by Jocelyn Han
Bruce shot her a roguish grin. “Want me to last longer?”
Lana bit her lip. “You’re hurting me,” she whispered.
“Don’t like it rough, do you?” His movements slowed.
“I don’t think you do either,” she defied him. “You’re just angry. You want to dominate me.”
His slate-gray eyes ran dark. “Oh, yes. Very much.”
“Why?” she whispered. “So you won’t have to feel vulnerable yourself?”
For a moment, he stopped moving. “Shut up,” he breathed.
“Is that why you always run out of here after fucking me?”
“Shut up,” he groaned, more insistently.
“Why are you trying so hard not to like me?” She didn’t know why all her questions were pouring out now, but she couldn’t keep them in anymore.
This time, her words made him stop completely. Bruce stared down at her, his jaw working and his eyebrows knitting together in a frown.
“Talk to me.” Lana’s hand trembled as she reached out, hesitantly touching his face.
The silence seemed to stretch on forever. Bruce looked lost in thought, struggling with whatever was going on in his mind. “Because I can’t trust you,” he finally mumbled.
Lana stared at him wordlessly.
“What happened this afternoon makes it clear who you are. I thought you could take the truth – I thought that maybe we could...”
“Work together?” she finished when he didn’t go on.
With a sigh, Bruce rolled off her, all the heat and rage gone from his loins. Lana held her breath, half-expecting him to get up and leave, or grab her again to finish what he started, or hit her and tell her to shut up. He did none of those things. Instead, he lay staring up at the ceiling, his breath slowing down, his hands pulling up his flannel pants to cover up.
“Yes,” he finally admitted.
“Like you wanted my mom to work with you?”
“I killed your mother, remember?” he said bitterly.
Lana cringed. “No, you didn’t. I shouldn’t have said that.”
Bruce looked aside, gauging her intentions with his eyes.
“I’m sorry I broke your trust,” she softly added. And she really meant it.
His hand slipped around hers. “I shouldn’t have broken yours, either.”
Lana stopped breathing. She couldn’t believe her ears. Was this terrifying, powerful, dangerous man apologizing to her?
“Maybe you should tell me what happened,” she ventured. “Why you are the way you are. If you trust me now, that is.”
Bruce cleared his throat, his gaze going back to the ceiling. “It’s not pretty.”
“I don’t expect it to be.”
Lana listened to Bruce breathing in the semi-darkness, his respiration slowly settling into a more relaxed pace. Maybe he was hesitant to tell her – or perhaps he just didn’t know where to begin. Gingerly, she rubbed the back of his hand with her thumb, because they were still holding hands.
“When I was twenty-two, my father sent me on a business trip,” he finally started. “He wanted me to strengthen the ties he had with the Russian Realm and represent the Randall family. Xander was unavailable, so he thought he’d send me in.”
“Xander?” Lana echoed.
“My brother. And best friend.”
Suddenly, Lana remembered the pictures on the memory card. The older guy looking just like Bruce – that had to be him.
“I wasn’t really interested in economics or trade, but I was thrilled my father had picked me to go to Ganymede. Xander was his favorite, because my brother had the same kind of interests. I was the awkward guy in the family who was interested in literature and poetry. I hadn’t been of much use to the Randalls up till that point.”
“So you went to Novi Moscow.”
“Yes. And while I was there lobbying for my dad, I was invited by president Kasparov himself to visit the Promethean mines.” His mouth pulled up in a bitter smile. “I can still remember how privileged I felt to be a visitor there. Little did I know what I’d find.”
“Those children,” Lana whispered.
“Yes. Those children. Well, not the same ones, of course.” Bruce closed his eyes and rubbed his face for a few seconds as if to chase away the memories. “An assistant of Ivanov Mining Companies explained to us that the kids had grown up on Amalthea, a lower-gravity colony, so they were small and skinny enough to crawl down the fissures in the Promethean rocks and manually extract the stones. They’d tried nanobots, but the technology wasn’t advanced enough, and incredibly expensive. Using heavier explosives to open up the soil tended to ruin the gemstones for trade purposes. So they used child labor, this man proudly told us.”
“My God,” Lana gasped.
Bruce opened his eyes and turned his head to look at her. “I went back home and told my dad what was happening on that moon.” He paused for a few seconds. “Turned out he’d actually known for a few years.”
“He – he wasn’t shocked?”
“Not that I could tell. My old man ribbed me for being such a sensitive soul and went on to ask me if I’d talked to any Russian representatives from the Duma on behalf of the Randalls.”
“That’s horrible.” She rolled on her side to caress Bruce’s chest with her hand, wanting to somehow comfort him.
“Oh, I’m not done yet.” He laughed coldly. “When I went to Xander, he was upset. But not upset enough to really do something about it. He had such a mind for business, my brother. After the initial shock had worn off, he patiently tried to explain to me why the Promethean gemstone export shouldn’t be disrupted. Why we should leave it alone. How our monetary system would go haywire. How everything would spiral down into chaos. And that’s when I realized I didn’t really know my best friend that well.” His voice trembled a little bit, but he still kept talking. “And so, I gave up on convincing my family and went straight to the British authorities in New London. The child slaves were from Amalthea, after all, and that moon belongs to the Brits. I couldn’t imagine they’d take abduction of their laborers by greedy Russians lightly.”
“What did they do?”
Bruce chuckled humorlessly. “Turned out they knew, too. It was a part of their Amalthean population control system. Keep numbers stable and sell off a few hundred kids every two years – the smallest and weakest, of course. They were never gonna grow up into good, strong laborers anyway. And tell the parents you can’t keep those Russian marauders out because they’re so goddamn sneaky.”
“Every two years?” Lana whispered.
Bruce slowly nodded. “Yes, because kids grow up. And when they get too big to go down into the mines, they’re worthless. So you need replacements.”
“How – but what happens to the...” Her voice trailed off.
“Don’t ask.”
Sick with revulsion, she sat up and pressed her hand to her mouth, afraid she was going to puke. Lana exhaled slowly as Bruce rested his hand on her back.
“After that failed expedition, I came home to discover my family had disowned me. The fact that I’d lost my rag at the British Ambassador on Mars might have had something to do with it. So I packed my stuff, took out my savings before they had the chance to close my bank accounts too, and got the hell out of there. Chester came with me, and he’s been a part of my team ever since.”
“You’re not a criminal at all,” Lana whispered. “You were trying to save those children. You still are.”
“Oh, I’m a criminal all right,” Bruce said softly. “After I left the Randall Residence, I looked up as many Elite big wigs as I could – since I knew where they lived, it wasn’t hard to find the men and women who worked together with my father, and with yours. The more I talked to them, the more I discovered about our society, and how dark it gets if you dig deep enough. If I didn’t like their attitude, I killed them. Sometimes I made them watch as I killed their loved ones first. Afterwards, I stole everything they owned and used the money to event
ually get myself a fleet of unregistered ships. In the first few years of my killing spree, I still thought I could one day take Prometheus by force. But that turned out to be quite impossible. So I took out smaller Elite bulwarks of abuse and cruelty. I helped the Croatians to sabotage the feudal system that the Great Germans imposed on them – that’s how I know your friend Alen Novak. And while I was at it, I used my money and influence to feel better about myself and the world. I don’t exactly remember when I became addicted to Neutrazol, but those pills sure helped to keep the nightmares at bay. You can only kill so many people before they come back to haunt your dreams, you know. I’ve been clean for two years, but I still feel the temptation to use it every now and then.”
When Bruce looked up at her to meet her eyes, Lana couldn’t hide the alarm on her face.
“I told you,” he sighed. “I’m not a very nice guy.”
“No, you’re not,” she admitted. “But you’re real. And you had your reasons for becoming the way you are.”
“Don’t start liking me,” Bruce warned her with a weary frown on his face. “I’m violent and I’ll hurt you if I need to.”
Lana smiled wanly. “I think it’s a little late for that warning.”
He didn’t say anything. Instead, he just took her hand and sat up to face her. “You silly girl,” he said at last, frustration and gladness warring for precedence in his expression.
“A silly girl with a new world view.” Lana let out a sharp breath. “I don’t even know if I should thank you.”
“Probably not.” Bruce looked at his fingers entwined with hers. “But in the end you’ll be better for it.”
She scooted closer. “Hold me,” she said softly.
He pulled her in his arms. “You really think I have the power to comfort you?”
Lana rested her head on his shoulder. “Maybe. Or maybe it’ll comfort you to hold me, instead.”
Her shoulders felt tense, but as Bruce rubbed her back, she gradually relaxed, cradled in the arms of a man who had threatened to rape her not ten minutes ago. It wasn’t pretty, but it was what it was.
“I was angry with you,” Bruce said at that exact moment. “I couldn’t stand the fact that you were shutting me out, so I tried to force my way in.”
It was as if he’d read her mind. “Did you want to hurt me?” she mumbled.
He hesitated for a second. “Yes. Your words cut deep.”
“Well.” Lana looked up at him. “You can’t fix yourself by breaking someone else.”
Her remark evoked a slight smile on his face. “True.” He ran his hand through her platinum-blonde hair, touching her cheek with his thumb. “I think it’s too late to fix me, anyway.”
“If that’s true, maybe we should focus on fixing the world outside,” she replied quietly. “Let’s do that. Let’s work together, like you suggested.”
“You want to do something?”
“Of course. Although I do understand what your brother was talking about back then, about the system crumbling and such. But that still doesn’t make it right.”
“What will you tell your father?”
Lana bit back tears. “I’ll make him listen. Look, I know you hate him, but he can be kind, too. He’s the best dad ever. I can’t wrap my head around the fact that he’s running his company like that.”
“I’m – sorry,” Bruce said gently, pausing on the word he probably didn’t use a lot. “I should give you more time to accept the idea that your father is as much of a villain as I am.”
She smiled feebly. “Thanks, I guess. For being patient with me.”
“Well. You deserve it.” He shrugged, obviously trying to make it sound more casual than it really was.
“Why?” she wanted to know shyly.
“I already told you.” Bruce lowered himself back onto the bed, hugging Lana to his chest. “Because you’re brave. Stubborn, much too cheeky for your own good, but genuine. Very different from Elite girls I used to know.” He captured her wrists in his hands and rolled her over, the weight of his body pressing her into the mattress as he leaned in to kiss her. “I’m happy I chased you to the sun and caught you,” he mumbled against her lips.
“Me too,” Lana sighed. As Bruce kissed her, she felt fresh tears pooling in her eyes. He had turned her world upside down, burnt her up and scorched off her wings, but in a way it felt as though she was alive for the first time in five years. Bruce deserved her trust, too. In a way, she would always be a little scared of him, but she sensed that deep down, he was a kind soul.
Bruce slipped his hands around her ribcage, brushing her boobs through the lace of her bra with his thumbs. His kiss deepened and made her ache for much more than just being felt up. Longingly, Lana arched her hips and spread her legs to wrap her thighs around his waist. He grunted, his lips drifting to the tender skin of her neck, his tongue softly licking the spot where he’d bitten her last night. “You want more of me?”
Only if he stayed afterwards, but she couldn’t utter those words. “I do,” she just confessed.
With a slight grin, he pulled down the zipper on her skirt. “I’ll make it good,” he breathed. His hot fingers trailed down her bare butt as he took off the item of clothing before he reached up to get rid of her top and bra, too. “You’re dressed so Elite today,” he commented on the fancy skirt and blouse she’d just been stripped of.
“I was out of casual clothes.”
“Hmm.” He dumped the navy-blue skirt on the floor. “That skirt is way too short to wear to official conventions, Miss Ivanova.”
“It’s the latest fashion in Novi Moscow,” she protested.
Bruce chuckled. “I bet some guy designed it.” He kissed her belly button, resting his hands on her hips as he slowly went down, his mouth making a warm trail down her abdomen toward her shaven mound. Lana’s breath hitched when his lips halted on the hood above her clit. He gently sucked the spot just shy of the sensitive bud, sending shivers through her entire body. And then she felt the swipe of his tongue across the swollen center of her desire, opening her up like a flower to the sun. She was so wet and hot with need that she couldn’t help bucking under his delicious touch, throwing her head back on the pillow. “Bozhe moi,” she exhaled.
“Still calling upon the Almighty, are you?” Bruce murmured before licking her opening from bottom to top. “Sweet pizda, little minx.”
Lana flushed crimson. Somehow, hearing Bruce say ‘pussy’ in Russian made her even hotter. “Thanks,” she moaned, abandoning herself to his touch. He was so good at this compared to the guys she’d been with. With a sweet quiver of lust, she remembered how he had made her come the first time. Secretly, she was hoping he’d do it to her again. She’d rather die than beg him to put his finger in her asshole, though.
Scintillating minutes passed by as Bruce languidly fingered and licked her slit. By some means beyond her understanding, he knew better what turned her on than she did herself. And he also knew exactly when to stop and take a break in order to postpone her orgasm. Lana’s hands gripped the sheets in desperation when he pulled away again, leaving her on the edge of a blissful climax. “Please don’t stop,” she whimpered.
Bruce shook his head. “I want to feel you come around me.” He propped himself up on his arms, wiping his mouth with one hand. “Lie on your stomach.”
For just a moment, her throat went dry. “What are you – why?”
He shot her a crooked smile as he pulled down his pants. “Don’t worry. I know which hole you want me to use.”
Lana exhaled nervously. “Okay. Your finger felt, uhm, good there, actually. But that’s a lot smaller.”
A mischievous light danced in his eyes when he leaned forward to kiss her. “Next time you should ask me for stuff you’d like me to do to you, Lana. Don’t be shy.” She blushed an even deeper red. “Now turn around.”
She complied, gasping as he kneeled between her legs and ran his hand over her swollen labia. “You’re so ready for me,” Bruce whispered
, steering his hard shaft toward her dripping entrance. “So hot.” With a groan, he entered her with a swift thrust, his cock hitting her G-spot even better now. Lana closed her eyes and bit her lip in sheer delight. The sensation of him penetrating her sent goose bumps all over her body. Supporting her weight on her elbows, she lifted her upper body slightly off the mattress. “Can you – touch my breasts?” she asked.
Bruce lowered his lips to her neck, his mouth gently brushing her earlobe. “Sure,” he said huskily. He cupped one of her tits in his large hand, squeezing her nipple between his thumb and forefinger before running his palm over the hardened bud. Meanwhile, he slid in and out of her tantalizingly slowly. Lana moaned softly when he rubbed her other nipple before pinching it so hard it almost hurt, but not quite. She wouldn’t be surprised if her body was covered in bruises by the time they were done tonight. Her butt, her neck, and the delicate skin of her boobs – he’d marked her everywhere. For all intents and purposes, she was his – and she couldn’t deny liking it. If Bruce really meant to keep her here for a long time to come, he was now in ‘deep trouble’, as he’d put it. She could no longer really be his prisoner. Not after everything that had happened in this room. Not after his confession to her.
“Oh yes,” she murmured when Bruce moved his hand back to her hips, pulling her left leg sideways and wedging his fingers between her abdomen and the bed to reach down and touch her clit again. As he started to increase the pace, pounding her more like he’d done before in his anger, Lana could feel a tingling, warm, tight ball of heat in her stomach as it fizzed and whirled in eagerness to make her come. She raised her hips off the bed to meet his strokes, licking her lips as his index finger expertly circled her burning clitoris. “Finish me,” she groaned. “Please.”
“With pleasure,” Bruce rumbled.
He pushed inside even deeper, finally sending her body soaring. Little stars exploded behind her eyelids as her muscles convulsed, seizing with an orgasm rolling over her in waves and eddying around his hard cock. “Bruce,” she softly muttered his name when she finally came down from cloud nine, slumping down onto the pillow. “Could you feel me?”
