Or maybe that was the pot affecting him? The...what did they call it? Homa?
“Did you say what this comes from?” He waved at the bowl where the homa burned, giving off a pungent smoke. When you wanted more, you leaned in and inhaled.
Ari was down there on her knees on a rug. She swayed, looking more spaced-out than anyone. The smoke did tend to drift low.
“It’s made from the dung of the vican, collected by handlers. Your friends Dayne and Sassik know vicans. They sent many back and forth to me, advising me of your situation. The purple birds?” The man stared then popped some small treat into his mouth – not vican dung, hopefully.
“Uh huh.” He nodded.
Osta caressed the head of his own dark-haired slave. She’d climbed up and reclined on the sofa between his legs. Though not wholly naked as was Ari, her breasts showed through the diaphanous dress. Blue-red shadows circling her neck seemed a warning of dire fetishes.
“You’re coming with us then, Sawyer? I need you. I value you. You’ve seen inside the Royal Swathe and to be able to speak to a mech as you have...” He poked a finger at Sawyer. “That is an ability of great potential. Who knows what you might accomplish? These DRAC missiles I seek are in a dangerous place, but...” He slipped his hand beneath the top of his slave’s dress and smoothed it over her breast. “But I believe we can find them, and if we can do that, we will have a weapon to topple the Mekkers.”
He nodded. The man had drive. He understood that. He was driven also. To find his sister. To get revenge on those who hurt him. Or he had been driven to do that. He studied Ari. Vanquished girl.
“If you want to get at the Mekkers, I’m with you. Give me a place in your warband.”
“Good. Done. I can only take a few with me to find the swathe that was lost in the jungle. You are one of those few. I need her also.” He nodded at Ari.
Naked girl. Spaced-out naked girl with whip marks still showing. Bruises. Scratches on her tits even. Totally vanquished. His collar, his cuffs. The leather mittens. The leash he’d tied to his sofa leg. He could do anything to her and that still thrilled him.
Her wanting him dead, not so much. He needed a way to circumvent her murderous inclinations, and he’d thought on this a while. His logic was fuzzy at this moment.
However, Osta needed her?
“Her mech-repairing capabilities?”
“Of course. These missiles are over a hundred years old.”
If they still existed. If they could function. If they didn’t blow up at the wrong time. What was life without risk?
Zarr was dead and gone. In the stomach of his jagg even. Fitting.
“I’m sure she will come.”
“Is that not automatic if her master comes?”
He didn’t answer immediately. “How far to this jungle where your maps say we will find the swathe that died there?”
“Two weeks’ travel, approximately. The warbug was secreted in a buried base. The maps we found there seem accurate enough. The records were made in the Last Days of the war. My best tech tells me the bug will carry us that far, though we used up the last of the weaponry power. It’s still faster, tougher, than any of our trucks.”
The well-named, Last Days. The vehicle was old enough to be called an antique on Earth.
“As long as a Mekker ship doesn’t zero in on it?”
“Yes. But the Mekker swathes have prearranged paths. We know from their history where each swathe will likely go.”
Around them campfires were burning down to the last of their fuel. The warband had been celebrating all night long. Those who supported Zarr had surrendered, and most now accepted Osta as their leader. Apparently, that was enough of a reason for an endless party slash orgy.
A swathe lost in a jungle. He’d heard of it before. No one had escaped from whatever disaster had befallen it. “And you don’t know why the swathe was destroyed?”
Osta shook his head. “No. No one does. That bothers you?”
“Of course. It would bother any man with a brain. Or woman.”
Like Ari.
They were going to dig up weapons from a place that had killed thousands of the toughest people on this world – killed them and left no survivors.
He puffed out his lips. It was time to do something new with her, before a time came when he couldn’t.
“She has pretty eyes, and body, but I hear she likes to try to kill you,” Osta drawled. “And I know who she is. I have an agreement with her uncle. Perhaps we need to reconsider her employment?”
Read between the lines. There were suggestions in his words. This man was definitely too smart.
Osta beckoned to his woman and she crawled up him. Their kissing only lured Sawyer into looking to his own captive.
Employment. That was one way of looking at it. It meshed with what he intended anyway.
Revenge is a dish best served cold. And he’d had her served cold and hot, sideways, tied up, whipped, and with a garnish of forced orgasms.
“Come.” He crooked his finger at Ari.
She crept forward on her knees then waited with her clasped hands in her lap. So obedient tonight. He’d be surprised if the homa hadn’t taken the edge off her anti-Viagra ability as well as her unruliness.
“Stand.”
She rose, though wobbly. Now her cunt was where he wanted it – at mouth level. That alluring triangle where a woman’s legs met...the swell of her mons, and the petite arrow of her hair that carried a man’s gaze lower to where her slit hinted at its existence.
A little line of promise.
“Open your legs.”
Though she sucked in her lower lip, she moved her legs apart.
He put his palm over her slit, warming her pussy, possessing it, let his middle finger ride up close to her asshole to toy with her there. She swayed some more, her mouth drifting open.
“What would you like me to do, girl?” He popped his forefinger inside her pussy.
“Oh.” A small noise, a small surprise. As if he wouldn’t do this to her when he had her like this. Amusing.
As he fucked her a little, she undulated her body slightly then whispered, “Put your mouth there?”
So forward for her. Definitely the homa affected her. It seemed like cheating to take advantage but her ability wasn’t fair either.
He covered her clit with his mouth and sucked for a while before he let his tongue move in, drawing a moist, languid circle around her clit.
By then she was moaning and had her hands on his head, and a few appreciative Scav men had arrived. Some of those were already fucking their partners – standing up, sitting down. Orgies were a crowd sport here. Osta had his slave by the hair and on her knees before him, but he too was watching.
“Take your hands away.”
“Umm?”
“Out of my hair, girl. Do as I say.” Once she’d done that, he added, “Now ride me. Take out my cock and ride me.”
Her glance swept lower and her eyes fixated on the large lump in his pants. Looking above his head, she seemed to finally become aware they had watchers. “Oh. They’re all...”
“Watching you, yes. They like watching slaves do their master’s bidding.”
The plumpness of her mouth, the redness of her lips...he removed his fingers from her cunt. Her juices shone on his fingers – she was an overripe fruit about to be plucked, and his cock wanted in.
He leaned back to give her access.
Would she? If not, he’d spank her before everyone. Humiliation was his game tonight. He wanted to push her, to see if his assumption was correct: The girl loved being fucked, by him. Anywhere. Preferably when made to against her so-called will.
And if he was right...his catch-and-release experiment was going to be interesting.
She was trembling.
Chapter 28
What Sawyer wanted was wrong. He’d taken her in front of Dayne and Sassik but never before such an audience. Or not so near and visible an audience. Trembling, tho
ughts shredding when she tried to focus, she lost herself in indecision. Vulnerable, naked... Her feet treadled in the rug.
Then Sawyer reached up and placed his fingers on her mouth, stroked her there. A simple gesture but it jarred her from the death spiral of thoughts that were going nowhere.
“Suck.”
Her own wetness was on them. Everyone would know what he offered. It was an intimate action.
If she didn’t perform what would he do?
No might’ve been her response in the past.
Tonight, she yearned for what he offered.
If only they weren’t watching...yet, because they were, she desired this more.
If she didn’t obey, he’d punish her, and even that attracted her.
This was a crux; she’d gone past her own limits and was trespassing into new territory.
Dare.
Her heart gave echoing beats. Her nipples ached with the need for his tongue, his teeth, his hands.
She opened her mouth then leaned forward and took his fingers inside her, inches deep, until they lay along her tongue. An offering of sexuality. She tasted herself, just as he slid his other hand between her legs and tunneled fingers into her.
Bliss.
Heat flooded her from her scrunching toes to her pussy, rising to her breasts.
Adrift, she found his eyes, ever steady, observing how he’d affected her.
It was frightening how much he’d made her give.
He pulled his hand from her mouth, took her breast, and squeezed. She watched it bulge in his grip and keened. Pain, except the echoes were those of pleasure. He crushed her breast, and his fingers were in her, thrusting... Her eyes rolled.
Resistance disintegrated.
This was freedom, not the caging of her desires.
“Remember this. Feel this moment. You have to learn not to repel a man who wants you.”
She nodded desperately, for the pain where he held her breast was escalating.
“Good girl. Now do as I told you to.”
He wanted her on him, to let herself be penetrated before an audience. She had no choice, and therefore it was beyond her control. Beyond her responsibility.
This wicked idea seduced her.
Her past extravagant rejection of all men as monsters had been gutted, had unraveled to this. Days and days of Sawyer hammering at her and her barriers had crumbled. Yes, he was a monster, but she wanted this, and she wanted him. For tonight at least. Tomorrow was another day.
He took his fingers and hands from her body and she kneeled before him, found the opening in his pants, and took out his cock. His erection, the amount in her hands was almost a revelation. He’d rarely let her feel him, but had rather stuffed himself into her mouth or pussy without her consent.
This was what had caused her such pleasure. A weapon in its own right.
With her hand at the base of his cock, she climbed onto him. Her awareness of others dwindled. She crept her knees forward onto the couch; his eyes locked on hers. Her breasts swung as she shuffled.
The dip as his cock head met her entrance, slipped in a fraction, made her stall and shut her eyes, almost choking, looking inward, feeling the slide.
His cock parted flesh, invading. She rocked, lips surely swollen, air cooling her mouth as she inhaled, enraptured by this first wicked movement – the entry of cock into cunt was glorious.
Who cared what else happened, whoever watched. The blasphemy of the forbidden, of fucking this man in public, was nothing.
No choice, and how beautiful that was.
She lowered herself, feeling her walls pushed sensuously aside. The slide of his bluntness slicked inside her as if she were lubricated by honey. Wet, and that in itself was an admission of guilt, of mutual adoration.
Blindly, she searched for something to hold, and her hands found his well-muscled shoulders. “Fuck me,” she whispered, head lowering, eyes shut.
“Ride me more.”
A cruel order. But ohh, she tried, ramming herself deep upon him, going up and down while praying he’d simply take her as she wanted him to.
“Down.” He put hands to her hips and cruelly clawed his fingers into her, forcing her down, forcing himself in.
“Gods.” She coughed, head bowed. His lips sought hers, pressing her open as he shoved himself higher into her cunt. “Ohh.”
As she came, spasming, babbling, he was laughing but she was too far gone to care.
That he then flipped her over and jammed into her from behind, smashing her down into the cave-like, black depths of the cushions that smothered this sofa – that...also she cared not. Being fucked into a mindless oblivion was her sole need.
She may have screamed a little...or a lot.
He cuddled her afterward, on his lap, curled up. Everywhere still hurt and throbbed, pussy, back, everywhere. She breathed him in, his scent, felt the roughness and the softness of his clothes against her skin, and she wondered where to go from after this. His gentle touches bothered her.
In such a dreamlike, between-worlds state, his next words, said above her head, were the worst shock of the night.
“I am going to let you go free.”
What?
Osta interjected. “As long as she comes with us on this exploration of the jungle swathe, yes, you can free her. I will pay her, of course, as a grounder expert. I could do no less. It’s fair, I think?”
“It is,” Sawyer agreed. “Don’t you think so, Ari?”
He’d said her name.
He stroked her hair and her back as if she were his pet, and he’d said her name. He intended to free her.
Lies? Sawyer was probably being a bastard, again.
Stupid for her to disagree.
“Do this or remain my slave. Which, girl?”
“I want to be free,” she whispered.
But she dared not lift her head in case this was an evil joke.
Chapter 29
Sawyer had decided there would be one witness only – JI. The mech had an acute interest in people behavior.
He had her kneel before him, in an out-of-the-way niche beneath the building overhang.
“Should I let you go?”
“You promised. A man doesn’t go back on his word.”
He knew a lot of men who did, but she was correct, he wasn’t a man who did. He just loved torturing her.
“You’re free to go and are no longer my slave. Go to Osta’s man who holds the supplies. He’s inside the warbug. Get yourself clothes and so on.”
When she merely nodded and turned to go he called out. “Stop. Those are mine.”
He pointed at the cuffs and the collar. She blushed but came forward. The locks would prevent her from taking those off herself.
He used his key to undo all the locks then slipped the accessories of a slave from her neck, wrist and ankles, even going to one knee to remove the latter.
The last bit of intimacy, she’d be thinking.
Little did she know he had devious plans. When you couldn’t pull a fish in straight away, you let it run, let it tire itself out, then you reeled it back in, took the hook from its mouth, and you ate it.
She walked backward a few steps then turned and almost ran. No thank you, of course. He smiled as he watched her ass disappear around the corner. The simile went a bit far.
What do you think, JI?
I think I should stay on your side. I know your plans. What if you lose?
I don’t intend to lose. Though if I do, I’ll accept the loss. I love challenges.
I think I might also, Sawyer. I appreciate my life more now that I have to struggle. If these mechs die or are dislodged, I will die instantly.
Sawyer studied the connections showing on JI’s neck. He could see a small section of blue tubing on either side of his neck, where JI plugged his brain into the mechlings.
“I’ll get the armorer to check that out. He might be able to add protection.”
“Thank you, sir.” JI bowed his head.
“I will be most grateful.”
“Not a problem.”
I was also vastly interested in the feeling you experienced as you came inside Ari.
“What! You were in my head then?”
JI shrugged his big shoulders then spoke aloud. “I was nearby...it was impossible not to notice. I wish I could try sex also.”
“Yeah.” Sawyer raised an eyebrow. “You’d like it. If you ever get a chance to grow a cock, jump on it.”
“I could make a joke about jumping on cocks, but...”
“Don’t. Man.” He shook his head. “Come on, let’s find that armorer. So...you were the one who fetched Osta?”
“Yes, Sawyer, I could see you were about to get into trouble.”
“Thank you. How in hell did you stop them shooting you? A mech, appearing out of nowhere?”
“I made a sign on my body.”
“I cannot imagine. What sign?”
“It said...” JI stopped to mimic writing on his chest. “Sassik Helstom has a big dick. Please don’t shoot, I like you.”
Sawyer chuckled. “That would work. You have a thing about cocks...”
“They do seem useful.”
“Hmmm. That they are.” Maybe he should get the mech a strap-on. Ye gods.
Bantering with JI had distracted him from the journey ahead of them. The warbug was big but not so large inside that he wouldn’t be bumping into Miss Ari every single day.
This was going to be an interesting experiment.
He didn’t have a lot of packing to do before climbing aboard the warbug, which gave him plenty of time to observe as he strolled up later that morning. Supplies were being loaded. Less than a hundred people would make up the crew and other personnel...
A body was stretchered past him as he negotiated the stacks of boxes waiting to be loaded. Supplies in. Body out.
“Who?” he asked. Maybe this was someone shot the night before, and they’d just been found? He glanced at the face and upper torso revealed at the edge of the covering cloth. No, it was a woman...
It was...
The one who’d been with Osta, mostly naked. The livid marks on her neck seemed even more pronounced.
Food for thought.
Claimed Possession (The Machinery of Desire Book 2) Page 20
