The Hand of Vengeance

by Renee Rose

  Amazingly, she obeyed. He wondered how he’d missed the exact point at which he’d won her submission. Or maybe he hadn’t. Maybe she simply wanted him as much as he wanted her. He tested it. Drawing back his hand, he landed a sharp smack on her left cheek, watching as it flattened and sprang back under his hand.

  “Ow!” She sounded indignant and frowned over her shoulder, but he noticed she stayed in position. “What was that for?”

  “My pleasure.” He smacked the other cheek.

  She gasped.

  When he slid his fingers between her legs, he found her folds slick and swollen. “And yours.”

  She made an indistinct sound. He thought it might be of confusion. She still hadn’t reconciled her own attraction to domination and pain.

  “Spread your legs.”

  She widened her stance. He brought his hand up, between her legs, spanking her pussy.

  “Oh,” she squealed. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m spanking your beautiful little pussy. Do you know why, Doctor?”

  She shook her head.

  He slapped her again. “Answer me with words.”

  “No, sir.” Her voice sounded choked like the words had raced each other out her mouth.

  Damn, there was that sir thing again. It seemed less strange to him this time. He hadn’t wanted or deserved her respect before; he’d only required her compliance so he could keep her safe. Now, he reveled in her deference, as if he’d earned it.

  He leaned forward and put his lips near her ear. “Because you love it.” He rubbed two fingers over her slick entrance again. “Don’t you?”

  She whimpered.

  He spanked her little pussy again then slid his fingers into her moist heat and pumped twice. “Don’t you?” He withdrew his fingers completely.

  “Yes.”

  “Tell me what you want.”

  “You. I want you.”

  “How?”

  “However you want to give it to me.”

  His knees nearly buckled. Dear UG, he really had won her submission. The growl in his throat was all animal. All his plans for a long, drawn-out seduction fled as his blood traveled south of his brain. To buy himself time to pull back, he applied himself to spanking her ass properly, clapping his large hand down on the lower half of her cheeks and the backs of her thighs. The water increased the sting to his palm, and, judging by her cries, she felt it, too.

  He’d never thought of himself as much of a sadist, but the plaintive quality to her mewls only made him harder. Maybe this wasn’t helping him regain his senses.

  “Turn back around.”

  She rotated, and he pushed her ass back against the tile. Dropping to the knee of his good leg, he picked up her leg and bent it all the way up, until her foot rested on his shoulder, which pushed her knee to her chest and splayed her beautiful cunt wide. He licked around her anus.

  Her fingers wound into his hair, and she tore at it, grunting and gasping.

  He dragged his tongue across her perineum and plunged it into her slick channel, penetrating her.

  She moaned.

  He moved higher and sucked her clit.

  She squealed and stood on her tiptoes, pulling his face against her even closer, rocking her hips the moment he released the suction. He breathed in her feminine scent, which came at him like a heady perfume. He sucked her labia, shoved a thumb in her pussy, and reached back for her anus with his middle finger.

  She would have fallen if he wasn’t holding her up. Her standing leg had gone completely weak, and she sagged against the wall, her eyes glazed, cheeks painted with bright spots of color.

  “I want you,” she whispered.

  He smiled, feeling more than a little smug. “You have me.”

  “Please.”

  He knew what she wanted, but he wanted her to say it. “Tell me, angel.”

  “I want you—your cock. I want it inside me.”

  He might have lost consciousness for a millisecond there. Blood roared in his ears and his rock-hard cock stuck straight out. He surged to his feet. “Give me that sweet little ass of yours.”

  Her eyes widened in fright, and he gave her a feral grin. “I meant I wanted you from behind, but if you want me to take your ass again…”

  “Ah...no thank you...sir.” She turned around and braced her hands on the wall in the position he’d had her earlier.

  “You did say any way I wanted.” He was testing her. Teasing, really. He hadn’t planned on taking her ass again, but now he wondered how far she was willing to go. She let him do it last time, but she’d been practically drunk on orgasms then.

  “Yes, sir.”

  His cock pulsed painfully. “Yes, sir? Any way I want?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He lost it then. Truly lost all control. Thankfully, he had the wherewithal to wrap one arm around her waist to brace her, because he was the definition of coming in hot at that moment. The second his cock hit her cunt, he pounded away, hard and fast.

  The slapping sound of their wet flesh striking again and again echoed against the tile walls, filling his ears the way her scent filled his nostrils. She came almost immediately, her muscles gripping and squeezing his cock, which sent him plunging over a second ledge. He braced his free hand beside hers on the wall, afraid he’d pump into her so hard he’d crack her head on the tile. When she moved her hand on top and laced her fingers through his, he knew he was lost.

  Somehow, in the course of a mere eight days, this little doctor had caught him by the balls. She had him body, heart and soul. Wrapped so tightly around her finger, he couldn’t imagine ever being free. And that knowledge came like a lance of pain through his heart.

  “Lara.” He came, his semen hot and furious as it charged down his cock, filling her depths as his orgasm went on and on and on.

  He pushed her upright against the wall and sucked at her shoulder, traveling along her neck to bite her ear.

  “Lara,” he repeated. It felt like a loss, not a gain. He hadn’t wanted to love again. Love meant losing, the way he’d lost his parents and then his sister. Love meant living in fear of losing again, and Lara Simmons was way too precious for him to ever want to risk losing.

  He brushed her wet hair to one side and kissed her bare shoulder. “My sweet little doctor. You don’t belong here on Jesel. You should go back to Earth, where you’ll be safe.”

  ~~*~~

  Lara’s shoulders stiffened. What the hell did that mean? She’d never been so consumed by someone and so rejected at once. How could Blade murmur words that sounded like endearments but actually mean he wanted her gone, out of his life?

  He must have noticed her change in mood because he released her and stepped back. She turned to find him holding out a towel, his dark eyes hooded, gaze indecipherable. She pulled the towel from his hands, even though he looked like he wanted her to step into it.

  “I’m scheduled to go back in a week.” She lifted her chin as if she’d said something defiant. She’d been ignoring the timetable because her return date had seemed all too soon. For one thing, she still had an endless stream of patients who needed her help. For another...there was Blade. But, obviously, he hadn’t been feeling the same way.

  His face still showed nothing.

  Well, they weren’t relationship-building here. She shouldn’t have imagined they were. It was sex, pure and simple. They both wanted it, and they’d both had it. End of story. Period. The sooner she got her mind wrapped around that, the better.

  Just because she was lonely didn’t mean she needed to...well, she needed to shut off the part of her that was running off making plans for a future involving Blade Vengeance. Or whatever his real name was.

  And, dammit, she’d never been lonely before. How had he ruined that for her as well?

  She rubbed the water off her skin and handed the towel back to Blade, since there was only one in the shower room. He took it but tossed it onto the hook.

  Figures. Outdoorsy men like him
probably never used towels.

  They were different. As different as night and day. That was another reason to dissolve any fantasies she had about a long-term relationship with this man. Besides, she didn’t want to stay on Jesel forever. She had a career on Earth. And her very proud parents. And other planets to visit with the Samaritans. And...fuck. Nothing. Jesus fuck. She had nothing. How had Blade reduced her to nothing?

  Tears smarted her eyes as she bent to pick up her clothes. She hunched over to put them on, her back to the giant warrior behind her. When she turned, he had dressed but still gazed at her speculatively.

  Her lips pressed into a thin line.

  She didn’t know what she wanted from him in that moment. Certainly not an attempt at a hug or a kiss. Or even a thank you. But when he turned and opened the door without a word, she knew for certain that hadn’t been it either.

  Maybe she’d wanted an explanation. Or an apology. For him to ask why she seemed upset, because she knew he’d noticed. He might be a man, but he wasn’t oblivious. No, her rebel—damn, not her rebel, just Blade—Blade read her very well. He might not say much, but he always seemed to know.

  And didn’t that make it hurt all the worse?

  Chapter Eight

  Blade had a bad feeling all day. An underlying itchiness worked him over, leaving him on edge. He’d checked and rechecked the borders, cloaking bubble and security measures, but nothing seemed amiss. None of that was his responsibility, anyway. He’d refused all leadership roles offered to him. Bailey had found others to serve as commanding officers, sergeants, and generals. He was more of a lone wolf. Special assignments kind of guy. High ranking, but no rank. As he’d told Lara when she’d first called him sir. He was nobody. He slid in and out of the rebels’ operations, inserting himself where he could be useful, pulling out when things got interpersonal. He guessed it was fair to say he didn’t do people.

  An alarm sounded, broadcast through amplifiers to the entire settlement. Blade flicked on his comms unit. “What’s going on?”

  “I have multiple incoming, I repeat, multiple unidentified incoming. Shields are activated, but the incoming ships are not slowing.”

  Bailey’s voice came through, barking orders to his captains.

  The air crackled, and every hair on his body stood on end. A blinding light flashed overhead as their shields shorted out under heavy fire.

  Blade pivoted on his cast and ran toward the main building, Dog at his heels. He found Lara with Dasha and Alyx at the windows, peering out.

  “You three,” he barked. “Follow me.” He led them at a jog down the corridor toward the command room. The hatch in the floor outside it had already been opened, and President Black was being hustled through. “Get down there. Do not come out until I come for you. Understand?”

  Lara looked frightened, which was probably good. This was no time for her to be brave.

  “Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir.” It was Alyx who answered him.

  “Thank you, son.”

  Lara still didn’t speak. Her eyes were round and her face pale. He wanted to kiss her, but the moment was wrong. She’d been cold to him since the day he’d suggested her departure. He’d hurt her. He hadn’t meant to, but he couldn’t take it back because he did need her to leave. This attack only proved that. He should have made her leave sooner, as soon as she’d finished the president’s surgery. Now, her life was in danger.

  He grasped her shoulders. “I will come back for you. Wait here for me.”

  She nodded.

  He handed both a laser gun and a dagger to Alyx. “Protect them.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Dog.” He snapped his fingers and pointed at Lara. “Stay. Protect her.”

  Dog trotted to Lara’s side and sat down, wagging his tail as he looked back at Blade. Damn smart animal.

  “I’m shutting you in. I promise I’ll be back.”

  No one looked panicked. They were probably more used to small, indoor spaces than he was. He would’ve gone apeshit locked in that confined area.

  He jogged back out and flicked on his comms unit to figure out where he was most needed.

  ~~*~~

  An explosion rattled the trap door to the hideout. The artificial lighting flashed and went out, leaving them in utter darkness. Screams sounded overhead.

  Lara paced back and forth. She couldn’t stand the waiting. It sounded like she might be needed to provide emergency care to people outside, and yet she was hiding down here like a coward. It was logical for the president to be sequestered, but it didn’t make sense for her to be.

  When she’d signed up as a Samaritan, she’d known she might put her life at risk on the front lines of war. She hadn’t been afraid. She wasn’t afraid now. Squaring her shoulders, she marched toward the circular metal staircase.

  “It is not safe,” Dasha murmured, sensing her intention without needing to see her movements.

  “I don’t care,” she gritted. “My services are needed.”

  “If you’re going, I’m going,” Alyx said immediately. “Vengeance said I’m to protect you.”

  “No,” she said quickly. “Vengeance said you’re to protect this group. You must stay with the president.” She appealed to his sense of heroism rather than tell him she didn’t care to risk his young life out there. She sensed the boy hesitating. “He told the dog to protect me. Dog will come.”

  She climbed the stairs. The click of the dog’s toenails sounded behind her then the sound of a boot on metal.

  “Alyx, you must stay. The president is our number one priority. You must protect her.” She didn’t know when the rebel’s cause had become hers, but it had.

  The footsteps stopped. She reached the top and pushed at the hatch. It didn’t budge. For one panicked moment, she thought Blade had locked them in, but she shoved again with all her might and light shone through, bringing with it a cascade of limestone.

  The explosion they’d heard must’ve been right above them. There might be rubble on top of the trap door.

  “Alyx, come and help me lift this door.”

  The boy jogged up the stairs two at a time, angling past the dog. He positioned himself beside her with his hands against the warm metal.

  “On three. One...two...three.” They both heaved, and the plate popped open. Something on top of it slid to the side and tumbled off. She pushed the trap door all the way up as Alyx stuck his head out and pointed the gun.

  He popped back in. “It looks clear.”

  “Thank you. I’ll cover it back up. Guard them well.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  On an impulse, she grabbed the boy and pulled him in for a hug. He froze and, when she pulled away, he was blushing.

  “Be careful.”

  “I will.”

  Dog pushed past her, scrambling out and sniffing, ears flattened.

  “Come on, boy, let’s go.” She grabbed her med-kit and jogged down the hall and out onto the field.

  “Doctor!” a voice yelled.

  She turned to see someone waving her over. Running to them, she found a man drawing his last breaths after having half his body blown off. She knelt beside him and wished Dasha had come. She’d be able to ease his pain. He lasted only ten more seconds. His body twitched as the life went out of him. “I’m sorry,” she said to the young woman who had beckoned her.

  Explosions sounded all around them. Ships plunged from the sky, crashing in flames. She stopped and stared, wondering if Blade rode in one of them. The thought turned her cold. He would be in the thick of it, she knew that for certain. But he also seemed impossible to kill, so that gave her hope.

  Seeing two people dragging a body out of a flaming ship, she ran over. “Put him over here. I’ll take care of him while you get the rest out.”

  They did as she instructed, and she examined the victim, who had suffered a head wound and multiple burns but looked like he’d survive. “What’s your name?” Lara asked as she sprayed a c
ooling chemical on the burns.

  “Jean,” the young soldier croaked. He looked over Lara’s head and paled.

  Lara whirled. A Republican airship hovered right above them. It landed, and the hatch opened. Sheenaw soldiers streamed out like a swarm of wasps. They had bodies much like humans, walking upright on two legs, but their heads were larger and more round, their eyes beady and mean. They had fang-like teeth.

  Within seconds, a small group surrounded her as the rest fanned out, shooting all rebel soldiers and rounding up the civilians.

  “Onto the ship,” one of them barked, prodding her with a laser gun.

  Dog bared his teeth, upper lip lifted to reveal his sharp fangs.

  The Sheenaw flicked his gun at Dog and shot him. Dog gave a high-pitched yelp, which trailed into a whine as he flew off his feet onto his side. She lunged for him, but the damn soldier wrapped his fist around her upper arm and yanked her back with bruising force.

  “Get off me,” she snarled, anguish over the damn dog giving her more courage than brains.

  He smacked her head with the butt of his gun, knocking her to the ground. Stars sparked before her eyes. When her focus returned, the limp form of Dog came into view beside her. Still breathing, thank God.

  Her attacker kicked her in the ribs. “Get up. I told you to get on the ship.”

  Out of nowhere, a huge figure in black flashed toward them. His foot landed square in the middle of her attacker’s chest, sending him to the ground. As his foot returned, the toe of his boot hooked under the man’s gun, kicking it into the air. Blade caught it in one hand.

  Of course it was Blade, not slowed in the least by the cast. “Stay down,” he barked as someone fired at him and he jumped out of the way. He fired back, sizzling the soldier with a laser in the middle of his forehead. He wore a look of pure fury. If she’d found his visage with the tattooed war paint frightening before, he was doubly so now.

  She crept toward Dog and wrapped her arms around the shaking beast.

  Laser fire came from all directions, but Blade dropped and rolled, firing as he came up, taking out five behind her then three to her right then four more. Alyx’s story about Blade’s single-handed destruction of an entire mining operation might not have been exaggerated.