Well, I know I said I'd keep flashes to 2-3 chapters max, but I'm kind of hooked on this one, so I´m breaking my own rules and continuing this story for the time being. Last week, it all ended with this line: “Did Salec not tell you to enter and keep your eyes to the floor, Kamaira?”
(You can read the full chapter here)
The prompt I've used today was: "Kneel before me and..."
Hand of Fate: 3
Every cell in her body softened at the sound of his voice. She´d never heard anything like it. Deep like the roar of a Virku, the golden yellow wild cat that roamed their lands and killed their babes. Yet, also mellow like the grey fur of the fat rodents that hid in the bushes waiting for nightfall to steal their food.
"Kneel before me and keep your eyes to the floor, Kamaira."
Though there was no threat or anger in his softly spoken words, she hurried to obey.
"Lest, you prefer to do other things for me."
The hairs on her arms stood on end, his sexual innuendo clear as the light of day. Her gaze darted toward his crotch. The bulge in his firm fitting trousers was unmistakable. She swallowed.
"Salivating already, Kamaira?" He chuckled darkly. She bit down on her lip, touched her forehead to the ground and closed her eye, willing the desire to evaporate. If only she could shut her ears. She heard the rustle of his clothes as he moved. His footsteps, barely audible against the carpet as he approached her. A shiver racked her body. Shame burned her cheeks. She'd heard of the power the pointy eared lords wielded, but she'd never expected this. She'd never imagined that his voice and only his voice could cause her body to revolt against her mind. She'd never contemplated the idea that his presence could push her into submission.
No Fear, no tears, Mayra. No fear. No tears. She repeated the mantra in her head as his shadow fell over her from behind. Don't let them see that you are affected. Don't let them win. She tasted blood in her mouth as gentle fingers traced the column of her spine.
Juices coated the inside of her thighs. No fear. No fear. Gods, if only this simple touch could do this to her, how was she to survive? She'd always believed they had an option. She thought that they could fight back. That they could rebel against them in some way. She was no longer certain that was possible.
"What is your name, Kamaira?" he whispered against her ear, his warm breath sending erotic tingles across every pore in her body. She screwed her eyes shut. She would fight. She'd promised Miope and her mother that she would fight.
The order was unmistakable but in the crudely spoken word so was her position. To him, she was nothing more than a slave. The Uraima and their Lords, the Ilaildar, only wanted the Kamaira for one thing: as slaves. In the field or in their beds, the location was indifferent as long as they obeyed.
"Her name is Mayra, my Lord."
She recognized the voice of the Uraima that had handpicked her. She'd failed to hear him enter. “Fear not, little one, I will keep you alive.” The words he'd whispered earlier to her came crashing back bringing tears to her eyes. Alive? How? How was he going to keep her from going mad? Could she even trust him?
To be continued...
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