A Mandalorian Promise
A/N: I would first like to inform everyone that this story is continued with the express permission of Mother Mayhem. Due to circumstances beyond her control she is currently unable to finish it. I loved it, asked her if I could complete it and she agreed.
I will do my best to keep the characters the way Mother developed them, after all that is the way we all love them. I recognize ahead of time that some of the characters, especially Canderous, are slightly OOC, but I do not intend on fixing that. Don't worry, he will still be the tough warrior we all know and love!
Next, I hope everyone will understand my writing style may be different than Mother Mayhem's. I am not her and will not pretend to be. I just hope you enjoy my story as much as hers.
This is unbeta'd. Please forgive any mistakes you find, I read it over but it's hard to find them all. On that note, if any might be interested in betaing this for me shot me a message.
Finally and this is important, this is a continuation or sequel to A Mandalorian's Promise, it is VERY important to read it first. I intend on picking up right where Mother Mayhem left off and if you don't read the original first you will NOT understand this story.
Thanks!
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own any of these characters! I make nothing from my efforts.
Previously
Pol walked to the refresher, her mind was a chaos comparable to the nagging in her limbs that came from missing his touch. Two voices vied for her attention one offering unsolicited advice on how to 'conquer' her smug Mandalorian and the other teasing her relentlessly about the licentiousness nature of the whole ordeal. The thing that surprised Pol about the two mildly varying opinions was that both held a weight of respect for Canderous and more importantly for her, despite their taunts.
That went well, O'star giggled inside Pol's head.
The dark lord snickered along, yeah Pollyyou sure showed him. You know if you can get him at your feet again..
Pol silenced the rampaging voices; Oh shut up, and laughed at herself silently as she combed her hair out before the mirror.
Chapter 1 (or 29 depending on how you count!)
"Lady," purred a deep voice, "It's 0630 hours, and your appointment with Master Yuthera is in half an hour."
After scolding Canderous for waking her so early, Pol had stomped into her 'fresher and took a deep breath, while trying to reign in her emotions. Her desire for the tall Mandalorian made her wish for a cold shower, a very cold one. It seemed like he knew exactly where and how to touch her, to generate a reaction. Finally regaining control over her desires, Pol had come out of the refresher, promptly fell back into bed and returned to blissful slumber.
She could sense her "servant" standing over, trying to wake her but she was not making it easy for him. Instead, with a groan, she threw the covers over her head and tried to burrow deeper.
Shaking his head at his "mistress's" actions, Canderous knew he couldn't just dump her out of bed. It would not be good for her image. Instead, with a sly smile, he would make her pay in another way for not getting out of bed and it would add to his image as manservant.
He sat down on the edge of her bed and gently pulled back the bed covers. Leaning over, his mouth close to her ear, he purred, "Milady, it is time to get up."
Feeling him breathing in her ear, she groaned and tried to move away from him. She'd do anything for five more minutes of sleep.
'Well,' thought Canderous, 'if she wants to play hardball.' He moved closer to her and slipped one hand under the blankets and laid it on her slender hip. Slowly, he moved his it up and down her thigh, while breathing in her ear.
With a moan, Pol moved away from the annoyance that was awaking her in more ways than one. 'Sleep! I need sleep, not this!"
When that failed to wake her, Canderous decided to move his hand to other areas. Slowly his large calloused hand rubbed across the supple flesh of Pol's stomach, as his fingers started to slip beneath the band of her panties. He felt her stiffen as his fingers slipped ever lower. Suddenly she moved away again, nearly falling out of bed. Recovering at the last moment, she instead jumped from the bed and out of his reach.
"What do you think you are doing Vlad?" she demanded.
Smothering a laugh, he looked at her standing in front of him, angry, in her t-shirt and panties, and he tried to control himself as his desire for her climbed another notch. After a moment he answered her, almost innocently, "Waking you Lady."
Her desire for him to continue his attentions and need to maintain the charade warred within her. Finally she said, "Next time keep your hands to yourself or reap the consequences."
Looking at the flush of her cheeks, Canderous knew the truth but instead answered unrepentantly, "As you wish," as he stood from the bed.
'We'll get him for that!' sneered O'star, in her head.
"I do wish!" retorted Pol, who silently added, 'for now.' Taking a deep breath to catch her warring emotions, she asked, "What time is it?"
"It was about 0630 before I tried to wake you but its now about five minutes later."
That gave her just enough time to get ready for her meeting with Master Yuthera. Nodding her head in acknowledgment, Pol made a quick exit to the refresher and slammed the door.
'She is even more beautiful when she's angry,' observed Canderous, as he watched her flounce into the 'fresher.
He stood against the wall and waited for her to return, remembering her in her panties and t-shirt. Eventually she came out wearing her uniform and her dark mane pulled back from her face but without wearing her 'Lady Anju' make-up. Unfortunately for him she was already wearing her boots.
"Do you wish me to accompany you Mistress?" questioned Canderous.
"Not at the moment Vlad," answered Pol, as she started towards the door. Not waiting for a reply, she stepped into the dark corridor and disappeared.
'Harr'chak!' thought Canderous. (Damn it!) He did not like the idea of his woman alone amongst the Darjetti. (Sith) The very fiber of his being screamed at him to protect her, to keep her safe, though he knew she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself.
'Now what to do?'
Although he was loath to return to the slaves' quarters, he didn't see much choice. Knowing that they were being watched through the cameras, he couldn't stay in Pol's quarters and though few actually noticed "the help," he didn't wish to be found wandering the halls and call attention to them. Not wishing to be caught with it and blow his cover, he had left his stealth field generator back on the Hawk. This left him only one alternative, return to his quarters.
Not an option he was overly fond of. There would be little to occupy his time there. He couldn't exactly polish his armor or work on his weapons, his two favorite pastimes, while there. He had absolutely nothing in common with any of the other slaves and did not care to listen to them moan about their pitiful lives.
With a sigh of resignation he opened the door and headed down the long hall, towards the slave quarters.
Ebon Hawk
Entering the common area, Carth saw his son and Mission sitting on a coach quietly talking and laughing together. He was happy to see Dustil smile again. Yesterday the young man had been extremely cold and aloof, with an air of superiority about him.
'Leave it to Mission to break the wall down.' The young Twi'lek was willing to give everyone a chance.
"Can I have a word with you Dustil?" Carth asked his son.
With a sharp nod, Dustil stood and adjusted his Sith jacket, the smile quickly fading from his face as his impenetrable wall went back up. Before turning to join his father he asked Mission, "Shall we continue this latter?"
"Yeah," replied Mission, "I can whip your butt at Pazaak again!"
"Maybe," admitted Dustil, "or maybe it's my turn to win."
"Not likely."
"We'll see," said Dustil. Joining his father he did not say a thing, only waited for the older man to lead the way.
Carth walked down the hall to the men's dorm, shut and locked the door behind them. This was not going to be easy and he really didn't need an audience.
Gesturing towards an empty bed, Carth said, "Have a seat. We need to talk."
"We have nothing to talk about father."
"I think we do."
"Until you find proof to support your allegations against the Sith I do not have anything to say to you," replied Dustil, as he folded his arms across his chest.
"Just sit down," ordered Carth, "You may not like what I have to say but I am still your father and you'll hear me out."
Reluctantly sitting down, Dustil said, "So talk father."
Nervous, Carth ran a shaking hand through his brown hair, before saying, "I am sorry."
Surprise flashed across Dustil before settling back into his cool mask, before he asked, "For what?"
"For not being there for you," replied Carth, "I tried to get home but I was too late."
"You were never there father," retorted Dustil, his anger starting to build. "Even before the bombing, you never there. You were too busy playing war hero!"
"I was trying to protect you and your mother!"
"You did a real great job!"
"It was war Dustil!" snapped Carth. "I went to war to protect you. I thought you were safe on Telos."
"Real safe," countered the young man, "Right until the bombs started dropping and you weren't there."
"I got there Dustil but it was too late. Your mother died in my arms." Dustil didn't reply so Carth continued, "I looked everywhere for you. I followed every lead, no matter how unlikely but it was like you vanished into thin air."
"Uncle Saul came and rescued me."
Jumping to his feet, Carth yelled, "What!? The bastard did what?!
"Unlike you father, Uncle Saul came for me," Dustil continued, "He protected me from the bombing."
Carth exploded, "It's his fault that your mother is dead! That I lost you!"
"No, father it's your fault," retorted, "You left us there alone. If it weren't for Uncle Saul I'd be dead."
Pacing the room, Carth stopped and snarled, "He ordered the bombing Dustil! He had to show the Sith his loyalty, so he destroyed our world."
"NO!" yelled Dustil, jumping to his own feet, "It's your fault. You never had time for us! You were never there when I needed you!"
"Dustil…"
"No father!" screamed Dustil, "He saved me. He brought me to the Academy. He gave me a life!"
Trying to reign in his temper and reason with his son, "Dustil, he ordered the attack. He may have taken you from Telos but he took you from me. I spent months and months looking for you."
"NO!"
"Son…"
"NO! I won't listen to this anymore," screamed Dustil, as he opened the door and slammed it behind him.
Seeming to lose all his strength, Carth sat down heavily on the bed and dragged his hands through his brown locks, before rubbing his face. He mumbled, "Oh gods Dustil…"
Slave Quarters
Canderous' luck held and he returned to find the slave quarters empty. He stripped off his dark shirt and boots, before lying back on his bed. He closed his eyes and feigned sleep, hoping anyone who returned wouldn't bother him. After a few moments, trusting his hyper-vigilance to alert him if anyone entered the room, he dozed off lightly.
After a time his senses warned him of a group of people entering the room. They quieted when they saw the big man lying on the bunk and he heard some ask, "Is he asleep?"
"Yeah I think so," answered a second, deeper voice.
"That's the new guy, right?" asked a third.
"Yeah," replied the first.
"Did you hear what he did to Tieri?" asked the deep voice.
"Gave him a concussion and broke his nose," commented a fourth he had not heard until this point.
He could have gotten worse!' thought Canderous 'teach him to make lewd comments about my woman.'
"Tieri shouldn't have shot his mouth off," countered the first and Canderous silently agreed with him.
"He was just making conversation," argued the second voice, "like we all do."
"Maybe," someone agreed, "But look at him…Would you be stupid enough to make unwanted remarks about his Mistress without knowing him?"
Eventually everyone agreed that making unsolicited comments was a bad idea.
"I mean look at him," whispered the first voice, "He's huge!"
"He's Mandalorian, right?" asked the third voice.
"Like that freighter captain they're interrogating?" questioned the first.
The mention of another Mandalorian got Canderous' attention. 'What was a Mando'ade doing here?' he wondered, 'and how did they manage to capture him?'
"My master has been trying to get him to talk," supplied a voice.
'Good luck with that!' thought Canderous, in Mando'a.
"How's it going?" asked another. All of the slaves were interested in the goings on of their masters. If their master's gained prestige or another failed, their lives either became correspondingly easier or worse.
"Difficult," the slave answered, "the prisoner will only speak in that Mandalorian gibberish. Such a heathen! He makes no sense whatsoever."
Canderous' blood boiled and he wanted to make the speaker eat his words. His muscles ached with the restraint he had to use to keep himself on the bed.
"Shhh!" scolded one of the speakers and he could almost feel them point at him.
"Did anyone notice all the scars and tattoos on his body?" someone queried.
"His mistress must be extremely cruel," commented the second voice.
As he heard the door slid open and someone walked in, he heard a slave ask, "What do his tattoos mean?"
The newcomer answered, "They show to which clan he belongs and his position within the clan."
"His position is obvious," someone observed, "He's a slave like us."
"That's a warrior's tattoo," the newcomer informed the group, "he's no slave." With that revelation the stunned group fell silent.
From his position on the bed, Canderous broke the silence by inquiring, "And how would you know what they mean?" As he sat up, he heard someone in the group gasp, the rest were too shocked to find he had been awake and listening to them.
"I saw the Mandalorian warriors tattooing themselves with that one, after they ravaged my world," said the newcomer, as he pointed to a particular tattoo on Canderous' chest.
A quick glance showed Canderous which tattoo the man was referring to and he stated, "You're from Narvin."
The man gave him a curt nod of affirmation. "A glorious battle, your people fought with honor," said Canderous, as way of compliment.
"They did not fight hard enough to keep you animals from destroying our world!" snarled the newcomer.
"Shadeer!" hissed a voice from among the group.
Standing up from the bed, Canderous looked down and appraised Shadeer, standing in front of him. The man was a good eight inches shorter than the Mandalorian, thin, with blonde hair, blue eyes and an angry scar running down his left cheek.
"I'd watch your mouth," growled Canderous, while staring at the smaller man.
"Why?" scoffed Shadeer, "You're a slave like us now…How did that happen?" He refused to allow the Mandalorian to intimidate him.
For a moment Canderous pondered the question, as he thought about a reply. He did not wish to blow their cover but neither did he wish to compromise his honor. Finally he replied, "Mistress Anju defeated me in honorable combat. I serve her willingly."
"That little thing beat you!" Shadeer laughed in his face.
"I may serve her," ground out Canderous, between clenched teeth, "but I have my honor! You would do well not to forget it!"
"Honor!? What honor?" spit out Shadeer, who was so consumed with his own anger he did not see Canderous' clenched fists or the storm brewing in his grey eyes. "You and your kind are nothing more than animals!"
Unable to restrain himself any longer, Canderous smashed the smaller man's nose with his fist. Blood started to flow from Shadeer's broken nose but he was only momentarily stunned. A second later he charged Canderous, driving a shoulder into the bigger man's stomach, forcing the air from his lungs and taking him to the floor. Three of the room's four other occupants jumped into the fray and helped Shadeer.
As he went to the floor, Canderous used the blonde's momentum against him and holding onto him, pulled him to the floor too. After striking the floor, he continued the roll, ending up sitting on his attacker's chest. Taking advantage of the situation he quickly struck the man twice in the head, before jumping to his feet and putting some distance between him and his adversaries, as they circled around him.
Shadeer climbed to his feet, wiping the blood from his nose and mouth. Feeling confident with numbers on his side, he threatened, "You'll pay for that!"
As his lust for combat escalated, Canderous smiled at Shadeer's threat and he motioned to the other man to 'come on', while he said, "I doubt it!"
With a quick nod at a dark-haired man, Shadeer charged towards at his foe, while the second man tried to sneak up behind the Mandalorian. Waiting until the last moment to step out of the way, Canderous tripped the man as he went past and shoved him into the man directly behind him. The pair fell to the ground in a tangled mess but the other two men attempted to use the action as a distraction.
One of the men came at Canderous from the left side and managed to blindside the warrior with a surprising blow to the head. At that moment the other opponent picked up a chair and came at the Mandalorian from the right side, swinging it at his head. Seeing the chair coming, he ducked out of the way and it struck the other man, knocking him cold.
Stunned that he injured his comrade the chair swinger froze momentarily and Canderous launched himself at the man, taking him to the ground. A couple of swift blows to the man's head and he was unconscious.
While Canderous was busy with the other two, Shadeer and his companion managed to untangle themselves and get to their feet. Looking around they found the large man straddling one of their cohort, reigning blows down on his head. Slowly coming up behind the Mandalorian as he stood up, the dark-haired man took a chance and using his weight, dove at the large man's unprotected back, driving his shoulder into Canderous' lower back. The slave was rewarded with a startled grunt of pain, as he wrapped his arms around Canderous' waist, managing to trap one arm, as they fell to the floor.
Raising one arm, Canderous attempted to keep his head from striking the hard floor but only managed to soften the blow. His cheekbone, the one Pol healed, and his forehead hit the floor, momentarily knocking him senseless. As he came to his senses, someone was viciously kicking him in the ribcage. His other foe was sitting on his back reigning down blows from above.
Knowing if he didn't stop the attack soon, the pair could kill him, Canderous managed to grab Shadeer's foot as attempted another kick to the ribs. He twisted and yanked it towards him, pulling Shadeer off balance and causing him to fall hard to the floor. Struggling to free himself, the blonde man used his other foot to kick Canderous in the head and free his foot. The slave quickly scrambled away, momentarily leaving his compatriot to deal with the Mandalorian.
After a moment of twisting and turning around, Canderous managed to knock the dark-haired man from his back. Reaching around he grabbed a bottle that had been knocked from a nearby table and hit his foe in the side of the head with it, knocking him smooth out.
Scrambling to his feet, Shadeer snatched a knife off the table and with a bellow of rage, ran at his opponent, who had just turned and faced the smaller man. With a quick slash of the blade the slave managed to cut the Mandalorian's bicep but with lightening fast reflexes Canderous managed to catch Shadeer's wrist. Violently twisting the man's arm, he caused Shadeer to cry out in agony and drop the knife. Twisting it further, Canderous snapped the man's wrist and with one quick movement delivered an elbow blow to his head that knocked him cold.
Spinning on his heels Canderous faced the one man left in the room still conscious, aside from himself, the one man yet to partake in the fight. Seeing the bloody Mandalorian's attention focused on him the slave raised his hands in the air and said, "I have no fight with you. Shadeer got what he deserved."
"Very wise," said Canderous as he began to relax. He spit blood to the floor and gently touched his injured cheekbone. It was swollen and tender; his eye was already starting to swell shut. 'Damn! Pol ain't gonna be happy!' It felt broke again.
"That was one hell of a fight. You beat them four on one!"
Canderous just grunted in reply and swayed slightly.
Finally noticing the Mandalorian's injuries and the blood splattering the floor, the slave said, "Hey your hurt!" He stood up to help Canderous and said, "Here sit down, let me see to your wounds."
Pulling away, Canderous argued, "I am fine, I just need a couple of kolto packs."
With a snort of disgust, the slave said, "Ain't got no kolto, not like they're gonna waste it on the likes of us." Again trying to direct the large man towards a chair, he added, "Come on just let see to your wounds."
Knowing Pol crammed a few kolto packs into the knapsacks before they left the Ebon Hawk, Canderous just wanted to leave the slave quarters and make his way to her room. Then the thought of drawing more unwanted attention to himself by wandering down the halls covered in blood hit him but he still refused to allow the other man to see to his wounds.
"Name's K'yan," his new acquaintance said.
"Vlad."
"I can't do anything for your cheek but I could treat that knife wound," K'yan asked again. He added, "I usually see to the slave's wounds."
Waving a hand, Canderous said, "It will heal." He did not say anything when he saw the puzzled look on K'yan's face. Glancing around the room he said, "Looks like you're going to be busy anyways."
"True, but they got what they deserved."
"He shouldn't have insulted my honor," replied Canderous, as he walked towards a small sink in the corner of the room. Glancing in the mirror he looked at his swollen cheek. 'Definitely broke..."
Grabbing two nearby towels, he put them in the sink and soaked them in cold water. After a moment, he took them and a third towel, which was still dry and returned to the table. Canderous sat down and placed one of the cold towels against his injured cheek.
Looking at Shardeer's fallen body, K'yan commented, "Boy's been spoiling for a fight."
"He got one."
"More than he could handle too."
Next Canderous took the other damp towel and started cleaning the blood from the knife wound to his arm. He found the gash was not large but it was deep, cutting into the muscle.
Glancing at the wound, K'yan commented, "It may need a few stitches to close it."
"No."
"You sure?"
"Yes," rumbled Canderous, "No stitches."
K'yan just shrugged and thought, 'Ain't my arm.' Picking up the dry towel he ripped it into strips for the Mandalorian.
Canderous gave him a quick nod of gratitude as he picked up a long strip and wrapped around his injured arm. When he finished he stood and walked back towards his bunk, grabbing his shirt. He gingerly pulled it on and started buttoning it up. Without further comment to K'yan he turned and stalked to the door.
"Where you going?" asked the other man.
"Leaving."
"You coming back?"
"Later," replied Canderous, as closed the door behind him and started down the hall to Pol's room.
Anju's Quarters
Pol had a long and grueling day. Her morning started with a meeting with Master Yuthera, who just wanted to make sure Pol had followed directions and used the exo-dermal poison on Master Uthar's bed. After receiving reassurances that Pol managed to reach the room undetected and execute the plan, Master Yuthera gave Pol her schedule and dismissed her, with orders to return the next morning at 7 am.
She made her way through a day of classes, filled with apprentices that were either angry with her or jealous of her quick ascension in the ranks. Each went out of their way to show their hostilities and make sure Pol understood she had no friends. Even the instructors were not pleased with the new addition to their ranks, figuring she used her previous training to unfair advantage.
To top off her day she had been informed by other apprentices of her slave's unprovoked attack and injury of their slaves. They each demanded justice and wanted to "administer" it themselves.
Pol coolly informed them, "I will see to Vlad myself and I certainly do not believe the attack was 'unprovoked' and I will not tolerate anyone harassing him." 'Though he does not need me to defend him,' thought Pol. She silently worried, 'What happened Chief?'
Rounding the corner to her room, she saw Canderous standing outside the door. Looking closely at his face, she noticed one cheekbone was bruised and his eye was starting to swell shut. 'Damn Chief! You broke your cheekbone again!' Opening the door to her room she stormed past him and demanded, "What happened today?" Silently she added, 'Are you ok Chief?'
Though she did not voice it, Canderous could see the concern reflected in Pol's dark eyes. "A few of the other slaves took exception to a Mandalorian in their midst," he told her. With his eyes he attempted to dismiss her unspoken concern, though with one eye being swollen it didn't work well. 'I am fine Champ.'
Sitting down on the bed, she tried to relax and said, "Tell me what happened."
Canderous filled in her own on the events of his day, including the news of the Mandalorian freighter captain and finishing with a blow by blow description of the fight. "So Shadeer did not heed your warning?" 'Big mistake!' thought Pol.
"Nor did he the second one," Canderous informed her, "He continued to insult my honor."
"He got what he deserved." 'He's lucky to be alive!' added Pol silently. She knew you were fortunate to survive insulting a Mandalorian's honor once, let alone twice. After that thought, she asked, "You didn't kill him?"
Shaking his head, Canderous answered, "Just broke his wrist Mistress."
"Good," replied Pol, "Come here." Suspiciously he moved to the spot she indicated in front of her. "Stoop down here so I can heal your injuries."
"My arm is fine Mistress," protested Canderous. No way Pol! He still did not like the thought of her using her abilities to heal him.
"We shall get to your arm in a minute," replied Pol, "I was referring to your cheek." Again!
"You need not was waste your energy Mistress," said Canderous, his eyes clearly telling her, he did not like her taking advantage of this masquerade to heal him, when she knew he did not like it. "A kolto pack will suffice."
Though she knew she'd pay for it later, Pol said, "Shall I make it an order?" her eyes twinkled at him.
Canderous growled under his breath, his eyes clearly saying 'wait til I get you alone' but he knelt down.
Smiling at her victory, Pol gently laid her hand on his swollen cheek. Reaching out with her force sense, she found his cybernetic implant had already gone to work, healing most of his cuts and bruises. The only thing left was his broken cheekbone. She quickly sent some healing energy, knitting the bone neatly and taking away much of the swelling. She decided not to push her luck further and did not delve into his old injuries again.
Finished she asked, "Better?"
"Yes," he reluctantly said, as he stood up.
Suddenly finding she was ravenous, she changed the subject and asked, "Is dinner ready?"
"Its right here Mistress," answered Canderous as he handed her a tray
"You didn't burn it this time?"
"No ma'am."
Taking a bite, she complimented, "Very good Vlad."
"Thank you Mistress."
He stood silently as she quickly finished off the tray of food. Standing she informed him, "I think I shall take another long shower tonight Vlad." Turning toward the 'fresher door, she added, "See that I am not disturbed."
Pol went into the refresher and turned on the water. She found her stealth unit right where she had hidden, put it on and activated it. Once again, she had left the bathroom door ajar and slipped back into the main room. Having sensed her presence, Canderous nonchalantly picked up her tray and headed for the door. He opened it, allowing her the chance to slip out and closed it behind both of them. He took the tray back to the kitchen, as she took off to fill her obligation to Master Yuthera.
Master Uthar's Apartments
This evening she quickly made her way to Master Uthar's Apartment, having been there once she did not need to locate them. She easily slipped past the patrols and again used the security codes to gain access to his rooms. Quickly, she placed the exo-dermal poison in his bed, before turning her attention elsewhere.
She returned to the computer terminal and with the codes Canderous had supplied, hacked her way into Uthar's private files. 'Jackpot little brother!' thought Pol, when a few short minutes later she found the proof Carth would need to convince Dustil of the Sith's evil. Apparently Master Uthar ordered a friend of Dustil's, Selene, killed because he felt she was interfering with Dustil's training.
She copied the files to her datapad and before turning off the terminal, wiped it clean of any evidence that she had been there. She made sure her stealth generator and slipped back into the hall and silently returning to her room.
Anju's Quarters
Having stalled in the kitchen, to give Pol time to complete her mission, Canderous returned to her room and only had to linger a minute for her return. When he sensed her presence, he opened the door and waited for her to enter. He felt her drag her hand across his chest seductively as she passed and he almost groaned with pleasure. I'll get you woman!
He closed the door behind them and waited near a wall for Pol to emerge from the 'fresher. A few minutes later she returned her dark, wet hair hanging down her back, wearing only a short robe. Sitting down on the bed, she started slowly brushing out her long tresses.
Taking the brush from her hands, he sat down behind her and said, "Allow me Mistress."
While he sensuously brushed out her, he ran his fingers through her dark locks, massaging her temples. After a few minutes work, Pol's hair was neat but her body was screaming for more of Canderous' manly attentions. She leaned against him, her body seeking out contact with his.
He finished and sat the brush on the bed. Running a hand down the length of her arm,
"Do you need anything else Mistress?"
Getting hold of her desires she replied, "No Vlad, I think that will be all for the night." Not fair Chief!
"If you need nothing else I shall return to my quarters." Canderous hated the thought of returning there. He wouldn't get any sleep, being alert for another attack. Not to mention, he missed the comfort of Pol sleeping next to him. Even if she kicked him all night!
"No, that will be all." Worry was clearly evident in Pol's eyes as she thought, 'be careful Chief!' She didn't really want him to leave; she wanted him here where he was safe!
As he was leaving, she called, "And Vlad, don't burn the toast in the morning."
His only response was a grunt, as rolled over and tried to go to sleep.
TBC
A/N: So what do you think? Please review and give me some feedback…thanks!