Finally frustration drove Celeste to recklessness. “Did you bring me all this way just to watch?” she snarled, staring hungrily at the tempting erection he slowly stroked. “If that was all you wanted, you should have told me. I could have found some guy back home, and you could have played invisible pervert all you wanted.”
Jarred’s eyes snapped up to hers. “Nobody else gets you,” he growled. “You’re mine.” He stepped even closer until the thick thatch covering his balls brushed the curls on her cunt. His shaft jutted just over her belly, and her heart leaped with the hope that now, finally, he’d take her.
Instead one big hand began pumping his cock ferociously as the other caressed his tight testicles. “And I am going to fuck you, Celeste. Deep and hard. You’re going to pay for every instant of pain you ever gave me with any kind of pleasure I want.”
The tube inside her thrust in short, fierce digs, keeping pace with Jarred’s big hand as he jacked himself off. She clenched her teeth and shut her eyes, feeling her hovering orgasm about to break wide as the rack fucked her while her hero . . .
“Look at me, dammit!”
Celeste’s eyes flew wide just as his rod began to jet. White cream struck her belly and breasts, pooling there as he threw back his head and arched his brawny chest with a groan. Every muscle in his body stood out in relief. She drew in a breath to scream as her own climax broke . . .
And everything stopped. The rack released her nipples, withdrew from her sex, and went still beneath her body. As her climax died into a stillborn whimper, Celeste stared at Jarred in open-mouthed shock. A drop of his semen rolled down one nipple. More of it pooled in her belly button. “You son of a bitch,” she breathed.
But she could tell he hadn’t even heard the insult. The pleasure on his handsome face was too stark as his muscled body shuddered through the last of his orgasm.
Jarred reeled against the rack as if his legs had gone weak. He leaned there a moment before pulling himself upright. The dazed sensuality on his face faded as he looked down at the rage she knew must be visible in her eyes.
“Frustrated, sweetheart?” Smirking, he fastened his trousers. “Now you know how I’ve felt for the past decade.”
“I didn’t realize I was doing a damn thing to anybody, and you know it!”
“True, but the effect was the same.” Jarred’s gaze flicked to his own semen as it rolled down her breasts and belly. He grinned. “But I’d say I’ve made a good start on my revenge—and started proving something I’ve suspected all along.”
Simmering, she thought of everything she’d like to do to him, do once she got her hands free. “What—that you’re a sadistic bastard? I could have told you that.”
“No.” He leaned forward and braced a hand against the rack’s headrest so his breath gusted warm and spicy against her face. “That you’re a sexsub.”
She recoiled in shock. “I am not!”
“You can’t lie to a man with sensor implants, Celeste. It aroused you to be bound and naked for me. And I knew it would. I realized you were a sexsub months ago when I saw your reaction to that kinky little story you wrote about De’Lar and me.”
“I am not a submissive!” Celeste ground between her teeth. “I have no desire to be anyone’s slave, even yours.” Catching the implied admission, she added hastily, “Especially yours!”
“Now that is an out-and-out lie.” He straightened and ran a hand through his hair, smoothing it. “Not that it matters. You are going to be someone’s slave. Not mine, but someone’s. Gag.”
That last word had been directed at the rack, which instantly slid a broad pseudopod across her mouth, muffling her outraged curse.
Jarred looked over his shoulder. “Glad you could join us, De’Lar.”
De’Lar? she thought in horror. Oh, God! No, don’t call him with me lying here naked and covered in come!
Gagged, still in the grip of the now-frozen rack, Celeste watched as a tall, muscular blond faded into view near the doorway of the holding tank. She knew the figure was only a three-dimensional image of the real man, who stood in his planetary palace God knew how many light years away.
The com image’s handsome face broke into a grin as his eyes focused on her spread and helpless nudity. “When you first messaged me, I planned to tell you what I thought about being used as a dumping ground for all the inconvenient women you can’t bring yourself to kill,” De’Lar said. “But I think instead I’ll just be grateful. She’s luscious, Jarred. Who is she, where did you get her—and did you mean it when you said you were going to give her to me?”
Give me to . . . ? Celeste thought, her shame turning to outrage. What the hell is Jarred planning now?
“She’s the bane of my existence,” her captor told De’Lar curtly, “and I’m giving her to you because I want her somewhere she can’t cause me any more grief. As to where she came from—you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
Oh, God, she thought in horror. Jarred’s going to turn me over to that kinky alien dominant the way he did Ayla!
“Somehow it sounds as if you’re not doing me a favor.” The lord of the Kyristari system frowned, his thick brows lowering over his brilliant green eyes. He was a remarkably handsome man, with a muscular, athletic build, set off to perfection by the elaborately embroidered silk robe that hung open across his massive chest. But then, she’d modeled the character on Mykhayl, so it stood to reason he’d be gorgeous. “I will not take a bitch into my cloister, Jarred. I have my hands full mediating between my sexsubs as it is.”
Jarred grinned. “And I’ll bet you work your . . . fingers to the bone keeping them all happy.” He looked back over his shoulder at her, his dark eyes hardening in warning. “But I can safely promise Celeste will make no trouble. Here, at least, she doesn’t have the power.”
Don’t bet on it, you big ’borg jerk, she thought, fuming. I’ll think of something.
De’Lar made an impatient gesture, the sleeve of his midnight blue robe sliding down to reveal a powerful forearm. “Be that as it may, I won’t take her at all if you can’t prove she’s a submissive. And judging from the fury snapping in those green eyes, I rather doubt it.”
Jarred laughed, but it was a dark sound. “Oh, she’s a submissive. She just doesn’t know it yet.”
A blond brow lifted. “You expect me to tame her?” De’Lar’s eyes flicked to her breasts. “Intriguing idea, but I don’t think Kyristari law is quite flexible enough to allow me to make the attempt.”
“Which is why I’m going to do it for you,” Jarred said, as she tried to will him into dropping dead. “It will take two weeks for us to arrive at Kyristari. By then, I’ll have convinced Celeste to embrace her nature—and compiled more than enough evidence to prove she’s a sexsub under the laws of your world.”
In your dreams, you son of a bitch.
“But are you sure you’ll want to give her up once you arrive?” De’Lar asked, his image strolling over to look down at her. She was acutely aware of the drying semen that covered her body.
Jarred snorted. “After fourteen days of screwing, I’ll be more than happy to see the back of her.”
“Really?” De’Lar looked up at him, raising a brow. “Forgive me, my friend, but you seem to be sending mixed messages. On the one hand, you say you’re going to give me this lovely prize of yours, but before you call, you shoot your seed all over her like an alpha bloodwolf marking its territory. If that doesn’t scream ‘Mine mine mine!’ I don’t know what does.”
Jarred stiffened as if someone had goosed him with a laser torch. When he spoke, his voice was icy with dignity. “Don’t make more of this than she deserves. It’s taken me a decade to get my hands on her, that’s all. I just have to rid myself of the obsession.”
De’Lar turned a calculating gaze on her. “Some obsessions don’t die that easily, Jarred.”
“This one will.”
The king looked up at him for a long moment. “Well, she is lovely. I wouldn’t mind h
aving her . . . assuming you let me. I suppose we’ll both have an answer to that question in a couple of weeks.”
His image winked out.
His big body rigid, Jarred turned to glare down into her eyes. “De’Lar’s a romantic,” he said roughly. “I doubt it’ll even take that long to fuck you out of my system.”
He reached for the seal of his trousers.
She made a furious sound behind her gag. Jarred’s hands hesitated in mid-motion before he said, “All right, rack, let her talk.”
As soon as the muffling pseudopod left her lips, Celeste exploded. “You think you can just announce that you’re going to use me like a Kleenex and throw me away, then expect me to go along with it? I don’t think so, you ’borg bastard!”
“I hate to mention this,” Jarred said, giving her a slow, nasty smile that was somehow far more threatening than anything he’d aimed at her before, “but you are literally in no position to refuse.”
His shaft spilled out at her as he unsealed his fly. Given his computer implants, he didn’t have the normal human male’s lag time between erections. He stepped between her thighs.
“Use your sensors, cyborg,” she snapped, refusing to be intimidated. “I’m not willing. Or are you going to rape me the way that civie raped your mother?”
Jarred froze. For an instant something anguished moved behind his eyes. Then they hardened. “There’s the bitch goddess I know so well. Right for the jugular. I should have left on the gag.”
“Well, excuse me if I don’t want to be your human blow-up doll,” she grumbled, cursing herself mentally for the ridiculous spurt of guilt she felt. Jarred didn’t have many vulnerable spots; that he was conceived during a violent crime against his mother was one of the few.
His eyes flicked down her naked, semen-flecked body to her widespread thighs. Though her arousal had segued into outrage, she knew her sex was still wet. He focused his attention there, his expression speculative and slightly predatory. “I’ll make you a deal, goddess,” he said suddenly. “I won’t fuck you until you say yes.”
“Now, wait a minute . . .” she began, alarmed.
But he’d already gone to one knee. Before Celeste could even finish her protest, Jarred buried his face against her sex and began feasting like a lecherous version of Red Riding Hood’s wolf.
Her spine arched in shock at the hot sensation of his clever tongue playing between her lips, swirling around her clit, stabbing into her opening. As she twisted in the rack’s grip, he reached up her torso with both hands to capture her breasts. Long fingers kneaded the soft flesh while his thumbs flicked pink nipples that hardened with humiliating speed.
In minutes, the sensations he so skillfully created quickly overwhelmed her outrage. It was as though he licked and sucked the fury right out of her body.
Dizzily, Celeste stared down at the dark head between her thighs. She could feel the short, soft hair of his goatee tickling her bottom even as the silken black mop on his head caressed her inner thighs.
And his tongue . . . Oh, God, his tongue! He knew just how to use it to make her writhe, now flicking, now long, slow licks. At the same time, lips suckled and teeth nibbled as he worked the most sensitive part of her body with such skill it felt as if she was drowning in pleasure. In minutes he made her even hotter than the rack had with all its skillful pseudomouths and stroking probes.
But as much as she hated to admit it, it wasn’t just his talented eroticism that got to her, mind-blowing though it was. What really lit her fuse was the knowledge that she was being seduced by Jarred Varrain, the handsome fantasy hero of a decade’s worth of dreams, the sum total of everything she’d ever wanted in a man.
And something in her loved him, dark and tortured though he was. Despite his arrogance, despite his hunger for revenge and streak of cruelty, she wanted him.
So when he finally lifted his cream-smeared face and asked, “Do you want me?” she gasped, “Yes!”
And ignored the warning voice in the back of her head that howled “No!”
Saliva flooded Jarred’s mouth as he stood, took his erection in one hand and parted Celeste’s soft, slick lips with the other. He hoped she didn’t notice his hands were shaking.
Pausing, he savored the sight of her delicate pink sex with the big head of his cock poised at its fragile opening. His heart hammered in his chest. How many times had he jerked off, imagining her like this—bound and spread and wet? How many times had he imagined all the erotic ways he’d punish her?
Now he could do each and every one of them. He could make her beg. He could make her come. He could make her dance to his tune as he’d had to dance to hers.
Then he’d forget her.
“Wait!” she said suddenly.
He snarled. “I don’t think so.”
“Don’t . . . please don’t get me pregnant.” Her eyes seemed to take up her entire face. “I know you want your revenge, but don’t do that.”
Jarred sneered. “And leave a child of mine in your tender care? I don’t think so.” He made the comment mostly for effect. Thanks to his computer implant, there were no sperm in his semen anyway. He could change that if he ever decided to become a father, but now he wanted to leave no unintended children to suffer as he had.
Slowly Jarred eased forward, sliding the big head between Celeste’s still-creamy lips and into her tight opening. He heard her breath catch at the sensation and looked up, wanting to watch her face as he impaled her for the first time. The sight was even more arousing than his fantasies as her pretty green eyes widened with delicious shock.
“Oh God,” she breathed.
Jarred laughed. “Darling, you haven’t seen anything yet. Just wait.” He worked in a little deeper, loving the sensation of forcing her hot, slick, silken walls to spread around his aching shaft. “I’ve been planning my revenge a very long time.” Settling against her soft body, he slid in even farther, savoring the give of her breasts and belly, the smooth, satin texture of her thighs. As he drove the final inch, he slipped his hands under her butt and pulled her close.
She blinked rapidly in discomfort. He scanned her with his internal sensors, and smiled just slightly at the readout that flashed into his brain. “Does it hurt?” he asked tenderly.
Celeste licked her rosy lips. “A little.”
“Good,” he said, and began, very slowly, to thrust.
She’d always known that just beneath Jarred’s heroism and hunger for justice lay a streak of creative cruelty. Since he only indulged it with his collection of sadistic enemies, he must count her among the people he could torment with a clear conscience.
Not that he hurt her beyond the discomfort of that first slow entry. He was more wickedly subtle than that.
Thoroughly trapped and helpless in the rack’s grip, Celeste felt his massive cock possessing her in deceptively gentle digs that stroked and teased her slick tissues. Each clever thrust sent spasms of pleasure jolting through her body . . . and awakened some dark female need to submit.
What stung, though, was the way he watched her, the curl of triumphant pleasure in the corner of his sensual mouth, the gleam of conquest in his narrowed black eyes. Releasing her butt, he reached up to stroke each of her breasts in turn, thumbing her nipples until they sent sharp little zings of delight up her spine.
Somehow the sensations he created as he rode her felt so much hotter than anything she’d ever felt with another man. And much as it galled her to admit it, she knew that was because the pleasure came from Jarred’s hands, Jarred’s cock, Jarred’s body.
Jarred.
“Remember the time you had me locked up on Zyris?” he purred, circling his hips so that his cock seemed to bore into her like a corkscrew. “There was that one guard there—you remember, the big reptile with the pink stripe. He loved kicking me right in that one broken rib. Fractured three more of them that way. I thought he was going to puncture a lung.”
She gasped as he ground his pelvis against her clit, setting o
ff a dark starburst of pleasure. “Yeah, well, you got your revenge when you garroted him with your restraint cable.”
He grinned darkly. “I always get my revenge. Remember that.” Deliberately Jarred arched his spine, probing the mouth of her cervix hard enough to make her writhe at the blend of pain and pleasure. He relaxed the pressure and lowered himself over her until his goatee tickled her jaw. “You know, I thought about you the whole time they had me chained, there in the dark.” His breath puffed hot against her ear as he spoke. “Imagined putting you in chains. Stripping you. Fucking you. Making you beg the way I was too proud to.”
With each word, he picked up the pace until he was shafting her in long, driving strokes. Every time he entered, he twisted his hips in some magical way that probed spots deep inside her she’d never known about, bundles of hidden nerves that triggered searing pleasure. Evidently his cyborg sensors told him where those sensations were most intense, because he applied the knowledge ruthlessly, building her heat, escalating pleasure toward ecstasy.
But just as she was about to shoot right over the edge into a boiling orgasm, he stopped.
“Noooo,” she moaned. “Not again!”
He grinned demonically. “Ready to beg?”
His taunting tone jolted her to her senses, reawakening her sense of being misused. “Go to hell!”
“Already been,” he said, and began thrusting again, slowly, silk and heat. “This time it’s your turn.”
But it didn’t feel like hell. More like searing arousal that made her hunger mindlessly for the climax he dangled just out of reach. So close, so close, she began grinding against him, trying to force that last little bit of stimulation she needed. And he allowed it . . . until, just as she was about to tip over, he jerked from her body.
“Damn you!” she snarled, glaring as he crouched over her, his massive chest rising and falling in deep pants, his cock slick and violently red. “Let me finish!”
“Beg me,” he growled, his black eyes wild, his nostrils flaring like a runaway stallion’s.
Captive Dreams Page 21
