by Joanna Wylde
He did.
Soon he was nipping at her, taking care not to hurt her but growing steadily rougher. The new sensation was exciting. He felt himself getting harder, and suddenly it wasn’t enough to simply pleasure her. He wanted to experience it with her. He pulled his head back and knelt to look at her. Her eyes were glazed, a strange little smile twisting across her face.
“What are you gong to do to me now?” she asked, her voice almost taunting. “You want to play; I can see it in your eyes. I like to play games.”
He watched her steadily for a moment, trying to decide what to do next. She seemed so sure of herself, so different from the deferential lover he was used to having warm his bed. She slithered up the bed on her butt, and slowly leaned forward on her knees so she faced him.
She cocked her head, looking at him strangely.
“How far will you go?’ she asked softly. “Would you rape me? Would you fuck me even if I screamed at you to stop?”
He smiled slowly. “Would you scream at me to stop?” he asked.
“No,” she whispered in reply. “I wouldn’t. There’s nothing you could to do me that I wouldn’t want you to keep doing.”
Something about the way she said it, the intensity in her eyes, frightened him. It was too arousing, almost too much for him to comprehend. Nothing touched him any more, but the thought of chasing her did. He wanted to chase her, catch her, take her in the strangest ways he could imagine.
He felt a slow smile steal across his face. “Turn around,” he said.
“Make me.”
He nodded his head, holding her eyes as he reached out to grab her shoulders. He rotated her slowly, and then pushed her down roughly onto the bed. She wiggled her ass at him, and he slapped it lightly.
“Hold still,” he said softly, allowing a touch of menace to creep into his tone. She shivered, and he reached down between her legs to feel her slit.
She dripped for him.
He fingered her for a moment, trying to decide what to do with her. She writhed, thrusting up at him and offered herself without thought.
“Lay your arms out flat,” he said abruptly. “I want to see them above your head.”
He leaned down over her, allowing his cock to rest against her ass as his chest touched her back. He reached out along her arms, feeling the smooth flesh and sleek muscles of her young, hard body.
His arms were longer, of course, which made it easy enough to grab the tasseled cord that held back the heavy hangings surrounding his bed. Within moments he had her hands tied. He was careful to keep the soft ropes loose enough to allow circulation, but they were tight. He felt her pull against them, and then felt the quiver run through her body as she realized she wasn’t going to get free. Not until he let her.
He raised himself again, rubbing his hands against her back and digging his fingers into the muscles. He was careful to be gentle, working the flesh in a way that made her shudder in a new kind of sensual pleasure. Usually she gave him backrubs, he realized. It had never occurred to him to return the favor. His hands moved lower and lower on her body, grasping the globes of her ass and squeezing them tightly.
She wiggled at him again, and he squeezed tighter. This time his fingers left marks, and she moaned.
“More,” she whispered.
Bemused, he slapped her. Her butt bucked up, and when he reached down to touch her slit again she was sopping. He slapped her harder, this time hard enough to leave a reddish mark.
She writhed harder, her ass bright red from his blows. His cock tightened painfully. It was time take her.
He reached down around her waist and roughly pulled her up into position. She struggled a bit, but her knees came up to support her weight. He positioned himself at the opening between her legs and abruptly thrust in, hitting home with the first motion. His cock was big, and it bumped against her cervix. She gasped and moaned, wiggling around as he impaled her. Normally he was careful to hold himself back, realizing that he was big enough to hurt a woman.
Karia liked it, though.
He slammed into her again, harder this time. He knew it had to hurt her, but she just pushed back at him, as if she wanted him to go into her body even harder. He reached down under her body and grasped one breast firmly, pinching it as he slammed down into her again. Her muscles spasmed around him and she arched back at him.
“More,” she muttered under her breath, her voice rough. “I want more.”
He slammed into her again and again, each time harder than the next. She pushed back at him, and he could feel her body growing tense. She was near her orgasm, and that was a good thing. He wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to hold out. Her vagina was like an exquisite, painfully tight glove encasing him, squeezing him, milking him so hard it hurt. He heard the blood roaring in his ears, felt his heart pounding in a staccato.
She bucked against him once more, and struck with inspiration, he pulled himself up and slapped her ass one more time. Hard. She squealed and came. Her entire body seized, gripping him as if in a vise, and he exploded into her. Again and again his body pumped into her. Finally, spent, he collapsed on top of her. She lay still for a while, and then started testing the ropes holding her hands.
“Are you going to let me up?” she asked in a sooty voice. “Or am I just going to lie here under you forever? I think I could stand that if I had to.”
He reached forward and loosened the ties. Normally he would dismiss her, but there was a sparkle in her eyes that intrigued him. He leaned in closer, as if to kiss her. She struck swiftly, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. Once again, that new awareness came over him. It was as if he could feel again for the first time in ages.
“Do you like that?” she asked, her tone arch. “Because I do. I want to play with you in ways that redheaded girl couldn’t even begin to imagine.”
The image of Giselle in Jerred’s arms leapt into his head one more time. He didn’t want to think about them, about the bond they shared. Angrily, he leaned forward and took Karia’s mouth harshly, grinding her lips under his, pushing her down again on the bed. Her legs wrapped around his hips, pulling him against her body even as she dug her sharp nails into his ass. Pain seared through, sweet and cleansing.
“Do you think you’ll be ready for another round any time soon?” she asked in a whisper when he finally released her mouth.
He ground against her, feeling the beginnings of an erection. “Yes,” he replied softly.
“Good,” she said. “I want you long and hard, and this time I want it in the ass.”
He shuddered, taking her mouth once more. Jerred and Giselle were forgotten.
* * * * *
Giselle leaned against Jerred, enjoying the strong warmth of his body as she tried to think of some way to escape. She knew they were being watched, and almost certainly taped. She needed to find some way to let him know what was going on, but she didn’t want to tip her hand.
He wasn’t helping. All he had talked about since she arrived was how foolish she had been. She should have stayed with Josiah. She should have saved herself. She should have sold him out. Finally she’d told him not to talk to her at all.
Instead, he held her, softly nuzzling at her neck and causing all kinds of new problems. She knew all too well that anything they might indulge while in the cell was bound to amuse their watchers. As she felt his length grow against her leg, she almost decided she didn’t care. She wanted him, and every cell in her body sang out for her to mate with him. But she had a feeling Josiah would enjoy that a little too much, and she’d already provided him with far too much entertainment.
He made her think of those hideous insects that lived on Hector Prime. They wove a silky, sticky web, then hid themselves to one side and waited as other insects caught themselves in it. She had read somewhere that the creatures liked to eat their prey alive. Definitely similar to Josiah, on so many levels.
She felt exhausted. Jerred stroked a finger through her hair slowly, and t
he sensation soothed her until she was dozing. She slipped into a dream, blessedly free from worries for the moment. She and Jerred were sitting in the middle of a field of green grass. A child sat near them, several children, in fact. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew they were Jerred’s nephews. A woman came walking up to them, carrying two tall, cool glasses filled with water. She looked like Jerred—same strong features, same black hair, although hers was streaked with gray, lending her an air of authority and dignity.
She knelt beside them gracefully, and turned to Giselle with a smile.
“I’m proud of you, child,” she said. “You’ve been taking very good care of him. But I think it’s time for the two of you to come home.”
Giselle nodded at her, agreeing. Unfortunately, she couldn’t remember how to get home. She opened her mouth, ready to ask the woman for directions, but one of the children called out. The woman’s face creased with concern, and she turned away. Giselle tried to speak, but nothing came out. The woman stood and started walking away. Giselle wanted to get up after her, but Jerred’s head was heavy in her lap. She looked down at him and saw something dreadful.
He wasn’t sleeping—he was dead. Jerred was dead, and deep in her heart she knew it was her fault. She tried to move, tried to scream, tried to do anything, but she was frozen. The meadow faded around her, and then they were alone in space. She saw ice forming on Jerred’s face. He was freezing, and when she tried to wrap her arms around him to keep him warm, they cracked and shattered.
She came out of the dream abruptly, a stillborn scream stuck in her throat.
Jerred lay beside her sleeping peacefully. She could hear his heartbeat beneath her head. He was fine. They were both alive. The cell door slid open, and Jerred came awake with a start. The guard looked down at them sullenly.
“The Captain is ready to see you,” he muttered. “Stand up and turn around.” he added, nodding at Jerred.
Jerred did as he was told, and Giselle watched as they slid yet another set of cuffs around his wrists. She must not have seemed dangerous to them, because when they led him out into the hall, they allowed her to follow, unrestrained. She felt panicky. Josiah wanted his information and she still didn’t have a plan. She hadn’t even managed to discuss the situation with Jerred. It wasn’t good.
They walked down the hallways slowly to a small room. Josiah sat at a small table. Something about him looked different. She examined his face, and noticed a bruise across his pale cheekbone. There were several scratches, too. Had he been in a fight?
It didn’t matter.
“I see you and your little friend have been reunited,” Josiah said, his tone acid. He spoke to Jerred; her presence hardly seemed to register with him.
“You’re a smart man, you know I have to kill you,” he continued. “But I don’t have to kill your slut. I can let her go. I’ve decided that maybe you care about her enough to try and save her.”
Jerred didn’t answer, and Giselle’s stomach clenched. There was no good response he could make. If he convinced Josiah he didn’t care about her, her usefulness would be over. On the other hand, if he agreed that he cared, the man would use her against him.
“I need the information,” Josiah said. “I want to know where you got the plans for my station. I’ll make this easy on you. You tell me who the traitor was and I’ll let her live. You don’t tell me and she dies. Slowly.”
Jerred seemed frozen; then he spoke.
“I’ll tell you,” he said. “But I want proof that she’ll be safe.”
“I can’t give you proof,” Josiah said lightly, shrugging his shoulders. “You’re just going to have to trust me to take care of her.”
“I want her on a ship and out of here before I agree to anything,” Jerred replied through gritted teeth. “A ship that doesn’t belong to you.”
Josiah shook his head slowly.
“You just don’t understand, old friend,” he said, his voice dropping to little more than a whisper. “You don’t have any of the power here. I have the power, and you’re going to do what I tell you. If you do, I’ll let your friend live. If you don’t, I’ll kill you both.”
Jerred stayed silent for a moment, apparently lost in thought.
“No,” he said slowly. “I’m sorry, Giselle, but if I betrayed my secrets he’d probably kill you anyway, and lot more people would die. People every bit as innocent as you.”
She came over to him and knelt beside him. She didn’t want to betray herself by saying anything; she had no doubt that once Josiah realized she wasn’t secretly on his side, he’d have no further use for her. But she understood. Jerred wasn’t a perfect man, but she had to respect his desire to protect his people. Beside that, the deal Josiah offered wasn’t good enough. She didn’t want to go free without Jerred. It was either both of them or nothing.
“Take him back to his cell,” Josiah said finally. “Leave the woman here. I want to talk to her longer.”
The guards came forward, pulling Jerred to his feet. His eyes met Giselle’s, and she could feel them pleading with her for forgiveness. She tried to show some of the love she felt for him in her expression, but she had no idea if he understood. Then he was gone, and she was alone in the room with Josiah and only one guard.
“Wait outside,” Josiah said to the man. She stayed still until he was gone.
“You don’t have any information for me,” Josiah said slowly. “I reviewed the tapes. I don’t think you’re trying very hard, in all honesty.”
“I haven’t had a chance,” she said, a trace of desperation in her tone. “You need to give me more time.”
“Giselle, don’t play games with me,” he said, sounding weary. “I can tell you aren’t going to do anything for me. In fact, I no longer need your help. I already know who the traitor is and I’m taking care of the situation.”
She froze.
“In fact, I’m not quite sure what to do with you. I hate to kill someone as young a pretty as you are, but you aren’t giving me many options, now are you?”
Her mind blanked, and she realized her time was up. He walked around the table and started slowly pacing the room. He used the silence to intimidate her, but instead it made her angry. Prick. Without pausing to think things through, she leapt at him while his back was turned. She landed on his back, wrapping both arms around his neck and holding on for dear life. If she could just hold on long enough he’d run out of air.
For endless seconds they thrashed together, fury making her strong. He might be bigger and stronger, but his strength flagged as she cut off his oxygen supply. He slammed her up against the wall several times. Fortunately, the room was built for interrogation and was fully soundproofed. After an eternity, he began to slow down and slumped to the floor. Then he fell unconscious.
She released him, knowing she only had seconds to take action. Behind the table were some storage lockers. She ran toward them, flinging one open and searching through it ruthlessly. She found a pair of the same cuffs they’d used to hold Jerred.
She ran back to him, slapping them on his wrists behind his back.
Smiling, she pulled the blaster from his belt. What a pompous ass. He’d been so sure of her that he hadn’t had her restrained, and he hadn’t even bothered to put his weapon out of reach. Served him right, she though smugly.
She fumbled with the blaster, pressing one of his fingers to the lock so the safety would come off. The display flickered to life, and she noted with satisfaction that it held a full charge. She trained the weapon on his chest, and sat back to wait.
He woke up before long, eyes flickering open to find himself a prisoner.
“Bitch,” he managed to whisper. His voice was rough, and she knew he’d have a sore throat if they managed to survive the next cycle. The thought gave her a savage pleasure; he should have to suffer some of the pain he’d caused them.
“We’re going to go and fetch Jerred now,” she said softly. “I hope that your people like you enough to try
and keep you alive.”
His gaze was cold; he didn’t bother to respond.
“Up,” she said. She watched coldly as he struggled to his feet. “Not as graceful now, are you?”
She came up behind him and placed the blaster’s barrel in the center of his back.
“One move and I’ll kill you,” she muttered.
“If you kill me, you’re killing yourself,” he replied softly. “They’ll take you out in an instant.”
“If you’re dead, I’ll die happy,” she muttered, surprised by her own bloodthirstiness. Wisely, he stayed silent. She marched him over to the door, and then popped the hatch. It slid open. The guard outside froze, his hand going to his weapon automatically.
“I want you to take out your blaster and drop it on the floor,” she said. He looked to Josiah, who nodded.
“Do as she says,” he ordered tightly.
The man did.
“Now, step away from it,” she said. “I want you to go down the hallway in front of us. We’re going to get Jerred out of his cell. If anyone tries to stop us, I’ll kill your boss.”
The guard nodded once more. He turned and moved down the hallway with slow, steady steps, hands held up. This man, at least, wasn’t interested in becoming a martyr. That was good. They turned a corner and found another guard standing outside Jerred’s cell. He, too, was ordered to drop his gun.
“Open the door,” she muttered, feeling a trickle of sweat beading up on her forehead. It itched, and for a moment she found herself reaching up to wipe it off. Josiah tensed, as if to make a move, and she caught herself.
The door slid open.
“Jerred, I need you out here right now,” she said in a firm voice. He appeared in the door. He must have been surprised, but he didn’t show it. Instead he took in the situation with one quick glance. He reached down, grabbing the blaster off the floor.
“Hold out your hand,” he muttered to the guard. The man did as he was told, and Jerred held the second blaster up to it, deactivating the safety. With a composure that frightened her, he took charge of the situation.
