Tamed: A Prison Planet Romance (The Condemned Series Book 4)

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Tamed: A Prison Planet Romance (The Condemned Series Book 4) Page 17

by Alison Aimes


  “You first.”

  She gave him another look, but this time she didn’t argue. Instead, she limped her way to the stream of liquid and, turning so that her side was to him, she cupped her hands directly in it, splashing herself while the spray from the jet cascaded downward, falling on her like an Old Earth shower he’d seen in history vids.

  Ingenious. There was a lot to be learned from this female about surviving on this planet.

  Such thoughts were soon forgotten.

  The water turned her shirt near transparent, making it cleave to her golden skin, offering him a perfect view of a tight, honeyed nipple and sloping breast bathed in moonlight.

  He’d never envied a drop of water before. He did now.

  Until he noticed how hard she was scrubbing, even after the dirt was gone.

  “You look pretty clean to me.” He kept his voice low and soothing as he approached.

  She didn’t stop. Or look his way.

  “They’re dead. They can’t hurt you anymore.”

  She shrugged and he realized he’d guessed wrong.

  “Was that the first time you’ve killed?”

  Her breathing hitched.

  “I remember my first kill.” He moved around the jet of water until he was facing her head-on. “It haunted me for a long time. But it had to be done. Same with yours. You did what you had to do to survive, and that’s a good thing. You can’t imagine the shitstorm I will reign down on this world if you aren’t in it.”

  She stilled, her expression tightening, and for an instant he thought she might look at him with that same need and vulnerability as when he’d held her in his lap and she’d melted into his touch…but no such luck.

  “I done.” Her expression returned to cool and distant, as if she’d never been vulnerable in his arms, as if he didn’t know her deepest pain and darkest secrets. “Your turn.”

  Being shut out after knowing her soul stung a lot more than expected. It pissed him off a little, too.

  The silence stretched, the rush of water between them the only sound.

  Sometimes it took a fucking battering ram.

  “Wash me.”

  Her head snapped up. “What?”

  “Bound arms. I can’t clean myself.”

  “I—”

  He didn’t wait for her to tell him no. He stepped beneath the falling water. Spray pelted his skin and sent every cell roaring to life. His loincloth cleaved to his hips and thighs, making no secret of his cock rising beneath.

  Her gaze darkened, her fangs peeking out as her mouth opened on a silent O.

  Fuck. The way she watched him, tracking every rivulet that streamed down his chest and disappeared beneath the cloth sitting low on his hips. That same open need, awe, and uncertainty sparkling in her gaze as they had back in the cave.

  It made him hard as hells.

  “Blood won’t come off without some help.” The statement might have been a little stretch of the truth. The force of the jet was strong enough to knock most of the grime and blood away, but he’d never pretended to be anything but ruthless when it came to her.

  She swallowed hard. Her hands fisted by her sides.

  Her hesitation told him everything. Tenderness intermingled with lust and need. “You said no one had touched you skin to skin before me. How about the other way around? Have you touched anyone?”

  She froze, and for an instant he feared she’d run, but she stayed right where she was. Brave as ever. “No.”

  He gave up seeming indifferent, his voice a rumble of desire. “Do you want to put your hands on me, Nayla? Do you want to touch me like I did you? Explore me. Figure out what makes my breath come fast and my cock hard as rock?”

  She jerked in place, her chest rising and falling overtime. “I-I…”

  “You want your chance to be in control.” Following his instincts, he moved so close the spray hit his back and fanned out, misting the whole area and making it look as if tiny jewels were settling in her hair. “Touch me, beautiful. Discover my secrets, just like I did yours.”

  Her breathing hitched.

  “You want to. I can see it in your eyes. The flush across your skin. Your body doesn’t lie to me, even now.”

  She shook her head, denying him. Denying them both.

  “What’s between us isn’t going away.”

  “E-enough.”

  “I know while we’ve been apart you used the time to tell yourself I didn’t mean any of what I said. That I was only pretending to care to trick you to get the information. But that’s not true.”

  Her fingers curled into the hem of her shirt.

  “Your choice this time.” He let the monster inside him out for a heartbeat. “I didn’t take you for someone who would let fear control you.”

  Defiance flared in her gaze. Her hand shot out, sending droplets into his hair and hers.

  The pads of her fingers touched his chest, just above his heart.

  Heat seared through him.

  Her first touch. By her own design.

  Maybe he should have felt guilt at the way he’d baited her, but it was white-hot pleasure that slammed through his spine. Her sweet, soft touch rocketed him to the edge.

  He locked his fingers together and forced himself to breathe through his darkest urges. He couldn’t afford to lose control now. Not when they’d come this far.

  Still, the binds at his wrists cut into his skin as he strained against them, every part of him taut as a bow string. “Fuck, Nayla.”

  Her hand tensed. “I do wrong?”

  “No.” He stepped closer, pushing his chest into her hand so that her palm seared deeper into his skin. “You’re doing it right. So damn right.”

  Her pupils shrank, her ears twitching as her breath came faster and her expression shifted from hesitant to raw lust and fierce determination.

  His cock throbbed harder.

  Stepping closer into the fall of water so that their bodies were only a hair’s breadth apart, her hand stroked across his chest, the hollow of his throat, his jaw. Learning. Exploring.

  He leaned forward, his mouth hovering over the tip of her ear. “Okay?”

  She gave the smallest of nods.

  He traced the quivering whorl with his tongue.

  She shivered. Her eyes sank shut.

  “More,” he growled.

  Her fingernails dragged downward, scoring his skin. With each slow pass, her questing hands ventured farther, tracing the dips of his stomach, the V at his hips, the bumps on his spine, until she reached the low-riding waistband of his covering. She branded every part of him but where he ached the most.

  Goose bumps rose on his arms. He fought to keep his eyes open, knowing if he let himself sink too far into the sensation she’d be under him and he’d be balls deep inside her before his next breath.

  For a fucking novice, she was more devastating to his will than any seasoned expert.

  Her eyes opened as her fingers rose upward once more, gliding across his jaw, over his lips, the bridge of his nose. Excitement shimmered in her gaze as water droplets gathered on her eyelashes.

  “That’s right, baby.” He reveled in every stroke like a claiming. “Touch me everywhere. Know me. Like I know you.”

  Temper flared in her gaze. “You not know me.”

  His sparked in response. “I know you’re clinging to pride and anger because you’re feeling lost and alone. I know you say you want me to change, but you like when I take charge.”

  “Maybe so, but that not all I like.” Without warning, her hand slipped beneath his covering and closed around his dick, her hold firm. Anger glittered in her stare. “Rule number one. No speak.” She stroked his length, her grip a hot fist, even as she quoted back some of the first words he’d ever said to her. “Rule number two. You give me full attention.”

  Hells, he liked her temper.

  His head fell back. His hips pushed into her grip. Her hand was so tiny it barely made it halfway around, but that just made him t
hink of how small and tight she’d be when he buried himself deep inside her.

  “You still with me, Grif?”

  He wasn’t sure if he wanted to turn her over the nearest rock and spank her or fuck the hells out of her, but either way he was all in. “I am.”

  Her thumb massaged the thick vein at the head of his cock. “Rule number three,” she whispered, “you answer questions or there be consequences.”

  He fought to find his voice over the chokehold of pleasure. “I see you were listening. Good girl.”

  She stopped moving her hand. “Good captives get rewards,” she echoed back more of his earlier words. “Bad captives suffer.”

  “Just remember, wild thing,” he warned. “There are always consequences. Even now.”

  A faint tremor, but a quick glance at the arms locked behind his back was enough to reassure her. “I in charge now. I decide consequences.”

  “Enjoy it while you can.”

  Another faint tremble, but then her expression shifted to defiant. She slid her hand along his shaft. His cock bobbed in her hold, his balls tightening—and then she stilled.

  “Fuck.” He bowed his head. Panted through the need. Maybe this hadn’t been such a brilliant idea, after all.

  “Why you want to help me?”

  “Because I can.” Anger and lust made him flippant.

  Her grip tightened, sending all the blood rushing to the tip. “Because you think I weak.”

  “No.” His hips jerked, the urge to just plow forward and start humping her hot little fist almost more than he could take—and from the speculative look in her gaze, she suspected it.

  Hells, she really had been paying attention during their sessions. He willed himself not to move. He could damn well hold his own against a novice.

  “Yes. You think I weak.” She dragged her hand down the length of his shaft and then back up. Slow and uncertain at first, but gaining confidence with each stroke, until his breath was coming faster and his balls tingled despite his best efforts. “You think I like all the others. Need saving from angel-like guardian.”

  “Honestly?” It was more work than it should have been to sound in control. “Right now, with your hand around my dick, I’m feeling as far from angelic as a male can get.”

  The crease between her eyebrows deepened. “You hiding behind joke. I spend so much time on outside with pack, who not let me in, I know. You say touch you and discover your secrets, but you keep them close.”

  Fire flared in her gaze. It matched his own.

  He hadn’t expected her to push him or how her thumb gliding over his thick mushroom crown would make his thigh shake, his control fray.

  But it was the rush of her breath and the flush spreading across her cheeks as she worked him that almost put him over the edge.

  Resentment and defiance aside, she liked jerking him off as much as he liked her doing it.

  His cock thickened. His balls drew tight. He was going to come. Hells, he was about to spill in her hot little bratty palm.

  Her hand stilled. “No. Not until you tell what I want to know.”

  More of his own words.

  “Fuck.” He let out another roar, his gaze slamming into hers, his fury and need as close to the surface as they’d ever been.

  They stared at each other, a silent battle, her chest heaving in time with his, her glittering eyes as wild as the beast she was unleashing in him.

  “I do want to protect you,” he snarled. “I do think that, despite enduring a lot and being very brave, there are parts of you that are still fragile as hells and that makes me crazy to keep you safe. But you’re nothing like the others to me. I’ve crossed so many lines with you already, Nayla. I don’t even remember where I started.”

  “Now, this sound like truth.” Her grip tightened once more. Pre-cum leaked from the tip, a silent acknowledgment of her victory.

  “What happened back in the caves was intense,” his voice was a rough rasp of lust he didn’t even bother to try and hide, “and maybe it shouldn’t have gone down like it did, but I can’t regret it. I brought us together in a way we never would have otherwise.”

  He swallowed hard, his heart beating faster, his admission yet another line he willfully crossed.

  It was worth it though to see the flash of vulnerability that flared in her gaze. He had his pride, yes, but what the hells was it worth if it hurt her?

  “You know me now. You understand me better than anyone has in a long, long time. You have to believe I would never hurt you, Nayla. I’d rather die.”

  Her thumb brushed over the thick head of his cock, smearing the pre-cum and making it even easier for her hand to slid up and down his shaft, but it was the intensity of her gaze that shook him to his core. “I believe you.”

  He thickened even more beneath her hold, the weight on his chest lifting. “Good, I—ˮ

  “But you hurt me all the same.”

  Shit. “I’m sorry. I only want to help you.”

  “Helping me won’t bring sister back.”

  He jerked in her grip. What the fuck?

  “This has nothing do to with that. My sister is dead and gone. Believe me, I know that better than anyone. The chance to save her is long past.” He swallowed hard. Handing over a bit of control was one thing. This…this was a line he didn’t cross. “I don’t even know how we got onto me. It isn’t relevant at all.”

  Her anger flared bright once more. “You like discuss my secrets, but not your own.”

  No damn way. This was about her. “You let me in, Nayla. You sat on my lap and you spread those gorgeous thighs and you begged me with those sweet fucking eyes to give you pleasure and show you the world—and that’s what I am going to do. Just don’t close me out.” Old memories roughened his voice. “I can’t help you if you shut me out.”

  “No.” Her hand stilled and then she released him, backing away even as his dick bobbed toward her, pressing hard against his covering. “I protect myself. Especially from another male who only want me on his terms.”

  She left, taking her softness and need and all the light.

  Shit.

  Standing in the spray alone, the night closing in, made three things crystal clear.

  One, chemistry alone was not going to solve this.

  Two, he was finally getting a sense of what she needed from him, and it scared him shitless.

  Three, he was way past messy emotions into downright falling hard territory and karma was a god damn bitch.

  But he was no coward. He’d do what needed to be done.

  29

  The moons were beginning to wane and Grif’s coverings had long since dried, but not the fever pounding through his blood.

  His only consolation was that Nayla didn’t seem too comfortable, either. She fidgeted in her seat, her lips pressed tight as she jabbed the long thin rock she was using to stoke the fire. As if that alone would puncture her need and burn it to ash.

  Not going to happen.

  The fire crackled.

  Nayla poked at it some more. She was roasting some bulbous fire-red plants with spikes he never would have considered eating. However, the longer they cooked, the more the scent shifted from bitter to sweet.

  Add “good with finding native food sources” to her list of impressive qualities.

  It was damn peaceful. If not for her pain, the missing females, and the mob of pissed-off crewmates he suspected were combing the cliffs for him even now, he could have stayed out here with her like this forever.

  But those were all matters that had to be dealt with. Along with the damn ropes at his wrists.

  Shifting as if he was simply stretching, he rubbed his binds against the jagged rock at his back and felt another strand snap.

  He’d put the time since she walked away from him at the water to good use and come up with a new battle plan. Because that’s exactly what this was: a siege of the highest order. One he did not intend to lose.

  He did expect the upcoming skirmis
h to leave him bruised and bloodied. Sometimes, though, you had to suffer a few cuts to win the war.

  With one last bracing breath, he went for it.

  “You still look troubled, wild thing.” He took in her tense shoulders as she squatted near the fire, her hair was once more a wild tangle of curls around her lovely face. “You don’t have to be in my ropes to talk. You can say what you feel anytime.” He braced himself. “I can do the same if you like. I won’t close down again.”

  “Food almost ready.” She ignored his offer.

  He’d suspected it wouldn’t be so easy. Still, it was nice to hear her voice.

  She’d kept her distance, tending the fire, rubbing paste on her ankle—an innocent act he’d devoured like it was porn. Everything she did made him hard as hells.

  “I’m not hungry.” His denial was undercut by a low belly growl.

  She raised an eyebrow. “No?”

  “That was just my stomach saying hello,” he teased. “You eat it.”

  Her ears twitched, her lips flattening. “We both eat. Travel hard. We need energy.”

  He almost had her. “I want you to have it.”

  Her chin jutted out. “You feed me. Now, I feed you.”

  “Okay.”

  She stilled, no doubt taken aback by his quick reversal.

  But not all his traps were of the pit variety, and the monster in him was on the scent once more.

  If he was another male, he might have backed off. Or found another way to reach her. But he’d been forged to push and fight and win, and so he would.

  Since the moment she looked at him with her big wide eyes and told him she had no name, her fate had been set, and maybe so had his.

  “You coming?” He shifted, lengthening his legs so they were straight out in front of him.

  She sent him a suspicious glare. “What happened before not happen again.”

  “Agreed.” This time, he intended to have her sweet taste in his mouth, his tongue in her hungry pussy, and those purring sounds of hers echoing in his ears. They both needed it bad. Because, sure, chemistry alone might not solve their current problems, but it was going to make them both feel a hells of a lot better.

  Before that, though, there was a trap to bait and set—and some penance due.

 

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