by Joanna Wylde
Kresn nodded, and reached out a hand for Moriah.
“Bethany’s right,” he said. “Jess isn’t going to hurt her. I’m more worried about him hurting me,” he added with a grin. “Let’s go.”
Moriah looked to Bethany one last time, then took Kresn’s hand. Bethany noticed with a pang how gently he touched her, as if she were incredibly fragile and might break at any moment.
Jess never treated her that way.
Then the door was closed and she carefully locked it. She went back to the pallet and sat down to wait for him. It didn’t take long. The door slid open and he entered the room. She was struck by his sheer size, just as she was every time she saw him. He was so much bigger than any man she’d ever met before.
“I hear you had a visitor,” Jess said softly, his voice dangerously soft. A chill ran down her spine, but she refused to show how nervous he made her. She hadn’t done anything wrong, she reminded herself. And neither had Moriah. She took a deep breath, steeling her courage.
“You know,” she said, ignoring his comment, “you sleep with me every cycle. If I wanted to hurt or fight you I could have done it by now.”
“I don’t think you want to hurt me,” he said.
“Then why do you keep me cooped up here?”
“For your own safety,” he replied. “You can’t go back in with the women, and I’m afraid to leave you alone with the men. You know that already.”
“So if you’re only keeping me here for my own safety,” she said lightly, “then I don’t understand why you would be upset that I have a visitor. I can only assume you don’t want me to have any information about what’s happening to the others.”
“We’ve been over this before,” Jess said, running a hand through his tousled black hair. He didn’t look as angry as he had before. By asking him questions she’d managed to deflect him. Something to remember. “The women and children are fine because Logan and I are protecting them. I told you we’d take care of them.”
“I have no reason to trust you,” she said quietly. “You’ve already used me to betray my people. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
“No,” he said coolly. “They were men who held me captive. I saw them kill slaves who were helpless to defend themselves simply because they couldn’t work any longer. It was only a matter of time before their actions led to my death, either directly or indirectly. As far as I’m concerned this was a matter of self-defense. It’s not my fault that they refused to surrender. We didn’t go into this intending it to be a fight to the death.”
She nodded, and looked away. It amazed her that he could remain so calm over so many deaths. What kinds of things had he suffered to grow emotional calluses that strong?
“Moriah told me you’re giving the women a choice over where they’re going after this.”
“Yes, we’re giving them a choice,” he said, coming to sit beside her. She inhaled and smelled his scent. Tangy, sweaty. Masculine. She felt a tightening in her nipples, and sighed, leaning her head back against the wall. Why was it that all she could think about when she was around him was sex? No wonder she hadn’t gotten any information from him over the past two cycles. It was as if her body had been taken over by a complete stranger.
“Why?”
“Why?” he repeated, his mouth twisting in dark humor. “Maybe because we’re all too familiar with what it feels like to not have choices. Have you considered that? Maybe we’re human and have compassion for those around us. For a group of women who just lost all their menfolk, your people seem pretty happy. Quite of few have told us they don’t want to go back to another Pilgrim settlement. More than I could have imagined, actually. “
“It isn’t as if our lives here have been pleasant,” Bethany said. “I suppose there were a few good marriages, though. Moriah had one before her husband died in an accident. What about me?”
“What about you?” he asked.
“Do I get that same choice?” she asked. “Moriah tells me that you won’t be going with Logan and the others. You have some other plan. Do I get to pick where I’ll end up in all of this?”
He stayed silent for a moment. One of his hands reached down and captured hers. He lifted it between them, playing with her fingers
“No,” he said finally. “You’ll be coming with me.”
“What if I’d rather stay with Moriah and the other women?” she asked.
“The other women hate you,” he said. “You wouldn’t be safe with them.”
“I’d be safe with the women who are happy to escape this place, the ones going with Logan,” she said. “Moriah thinks that I helped with the revolt. She doesn’t seem to care.”
“It doesn’t matter,” he replied. “You’ll be going with me. Accept it.”
“I don’t have a choice in this?”
“No, you don’t,” he replied. He turned to her, reaching out and cupping her chin in his fingers. He searched her face with those dark blue eyes and his expression grew intense, dangerous. She shivered.
“From the first time I saw you, I knew I was meant to have you,” he said. “I wanted you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone or anything in my life. Now that we’re together, I’m not going to let you go.”
He leaned over and kissed her, his mouth taking hers roughly, as if to emphasize the point. For a brief moment she tried to fight against it. She wanted answers, not sex.
She was lying to herself.
She wanted sex all right. As soon as his lips touched hers, it was all she could do to keep herself from straining against him. Then his arms were coming around her, pulling her against him. He dragged her across his body until she clutched at his neck to keep from falling. His tongue thrust into her again and again. She could feel his cock prodding at her hip, searching blindly to get closer to her.
One of his hands came around the back of her head, fisting tightly into her hair. His head slanted across hers, his mouth plunging into her depths and taking as much as he could before rolling her over onto the pallet.
His weight came over her, crushing her down. His knees pushed between her legs, thrusting them apart as she bucked up at him, desperate to feel him within her body. He groaned in response; his fingers fumbled at his pants. She tried to reach down and help, but he captured her hands with his, holding her prisoner. He raised his head from hers, then spoke.
“You are mine. Mine. No one else gets to touch you, do you understand?”
She nodded, mesmerized.
He lifted his hips and thrust into her without preparation. She gasped at the sudden intrusion, but her body had prepared itself, hot and ready for him. He stretched her open, impaling her with his cock, and allowed his head to drop down toward hers.
“Mine,” he whispered again, this time softly in her ear. “You are mine.”
He punctuated the declaration with steady strokes into her.
“Who do you belong to?” he asked harshly when she didn’t respond. He lifted his head, midnight eyes seeming to look down deep into her soul. “Who do you belong to?” he repeated, voice growing strained. She closed her eyes and shook her head, unwilling to answer him. He stopped his steady thrusting, and slowly pulled his cock partway out of her body. She whimpered, lifting her hips toward him. It wasn’t enough.
“Who do you belong to?” he asked a third time. She kept shaking her head, and he pulled out of her completely. He transferred both of her hands to one of his, and reached down between them. His fingers found her clit, touching it lightly. She jumped, and he laughed without humor.
His fingers started a slow stroke up and down her clit, tweaking it as he moved back and forth. She whimpered in protest but he ignored her, focusing instead on his fingers’ slow movements. Sparkles of sensation came to life at the center of her being. They started in her clit, spreading out in slow circles through her pelvis before skittering up her body to her nipples. The opening between her legs felt so empty. The space he had once stretched to the point of pain cried out for hi
m now. Desire wound its way through her and she twisted with need. A part of her felt angry, betrayed. Why was her own body doing this to her? It wasn’t right that he should be able to control her responses so easily.
“Who do you belong to?” he asked once more, fingers slowing in their exploration of her crevices. She shook her head, whimpering. She wasn’t going to give in to him, not like this. He thought he owned her, she reminded herself. He couldn’t own her. She wasn’t going to allow it. His fingers stabbed into her again and she gasped. One finger, two, three fingers entered her body, his thumb still moving restlessly across her clit. She twisted and he laughed again.
“I think you belong to me now,” he said softly. “I think you know it, too. You don’t like it, but you can’t control yourself. You’re mine.”
She didn’t bother to shake her head in denial this time. It was taking every bit of her strength not to break down and beg him for release. She kept remembering how he felt inside of her, how he would stretch her open, moving slowly at first before going faster and faster. She would feel her muscles start to shiver and trembled, and his cock would swell inside her body. Jess pulled his fingers out of her body abruptly, and the illusion was broken.
“Please,” she whispered, beyond fighting. “Please…”
“Who do you belong to?” he asked a final time, and she broke down.
“I belong to you,” she said. “Please, I need you inside of me.”
He positioned the head of his cock against her entrance, pressed in lightly then stopped.
“I want to hear it again.”
“I belong to you,” she said again, tears of frustration running down her face. “I belong to you, dammit. Now fuck me before I die.”
He laughed again, the sound low and dark. Then he shoved the entire length of his cock into her with one smooth motion. Her frayed nerves exploded and she bucked against him. All the tension that had built up in her body tightened in on that one moment; she flew into oblivion. She could hear him panting in her ears as he thrust into her body toward his own pleasure, but it was as if she were in a universe all her own. She simply lay there, basking in the pleasure and surreal brilliance of her orgasm.
She really did belong to him, she mused, still caught in a sense of unreality. Her body certainly didn’t have any doubts. She couldn’t imagine anything better than this; nothing could be more perfect. He released her hands, bracing both palms on the pallet beside her head. His upper body rose, allowing him to slam into her more fully. She raised her legs and clenched them tightly around his back, holding him deep within her body as his orgasm hit. He gasped, shuddering. She could feel him pulsating within her and she smiled as the hot seed hit her cervix.
He belonged to her, too, she thought with satisfaction. He needed her just as much as she needed him. He collapsed against her, breaking her train of thought, and she wrapped her arms around him. They lay there together for several minutes, panting. No wonder it was so hard for her to think when he was around, she thought wryly. Every time they touched, they exploded.
After several moments he lifted himself from her body and stood. He turned away as he tucked himself into his pants, erecting an invisible wall between them with his silence. It was far too early for sleep; he would be leaving her now. He always did after moments like this. They had to talk.
“Jess, wait,” she said.
“What?” he asked, turning back to her. He suddenly seemed so cold, so distant. She sat up and pulled her skirt over her naked flesh. She felt embarrassed, almost dirty.
“We need to talk about what’s going to happen to us,” she said softly. “I want to know what your plans are. I want to know what’s going to happen to me.”
“I’ll take care of you,” he said tightly. “You don’t need to worry about anything else.”
“I’d still like to know where we’re going. Moriah tells me you’re taking the fourth ship. You aren’t going with Logan?”
“No,” he said tightly. He turned, making it clear the conversation was over. She sat back against the wall, pulling up her knees and wrapping her arms around them. She felt utterly alone. Against her will, she felt tears building up in her eyes and she wiped them away quickly. Without thinking she sniffed, and he turned back to her.
“Oh, shit,” he muttered, coming back to sit next to her. He pulled her into his arms and she allowed the tears to flow. For the first time in months—years—she allowed herself to let go, to feel all the frustration and hurt she’d pushed back so many times. It felt good to just let him hold her, to feel his arms around her and collapse against his chest.
He stroked her hair until she stopped crying, and kept stroking it while she hiccupped for a few minutes. Then he reached down and lifted her face with one finger, kissing her softly on the lips. It was a sweet kiss, undemanding and comforting, and the kindness of it almost made her start crying again.
He finished his kiss and pulled away from her. She looked into his eyes, and was suddenly struck again by how much he resembled Logan. Without thinking, she asked, “Are you brothers?”
“What?”
“Are you and Logan brothers?” she repeated. “You look so much alike, I can’t help but wonder.”
“No,” he said after a long pause, his face troubled. “Why were you thinking about Logan while I was kissing you?”
“I wasn’t thinking about Logan,” she said, feeling herself smile. It felt good to smile, she realized. “But you do look like him. Are you related? I don’t know anything about you.”
‘No, we’re not,” he said finally. “I’ve been a slave all my life. I was created and raised in on an Imperial slave farm. Logan is Saurellian. The Saurellians are at war with the Empire.”
“What are we?” she asked. “I mean, here in this asteroid field? Are we Imperial or Saurellian?”
“We’re Saurellian right now,” he said slowly. “Or at least we were when I was sold to your father. But we had only been under Saurellian control for a short time. Who knows what we are now.”
“Which would you rather we be?” she asked. “I mean, what would be better?”
“I don’t know,” he said slowly, tucking her into the crook of his arm. She snuggled up to him, allowing herself to simply enjoy his touch for once. “I don’t suppose it matters to me all that much. I doubt either of them will care very much about a small slave revolt on a Pilgrim mining station. They have more important things to worry about.”
“So where are we going?” she asked again softly. “If we’re going together, don’t you think I should know?”
He sighed, then nodded.
“I suppose so,” he said softly. “I’m not used to telling other people my plans.”
“Well, I’m not used to having plans,” she replied lightly. “But a lot of things have changed.”
“We’re going to find my sister,” Jess said after a pause. “Her name is Calla, and she’s a slave at Discovery Station. She’s owned by a Pilgrim woman named Jenner. I can’t leave her behind.”
“I didn’t know you had a sister,” Bethany said. “I guess I don’t really know all that much about you.”
“No, you don’t,” he replied, giving her a gentle kiss on the top of her head. He pulled her tighter and his voice grew distant. “You know nothing about me at all.”
Part III: The Journey
Chapter Eleven
Jess gazed through the ship’s view-screen at the massive space station where he had lived for most of his life. Discovery Station. The name was so promising, implied so much hope for the future. In reality it was a cesspit. There was no promise here, just load after load of ore from the asteroid belt being processed into the raw materials for an empire. Or maybe a federation, Jess thought with wry humor. It hardly mattered who was in charge of the station. All he cared about was getting his sister and returning for Bragan.
They’d been forced to leave the doctor behind. He had removed the slave implants from most of the men successfully, but ev
en with all his training, ten of the men had died. No one had been even close to being capable of removing Bragan’s implant. The irony of the situation was hardly lost on Jess. When he and Bethany had set out for Discovery Station nearly two months before, he had promised Bragan that he would return with a doctor to rescue him. Jess had every intention of keeping that promise. He figured they would be able to shave about 20 days off their return trip if he could trade the ore freighter they were traveling in now for something smaller and faster. It seemed likely that they’d be able to. There was always a demand on Discovery for freighters. In addition, the ore they carried was worth a small fortune. It should be more than enough to cover their needs.
The ship shuddered beneath him as he turned away from the viewing portal. They were docked at one of the ore processing centers while their cargo was unloaded. He’d already negotiated a decent price, although he hadn’t been able to glean much information. The sale had been made long-distance. The refining plant itself was completely automated. It would take them another 26 hours to unload all the cargo, and then he and Bethany would go to the main station. The thought of it made his stomach hurt.
If he wasn’t very, very careful, she might be able to get away from him there.
He walked back toward the small cabin they had made their own for the past two months. She had already packed what few things they had into a small rucksack. Now she was in the fresher, cleaning up. He could hear her singing a little song, her voice slightly out of tune. She was always singing like that. He’d asked her once if they were Pilgrim songs, and she’d given an embarrassed laugh. She’d made them up all by herself. He’d found himself humming them off and on as time went by. Just one more thing about Bethany that fascinated him.
Another shudder shook the ship, filling Jess with a sense of desperation. The past two months had been like some kind of wonderful dream. They’d been living for the moment, some days not even bothering to get out of bed. Now it was all ending. He needed to be close to her.
