I chose the mister. After shedding the black temp-shirt, I turned the alien shower on and stepped into a cloud of cool mist which collected in chilly droplets that ran down over my bare skin.
Honestly, it wasn’t very good as showers go. I mean, I was able to get my body clean but I knew right away I wouldn’t be able to wash my hair in there. My curly mop is too dense to wash under anything but excellent water pressure which was pretty much the exact opposite of the mister.
But since I didn’t have any shampoo anyway, I decided not to bother. I twisted my hair into a thick knot at the nape of my neck and just concentrated on getting my skin clean.
After turning off the mister, I looked for something to dry off with. There were no towels that I could see but suddenly a blast of hot air surrounded me, coming from the same fine jets which had previously sprayed the water. It nearly knocked me off my feet but I put out my hands to brace against the wall and managed to stay upright. When the hot air finally subsided, I was dry.
“Whew,” I muttered to myself as I stepped out. “What is it with these people and the hot air on your sensitive areas?”
There was no answer forthcoming but I didn’t expect one. It was just another aspect of alien life I would have to get used to unless I could get back home. All right, so let’s think about that, I told myself. How can I get home?
I pulled Sarden’s t-shirt back on, since I had nothing else to wear, and settled gingerly into the floating silver bed. It dipped and swayed dangerously as I scrambled in but once I was in place, it supported me beautifully. I thought it would probably be like sleeping on a cloud—only I had no intention of sleeping. Not tonight.
It was time to get serious.
Fact 1—I was on a spaceship headed away from Earth and I was getting farther away all the time.
Fact 2—Plan A had failed spectacularly.
Fact 3—I had only one option left, that I could see.
It was time for Plan B.
Reaching into the folds of the silver, floating beanbag bed, I withdrew the heavy length of pipe and the thick manacles. The manacles glowed a soft blue, the light in the center of the chain connecting them winking like a star.
I finally dared to touch it and when I did, the light changed from blue to green and both of the thick cuffs popped open with a soft chime. Hmm… I touched the light again—which was cool but buzzed and vibrated under my fingertip—and they snapped closed and the light turned blue. So that was how they worked. Good thing because I didn’t see any key to go with them.
I hefted the pipe in my hand and stared at it. Could I really go through with this? I’ve never been a violent person. I mean, I have a temper on me and I got in a pretty good fight once in fifth grade when Grace McLaughlin stole the charm bracelet my Granny had given me for my birthday and started telling everyone it was hers. But other than that, I’ve never been much of a fighter.
Well, it was time to change all that. The longer I waited, the further I got from Earth. It was time to turn this ship around and if Sarden wouldn’t do it, I would find a way myself.
Tucking the heavy, cold manacles under my shirt-dress to mask their glow, I held the pipe by my side and slipped out into the hall.
I had half expected to see Al somewhere watching me, but the artificial life form’s round lantern-eye was nowhere to be seen. The lights aboard the ship had been dimmed and the long metal corridor was filled with black shadows.
It was seriously creepy. My mind kept wanting to show me images and scenes from that Event Horizon movie my ex had made me watch—the horror scifi one where the people’s eyeballs explode. I really should have insisted on watching something else that night. You can bet I wouldn’t be having frightening flashbacks of Richard Gere and Julia Roberts having sex on the piano if I’d gotten my way and we had watched Pretty Woman instead.
Taking a deep breath, I pushed the scary images aside and slipped down the hall to stand in front of Sarden’s door.
Some time ago I had heard his door whoosh open and closed, so I knew he was in there. The question was—was he asleep? And was he deeply enough asleep for me to carry out my plan?
Well, only one way to find out.
Leaning forward, I broke the invisible beam and the door opened with a soft, almost silent swish. Inside it was very dark except for a tiny bit of light coming from the bathroom. As my eyes adjusted, I realized it was the purple liquid in the awful personal cleansing tank—it was glowing ever so faintly like a vast aquarium nightlight thing.
The light wasn’t much but it was enough for me to see Sarden’s large form sprawled across a vast silver beanbag bed. Like the one in my room, the bed was floating about three feet above the floor. Just the right height. I gripped the pipe tighter and stepped forward.
Sarden didn’t stir. He was lying on his back with his head turned to one side which was good. I had read in a self-defense book once that the best way to knock out your attacker with one blow was with a single hit to the temple. I planned to avoid his horns though—I wasn’t sure what hitting one of them might do to him and I wanted to knock him out, not kill him.
Sliding closer, I kept my left hand pressed to my belly to keep the manacles from clinking and raised the pipe in my right.
Then I hesitated.
It was really hard to do this—much harder than I’d expected. You spend your whole life from preschool up being told “don’t hit, don’t kick, don’t punch…be careful, don’t hurt anyone and if you do hurt someone, say you’re sorry!”
Well, I could say sorry later, after I had him cuffed and under my control, I decided. Right now, this was my only option.
Taking a deep breath, I swung down, landing the pipe as hard as I could.
Only it landed on the soft, billowy fold of the silver beanbag bed. Because at the last moment, Sarden rolled to one side and popped up on his feet.
I knew I was in trouble from the way his golden eyes glowed in the dark. He looked huge in the dim purple light—a mountain of muscles and it suddenly occurred to me what an extremely stupid idea Plan B was. Here I was, in the dark with a massive, seven foot tall, extremely muscular alien who bore more than a passing resemblance to the Devil and I had just tried to brain him with a metal pipe.
I was so, so screwed.
“What in the Frozen Hells of Anor do you think you’re doing?” he demanded in a low, angry growl. “And what do you have in your hand?”
“I…um…” Like a scared little girl, I tried to hide the pipe behind my back because I tend to get stupid when I’m terrified.
“Give me that.” With one stride he was around the bed and grabbing my wrist. His long fingers squeezed tight and my hand went numb at once.
“Ow!” I cried and dropped the pipe which landed on the floor with a metallic clatter.
“I see,” Sarden said grimly. Still holding my arm, he scooped up the pipe. “So you were planning to kill me in my sleep—is that it?”
“No, honestly,” I gasped. “I wasn’t going to kill you—just knock you unconscious and chain you up.”
“A likely story,” he snarled, shaking me. The sudden motion dislodged the manacles from under my shirt and they landed on my bare foot.
“Ouch!” I yelped in sudden agony. “Son of a bitch that hurts!”
“Force Locks?” Sarden dropped the pipe and kicked it under the bed, then bent to scoop up the manacles instead. He looked at their glowing blue light and then at me. “Where did you get these?”
“I…I found them,” I gasped.
“No doubt when you were snooping around the ship earlier. I knew I was being too soft on you. I should have locked you in your room—that might have kept you from sneaking around in the middle of the night trying to kill me.”
“Well, what did you expect me to do, you big red bastard?” I flared at him. “Just wait like a good little prisoner to be sold or traded? Get it through your head—you do not own me!”
“No
, you get it through your head, Zoe…” He leaned down until we were eye-to-eye, his golden, glowing eyes burning into my own. “I do own you and I’ll do whatever I damn well please with you.”
Scooping me up with one arm, he lifted me and threw me on my back in the middle of the silver beanbag bed.
Then he climbed in beside me.
Chapter Eight
Sarden
I didn’t know whether I should be angry with her or admire her courage. I still couldn’t believe she’d had the nerve to come to my room in the middle of the night and try to brain me with a pipe.
It’s a damn good thing I have a Vornish watchfulness and Eloim reflexes. I’d been awake from the moment she entered my room, but I had wanted to wait and see what she would do. After our almost tender scene at her door, I’d been hoping she might try crawling in bed with me. No such luck though—she just wanted to kill me and take over the ship.
Wouldn’t you do the same thing? whispered a voice in my head that sounded uncomfortably like Sellah’s. Wouldn’t you try to kill or incapacitate your captor if you were being taken away from your home to be sold as a slave?
I tried to ignore it as I got into bed beside the little Pure One and held her down.
“Sarden…Sarden, please!” Her voice was soft and breathy and her body felt lush and ripe under my restraining hand. I wanted to use both hands to hold her but I was still gripping the Force Locks in my other fist. Seeing their blue glow in the dim room gave me a sudden flash of inspiration—let her have a taste of her own medicine.
With two swift moves I had her arms stretched over her head and the Force Locks snapped around her slender wrists. Of course they were much too large for her but the field generated inside the manacles held her in place as securely as the metal outside would have. Then I pushed her hands down until the blue lock-light touched the silver fabric of my hoverbed. At once, they locked into place, as secure as if I’d driven a nail through them to hold them there.
“Hey! Hey, let me go!” Zoe wriggled and squirmed, clearly surprised that she couldn’t wiggle her way out of the locks.
I thought it was a good thing she wasn’t a Vorn and so was unable to activate the Force-Locks. They were keyed to the ship so if she had been able to activate them, she could have released herself by simply applying a firm pressure to the lock-light with her skin. She also could have gotten anywhere in the ship, using the Locks as a key. But of course, not being a Vorn, these things were impossible.
And even if she had been Vornish, she wouldn’t have been able to reach the light—not in the position I had her in now. The position I intended to keep her in until she learned her lesson. And how exactly was I going to teach her that lesson?
I didn’t know yet but her luscious curves, all laid out like a feast before me in the middle of my bed did give me a few ideas…
Zoe
“Help! Let me go!” I demanded, wiggling futilely. But though the heavy manacles looked like they should be much too big for me, they held me firmly and I couldn’t get away. The metal wasn’t even touching my skin—it felt like I was being held by a cushion of air—completely inescapable air.
“You’re not going anywhere until you learn your lesson,” Sarden growled, leaning over me.
I stopped wiggling and looked up at him, feeling my eyes grow wide and my breath grow short. So much trouble. I was in so much trouble now. I could feel the heat of his big body again, hovering just over my own much smaller one.
“What…what are you going to do to me?” I whispered in a voice that trembled a lot more than I liked.
“What do you think I’m going to do?” he snarled softly and then I felt something pinch my nipple.
“Hey!” I nearly jumped out of bed—I would have if the manacles hadn’t been holding me in place. “Hey, stop it, you big red pervert!”
“Stop what? I haven’t even started yet.” Frowning, he pulled away but then I felt something teasing my other nipple.
“Yes, you are!” I exclaimed, twisting to try and get away from him. “You…you’re touching me. Stop it—stop it right now!”
“I tell you, I’m not doing a damn thing,” he growled and held up his hands to prove it.
I stared at him in disbelief. Sure enough, I could see both his hands and neither one was anywhere near my body.
So then who or what was playing with my nipples?
The thought made me wiggle some more just as whatever it was tugged on both of my tender buds, sending sparks of scary pleasure through my whole body.
“What the hell?” I gasped, looking down to try and see what was going on. “If you’re not touching me then who is?”
“I have no fucking idea. I…wait a minute.” Frowning, Sarden leaned over me and looked at something in a fold of the silver beanbag. “I see what it is,” he said, straightening up and looking back down at me. “When you aimed for my head with that pipe, you hit the bed’s pleasure settings.”
“What?” I vaguely remembered him saying something about that—about the bed’s pleasure function when he was saying goodnight to me. But the fact that he’d then acted like a huge jerk had driven it clean out of my head. Now I was being reminded of his words—in the most vivid and visceral way possible.
“You heard me. Your assassination attempt turned on the bed’s erotic functions,” he repeated and was there a slight smile tugging the corner of his sensual mouth? Yes, there absolutely was, the bastard.
“Well turn it off!” I demanded as the silver material of the bed cradled my breasts and teased lightly at the points of my nipples.
“No.” Sarden was openly grinning now, a self satisfied smirk pasted to his handsome, Devil-looking face that made me want to slap him. Only I couldn’t get my hands free to do it. “In fact,” he continued, “I think this is an excellent punishment for your attempt on my life. I think I’ll turn the pleasure settings up a bit.”
“I told you,” I protested as the perverted beanbag tugged at the hem of my shirt, raising it to bare my sex and breasts for him. “I wasn’t going to kill you! I was just going to chain you up and have Al turn the ship around to take me back to Earth.”
“And what makes you think A.L. would obey any order from you?” he growled softly. Putting a fingertip at the hollow of my throat, he began to trace a line of fire down my body, between my breasts and over my trembling stomach and belly.
“Well, because…because he likes me,” I said breathlessly. The silver bed had stepped up its “erotic functions,” cupping my breasts and circling my nipples relentlessly. Between that and the feel of Sarden’s warm finger tracing down my body, I thought I might scream.
“Just because he ‘likes’ you doesn’t mean you can get what you want from him,” Sarden murmured in my ear. “We’re a lot alike in that way.” His breath was hot against the side of my neck and I thought I had never felt so naked and exposed. Suddenly it got worse—something was sliding between my thighs—was it the damned beanbag again or was it Sarden?
“Stop it!” I demanded breathlessly, my chest heaving. “Don’t…don’t touch me there. You said…you told me you’re not a…a rapist.”
“I’m not.” He gave me a dangerous smile. “You have my word that I won’t touch you sexually at all tonight, Zoe. But you’re still going to take your punishment and come for me.”
“I…there’s no way!” I protested.
“There’s every way,” he murmured. “You’re going to lie here and be pleasured while I watch. I want to see your face while your sweet pussy is teased.”
“No,” I protested again but already I could feel the silver bed parting my thighs, baring me to him completely.
Oh God, could he see how wet I was? Because I have to admit it, I was. I didn’t get off on BDSM and 50 Shades kind of stuff—at least I didn’t think I did. So then why was being restrained and touched while Sarden leaned over me and watched me wiggle and moan making me feel hot and cold and crazy all ov
er?
“Oh yes,” he murmured, his long finger still stroking up and down my body, from the hollow of my throat all the way down to the top of my mound. “Yes, my little Pure One, you’re going to come very, very hard. And you’re going to do it while I watch.”
“Please…” I whispered but by now the silver bed was touching me between my thighs. The soft, silky material seemed to have formed a kind of finger and I felt it tracing around my outer lips, teasing the neatly trimmed curls on my mound, getting closer and closer to my center.
“Tell me something, Zoe, does it feel good?” Sarden murmured, looking down at me. “Does it feel good to be held down and pleasured? To be touched until you come?”
“Of…of course not,” I whispered but the words came out with no force at all.
“I don’t believe you,” he murmured. “And now I’m going to kiss you.”
“You…you try to kiss me and I’ll bite you. I swear to God I…I will.” My last words came out as a kind of moan because the silver finger between my legs had finally gotten to the point. It was stroking me gently, caressing around and around my aching little button until I thought I might scream.
“I’ll take my chances.” With that, Sarden lowered his head and took my mouth in a kiss like nothing I’d ever felt before.
It wasn’t just that it he was an alien, or that he was seven feet tall, incredibly muscular and much, much stronger than me—it was the gentle dominance he used when he took me.
He didn’t force himself on me or pry my mouth open. No, he started slowly, kissing my lips and nipping them gently, sucking my lower lip into his mouth to bathe it tenderly with his tongue.
His breath was warm and smelled like some sweet alien spice I couldn’t name but it reminded me a lot of cinnamon and chili peppers. In fact, his kisses stung just a little bit but they felt good too—so good I almost forgot my promise to bite him. But then part of me spoke up.
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