The other jenjin filed out with their heads bowed, but at least two of them had broad grins on her face.
“Oh, lordy,” Freya muttered in English, then she added another exclamation in French, b
efore capping the sentence off in Swedish.
Marco withdrew his cock and turned her around to face him. He brushed his lips against her mouth. “That was exactly what I needed. Today hasn’t been the best day. You make the sun shine in my heart once again.”
She liked that Vendian expression of joy. “I do?”
“Of course.” He pecked at her throat. “I’m still hard. So fucking hard for you. In a minute, we’ll get out and I’ll fuck you some more on one of those comfortable sunbeds.” He gestured toward one of the larger loungers situated around the edge of the room.
“Why did you do this?”
“I told you. I had a need. Does it matter that others watched? They will respect you for obeying me and submitting. Your submission is key to my pleasure, don’t forget that. However, from now on, I don’t want to feel any resistance from you, no hesitation, no questioning. My demands are simple, Freya—do as I ask and do it without fear.”
He placed a high demand on her, one she would never consider giving to another man. “I’ll try.”
“Try, yes, but more important, succeed. Now, out you get and lie on that bed over there with your ass raised. This time, I’ll take it. Would you like that?”
He spoke with such confidence and her pussy clenched. “Yes. Please.”
Chapter Ten
Freya woke to the sounds of soft snoring, which were so subtle they barely reached her ears. She turned onto her side to admire the man lying next to her in bed. He lay sprawled with his arms above his head and his nose pointing to the ceiling. He’d not intended for fall asleep; he refrained from staying with her during the designated night-time period, when the lights would be dimmed and the gongs ceased to ring out for a few hours. He claimed it wasn’t necessary and that his own quarters were better suited for sleeping.
She smiled, appreciating the gentle rise and fall of his chest and her gaze traversed his slumbering form until she lingered on his penis, which lay limp, but still remarkably substantial. What a beast stirred inside him when he claimed her for his pleasure. Every time he visited the Volta, he brought with him the baggage of the day and when he’d spent himself several times, he left the building with a noticeable bounce to his step. She took the credit for the transformation in his vitality.
He had planned to see her every day, twice if possible, he admitted, but the demands of his post kiboshed the idea. Instead, he visited every three days. Since he’d fucked her in the swimming pool, he’d established a pattern to his visits. That particular day had been a turning point in her acceptance of her situation. He’d made his point; she was his and his to do with as he pleased. The passion he displayed for fucking her was undeniable and even when he demanded her in ways she never thought she could endure, she readily submitted. He wasn’t a cruel man. He never hurt her, but neither had he assumed she was too gentle not to bear his rough ways.
What troubled her was not his sexual preferences, especially his adventurous nature when it came to sex—he enjoyed practicing the various positions she’d been taught—but his unwavering need to distance himself from any romance or declarations of love. He came close with some of his erotic pillow talk, but he codified it in such a way she was never sure if he was alluding to love or something less tangible.
How long would she be his jenjin? Retirement at least brought some benefits. Most ex-jenjins took up other posts in the city, usually as servants or cooks. Only at the end of their working day were they reminded there were prisoners—locked up in their quarters, a building on the fringe of the city. Would that happen to her? One day, would Marco dismiss her because he’d found another more attractive, or because he’d grown tired of Freya? What about his post? It wouldn’t last forever. He would be promoted and moved to a different location. She doubted he would take her with him—he’d no powers to commute her sentence. The idea of separation appalled her. She’d didn’t want to consider it.
She snuggled closer to him and traced the lines of his tattoos as delicately as possible, so not to disturb him. How she wished she could live with him and not in the Volta. She’d cook for him, greet him when he returned home from work, and massage his weary feet. She’d try her hardest to show him what love looked like, how it brought friendship and loyalty. Maybe she could convince him to give the prisoners stuck in the canyon a sense of hope and purpose; however, whenever he spoke of the situation down there, Marco implied things were no better. The drudgery of life fed the violence and lawlessness.
The Volta provided a different perspective on captivity. The demureness of the jenjin constantly surprised Freya. The women acquiesced to whatever demands were placed on them. Lucilla continued to service many men, but she refused to explain why so gentle a creature was sentenced to life on a harsh penal colony. She’d been sent to work in the Volta, she’d told Freya, because she enjoyed sex and because she had no issue with being available to many men. She’d come from a culture similar to Vendu—a warrior class who proudly defended their honor and where women were considered a commodity, and even traded to further alliances between clans. She alluded to the desperate war they’d fought against the Vendu and the constant uprisings that plagued any chance of peace. “My father is part of a clan that bears much responsibility for the ongoing insurrection.”
Freya didn’t want to pity her. It wasn’t fair to criticize another’s situation. However, Lucilla’s insistence that she should remain silent about her past was not helping her.
Marco’s hand shot out and snatched her wrist. He tut-tutted. “A jenjin is not permitted to touch a sleeping man in the Volta. Remember?”
She swallowed hard. “Yes, sir. But you’re so tempting.” She flirted with him, offering him a swift smile.
He released her and she moved away from him. He shot a glance in her direction and his dazzling eyes were wide awake. “I’ve received several reports from Lalita about your attitude and behavior since you arrived in the Volta.”
Freya’s throat constricted further. “Is there something you wish to discuss, sir?”
“A few issues have been brought to my attention. Lalita has been generous with you, allowing you some leeway. But this week, she decided you need to be reminded of certain rules. She has requested that I punish you.”
“Punish me?” Freya sat up. “Now?”
“I am rested.” He inhaled deeply through his nose. “It would seem the best time to deal with discipline.”
“Oh.” She hung her chin and glanced over to where he’d abandoned his clothes, hoping that the comms device might emit a bleep and send him back to work. It didn’t.
Marco eased himself off the bed and started to dress. Having him attired in his smart uniform reestablished his status. No longer her bedfellow, he was her disciplinarian once again.
“Freya. What are you doing on the bed still?” He straightened his collar.