King of Slaves (Jenna's Story) (The Slave Series Book 5) (9 page)

“Of course not, but then again, sex is the foundation of our existence. Without it we wouldn’t survive as a species.”

“True, but I’m sure that you have enough willing women to father a whole village. So go knock yourself out but stop thinking about me as a sex object. I’m not!”

He pushed his chin out. “What is your problem with sex? Are you a lesbian?”

“No,” she exclaimed in a high pitch.

“Are you married?”

“No.”

“But I don’t understand why someone at your age isn’t married with children yet. Did no one make a claim on you?”

“Excuse me,” she snapped back, offended. “But I bet you’re older than me, so I could ask you the same thing.”

“That’s different. Women marry younger than men; the average bride in my country is fifteen.”

Jenna felt strangely defensive and she didn’t understand why. This could have been an interesting discussion on cultural differences, but something about the way he asked if no one had made a claim on her made her feel undesirable, and it stirred her vanity. Even though it had been her choice to focus on her career and not to pursue marriage, she was insulted at the hint that she was old and unfit to be a wife.

“I believe the average bride in the US is twenty-seven years old.” Jenna knew that because her sister had mentioned it recently.

“But you are already thirty-two,” he pointed out.

“How do you know that?” she said with a gasp.

“It’s common knowledge and was mentioned in every news article about you this week.”

“You mean the articles about how you imprisoned me?” she accused.

“Yes, and how you insulted me,” he retorted.

Agitated and with racing pulses they faced each other.

“So how old are you and why aren’t you married yet?” she challenged him.

He starred into her eyes and took a step closer. “I’m thirty-six, and do I have to remind you that I just fought a five-year-long war? Maybe I didn’t want to celebrate a wedding while my people were dying, did you think of that?”

Jenna closed her mouth and blinked a few times.
He has a point.
Her voice lowered. “And now that the war is over?”

“I’ll marry soon. I’m looking at candidates.” His voice was softer too.

“An arranged marriage to a teenager?” she said, trying to hide her disgust.

He nodded. “Of course. It’s the tradition of my country. My wife will be young and beautiful and she’ll give me heirs.”

“But why would a girl that young want you?”

He wrinkled his nose as if he didn’t think anyone could be stupid enough to ask a question with so obvious an answer. “She’ll be my queen.”

“But won’t you be bored to death with a teenager. I mean, what can you possibly have in common?”

He raised his voice and got real close to her. “That’s enough, Jenna… I don’t have to defend my choice of bride to you.”

The use of her first name made his warning so much more powerful. Her pulse was racing as she looked up into his dark brown eyes, unsure why the thought of him marrying some naïve young teen bothered her so much.
Why do I care?

She didn’t move when she felt his hand caress her hair and slide down to her shoulder, where his fingers trailed toward her cleavage. “I’m not married yet, Jenna,” he said in a low seductive voice. “And I can offer you something much better than your vibrator.”

It was as if a mist of sensuality was clouding Jenna’s mind, and she didn’t push him away when he lowered his head to hers and placed a soft kiss on her lips. Parts of her that she had suppressed for years flared back to life with a vengeance, and on their own initiative her hands found their way to his thick hair.

“I’ve wanted you from the first moment I saw you,” he whispered as he pressed himself against her, and kissed her more firmly.

With sexual desire roaring through her body, she buried her face against his neck and took in his masculine scent. It smelled of fresh outdoors and sandalwood soap. She wondered if he tasted as intoxicating as he smelled.

“You are such a beautiful woman, and that outfit you had on was so incredibly sexy,” he muttered low while his hands cupped her breasts.

The mention of the skanky outfit brought Jenna out of her sex haze and right back to reality.
What the hell am I doing?

She pushed away from him. “I’m not a whore, and I won’t be your little blonde adventure before you settle down.”

Kioni grabbed her around her waist and pulled her back against his hard body. “Not even marriage could keep me out of your bed,” he said in a rusty voice revealing how worked up he was. “I can offer you a year of sexual satisfaction.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“No, my offer is genuine.”

Jenna folded her arms in front of her, creating a bit of distance, but he still kept her in his arms.

“You think I would be tempted to be your mistress?”

He finally seemed to understand that she had just closed down the candy store.

“I want you, Jenna, I want to have sex with you,” he stated clearly, as if that was enough argument needed.

“Well, too bad, Your Majesty, but I don’t want you.”

“That’s a lie,” he said and looked down at her hard nipples pointing through her t-shirt. 

“I’m not going to deny that you are an attractive man, or that my body reacts to you, but I have standards, and one of them is to never be
that other woman
.”

“What other woman?”

“The kind married men cheat with.”

He narrowed his eyes. “But clearly you didn’t think I could ever marry someone like you.”

His words hit her like a sledgehammer, and she felt her hands shake and her voice tremble as she tried to control her temper.

“I want you to leave now.”

He laughed as if this was ridiculous. “Jenna, did you think I could love you?”

What the hell is wrong with this man? How heartless can a person be?

It was the anger inside her that got her through it without breaking into tears. She walked stiffly to the door and opened it. “Please leave.”

Annoyance and frustration flashed on his face and when he walked past her, he sneered coldly, “Enjoy your sex toy.”

Jenna slammed the door after him, not caring if anyone heard. She wouldn’t have thought it possible for him to do anything worse to her than what he had already done, when he detained her for two days, but this… this was so hurtful that she picked up a pillow and screamed into it.
I hate that man!

The emotional roller coaster that had started a week ago when she was told to put down everything and fly to Spirima was on an all-time high, and she couldn’t hold back her tears any longer. Jenna curled up and let all her emotions pour out in a cleansing sobbing, thinking of everything that had happened to her since she arrived. The stress of being unprepared, the uncertainty of the situation, the humiliation of having to wear Erin’s too-small outfit, the shock of being thrown into a small cell and left for days, the negotiations with the king and now the confusing desire for the man responsible for the injustice done to her. But the worst part by far was the heartless way he had degraded her by saying he could never love someone like her.
What does that even mean?

Someone my age?

Someone with a job?

Someone with my nationality?

Someone not royal?

What the hell did he mean by someone like me?

Jenna considered packing her things and going back home. She didn’t owe him or his people anything. If they wanted a devil like him in charge of their country, then they would have to live with the consequences, even if it meant losing the support of the US. She wasn’t normally a quitter but there was only so much BS she could take in a week.

But then a thought popped into her mind.

His people didn’t choose him. He’s not a democratically elected leader, he’s a king, a tyrant, and his people are stuck with him. No wonder they tried to rebel against him. It’s not their fault, and I can’t just leave them without hope because I hate him.
Eventually Jenna’s tired mind gave up and she fell asleep firmly convinced that she would
never
talk to the king again.
Ever!

CHAPTER 7

The Candidates

Kioni

What the hell just happened?

The anger that filled Kioni was violent. Jenna had rejected him.
Him
, the king. No woman had ever rejected Kioni. He was mad as hell as he stormed away from Jenna’s room.

That fucking tease has me all worked up and then she kicks me out of her room. I should have taken her over my knees and spanked her right then and there.

Only the thought of another media scandal, if she told the press, had made him leave Jenna’s room.

When he got to the fifth floor, Kioni slammed open the door to Nini’s room. She was in bed reading but sat up with surprise on her pretty face.

“What in the world is the matter?” she asked.

“I need relief,” he growled, closed the door harshly behind him, and went straight to her bed.

Nini, his favorite pleaser, was already coming toward him with an excited grin on her face. “Has someone upset you?”

Kioni took a seat on the bed. “Yes, someone needs a damn spanking.”

Nini eagerly placed herself on his lap. “You can spank me,” she purred.  

And he did. Kioni smacked her soft bottom until it was flaming red and then he stopped with a deep frustrated moan.

“Lay down flat on your back.”

Nini got in position and obediently placed her head over the edge of the mattress while her body rested comfortably on the bed. He didn’t have to tell her to tilt her head back and open her mouth; she already knew what he wanted and stuck out her tongue, eager to taste his flesh.

Standing in front of her Kioni roughly took what he needed, using Nini’s warm moist mouth to masturbate while he closed his eyes and thought of Jenna. He didn’t apologize for not caring about Nini’s pleasure but sprayed his cum on her face and patted her chin with a small “thanks” before he left.

He barely made it to his own bedroom before his momentary relief wore off and his frustration returned full force. He stopped and contemplated going back to Nini for a second round. She was the most submissive pleaser he’d ever had, and she would more than welcome an anger fuck, since Nini got off on pain. 

No.
Kioni continued walking.
It won’t make a difference. I could fuck her into the next century without getting any real satisfaction.
She wasn’t what he wanted. Not really! What he wanted was a stubborn, intelligent, headstrong blond woman who dared stand up to him and challenge his way of life. Someone so strong that neither Zurry nor he seemed to intimidate her.

Four days ago, Kioni would have sworn such a female didn’t exist, but here she was. Beautiful, tempting, and frustrating as hell.

Kioni had never had to seduce or woo a woman. Never had to work hard to get sex. With his looks and power – women stood in line.

It was infuriating to him that Jenna Davis, his ultimate sexual fantasy, hadn’t been the slightest bit honored when he complimented her and told her he wanted to have sex with her. If such an open admittance of his weakness and desire for her didn’t make her lie down and spread her smooth thighs, then he had no fucking clue how to get her to surrender to him.

She had been angry with him, as if being invited into his bed was somehow offensive. He snorted out loud.
What a joke! Being my mistress is a goddamn privilege!

Back in his own room he got out his laptop and accessed the log from his bedroom surveillance camera.

Jenna had admitted to trespassing, and it didn’t take him long to find the footage of Kalen’s and Jenna’s visit.

He watched how Kalen came excitedly through the door, and saw Jenna nervously follow him only to spin in a circle and take in the room. Even without sound, Kioni could tell Kalen was calling for him as he walked around. The two of them were only there for four or five minutes, but he watched the clip twice and every time he got to the part where Jenna and Kalen hugged, he paused and studied her expression. He couldn’t remember ever feeling jealousy toward his brother; sure, he had often wished that he could play the piano as well as Kalen, but he had never been jealous about it – it was Kalen’s thing.

But looking at Jenna hugging Kalen tightly, like he was special to her, made Kioni full of irrational envy.

She couldn’t have known Kalen more than ten or twenty minutes in this video clip, so how had Kalen managed to tap into this warm, unguarded part of Jenna?

Kioni had only experienced her tough and defensive side, but clearly she was a warm and caring person underneath that hard shell. She had to be, with the tender way she acted around his brother.

Most people, especially women, pulled away from Kalen because of his excessive need to touch and be tactile. It was unusual that a stranger didn’t get overwhelmed and put off by him. 

I wish that I had met you under different circumstances and that you would show me that side of yourself,
he muttered to the image of Jenna before pressing play again.

When he got to the part where Jenna leaned in over his bed, he hit pause again. This image excited him. To know that she had been here and had physically touched his bed, his most sacred domain, made his dick harden.

He wished that she was here now and that she would let him fuck her slow and deep. He touched his lips… she had kissed him, and he could still hear her small gasps and moan from when he had pressed himself against her.
I’ll have her… I’ll make her take her rejection back and surrender to me.

An inner voice said that he would only get burned by her rejections again, and it made him rub his temples in frustration. 
Oh fuck, I’m so screwed!!!

With harsh movements he closed down the video file and opened another folder on his computer called “Candidates.” Pictures of five young women popped up.

These were the remaining subjects that the council, and his mother, wanted him to choose a queen from.

All the girls were beautiful and ranked according to title, fortune, and connections. There were also descriptions of their personalities and comments from his mom and the council. 

Kioni had put this off for too long, but being mad and frustrated made him not care much about anything.

The council favored Amira, the only foreigner in the group of candidates. She was fifteen and the daughter of a Saudi Arabian prince. The girl was pretty, with large dark eyes, and she came with both title and fortune.

Kioni wasn’t a Muslim, and wondered if that would be an issue.
I’ll have to ask about that
.

The thought of his wife praying five times a day didn’t sit well with him; it simply seemed impractical.

His mother preferred Tahita, a sixteen-year-old daughter of a prominent member of his council. She came from money and influence. He could see why his mother had chosen Tahita. The girl was the easy choice as they shared the same culture and language, not to mention that she would already have friends here, and would undoubtedly be delighted about the match with him, whereas he wasn’t so sure what a potentially spoiled Saudi Arabian princess would think of Spirima.

He wrote a quick email to his mother and gave her the green light to set up an introductory meeting with Tahita.

If I’m lucky I’ll be so enchanted with my new wife that I’ll lose all interest in Jenna.