As soon as she was on the grass, Jane edged toward the bush where her clothes were. But one of the men, who wore feathers and decorative strips of curling hide in his hair, made a sharp sound. He shifted his spear, pointing it threateningly at her, and she stopped.
The man made another sound and jabbed his weapon at her again and Jane stepped back. He looked at Jonathan and said something, and his companions made sounds of agreement.
“Raise your arms,” Jonathan said. “Jane, he wants you to raise your arms. They want to…see you.”
“Jonathan,” she whispered. “Do you know these men?”
“Do as they say,” he said. “Please, Jane.”
Slowly, she lifted her arms, and, following the motioned directions of the presumed leader of the group, placed her hands on top of her head. Her heart was pounding so hard her hair shivered over the tops of her breasts, brushing her belly and hips in a ticklish motion.
When the leader stepped toward her, Jane’s breath caught and she had to bite her lip to keep still. She sensed that begging or talking or crying out would do nothing to help her and Jonathan. As the native approached, she felt his gaze scan her, heavy and intent. He kept his spear at the ready, but he had one hand free, and with that hand, he reached out.
Jane could hardly keep from rearing away, but Jonathan’s hissed warning held her steady. The leader’s hand touched her hair, sliding down over the curling golden-red locks, sifting it through his fingers. The wonderment in his face and expression was not what she’d expected, and something Jonathan had said to her previously popped into her head.
…with your pearl-white skin, blue eyes and hair the color of flames, surely they would think you a goddess.
Jane shivered as he stroked her hair over and over, as if to assure himself it was real. Then man took a large hunk of it, wrapping the curling locks around his fist. At first, she thought he meant to cut some of it off—he seemed so amazed by its unusual color. But instead, he lifted it away from her breasts and torso.
Now she was completely exposed, and as Jane stood there, her hands on her head, captured by her hair, the others stared at her greedily. Some of them edged forward, prodding Jonathan with them. When she attempted to turn away or raise her thigh to huddle down, the leader twisted her hair up sharply. She gasped and tears of pain sprang to her eyes as he pulled it high and tight. He said something and one of the other men came forward.
Jane tried to shrink away again, but the hand holding her hair had her immobilized and the spear touching her throat was an even stronger warning. The second man was more curious than the first, for he walked in a circle around her. She felt as if she were horseflesh being considered for sale, his eyes taking in every bit of her bare, trembling body.
When he touched her, a light finger down her spine, Jane jolted and cried out in shock more than anything. The hand grasping her hair yanked her back upright, bringing more tears to her eyes. Then the finger down her spine returned and slid into the cleft of her arse, gently and lightly tracing it down between her legs. Her quim pulsed in surprise and shock as another finger brushed over her labia.
She couldn’t look at Jonathan; she couldn’t look anywhere but into space. What were they going to do to her? Would they rape her right here, now? Or would they take her back…somewhere?
And what about Jonathan? Would they kill him or take him too?
Mercifully, the finger was removed after one brief touch. Then the second man, who had more paint on his face than any of the others, came around to the front of her. He stared into her eyes with emotionless brown ones, then his attention traveled down to her lips and breasts and the triangle of fiery hair at her thighs, then to her feet.
She braced herself, but instead of touching her again, he merely looked at the man who held her hair and gave a short nod, then spoke rapidly.
The next thing Jane knew, she was being prodded toward Jonathan. The man released her hair, but when she would have lunged into her lover’s embrace, two warning spears blocked her.
“What are they going to do with us?” she asked Jonathan. His tension seemed to have eased, and his arms now hung at his sides.
He spoke to the natives briefly, and she wondered again whether he knew them or simply knew how to communicate with them. Was he negotiating their release?
He looked at her, some undefinable emotion shining in his eyes. “Jane. I don’t know how to tell you this, but…they are taking us back to their village. We must go with them.”
— VIII —
Jane considered herself fortunate that the native men didn’t bind her hands as they traveled. Perhaps they assumed their spears were enough of a threat. Or perhaps she and Jonathan weren’t exactly captives as much as…guests.
A bitter laugh lodged deep in her throat as she traipsed through the jungle away from the hot springs pool. Guests? Guests were allowed to wear clothing, she assumed. But although one of the men gathered up her things, he didn’t allow her to put them on. Instead, he merely raked over her with an appreciative gaze and gestured with his spear for her to walk.
The ground was prickly and rough beneath her feet, and it wasn’t long before Jane felt the dampness of blood in her footsteps. Dear God, how long would they make her walk like this? Her feet would be in ribbons, and her skin would soon be sliced and scraped from the sharp edges of ferns and palm leaves.
Thus she was relieved as well as frightened when they reached a group of boats floating in a small river a short distance from the hot pool. The boats were long and narrow, created by hollowed-out tree trunks. Hers tipped wildly as she was forced to climb in.
Jonathan wasn’t allowed to sit in her boat, and Jane’s apprehension grew when she was surrounded by three men in her boat. If they were traveling by river, that would take them even further away from her father and Effie, and Kellan Darkdale. Even he wouldn’t be able to track them.
A sudden hopeful thought had her looking up into the trees.
Zaren.
Could Zaren be up there? Watching? He always seemed to appear just when she needed him.
She peered up into the thick green canopy as the boats shoved off from shore, hoping and praying she would recognize some human movement. That he’d come swooping down from the trees and snatch her to safety. But it was dark and shadowy, and other than birds, flying squirrels, and other tree inhabitants, she could see little.
But Zaren had brought her back to her bedchamber secretly, with no farewell. Was that his way of discarding her? He had taken what he wanted—what she’d willingly given—and now he was finished? And even if he wasn’t…what were the chances that he’d be watching at this very moment as she was spirited away?
Jane’s thoughts spun and sifted thus as the boat sped swiftly down the river. For a small channel, it was rough and quick, and with every moment, Jane knew she was getting farther and farther from ever seeing Papa again.
Would he even notice? It might be best if he didn’t, after all. She blinked back tears and tried not to think of what sort of grief he might endure, never seeing her again. She was glad, for once, that he was so intent on his work that he paid hardly any attention to the rest of the world. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad for him.
Miserable and frightened, she made it through the day’s journey. As the sunlight faded, the jungle became darker, and at last, they pulled the boat up onto a shore. If she thought they’d arrived at their destination, Jane was wrong.
There was no sign of a village or anything other than a simple clearing with the remnants of an old fire. The men made another fire while she was forced to sit and watch. They cooked and then fed her and Jonathan. She ate, despite not knowing what it was. Jane wasn’t a fool. She knew whatever happened, she had to keep up her strength and wait for any opportunity to escape. She could follow the river back upstream and find her way back home if she had the chance.
If only she had some clothing.
The natives hadn’t allowed her or Jonathan near each other, and any time she attempted to speak to him, he shushed her, looking apprehensively at their captors.
Although she’d been unbound all day, when it came time to sleep, the leader came over to Jane and tied her wrists together in front of her. He laid a blanket made from soft woven reeds on the ground and gestured for her to lie on it, which she did with some difficulty due to her bound hands. Then he tied her wrists to the base of a nearby tree, thus ensuring that she would be lying prone all night.
From her awkward position, Jane tried to crane her head around and see what they’d done with Jonathan. But he was out of sight and when she tried to move into a better position, a spear thrust into the ground in front of her and one of the natives glared down at her. Thus subdued, she sagged back onto the ground and tried to sleep, praying that there wouldn’t be a snake or feline or some other wild animal that attacked their camp. She’d be ripe and ready for its dinner, all trussed up like this. She closed her eyes and forced herself to relax.
Jane awoke suddenly.
It was pitch dark. Even the fire had burned out. But someone was there, behind her. She tensed and gathered herself up to scream when a hand clamped over her mouth.
“Jane, it’s me,” Jonathan said in her ear.
Relief washed over her and her muscles slacked. “Thank God,” she whispered. “Oh, thank God, Jonathan, you’re free. Can you untie me?”
“Jane,” he said, his mouth close to her ear. His body was close behind her, long and warm and comforting. “I can’t. They’re watching. They’ll kill me if I try to free you.”
“But Jonath—”
“Shhh,” he said, and his hand slid around her from behind. He cupped one of her breasts as he pressed a kiss to her neck. “I know you’re frightened. Everything is going to be all right.” His tongue flicked out and slid into the soft, sensitive crease of her neck and she shivered.
“Jonathan,” she whispered, but his hand moved back over her mouth before she could ask how he’d gotten free.
“You must be quiet, Jane,” he said, his voice strident and directly in her ear.
His fingers were tight over her lips, almost painful. “They’ll kill me if they know I’m trying to comfort you. Now, relax. And let me comfort you, darling.”
She realized with a start that he was rubbing a very insistent erection against her backside. Before she could react, he removed his hand from her mouth, whispering, “Don’t make a sound, Jane.
You cannot make a sound.
”
She tried to move, but her hands were fixed above and in front of her, and she dared not speak again for fear Jonathan’s threat would come true. If he were killed, what would happen to her?
He covered her breast again, finding the tender peak of her nipple. Jane closed her eyes, clamping her lips closed as he rolled the tip between his fingers, gently massaging it into a hard point. “Mmm, yes,” he murmured duskily into her ear. “That’s my Jane.”
Little streaks of pleasure-pain jolted down from his fingerplay to her quim, and Jane felt her body begin to prickle and awaken. Her breathing quickened and she had to close her eyes, concentrating on not making a sound. His cock slid along the crevice of her arse, hard and hot, and she shivered when he buried his face in her neck, licking, nibbling, kissing along the sensitive skin there.
Then his hand slid down over the trembling skin of her belly, down to the coarse hair that grew between her legs. She shifted her knees apart, allowing him to find her swelling labia and the rock-hard sensitive pearl hidden there. He slid his hand, all four fingers, down and over the front of her quim, slipping through sleek and hot wetness, back and forth and back and forth until she wanted to scream.
But Jane kept her lips clamped shut, biting her lip, squeezing her eyes closed as the wide swath of his fingers teased and stroked over her nether parts. He moved against her from behind and she felt his breath on her shoulder, panting hard and hot into her steaming skin. Then he moved his hand, prying her legs apart from the front, clearly trying to keep his movements subtle.
His cock bumped against her from behind, then, after two poorly-aimed attempts, he slid inside. Jane’s eyes flew open at the shock of pleasure, then she closed them again as he began to thrust. Holding her, one-handed, at the hip, he slammed inside her, fast and hard, all the while breathing hot against her neck, murmuring things she couldn’t hear. His other hand gripped her extended arm, as if needing to stabilize himself as he pumped deep and hard inside her.
Jane gasped silently when she came, the effort of holding herself still and silent making the orgasm all the stronger. The strong shudders rippled through her body as Jonathan pounded into her one last time, then shot his release inside her.
She was still breathing heavily, still quivering, when he pulled away, silently and quickly. With one last kiss on the shoulder, he left her there, hot, sated, and just as confused as ever.
~*~
Jane was pulled to her feet the next morning after her arms were unbound. Staggering into the overgrowth, she relieved herself, wishing for the hot springs pool again. Last night’s activities had done nothing to alleviate her aches.