zolan military. I report to General War. Forward your bullshit summons to him, and I will adhere to the laws of the military.”

Of course, he doesn’t need to know that I’m retired. It doesn’t matter, because there wouldn’t be a punishment whether or not I was still in the camp. War wouldn’t dream of prosecuring me. He trusts my judgement so much that the man begged me to be his successor.

I’m glad I denied his offer, because my journey led me to Grace.

The clerk is speechless. I’m sure he has delivered thousands of these summons, but never met someone with the backbone to shove the parchment down his throat.

“Well…well....” he stammers.

“Get the fuck off my property. Now.” 

“I will verify these claims! And I will clear your territory, sir, but not without that girl.”

He points behind me, and I spin. I find Grace peeking out of the door.

“What?” I snarl.

He licks his trembling lips. “She is wanted by the court as well. She is undocumented. And given that she is certainly not in the military, she is very much under my jurisdiction.”

“You will not fucking take her! Get out before I cut your legs off and send you crawling home!” I shout.

He stumbles backward. “If you insist on protecting her, the authorities will be here this evening to collect her!”

“GO!”

He picks up his robe and takes off running, and I growl as I watch him go. 

Fuck. Fuck!

Ancestors know what they will want to interrogate Grace about. She witnessed me murder her slaver and assault another.

She’s delicate. I don’t trust anyone, especially the fucking law, to protect her. They couldn’t even protect her from slavery.

But the clerk was right. She cannot report to General War, because she has never stepped foot in a military camp.

I cannot protect her as her master. I cannot protect her as a lover.

“Grace!” I shout as I run for the house. “Get dressed! We’re going to court and getting fucking married.”

I can certainly protect her as my wife.

READ PART 17>