by Anna Zaires
Mia rubbed her eyes and gave Jessie a bitter smile. “It’s pretty fair to say, yes.” Taking a deep breath, she said, “Look, I’m sorry about yesterday. I didn’t mean to yell at you—I just really didn’t want you out there, seeing what I guess you saw.”
Jessie nodded, clearly having figured it out on her own. “No worries. I would’ve done the same. I was just worried that he was forcing you or something. So, are you, like, really into him now?”
Mia groaned and buried her head in her pillow. “I don’t know. Every sane part of me says to run as far away as I can, but every time he touches me, I just can’t help myself. It’s like I don’t have any control over this thing. I hate it.”
Jessie’s eyes widened. “Oh, wow. That’s so hot. It’s like the kind of thing you read about in romance novels—he kisses her and she swoons!”
An elusive something kept nagging at Mia this morning, and Jessie’s words suddenly put the puzzle pieces together.
Of course! He did kiss her, and he had explicitly told her that K saliva contained some chemical that kept their prey docile and drugged. It all made sense now—the pleasant lethargy that had spread through her veins and the way her brain had simply turned off the second his lips touched hers, leaving her to operate on pure animal instinct. The chemical was probably even more potent directly in the bloodstream, but she had undoubtedly gotten a nice dose of it last night.
No wonder she had acted like such a slut—not only was she drunk from champagne, but she was also literally high from his kiss.
A burning fury slowly built in her stomach, replacing the sense of humiliation she’d felt earlier. The bastard. He had basically drugged her and very nearly took advantage, and then he had the nerve to accuse her of playing games. Well, screw him! If he thought she would meekly go with him today after class, he had another thing coming.
Her brain whirled, searching for alternatives.
“Jessie,” she said slowly. “Didn’t you once tell me that a cousin of yours had some kind of connections in the Resistance?”
“Uh—” Jessie was clearly surprised. “Are you talking about that thing I once told you about Jason? That was a long time ago, when we were still freshmen. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have anything to do with that anymore, not that I’ve kept in touch with him.” She stared at Mia with a concerned look on her face. “Why are you even asking? What, you want to join the freedom fighters now?”
Mia shrugged, not sure where she was going with this. All she knew was that she refused to meekly become Korum’s sex toy, to be used and discarded at whim.
She had never believed in the anti-K movement and thought that the Resistance fighters were crazy. The Krinar were here to stay. Human weapons and technology were hopelessly primitive in comparison to theirs, and Mia had always thought that trying to fight them was the equivalent of banging your head against the wall—futile and likely dangerous. Besides, it didn’t seem all that bad, once the days of the Great Panic were over. The Ks had mostly left them alone, choosing to live in their own settlements, and life went on with a few minor differences—cleaner air, a healthier diet, and a lot of shattered illusions about humanity’s place in the universe. However, now that she’d had some personal interactions with one particular K, she felt a bit more sympathetic to the fighters’ cause—not that it made the Resistance movement any less futile.
She sighed. “Never mind, it was just a stupid idea. I think I just need to clear my head.” Hopping out of bed, Mia pulled on her jeans, an old T-shirt, and a comfy sweater.
“Wait, Mia. What’s going on?” Jessie was confused by her actions. “Are you upset about what happened last night?”
Mia pulled on her socks and a pair of sneakers. “I guess,” she muttered. Telling her roommate the whole story would just make her worry, and a worried Jessie sometimes did drastic things—such as calling the police once to report Mia missing, when she had simply fallen asleep in the library with a dead phone battery. Not that Jessie could do anything in this case, but she still preferred not to cause her unnecessary distress. “Look, I’m fine,” Mia lied. “I just really need to take a walk and get some air. You know I haven’t exactly had a lot of experience with this type of thing, and this is a little like being thrown in the deep end of the pool. I just want to try to figure out how I feel about all this before I can even begin to talk about it.”
Jessie looked at her with a faintly hurt expression. “Okay, well, sure. Whatever you need to do.” Then she brightened. “Are you going to be home for dinner tonight? I was thinking of cooking some pasta, and we could just have a girls’ night in, watch some old movies . . .”
Mia shook her head with regret. “That sounds amazing, but I really don’t know. I think I’ll be seeing him again today.”
Seeing the worried look on Jessie’s face, she quickly added with a sly smile, “And it might be quite fun.” Before Jessie had a chance to reply, Mia grabbed her backpack and ran out the door with a quick “see you later.”
She walked briskly down the street with no particular destination in mind. Stopping by a deli, she bought a pack of chewing gum—since she hadn’t even brushed her teeth this morning—and a wrap loaded with hummus, avocado, and fresh veggies. Her brain seemed to have gone into hibernation, and she simply walked without thinking about anything in particular, enjoying the feel of her feet striking the pavement and the mid-morning sun warming her face. She must’ve walked like that for a long time because, by the time she started paying attention to street signs, she was already in TriBeCa, a block away from the luxury high-rise that she’d been in less than forty-eight hours ago.
And just like that, she knew what she was going to do—what her subconscious must’ve known even earlier because it had brought her here.
It was really quite simple.
Running was futile. He could track her down anywhere she went, and he had already proven that he could manipulate her body into responding to his with the aid of various chemical substances. No, running wasn’t the answer. He was a hunter. The chase was what he loved, and there was really only one thing she could do to thwart him. She could deny him the chase, take away the enjoyment of pursuing a reluctant prey.
She could come to him herself.
***
Having reached the decision, Mia lost no time in putting it into action.
Entering the lobby of his building, she calmly told the concierge that she was there to see Korum. The man’s eyes widened a little—he clearly knew what the occupant of the top floor was—and he notified the unit of her presence. Ten seconds later, he motioned toward the elevator that was positioned a little to the left of the main one. “Please go ahead, miss. Just enter in 1159 when prompted for a code, and it will take you to the penthouse floor.”
Korum was waiting when the elevator doors opened.
Despite her intention to remain unmoved, her breath caught in her throat and her pulse jacked up at the sight. He wore a soft-looking pair of grey pajama pants and nothing else. His upper body was completely bare, with bronze skin covering chiseled muscle and a light smattering of dark hair visible around small, masculine nipples. Broad shoulders, thick with ropy muscles, tapered down to a slim waist, and an actual six pack covered his flat abdomen. There wasn’t an ounce of fat anywhere on his powerful body.
Mia swallowed to help the dryness in her throat, suddenly far less sure of the wisdom of her plan.
“Mia,” he purred, leaning on the doorway and looking for all the world like a big jungle cat about to pounce. “To what do I owe this pleasure? I was not expecting to see you so early.” Something in her expression must’ve betrayed her because he let out a short laugh. “Ah, I see. It was because I wasn’t expecting you. Well, come on in.”
Padding to the kitchen in his bare feet, he asked, “Have you had breakfast?”
Mia nodded, feeling like a mute but afraid that her voice might betray her nervousness. This was definitely not the best plan. Why had she thought that bearding th
e lion in his den was somehow better than trying to avoid him altogether?
But there was no turning back now.
“Okay, then, perhaps I might interest you in some coffee or tea?” His tone was overly courteous, making a mockery of the normally polite question.
Her chin went up at the realization that he found the whole situation amusing. “No, thanks,” she said coolly, taking pride in the level tone of her voice. “You know why I’m here. Why don’t you stop playing games, so we can just get on with it?”
He stopped and looked at her. There was no trace of laughter on his face. “All right, Mia,” he said slowly. “If that’s how you wish it.”
“One more thing,” she said, wanting to needle him and no longer caring about the consequences. “No drugs of any kind. No alcohol and no saliva anywhere in my body. If you want my blood, you can just cut my vein and drink it that way. And no mouth-to-mouth kissing. I don’t want to be drunk or high today.”
His face darkened, and his eyes seemed to turn into pools of liquid gold. “You think you were high yesterday? Is that what you’re telling yourself to explain what happened? That a couple of glasses of champagne and my magic kisses turned you into a nymphomaniac?” He laughed sardonically. “Well, sorry to disappoint you, darling, but the chemical in our saliva only works if it gets directly into your blood. Maybe if I kissed you all day long, after a few hours you might feel a tiny buzz—if you’re lucky. Of course, if I kissed you all day long, you would probably come dozens of times and be long past noticing any kind of saliva-induced effects.” Still smiling, he said pleasantly, “But have it your way. No kissing and no biting. All else is fair game.”
Coming up to her, he took her hand and led her down the hall. Her heart pounding, Mia went without protest, knowing that the time for changing her mind was long past. She didn’t know whether to believe him and, more importantly, she didn’t want to believe him. If he was telling the truth, then she had made a huge mistake in coming here today. Some foolish part of her had thought that she could do this—let him have sex with her unwilling, unresponsive body, reduce him to being the rapist he’d claimed he was not—and walk away with her emotions untouched, maintaining some kind of moral high ground. If he wasn’t lying, then she was, quite literally, screwed.
He led her into what had to be his bedroom. Like the rest of his penthouse, the room was both modern and opulent at the same time. A large circular bed dominated the center of the room. It was unmade and had obviously been recently slept in. The sheets were a soft ivory color, and the thick blankets and pillows strewn around the bed were a pale shade of blue. Mia’s heart climbed into her throat as she fully realized what she’d just agreed to do.
He released her hand and stepped back, leaving her standing in the middle of the room. “All right,” he said softly, “now take off your clothes.”
Mia stood there frozen, a hot wave of embarrassment rolling through her. He wanted her to remove her clothes, right there in the middle of the sunlit room?
“You heard me,” he repeated, his voice cold despite the yellow heat in his eyes. “Take them off.” Seeing her hesitation, he added, “I can guarantee your clothes will not survive it if I lay my hands on them.”
Mia’s hands shook as she slowly raised them to pull the sweater over her head. He merely watched her, his face inscrutable despite the hunger in his eyes. She took off her sneakers, and her jeans were next, leaving her clad in pink boy-short panties and a T-shirt. She had forgotten to wear a bra and now acutely felt that lack, with her nipples hard and visible against the thin fabric of the T-shirt.
“Now take off your shirt,” he instructed, seeing her pause. The front of his pants was tented, she noticed, and somehow that was oddly reassuring—to know that she had that kind of effect on him, that he wasn’t turned off by her awkwardness or her skinny body. Trembling slightly, she pulled the shirt over her head, revealing her breasts to male eyes for the first time. It took all her willpower not to cross her arms over her chest in a silly virginal gesture; instead, she stood there with her hands fisted at her sides, letting him look his fill.
He came toward her then and touched her, slowly stroking one palm down her back while another hand cupped her left breast, gently kneading it as though to test its weight and texture. “You’re very pretty,” he murmured, looking down at her as his hands deliberately explored her body, every stroke sending ripples of heat down to her nether regions. Standing there in her bare feet, Mia was acutely aware of how much larger his body was compared to hers, with her head barely reaching his shoulder and each of his arms thicker than half of her torso. His hands appeared dark against her pale skin, and she shivered when he moved his palm down to her belly, the width of his open hand nearly spanning the distance between her hip bones. His erection prodded her side, the thin material of his pajama pants doing little to conceal its heat and hardness.
Without the blurring effect from the alcohol or the shield of darkness, there was no retreat from his brutally intimate actions, no merciful escape into a sensual fog. Instead, Mia stood there in broad daylight, exposed and vulnerable, intensely aware of each stroke of his large hands over her body and the warm moisture lubricating her sex in response.
Hooking his thumbs into her underwear, he pushed her panties down her legs, removing her last defense. “Step out of them,” he hoarsely ordered, and Mia obeyed, standing completely naked in his arms. The fact that he was still wearing his pants somehow made the whole thing worse, adding to her sense of complete powerlessness.
He touched her buttocks, his hands curving around the small pale globes of her ass and lightly squeezing them. “Very nice,” he whispered, and Mia blushed for some inexplicable reason. The dark curls between her legs attracted his attention next, and Mia flinched when his fingers slowly stroked her pussy hair, looking for the tender flesh underneath. Feeling her wetness, he smiled with purely masculine satisfaction, and Mia’s embarrassment grew tenfold. This was the worst part—knowing that her own body betrayed her, that a creature who was not even human could provoke this kind of response from her under the circumstances.
“No mouth-to-mouth, right?” he murmured, picking her up and carrying her over to the bed. Mia nodded, squeezing her eyes shut in the hopes that it would be over with quickly. Instead, he placed her in the middle of the circular bed, like some virginal sacrifice, and crawled down her body until his head was above the juncture of her legs. Mia tried to rear up then, realizing his intentions, but he had no intention of letting her go. Instead, he easily held down her flailing legs with his elbows while his fingers leisurely parted her folds, exposing her most sensitive place to his burning gaze. Lowering his head, he gently pressed his tongue, soft and flat, against her clitoris—just holding it there and letting her struggle until she could bear it no longer, her entire body arching with the most powerful climax of her life.
While she lay there, still shuddering with little aftershocks, he rose up on his knees, deftly stripping off the pants to reveal a large jutting penis. Mia’s eyes widened as she realized that her first time would likely involve more than a minor discomfort, given the size of the cock in front of her.
Seeing her fear, he paused. “Mia,” he said quietly, “we don’t have to do this if you’re not ready. I can wait—”
She shook her head, unable to think past the fog of desire clouding her brain. It had taken all her courage to get this far, to allow him so much intimacy. To retreat now seemed cowardly, and Mia felt a sudden, irrational dread that this was it—that if she gave up a chance to experience such passion now, she would never feel it again.
He didn’t need much encouragement. Before her logical side could reassert itself, he was already over her, parting her legs with one powerfully muscled thigh and settling in between them. Looking steadily into her eyes, he began to push his cock into her opening, slowly working it in inch by slow inch.
Regretting her decision almost immediately, Mia writhed under him, feeling like a heate
d baseball bat was attempting to enter her channel. Despite the wetness from her orgasm, her inner muscles did not want to let him in, desperately clenching to repel the invasion. “Shhh,” he whispered soothingly as tears rolled down her face at the burning discomfort that threatened to morph into pain. Beads of sweat appeared on his own face at the obvious strain of holding back, his arms flexing as he held himself steady, trying to let the delicate muscles stretch around his shaft before proceeding. But Mia could not hold still, every instinct leading her to fight the penetration, little cries escaping from her throat as he pressed further, pausing briefly at the internal barrier. “I’m sorry,” he said hoarsely, and Mia screamed as he pushed forward in one smooth motion, tearing through the membrane that was blocking his entrance and sheathing his cock to the hilt, his pubic hair pressing against her own.
Mia’s vision went dark for a second, and hot nausea boiled up her throat as a knife-like pain tore through her insides. She had never expected to feel such agony, and she dug her nails into his shoulders, raw, guttural cries breaking out from her throat, desperately wanting to escape the object tearing her body apart. All earlier pleasure forgotten, she writhed under him like a fish on a hook, barely registering the soothing platitudes he was murmuring in her ear and the gentle kisses he was raining on her cheeks and forehead.
At some point, the agonizing pain began to abate, and she realized that he wasn’t moving, just holding himself deep inside her, his muscles quivering from the effort it took to stay still. “I’m sorry,” he was saying, apparently repeating it for the umpteenth time, “it will get better, I promise. Just let yourself relax, and it won’t hurt like that anymore, I promise you . . . Shhh, my darling, just relax . . . there’s a good girl . . . It will get better soon, I promise . . .”
Liar, Mia thought bitterly. How could it get better when he was still inside her, the organ that had caused her so much pain lodged deeply within? She felt violated and betrayed, pinned under his much larger body with no hope of escape until he was done. “Just finish it,” she told him harshly, willing to tolerate anything to have this be over.
