Rebel

by Aubrey Ross

  Meredith had a hundred questions, but years of training had taught her the usefulness of listening.

  “They’ve not, as yet, made specific demands. Their message listed their points of contention but didn’t spell out their terms.”

  “Do we know who they are, Sir?”

  “They refer to themselves in the plural. ‘We’ are unhappy with… It is unacceptable to ‘us’ that… And so forth. But the message was closed with a single name. We think it might be an acronym, but they didn’t explain the meaning.”

  “You said I was uniquely qualified to handle this situation, Sir. What did you mean?”

  “You excel in covert operations. You have proven to be extremely discreet. The Comet Coalition has always refused to negotiate with terrorists, and we cannot afford to compromise that position.”

  “So, this operation is completely unofficial?”

  “Exactly,” the admiral confirmed.

  “How was the kidnapping accomplished? When and where did it take place?”

  “Palmer was taken from his dorm room on d’Arrest the same night Danette and Ashton disappeared from a gala.”

  “Disappeared?” She detected a certain significance in the word. “There were no witnesses? No apparent struggle?”

  “That’s correct,” Admiral Tiptonn muttered. “They just disappeared into thin air. No one saw or heard anything.”

  “May I see the message?”

  He opened a file folder on the table in front of him and produced a single sheet of paper. Meredith took it from him and quickly scanned the rambling contents before her gaze focused on the intricate symbol at the bottom of the page.

  “NëvouS.” Her heart lodged in her throat. Did they know? Was this a test of her allegiance?

  “Who is NëvouS? Do you know what that symbol signifies?” Admiral Tiptonn asked, his sharp gray eyes searching her features.

  “Perhaps.” She swallowed and scooted to the edge of her chair. “Within certain circles, my stepson Korbin Reah is known as NëvouS. He has used this avatar since he was old enough to activate an access terminal. I’m not supposed to know these things, of course, but Korbin is not quite as clever as he believes.”

  “Your stepson is one of the rebels?” Chief Justice Boehme was clearly upset by the prospect.

  “Korbin Reah is on our list of suspects,” Admiral Tiptonn reminded her. “We had no idea this man was your son.”

  “I was married to his father. Does this disqualify me from the mission?”

  “Only if you insist,” the premier said. “I think it’s a wonderful stroke of luck.”

  * * * * *

  Korbin knew he was being a fool, but he couldn’t stay away. After transmitting his message to the executive council through an untraceable series of relays, he’d found himself at the door to the control booth. He stood there for a long time, reminding himself of all the reasons he couldn’t interact with Danette Tiptonn.

  But the memory of her lather-slicked body haunted him. Her soft cries of passion echoed endlessly through his mind. He hadn’t instructed her to touch herself. She’d taunted him with the display, challenging him—summoning him.

  Pleasure Master Nine was happy to oblige. Korbin entered the booth. Larz sat in one of the two chairs. The control panel on his forearm emitted music as he watched the displays.

  “Any activity?” Korbin slipped into the chair beside the younger man.

  “Nope. It seems our guests are used to a more leisurely timetable than Borrelly requires. They’re both still sleeping.”

  “Take a break. It’s bound to be a long, boring day.”

  “Sure, boss.” Larz stood and started toward the door. “I’m really sorry about the other night. It won’t happen again.”

  Korbin managed a stiff nod. At least one of them had learned their lesson.

  “Did you send the message?”

  “Yes, but this one just confirms what we’ve done. Later this afternoon I’ll transmit our demands.”

  Larz nodded. “See you in a few.”

  Korbin focused immediately on Danette’s sleeping image. Why couldn’t he banish her from his thoughts? It wasn’t for lack of trying. With the negotiations underway, it was only a matter of time before the council responded and she was whisked back to Halley Prime. His pampered princess would be locked in her ivory tower, inaccessible to someone like him.

  The thought twisted around Korbin like a massive snake, stealing his breath and tightening his chest. He might never see her again. Why was that possibility so painful? It was irrational. He hardly knew her. No, he didn’t know her at all. But the need to get to know her burned through him like slow-moving lava.

  Desire fueled his determination and Korbin turned his attention to the control console. Larz wouldn’t be gone long. Korbin had to hurry. Programming carefully selected segments of the video record into a randomly changing loop, Korbin constructed the illusion needed to assure their privacy.

  The door to the control booth opened and Larz strolled in. “Anything interesting?” The younger man slipped back into his chair as Korbin stood.

  “The college boy has been sort of restless, but the princess is sleeping like a baby.”

  “Damn, she’s hot,” Larz whispered.

  “Look. Don’t touch. And don’t talk to her again.” Amused by his own hypocrisy, Korbin smiled. “I’ll check back with you later.”

  “No hurry. I can babysit with the best of them.” Larz fingered the control band on his wrist and accessed his music files.

  Korbin slipped from the booth and headed down the corridor. His heart beat faster with each step. He’d just talk to her, find out who trained her. Why did she seem so familiar? He’d spent four years at the Pleasure Palace, but his interaction with the clientele had been minimal. He’d been hired to train other Masters, to teach a variety of techniques and approaches to sensual power exchange.

  Maybe he could… Heat surged through his body, mocking his nonchalance. He’d do a whole lot more than talk if she gave the slightest indication she was agreeable. As if the scene in the shower wasn’t invitation enough?

  Slipping soundlessly into the holding cell, Korbin waited for his eyes to adjust to the dimness. He could barely make out her shape on the bed, but even this was too risky. He crept across the room then deactivated the lights with a Borrellian voice command.

  Chapter Three

  Startled from her sleep by a foreign phrase, Danette opened her eyes to darkness. “What the… Hello?”

  Silence.

  Oh shit, what now? Three days of monotonous boredom had lulled her into a sense of security. “Why did you turn off the lights?” She huddled on the bed, blinking in a futile effort to focus through the darkness. The Pleasure Master had used the dark to motivate her. Had he finally returned? A violent shiver sped down her spine. “This is suffocating.”

  “If you see my face, I’ll have to kill you. I thought you’d prefer the dark.”

  His deep, faintly accented voice came from right beside the bed. Danette gasped and scrambled into the corner. His warm hand grasped her ankle and pulled her away from the wall. She screamed.

  “The room is sealed. No one can hear you. Calm down.”

  “What… What do you want?” She twisted, trying to dislodge his hand.

  “I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to talk.”

  She laughed. “Pleasure Masters don’t talk, they command.”

  “Well, I’m commanding you to talk to me.” He skimmed his hands up her body until he found her shoulders. He didn’t cup her mound or fondle her breasts. It didn’t make sense. Why was he here if he didn’t mean to fuck her?

  “Lie back. The darkness is less disorienting if you lie still.”

  “Are the others… Can they hear us?”

  “No one can hear us. Just relax.” Applying gentle pressure, he guided her down. “That’s better.”

  Danette trembled. His hands were warm and strong. Awareness pulsed between them, aw
akening long-neglected desire. She closed her eyes, wishing she could see him. “What have you done with Palmer and Ashton?”

  “They’re safe, for now.”

  That voice. She knew that voice, knew she’d encountered this man at the Pleasure Palace, but couldn’t quite pinpoint his identity. “Why should I trust you?” She started to sit again, but his hands remained firm on her shoulders. If she struggled, would he understand? Would he climb on top of her and hold her down? Would he kiss her into silence and… She was being ridiculous. He was here for information not sex.

  “You can believe me or not, it makes no difference.” He squeezed her shoulders and stroked her neck.

  She arched away from his light caress but kept her arms at her sides. It didn’t matter if he was a Pleasure Master. He was obviously one of the rebels. And that fact was the only one that mattered.

  “Why did you touch yourself in the shower? You did so long before I told you to.”

  Swallowing with difficulty, Danette debated what to say. “You said you couldn’t touch me, so I… Isn’t that want you wanted? A hostage is supposed to cooperate with their captor. That’s what keeps them alive long enough to be rescued.”

  “Don’t you mean ransomed? How are you going to be rescued when no one knows where you are?”

  She wanted to laugh. Would it shock him to know she didn’t want to be rescued? She was just as much a prisoner on Halley Prime as she was in this holding cell. Her father planned her days and scrutinized her every movement, making sure she never did anything inappropriate again.

  It didn’t seem to matter where she was; she was destined to be an isolated captive.

  “How much are you asking for me?” she whispered.

  “How much are you worth?”

  “To my father? Everything.”

  “And to your Master?”

  Was this a trick? Was he recording their conversation? Had he recorded her wanton behavior in the shower? Her father already considered her a perverted whore. He felt it his parental obligation to save her from herself.

  “I no longer have a Master,” she admitted in a pain-filled whisper.

  She’d spent the first nineteen years of her life in her father’s shadow. Men either avoided her entirely or tripped over each other trying to impress her father by wooing her. But they had no real interest in the person they romanced. She was Admiral Tiptonn’s daughter, their ticket to promotion and long-term success.

  “Did he dismiss you from his service or did you ask to be released?”

  Pain spiked through her at his casual question. If he only knew! “Why do you care? Who are you?” Her voice barely a whisper, she confessed, “Your voice is so familiar. I know we’ve met before.”

  He was silent for a long time. If it weren’t for his hands on her shoulders, she would have thought he’d left the room. She searched her memory, frantically trying to connect his voice with a face, an incident.

  It came back to her in a startling rush. The sensual curve of his lips and the shimmer of his emerald gaze visible through the eye holes in his mask. This was Paul’s teacher. Pleasure Master Nine! Did he remember her? It had been so long ago. A slow heated pulse expanded within her, intensifying until she bit her lip to keep from groaning. He wasn’t just a Master, he taught the others, trained the trainers. Danette could scarcely breathe.

  “Where did you receive your training?”

  “We both know where we met and why people go there.”

  He stroked the side of her face, tracing her full lower lip with his thumb. “How old are you?” His voice was hushed, speculative. “I don’t see how we could have been there at the same time.”

  “I was nineteen when my training began.”

  Sorrow choked her. Paul. Her heart cried out his name. Even after three and a half years she mourned his loss. She missed his easy smile and flashing eyes. But even more than the man himself, she longed for the security of his aggressive embrace and the unbridled passion she’d only known as his willing slave.

  In her youth Danette had enjoyed a freedom—no, that wasn’t true, she hadn’t enjoyed her freedom any more than she enjoyed the regimented structure her father forced upon her now. As a teen she’d been allowed to go wherever she wished—with her entourage of course—and anything she showed the least interest in had been immediately provided for her. But none of the excess had meant anything to her. She longed for her father’s approval and grew more desperate for her parents’ attention, so she began to misbehave.

  Her rebellions were subtle at first, a conflict with a tutor, outrageous behavior in a public place. Danette’s mother was the most non-confrontational person Danette had ever known, so discipline was left entirely to her father. At first he made excuses for her antics. Then he ignored them completely, insisting that it was just a phase she was going through. So Danette grew bolder, her misbehaviors more shocking.

  On the surface, submitting to a Pleasure Master simply fulfilled her need for structure. But Paul had taught her how to trust, how to lose herself completely in their shared pleasure. He had also strengthened her confidence and helped restore her self-esteem. Their sessions had been so much more than sexual.

  Then eight months after she’d agreed to serve Paul, her father rescued her from Paul’s perversion by dispatching him on a mission he couldn’t possibly survive.

  A sob escaped Danette and she covered her face with her hands. Pleasure Master Nine joined her on the bunk. Lying on his side, he pulled her against him and wrapped his arms around her back.

  “Why are you crying? Tell me now.” His tone brooked no refusal.

  “I can’t.”

  “You will.”

  She trembled. This was her opportunity. All she had to do was object and he’d be obligated to punish her, to take control of her aching body and give her some relief from the nightmare that was her life. Her nipples hardened and her pussy clenched. No one had touched her since Paul. Her father wouldn’t let her near a Master and she didn’t want anyone else.

  Captivity had left her feeling helpless and utterly alone, but she hadn’t been a hostage for a few days. She’d been imprisoned for the past three and a half years.

  “Talk to me.” His tone softened, became coxing.

  She didn’t need a friend. She needed a Master, someone strong enough to drive the rest of the world away. It was insane to expect comfort within her captivity, yet here he was, touching her, holding her down. “Go to hell,” she snapped.

  He covered her lower body with his leg and grasped her wrists, dragging her hands above her head. He understood! Thank the stars, he understood what she needed, what her lonely heart craved.

  His muscular chest pressed her into the bunk as he reached for something above her hands.

  “There it is,” he muttered, and she heard a metallic click.

  Guiding her wrists into the restraint cuffs he’d just released from the wall, the Pleasure Master quickly secured her arms. Her heart thundered, making her giddy with anticipation. He grabbed the waistband of her uniform bottom. She kicked and twisted, knowing her movements made his goal easier to achieve.

  “You promised you wouldn’t hurt me.” She was afraid to say no, afraid he’d stop, yet she felt obligated to object.

  “And you believed me?” He laughed. “Silly princess.”

  He stripped her from the waist down while she thrashed and yelped. Moving between her thighs, he draped her legs over his shoulders and raised her hips off the bed. His mouth hovered over her slit. Danette arched and panted. His hot breath stirred her damp folds, but he didn’t touch her. Tension built.

  This was madness. She’d never been so desperate for release. Her abdomen cramped with need and he’d yet to touch her intimately.

  “Please… Master, don’t do this.”

  Slowly, dragging his tongue from back to front, he parted her folds and flicked her clit. Danette sighed as pleasure spiraled through her pussy.

  “Please, Master, don’t put your
fingers inside me.”

  His throaty chuckle vibrated her passion-slick flesh. Thrusting two fingers deep into her core, he lavished attention on her clit. He licked and sucked, circled and flicked. Danette tossed her head and clenched her fists, tugging against the restraints. The cold metal encircling her wrists added a thrilling edge to the pleasure. It felt so good to be taken, to be used by a man who understood her unique needs. A moan built in her throat and her inner muscles rippled. He pulled out and lifted his mouth.

  “No!” She’d been so damn close. The ache intensified, making her whimper.

  “You will only come when I tell you to. If you climax without permission, you will be punished.”

  Sensation receded, leaving her shaky and hollow, yet peaceful for the first time in years. “Yes, Master.”

  He lowered her hips to the bed, arranging her legs loosely around his waist. “Shall I fuck you with my fingers? My fingers are much bigger than yours. Would you like that, princess?”

  “No. I don’t want your fingers inside me. I will never want your cock inside me.” Strained and husky, her voice revealed the depth of her need.

  He didn’t respond with words. Sliding two fingers deep into her snug core, he pressed her mound with the heel of his other hand and began to move. “How does that feel?”

  It felt like a teasing hint of what she really wanted, but Danette squeezed his fingers greedily and let the pleasure build. It had been so long since a man brought her to orgasm. Discreet vibrating toys and the shallow relief of her own touch was the only pleasures she’d known since… Her inner muscles throbbed and heated tingles sank deep into her body.

  “Please, Master, may I come?”

  “Yes. Come for me, princess. Let me feel your pleasure.”

  He thrust hard, rubbing his hand against her mound. Danette raised her hips, taking his fingers deeper. Her orgasm burst with blinding intensity. She cried out as her body shook and her inner muscles squeezed. Panting harshly, she reveled in each scorching pulse, each sensuous wave.