Gena Showalter - The Pleasure Slave

He continued on, telling her of all the guan rens who had emotionally scarred him with their cruelty. He described horrors such as she'd never imagined, terrors done to this strong, proud man whose only sin was his beauty. She listened to his every word, trying, hoping, to absorb some of his pain into herself.

"In the end," he said, "I lost my will to fight. I simply accepted what was done to me and expected it. My only control was the pleasure I could give and the way I responded."

"You are not a pleasure slave anymore," she said softly. "You are a man, Julia's man, and I am your woman."

"Julia—" he said, his tone laced with regret.

"No. Don't deny my words or tell me that you are what Zirra made you, that what we have can't last. I know differently."

"We can prevent the box from being stolen, but we cannot prevent time from passing. I will never age, never die. And you will, Julia. You will."

"What if—what if you loved me? The spell would be broken and you would be mortal. Just like me."

"Oh, that I could, sweet dragon. But I do not and I will not love you."

She fought back tears.

"Why?" The word was broken, hoarse, "Am I so unlovable?"

"Nay," he said fiercely, taking her hands in his. "Never think such a thing. You are the most precious woman I have ever encountered. But if I love you, I will lose you. And I will not lose you."

Confusion mingled with dread, twisting inside her.

"I don't understand."

"The magic will be broken and there will be nothing to bind me to you or to this world. As I have no magic of my own, I would hurtle back to Imperia without you."

Another horror for him to endure, she thought then, fighting a wave of sorrow. Of all the things he'd had to endure, surely that would be the worst. Losing the one he loved. No wonder he refused to give his heart. Love and lose. He would be free, but alone. Wasn't that better, though, than an eternity as a slave?

"You want to go home, Tristan. I know you do. You said the words yourself."

"Aye. I would like to once again walk the shores of my homeland, but I am content here with you. I would rather stay here with you, in fact."

She closed her eyes against an onslaught of stinging tears. He was willing to endure an eternity as a pleasure slave for a flash of time with her. She tightened her hold around him. This man loved her. He might not recognize or acknowledge the emotion, but he did. What did I do to deserve him ? The words filled her mind even as she accepted that she couldn't, wouldn't, keep him. To force him to endure a life of slavery… no. Not while there was a way to save him. And there was.

Giving him up. Oh, the knowledge ripped inside her, tearing apart her heart, body and mind. She'd have to live without him, because she was going to do whatever it took to grant him his freedom. Without him, she would suffer, she knew it, but it was because of her overwhelming love for him that she would endure, knowing he was free.

She would not let him sacrifice his own freedom for her. That, she could never do.

That night, Julia lay beside Tristan inside the confines of her bed. They were both naked. He didn't want clothes between them while they slept, and to be honest, neither did she. She toyed with a lock of his hair, running the midnight strands between her fingers.

I know what I have to do.

She was going to gain his admission of love. And he was going to disappear from her life forever. She trembled as her fingertips glided over his cheekbones, along his jaw. He didn't wake. The clamor of her heart echoed in the quiet of the room.

"Tristan," she whispered. Even she heard the undercurrent of desire and determination in her voice. "Wake up. I need you."

Very slowly, he came drowsily awake, and she repeated her request. Before she could inhale another breath, he dragged her atop his chest. The juncture of her thighs rested against his growing erection. He cupped her bottom. "Tell me, sweet dragon, tell me exactly what you need."

"You. Only you."

"Then take me." His husky voice was deepened with his own need.

Inch by inch she moved down the length of his body, stopping at the object of her fascination. She took him into her mouth. He tasted of male and warmth, and she couldn't get enough. Over and over she moved her mouth up and down the length of his erection, over the head of his penis, then all the way to the base, savoring the thickness, the heat. She cupped his heavy sac in her hand.

"Julia," Tristan said hoarsely. "Julia."

"Yes?"

"Kiss me." He grabbed her underneath the shoulders and wrenched her up. He captured her lips then, and at the same time he thrust upward, entering her in one long, swift thrust. "I want to come inside your body, not your mouth."

"Later, then," she said. "I want to taste you."

Fierce and growling, he bit the hollow of her neck, then licked away the sting.

Breathless, Julia closed her eyes. She arched her back, sending him deeper inside. Softness met hardness in one glorious burst of sensation.

This is bliss, she thought, moving up and down his rigid length with the desperate pace he set. But she wanted to prolong this moment, to make it last forever. So when she rode the downward slide, she stopped. He groaned. Gradually she raised herself up. Down. Up. So slowly.

Tristan gripped her hips, urging her on. He was sweating. "This is the sweetest torture I have ever endured. But if I do not have you, all of you, I will die. I swear it."

"I love you," she whispered.

He ceased moving completely and just stared up at her.

She cupped his jaw in her hands. "I want you to love me, too. I'm not saying this as a command, but as a request for the truth. Will you admit that you love me?"

He rolled her to her back, pinning her against the softness of the silk sheets. His shoulders were taut, the lines of his face drawn.

"You know I will not love you."

"I don't believe that. I think you do, that you just haven't admitted it to yourself."

"Nay. Do you not understand, Julia? If I admit such a thing, I will lose you. Do you want to lose me?"

Horror that he would think so had her screaming, "No!"

And too late did she realize that she should have lied, should have told him she was tired of him—something, anything to make him yearn to leave.

"I need the words, Tristan. I need them."

Deep torment flashed in the depths of his eyes, and she glimpsed his inward struggle.

"Tell me again that you love me," he said raggedly.

"I do," she said. "I love you so much. Never doubt that. Now tell me how you feel."

She waited for him to offer her the same avowal, but he merely slipped his hand between their bodies and pressed against the core of her desire. She gasped, in pleasure, in exquisite pain.

"You love me, but you are willing to lose me?"

She gulped back her pain, and didn't even try to deny what they both knew.

"Yes. I am willing to lose you."

He studied her face.

"Then perhaps, my little dragon, I will have to convince you otherwise."

His voice was a husky ripple purring against her skin.

"What—what do you mean to do?" she asked.

He flexed and surged inside her at the same moment his fingers circled her.

"Oh… Tristan… " Her breath grew ragged as he moved within her again and again.

"That is right, Julia. Your body needs mine, will forever need mine. Can you feel yourself tighten around me? Can you feel how your body cries out for me?"

"Yes," she gasped. "Yes."

"Tell me you want me for the rest of your days. You know what your body is telling you, now listen to your heart."

Whimpering, she clutched the silk beneath her.

"Do you love me, Tristan?"