by Joanna Wylde
That’s not why I’m crying,” she replied, her voice breaking. “I’m scared, Jess. What will we do if this Jenner woman finds out you’re following her? What if she’s with other Pilgrims? They might hurt you.”
“I won’t let them hurt me,” he said.
“No?” she asked. “You think you’re so powerful? It’s a risk and you know it. Don’t you understand? We’re free, Jess. We have money. We have time. There’s nobody in the whole damn universe who knows or cares where we’re going. Why are we following this woman when we could be making a life for ourselves?”
“Because I have to,” he said, still holding her. “I have to do this, for my sister and for myself.”
“You aren’t even sure where to find her,” she said quietly. “There are a thousand places she could be, a million places. We could look for her the rest of our lives and never find her. Do you really think your sister would want you to waste your freedom on some stupid quest for revenge?”
He stayed silent, trying not to think of what Calla would say. Calla would agree with Bethany, he knew it in his heart.
But Calla and Bethany were women. They needed protection from the harsh things of life, couldn’t possibly understand why he had to find Jenner, to kill her. Every time Bethany sniffled, pain ripped through him. He hated this; hate the fact that she was suffering. He had to get her to stop crying or he would end up crazy.
So he lifted his head again, this time taking her mouth in a kiss that was completely different from that he’d given her before. This was a kiss meant to seduce. He nibbled at her lips, ignoring the salty taste of her tears, and she opened before him.
He pulled her entire body forward on the chair so that her breasts were pressing against his chest and her legs wrapped around him. He dug his fingers into her hair, holding her still for his touch, and as his tongue delved into her mouth, she whimpered. She shifted against him and his cock leapt to attention. There was nothing new in that; it seemed like he’d had a full erection since the first time he’d seen her. No matter how much they made love, it was never enough.
He pulled his mouth away, ignoring her little sigh of disappointment as the kiss ended. His lips fell to her neck. There he traced the lines of her throat with one hand, each light touch followed by a kiss. He was filled with the realization of how special she was to him, how much his happiness was intricately and inevitably wound up in hers. He didn’t have any way to tell her his feelings with words, though. He had to let his touch speak; he could only hope she would understand.
She whispered something as he kissed the hollow at the bottom of her throat, but he ignored it. If she was telling him to stop, he didn’t want to hear it. He had to show her how much she meant to him, that they were made for each other.
She sighed and leaned back in the chair, allowing her arms to fall to one side. He took advantage of the change by gently opening the front of her blouse. It was soft, silky. So different from anything she’d worn on the Pilgrim station that he’d been concerned at fist that she wouldn’t like it.
She had loved it, just as she loved all the new clothing he brought her. She treated each item like an exquisite gift, though they were clothing any other woman would take for granted. She took nothing for granted, he thought. It was just one more thing he loved about Bethany. She was so very alive.
He kissed down the opening of her shirt, enjoying the feel of her breasts rising on either side of his face. He moved down along the curve of one, dropping light kisses on it and nosing the underside of the swell with infinite gentleness. She gasped, and he smiled. He did the same to the other side, taking care not to touch her nipples. Indeed, fabric clung to them, twin points keeping the silky fabric from falling away to either side. He sat back for a minute, just enjoying the sight of her. She was spread before him wantonly, her face filled with nothing more than sheer pleasure in the moment.
He reached up with both hands, cupping her breast lightly through the fabric, allowing it to slide back and forth across her nipples until she shivered. The tight tips pressed against his fingers, and she arched her back in the chair.
“Jess…”
He smiled, then pushed the cloth aside. Her breasts were so lovely. Not too large, but full and round, gentle mounds topped with red nipples that cried out for some kind of attention from him. He wouldn’t leave them wanting, he vowed.
Leaning forward, he took one of them into his mouth, sucking it deeply. She gasped, and raised one had to cup his head. He ignored her, moving back slowly until her nipple was free. She whimpered a protest, but before she could do more, he started on the other nipple. Back and forth he went, sucking deeply one time, flicking lightly with his tongue the next. She was whimpering more and more, her lower body twisting in the chair. The time had come to move to the next level, he thought with satisfaction. Soon she would be screaming for him.
Careful not to break the sensual spell that had come over them, he trailed one finger down across her stomach, pausing only briefly at her navel, then slid it beneath the loose waistband of the silky pants that matched her top. She had loved this particular outfit immediately, he remembered with a smile. It was sensual and modern, but also similar to what she had worn most her life. The pants were full, almost as full as a skirt, and they flowed around her as she walked like a bright river. She had laughed at herself when she’d first seen herself wearing them in a mirror, but she looked beautiful.
The ache in his cock grew stronger; a damp spot appeared between her legs. She wanted him almost as much as he wanted her, he though in satisfaction. For one second he was tempted to simply rip the pants off and pull her down.
No.
This was about giving her pleasure, showing her how much she meant to him, he reminded himself. Beside that, she would be upset if he ripped the pants, he thought with a grin. No matter that a thousand other women owned pants just like them, they were precious to her.
Instead, he allowed his fingers to reach down past the elastic, pulling it lower as he went. There it was, the forest of dark brown curls that marked her most private place. He touched her there, fingers growing damp as her moisture washed over him. There was her clit, a tiny piece of flesh that had the power to give so much pleasure that the world was hardly big enough to contain it. He rubbed one finger against it, feeling the slick flesh glide smoothly over the rough skin of his finger. Above him, she shivered. Oh, she liked that all right.
He rubbed it again, this time pressing still lower between her legs, finding the folds of her labia and nudging them apart. Instinctively, her legs parted for him, giving him greater access. He dropped his head to her stomach, kissing it softly and trailing his tongue into the small indentation that marked its center. He slid his fingers into her body, resting his cheek against her stomach for a moment as the sheer need to be inside her nearly overwhelmed him. He froze, willing his unruly cock to behave. This was about her, not him.
When he felt like he was back in command of his own senses, he slid the finger in again, allowing a second digit to join it. Tenderly, he rubbed back and forth, moving in and out of her body with great care, as if she were some rare and precious porcelain he was afraid of breaking. The image brought a smile to his face. She was rare and precious, but she wouldn’t break. Not easily, he knew that for certain. How many women could have survived what she had, and with such courage?
He kissed her again, and then he trailed more kisses down her belly. He pulled his hand out from her pants, allowing the waistband to slide back up, then kissed down over the soft fabric. She shivered, and then he was at the spot between her legs where his fingers had teased her just seconds earlier. He pressed forward with his tongue, clearly outlining her clitoris through the silk, and she gasped.
“Jess, you’re going to kill me,” she whispered.
He didn’t reply, stiffening his tongue and centering it on her clit instead. She twisted against him so he brought both hands up to her hips to steady her. He wasn’t going to let anything
interfere with her pleasure, not now. Not when she was so close.
Inhaling her scent deeply, he set back to work on her clit. At first the fabric between them seemed a barrier, but as it grew wetter, it provided a delicious friction between them. Every tiny, perfect strand of silk massaged her clit as he moved. She bucked against him, silently begging him for more.
He renewed his efforts, determined to bring her to orgasm with only his tongue. He stabbed her with it again and again until her hands gripped the back of his head, pulling him closer to her body. She was shaking and gasping; she had to be close. Now to bring her over the edge.
Without warning, he let go of her hips and reached down under her legs. He pulled her lower body forward off the chair, slinging her legs over his shoulders and grinding her clit into his face. She gave out a low moan as he sucked her clit, still encased in the fabric, deeply into his mouth. Her hips heaved against him violently. He sucked again, working her with his tongue and rubbing his nose against her mound. She twisted, then exploded in his arms with a gutteral cry
He could feel the orgasm in her legs as they stiffened and clenched his head. He could feel it in the moisture that flooded his mouth, too, so much that it easily saturated the silk and filled his mouth. He continued sucking her, more gently now, as the waves of pleasure washed over her and she slowly relaxed. Then he eased her legs back over his shoulders and lowered her to the chair.
Putting his arms back around her waist, he cuddled against her, enjoying the rushing of her blood and the pounding of her heart beneath his ear. It was a beautiful thing to hold his woman, he thought to himself. A beautiful thing indeed.
After a few moments she leaned forward, kissing him gently on the head.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Without pausing to think, he spoke. “Bethany, I love you,” he said. “I don’t want to fight with you, I only want to be with you and share pleasure with you.”
She grew still.
“I love you, too, Jess,” she said quietly. “I’ve loved you for a long time, I think.”
“Thank you,” he whispered. He took a deep breath, then lifted her up and carried her into the bedroom. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she cuddled into him. He loved it when she held him like that. It made him feel so strong, as if she depended on him for everything.
As if she would never leave him.
He lay her down on the bed, following her down and kissing her long and slow. This time it would be for both of them. He dropped his hand between her legs, and she whimpered. She bucked against him, pushing his lower body back. He pulled his hips away, confused at first. Comprehension dawned as she used the extra space to slither out of her pants. Then she wrapped both legs up and around his waist.
He tore his lips free of hers, and they both gasped for air.
“Jess, let me this time,” she said. He nodded, and together they rolled to the center of the bed. Now Bethany was on top of him, straddling him. He reached up and slid the fabric off her shoulders. Her breasts heaved as she drew her breath in. Her face was soft, then a little smile stole across it. A wicked gleam came into her eyes and without warning her fingers dug into his side, tickling him viciously.
He howled, bucking against her body in protest. She simply laughed, and tickled him harder. They wrestled together, fighting for control, and finally she wound up beneath him again. She grinned up at him unrepentantly.
“Why did you do that?” he demanded. She laughed breathlessly.
“Because you were looking just a little bit too smug for your own good.”
He shook his head, then leaned down to kiss her. Again she started tickling him, and this time managed to buck him off. He fell to one side, completely surprised by her second attack. She jumped up, kneeling on the bed and laughing at his startled look. Caught in the moment, he laughed back, unable to control himself. She was so adorable. Bethany was his woman—naked, completely free of guile.
He started crawling slowly toward her, and she inched backward.
“Think you can catch me?” she asked archly.
“Oh, I know I can catch you,” he replied with a grin. “The only question I have is what I’m going to do with you once I have you. I think you need to be punished.”
Her grin faltered. For a moment her lower lip trembled, then she whispered in a frightened voice, “Jess, please don’t hurt me.”
Stunned, he stopped and stared in dawning horror.
“Bethany, I would never hurt you,” he said softly. She looked deep into his eyes, holding him with her gaze. He didn’t even see the pillow until it hit him in the face, knocking him to one side.
“Gotcha,” she shrieked, breaking into new peals of laughter. He growled and scrambled after her. Now she would really pay.
He caught her from behind, just as she reached the edge of the bed. He pulled her naked body back against his, shuddering as she came into contact with his aroused cock. Time to show her who was in charge, he thought.
Reaching between them, he loosened his pants and shoved them down. Then he thrust into her wet opening and they both moaned.
“Damn, Jess,” she muttered. “You don’t do it half way, do you?”
“Nope,” he replied. “This is what you get for tricking me like that.”
“I guess I’ve been very bad,” she said lightly. She wiggled her butt against him, and he groaned. “You’d better punish me.”
“Witch.”
She gave a bright, tinkling laugh and deliberately squeezed him deep inside.
Gripping her waist tightly, he started moving back and forth, roughly delving deep into her body with each motion.
She was hot and slick for him, pushing back against him in a rocking motion that took his breath away. He tried to reach down between them, to touch her clit, but he couldn’t quite make it. Fortunately she didn’t seem to care or notice; even as he felt a fine sheen of sweat coat his body, he could see the flesh of her back starting to shine. Every part of him seemed centered on the point where they connected. Her flesh enclosed him time and again, squeezing him until he felt like screaming. The need to let loose in her, to allow his seed to shoot out, was almost painful in its intensity. But he wasn’t ready yet; he didn’t want to come until she did. This was for both of them, he reminded himself.
She grunted now, little pants of sound that escaped her mouth every time their bodies slapped together. Their movements grew jerkier, every motion a struggle toward that pinnacle that awaited them. Jess gritted his teeth, holding back the release. Not yet.
Her groans turned into whimpers, then every muscle in her body clenched, including those surrounding his cock. She gave a high-pitched wail, and he lost control. Seed exploded out of him into her body; his fingers clutched her so tightly he knew there would be bruises later. He closed his eyes, threw back his head, and allowed the waves of orgasm to engulf both of them.
Chapter Fourteen
Berengaria Space Port, Three Months Later
Bethany looked at Jess in disgust.
“I can’t believe you’re doing this,” she said. “I have never given you any reason to believe I intend to leave you. For love of the Goddess, I don’t even know how to survive on my own. Can’t you just trust me for once?”
They were sitting in the living area, having reached their sixth destination. It was a small planet, but one where Jess knew Jenner had friends. Or at least business partners. He’d decided from the first that they’d start with known associates and go from there.
Jess turned his head, refusing to look at her.
“I can’t be out there looking for Jenner and worrying about you at the same time,” he said, pulling on a boot with quick and rough motions. “This is a strange port, and a dangerous one. If I know you’re safe, I’ll be safe.”
“I’ll be safe as long as I stay on the ship, right?” she asked tartly. “But you don’t trust me to stay on the ship by myself.”
He didn’t reply. Instead, he stood and pulled
on a jacket made of dark leather he’d purchased it in the last port. His hair was pulled back with another strip of the same leather, tied neatly at his nape. It was quite long now, reaching nearly half way down his back. She watched him thoughtfully, realizing he hadn’t cut it since his escape from the mining camp. Was that on purpose; was it part of a disguise? He slipped a knife—the same one he’d used to cut her hair with that fateful day of the rebellion—into a scabbard in his boot and stood. She shivered and hugged herself. He looked quietly menacing, a different man from the Jess who shared her bed and laughed with her.
“You’ll be fine here while I’m gone,” he said. “There’s plenty of food and we’re hooked into the planetary ‘net. There’s enough credit on deposit with the port for you to order anything you need.”
“Except my freedom.”
“Except that,” he said. “But don’t worry, if something happens to me they’ll come to check on you in three days. I’ve already made the arrangements.”
“Thanks,” she said tightly.
“I suppose a kiss goodbye is out of the question?” he asked.
“Good guess,” she said, turning away from him.
Bethany fumed as he strode out of the ship. Once again, she was locked into their living quarters. Once again he had chosen not to trust her, despite the fact that she had done nothing to betray that trust. She hadn’t even considered leaving him, yet he insisted on locking her in like a wayward child.
She stood and walked over to the data terminal, idly flicking on the port information channel. It looked like a horrible place, she thought. Certainly not the kind of place that would tempt anyone bent on escape. Barengaria had only been settled for two centuries, and the air was not yet breathable. The entire population lived in a series of domes, venturing outside only long enough to tend the machinery which ran a string of chemical plants. Some day, in another two or three hundred years, the entire planet would be suitable for farming. Billions of people would have food to eat because of the work being done in this port. But for now, it was still a hell-hole.
