The Captain's Slave part 15

Previously...

MALIK

“Be at ease. Nothing will happen tonight. I just…”

I just need to hold you.

I sigh and rub my temples. I can’t tell her that. Of course I can’t.

“Report to my bed, you little spitfire. Enough questions and sass.”

She lowers her head. “Yes, sir.”

PRESENTLY...

GRACE

I sit on the edge of Malik's bed with my back straight like a schoolgirl about to get beaten with a ruler. When I was at the orphanage as a child, I became well-acquainted with the sting of rulers.

But I'm afraid the only ruler Malik offers is far thicker and longer by many inches than the traditional one.

Remembering that I didn't finish cleaning up the dishes, I rose from the bed. I curse for getting distracted by Malik.

The door creaks open, and Malik appears. His shoulders are almost too wide to fit the door frame.

"Why are you not in bed yet?" he asks, leering like a disappointed boss. But I've learned not to be intimidated by him. He's a gentle male; at least to me.

"I forgot to tidy up in the kitchen," I say. "Excuse me. I'll be back shortly."

"It's late," he replies. "You can tend to it in the morning."

"Oh, but we'll get pests if I leave the dirty dishes."

"I'm a hunter. Pests are no challenge."

Ancestors, save me. There is no escaping this bedroom.

I don't even know why he wants me here. We've never shared a bed before. The furthest we've gotten to me laying with him is when I was kneeling on the grass, sucking his cocks, earlier today.

I lower my head and drag the tip of my tongue across the seam of my lips, thinking of how he tasted.

Malik closes the door and walks around to the other side of his bed. I hear cloth shuffling and assume that he is stripping down.

Something drops beside me. I glance at it and see that it's a short-sleeved cotton tunic. One I've never seen Malik wear before.

"You may wear that," he says.

I'd much rather use my own nightgowns. The skirts are long enough to cover my legs.

"I can–I can go get my own clothes."

"It's just for tonight," he insists. "I have a feeling you'll run for the hills if I let you out of this room. Relax. I won't lift a finger to you."

He won't lift a finger, but I know from experience how high those cocks of his can lift.

"Alright," I whisper, turning to ensure he adverts his eyes as I change into his tunic.

It's much too large on my frame, the cut sleeves revealing the side of my breasts. I slip under the thick fur blanket, eager to hide from Malik.

When I glance over at him, I quickly regret it when I see just how much he stripped off.

He's nude. The man is sleeping nude.

He sits on the other side of the master bed, slipping the blanket over his lap. I suddenly don't feel so safe under the blanket now that we're both beneath it.

Reaching over to his nightstand, he exhausts the lantern. Only the moonlight streaming from the open window gives me a hint of his silhouette.

"What are you thinking of?" comes his deep voice, so powerful that it disturbs the night.

Refusing to admit that I'm thinking of his nudity, I quickly think of a topic.

"Would you be scared?" I whisper. "If you lived alone on the territory, in this isolated house, would you be afraid?"

"Afraid of what?"

"Of…lurking beasts, or axe-wielding madmen, or the supernatural that prey on the lonely."

He sighs. "I…do not think this way, Seven. It's hard to fear anything when a swing of my sword could split a tree in half."

"Grace," I whisper.

"What?"

"I'm not Seven anymore. I'm Grace, remember?"

He's silent for a while, thinking of my words. I wonder if he's pleased that I've accepted the name he gave me.

I…like it. It's a beautiful name. A beautiful dream. I am not graceful; my upbringing was far from noble, and my manners were crude. My Ancestors and Malik know firsthand how ill-tempered I am.

"I'm happy to hear that."

"What does your name mean, Malik?"

"Hmm…it means mighty."

The name suits him. It's perfect for him. He is the mightiest man I've ever met.

"Sleep," he says. "Tomorrow, we will start preparing for our travel."

"Travel?"

"Well, you wanted to come with me to the slave market, didn't you?"

I jump up, elated. He seemed so hellbent on denying my company that I was sure he wouldn't change his mind.

My hand rests on his chest as I cheerfully ask, "Do you really mean it? You're taking me with you?"

"Woman…" he grumbles. A warning to get the hell away from his very nude body.

"I'm sorry," I say as I yank my hand away and return to my side of the bed.

"Goodnight, Grace."

My heart stirs. This is the first time he used my new name. It rolls off his tongue so sweetly.

I blush as I remember that tongue rolling all over my spread thighs.

I want more of that. I want to ask him where our relationship stands, but I'm afraid he'll put me down. That he'll tell me I'm his whore. Only capable of offering him carnal pleasure and no emotional value.

I want more. I want to be his friend because I sense depth beneath those layers of armor he keeps around his demeanor. I know he's capable of smiling and laughing.

But I fear that I will recklessly self-destruct what we have if I ask him. I have a tendency of ruining things and screwing myself over. I don't want to do that, so I will keep my mouth shut.

I lay on my side and stare out the window. The bed is incredibly comfortable; the pile of furs beneath me are plush and clean. I never thought I'd get to rest here. I thought I'd sleep chained for the rest of my life, but Malik freed me.

Malik sleeps on his back, his arms flat beside him and his legs straight. He looks like an alert soldier, even in his sleep.

Mighty.

I close my eyes, my body relaxed except for my lips which still feel swollen from my earlier activities.

I giggle, enjoying this new version of me. This free, wild, sexual woman.

I want to get to know her better.

– • –

The first thing I see when I awake the next morning is Malik. He's staring at me, watching me sleep.

It takes me a moment to register his expression. I rub my sleepy eyes and pull the blanket up my chest.

"Malik? Good day." I yawn. "Did you get any sleep?"

Outside, rain lightly falls. The room feels cool.

"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."

A/N: MORE SMUT NEXT CHAPTER

READ PART 16>