Brawn

by Laurann Dohner

  Brawn’s head whipped around and he growled low. “She’s frightened.” He stared at Becca again. “Hold on to me. I wasn’t angry with you. It was directed at me. Now is not the time to discuss it.”

  She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck. He hooked one arm around her waist, lifted and his other arm caught her behind her knees, trapping the nightshirt to maintain her modesty as he hoisted her up. He slowly turned to study the men with narrowed eyes.

  “I will move slowly. May I walk out now?”

  Randy jerked his head at one of the guys and a very nervous Ray approached to unlock the chains and open the cage door. It did Becca’s heart good to see the sheer terror on those jerk’s faces over what Brawn could do to them. He was intimidating and a big, powerful guy. Without her, he probably could kick their asses.

  “Come out,” Randy urged. “Nice and slow, kitty cat.” He raised his weapon, pointed it at Becca and frowned. “She will get hit first.”

  “I won’t risk her life.” Brawn moved cautiously out of the cage, his steps slow and nonthreatening.

  Fear and uncertainty battled inside Becca as they were led to a different room than the one where 919 had been chained. This one had a metal bunk and a camera mounted in the corner. A table had been set up in another corner. The door closed behind them and the goons kept their weapons pointed at them.

  “Put her down and walk over to the cot,” Randy directed.

  Brawn hesitated. “You don’t need to chain me. I said I wouldn’t fight.”

  “Do as I say. That’s not up for debate. Strip off the clothes, lie down on your back and don’t fight when you are restrained. Got it?”

  Brawn lowered her to her feet, released her and strode to the long, metal bed with bars for a headboard and a small bar for a footboard. A grimace flashed over his handsome features as he approached it and Becca purposely turned her back to spare him her stare as well. Ray rushed for Becca, aimed his gun at her face, while Randy tracked Brawn’s movements with his weapon. The other two men set theirs by the door and moved out of her line of sight to go after Brawn.

  She heard the rustle of sweatpants being removed, the cot squeaked from his weight and chains rattled. Randy lowered his gun and stepped closer to her, gaining her full attention.

  “Here’s what you’re going to do. You listening?”

  “Yes.” She glared at him.

  He spun, walked to the table where a tray of items had been laid out and held up a tube of something and a specimen cup. “Lube and a cup with a lid that you seal. Need I spell it out?” He glanced over his shoulder and smirked. “As soon as he gets off, you rush to that door and it will open. Ray will take the sample from you and Dean will shoot you if you try any shit.” His gaze lifted to the camera before giving her a warning glare. “I’m going to be viewing every damn thing you do. Don’t fuck with his chains or drag your feet from the time he gives it up until you take it to the door.” He turned fully to face her and walked closer with both items. “The doc wants at least eight samples this time.”

  Becca’s eyebrows lifted. “Eight?”

  Randy cocked his head and frowned. “Eight. You got a problem with that?”

  “He might.” Heat warmed her cheeks. “That’s a lot.”

  “Not for them.” Randy studied Brawn. “Been holding back from your girlfriend, huh? She a rotten lay or what?”

  “She’s human,” Brawn answered with a deep, angry voice. “Not a Species female.”

  A laugh escaped Randy and his frown disappeared. “Awe, isn’t that cute, guys?” He stepped closer to Becca. “Your boyfriend might be a kitty cat but they fuck like dogs in heat. The scent of a willing woman or one touching them will keep them hard and going for hours. He only needs about a twenty second recovery time and he’ll be good to stroke or suck off again.” He held out the tube and cup. “Don’t let him shoot in your mouth. Saliva mixed with sperm fucks up the sample. No spitting it into the cup.”

  Becca woodenly accepted the items, hated Randy and hoped when her father arrived he’d lend her a gun. She’d like to shoot at Randy again and wouldn’t miss if given a second chance.

  “Anything else?”

  His gaze drifted down her. “Yeah. Maybe when you’re done with him, you could give me a hand.” He laughed as he turned away and strode to the door. “Hurry up if you want to eat or don’t want him hooked up to that machine. You’ve got two hours.”

  The men left the room and Becca stood there with her back to the cot. Brawn was chained down naked. She stared at the tube and the sample cup, glanced at the table to see more cups set up and closed her eyes. This was going to be rough.

  “Becca?” Brawn spoke softly. “It’s okay. I’m restrained and can’t hurt you.”

  “I’m not worried about that.” Her eyes remained closed. “I’m so damn sorry about this.”

  “It’s no hardship.” He softly growled. “I am the one who feels guilty.”

  That made her almost turn to him. “Why? You didn’t kidnap us.”

  He hesitated. “This is going to be much easier on me than it will be on you. I will somehow make this right between us.”

  She took a deep breath. “Why were you mad?” It bothered her how violently he’d reacted inside the cage after he’d made out with her…and so much more. “Did I do something? Did I hurt you? I didn’t mean to bite you.”

  “I wanted you and was too out of control to risk it.” Honesty sounded in his voice.

  She turned, kept her eyes closed and knew she’d have to open them. “I feel like I’m about to rape you or something.”

  “Becca? Look at me.”

  She did and it was a sight she’d never forget. His long frame was stretched out over the cot, every inch of him bare. He lay on his back and his cock jutted upward, thick and hard. Her gaze lingered there for seconds before jerking her focus to his face. He watched her calmly.

  “I want you to touch me. I can’t lose control now. I feel guilty for that but it’s the truth. Am I sick for this?”

  She took a step closer to him without thinking about it. “No.”

  “I’m turned-on and you’re not. This is traumatic for you, I’m aware of that, yet I still ache to feel your hands on me.”

  He glanced away, stared at the ceiling and his mouth tensed into a tight, firm line. Becca suddenly didn’t feel as uncomfortable as before. He’d gotten her off, it had been amazing and she wanted to do the same for him. She couldn’t help but wince over the presence of the camera but as she darted a look at it and realized she could block most everything with her body if she sat on the edge of the cot by his hip.

  She squared her shoulders. “We’re a team. We’re going to get through this together.”

  Her words seemed to surprise him and he met her steady gaze as she sat on the space between his hip and the edge of the cot. It wasn’t very wide. She placed the cup down next to her thigh to keep it pinned between them after twisting the lid off, opened the cap to the lube and spread some on her fingers. She couldn’t meet his gaze though.

  “You ready?”

  “Yes.” His stomach muscles tensed. “I’m sorry, Becca,” he whispered.

  She finally looked up. “Don’t be. Just tell me before, um, you know.”

  He nodded.

  “What do you prefer?” She felt feverish from her flushed cheeks as she whispered, remembering to keep her voice down to give them some privacy. This probably was the most awkward sexual encounter she’d ever had. They weren’t kissing or lost in the moment. The room was cold, sterile and the guy was chained down while a sick bastard watched from another room. “Fast? Slow? I should know this since we’re a couple.” Her hand reached for his cock but hesitated an inch away.

  “Whatever you do will feel good.” His voice came out raspy.

  “Are you sure I can do this? I mean…hell.”

  “Yes. Just remember that I make sounds. Some might sound as if I’m angry but it’s normal. You can’t hurt me and I ach

e for your touch.”

  She focused on his cock. It was thick, perfect and something she’d consider beautiful. A smile almost surfaced when she realized that, never believing she’d ever pin that term on a man’s penis. Her fingers stroked the shaft, explored the soft skin wrapped around a rock-hard erection. A rumbled purr filled the room and she lifted her gaze to watch Brawn’s face.

  He had closed his eyes, probably to make her more comfortable and he bit his lower lip. He looked sexy as hell and he wasn’t the only one who worried about being perverted because it was a hot image having him chained down. She only wished they were at her house, in her bed and alone.

  He shifted a little on the bed when she wrapped her other hand around the crown of his cock, stroked it and grasped his shaft firmly. She started slow, exploring while stroking him up and down and his breathing increased. It fascinated her, watching his muscles ripple as he began to slowly rock his hips. A fine sheen of sweat broke out on his chest, his purrs increased in resonance and it was the hottest damn thing ever.

  “I’m going to,” he growled, his voice harsh.

  She released him with one hand, gripped the cup and wondered how the hell she was going to make that work. Brawn’s feet braced against the bottom bar of the cot he was chained to, he tilted his hips upward and she lowered his cock until it almost touched his belly. The cup caught his seed as he started to come.

  He groaned loudly, shook with the force of his climax and she had to remember to hold the cup when she really wanted to just watch him. Hearing him caused her nipples to tighten. His body jerked a little with each stroke, filling the cup a little more as she milked him of every drop with her fingers. She released his shaft and he relaxed his muscles, his big body going lax, as he panted.

  Becca remembered to cap the cup, stand and on shaky legs walked to the door. It opened before she reached it and Ray held out a gloved hand. His mouth opened but then snapped closed. He took it without comment and left, closing the door behind him. Becca rushed back to Brawn’s side after grabbing a new sample cup from the table.

  His eyes were closed as he caught his breath and she stroked his chest after wiping off the lube with the edge of the blanket. “Are you okay?”

  His incredible eyes opened to peer at her and the look in them was something she’d never forget as he smiled. The yellow had overtaken the blue, seemed nearly golden and took her breath away.

  “I love your soft hands.”

  Tears filled her eyes, unable to hold them back. “Good.”

  Alarm killed his smile. “I’m sorry, Becca.”

  “For what?”

  “I’ve harmed you by association. You’re here doing this because you were living with me. I shouldn’t have left Homeland. You’d be home if I hadn’t.”

  She leaned over him, her hair falling across his arm and chest, and got close enough to nearly touch her lips to his. “I’m just glad you’re okay. We have to do this seven more times.”

  “You are crying. This hurts you.”

  “It’s the stress, Brawn.” Her hand caressed his chest. “I’m not hurt. I’m more worried about you than me. You’re the one chained down who has to do this seven more times. I got the easy part, actually.”

  He nodded sharply. “The faster this is over, the sooner they will return us to the cage to feed us. Let’s do this.”

  Surprise shot through her. “Again? So soon?”

  He gave her a grim look of determination. “I’m Species. I’m ready.”

  Brawn refused to admit that her touching him had been a staggering experience and he already ached for her to begin again. He could have sworn he smelled her arousal but it was probably from earlier. Her tears tore him up inside and he knew once this was over, if they were rescued, this day would haunt her.

  She leaned back from him and he missed her closeness instantly. He closed his eyes so she felt more comfortable not being watched, knew her aversion to that from her words about the cameras and hated the way his cock stiffened with need from knowing her hands would be on him again soon.

  The light brush of her fingertips made him bite his lip to stifle a snarl. His heart raced, his arms strained against the chains and he wanted to break them. He was grateful they held. Otherwise he’d grab her, tear off her clothes and pin her under his body. He wanted inside her so bad it was killing him.

  Just the mental image of her under him, her thighs spread and his cock driving into her pussy was enough to make him ready to come. Her hands were stoking him. They felt amazing but he just knew it would feel better with her vaginal walls squeezing him tighter than her current hold on him.

  “Tighter,” he hissed through gritted teeth, hating himself just a little more for even asking.

  Her hands gripped him more firmly, moved faster and he knew shame as he rasped out that she should grab the cup. The world became a white haze of pleasure as he came hard, tried to remember to breathe and it didn’t stop until she released his sex. He panted, caught his breath and knew pure hell. Not only would Becca never look at him again without being reminded of what the evil Mercile employees were capable of but she’d believe he was a pathetic male who couldn’t hold his seed long enough to give pleasure if they were to share sex.

  Light caresses traced his skin and her hair tickled as she leaned against his side. “It’s going to be okay,” she whispered. “We’re a team and we’re going to get through this. Six more times. That’s all.”

  Rage gripped him. She was trying to comfort him, assure him that they’d somehow survive and he even failed her there. He nodded, not trusting himself to look at her in case she looked upon him with pity. He couldn’t take that.

  “It will be.” He kept his voice firm, strong and hoped she didn’t lose all respect for him.

  Chapter Eight

  Brawn was so silent that Becca worried about him deeply. She finished her oatmeal, a horrible, overcooked bowl of cold mush and almost envied him the bloody steaks he’d been given. She sat on the cot inside their cage, he sat cross-legged in the far corner with the plate balanced on his lap and avoided even glancing her way. He’d been that way ever since she’d taken the last semen sample from him and the goon squad had returned to transfer them back to the cage.

  “How are the steaks?” She tried a casual question to test his mood.

  “Cold.” He took another bite, blood dripped onto the plate and he chewed. “They seared them but it was a while ago. I think they put them in a refrigerator afterward.”

  “I’m sorry. Do you want some oatmeal?” She glanced at the half-eaten portion, more than willing to give him the rest. As hungry as she was, it was like eating pasty, tasteless glue.

  He shook his head. “Keep up your strength. Eat it all.”

  He didn’t offer her any of his steak and her shoulders sagged. She’d been hopeful he’d share. She’d take nearly raw and cold meat over tasteless crap any day. “Are you tired? We could share the cot.”

  That got her a frowning look. “I’ll sleep on the floor. Lie down if you wish to rest.”

  Anger and pain hit at the same time as she dropped her gaze. “I’m fine. I thought you might be tired. You can have the bed and I’ll sit on the floor. You need the rest.” He’d just given up eight samples, and he might not be human, but she figured any guy would want to sleep after that kind of activity.

  “I am used to hardships. The bed is yours.”

  Her eyes closed and she took a few shallow breaths to avoid the tears that threatened. Maybe he hated her just a bit for what he’d just endured. She’d resent being tied down and forced to climax eight times because someone wanted samples from her. Of course it wouldn’t be so awful if it were Brawn doing the touching. He wasn’t her though.

  “Sleep, Becca.” He growled a little. “The oatmeal will keep.”

  Of course it would. It wasn’t as if it could taste any worse. She leaned down, placed the bowl on the floor and lay on the cot with her back to Brawn. She curled into a ball, hugged her chest and fought tears.

  Where the hell were her father and his team? Why were they taking so long if they could track Brawn? She knew they’d traveled for hours but the NSO had been warned when they’d received the call from Brawn. A team should have already been dispatched by the time they’d been taken from the property yet they hadn’t shown up.

  What if the damn tracker is defective? She pushed that thought back, unwilling to even consider it. Hope of being rescued was all she had to keep her sanity. Otherwise at some point that bitch doctor would have enough money to flee the country, she’d sell Brawn and the three other New Species to some pricks in Europe after they kidnapped a primate and that would leave Becca shit out of luck. They’d either kill her outright or leave her to die inside the cage.

  If abandoned, it would be a toss-up what killed her first. Starvation or the insanity caused by being left in the dark, locked up with no hope. It would be pure hell either way. She’d have water, thanks to the hose they’d dragged to the side of the cage to let her wash her hands and face. Of course they could take that away too if they decided to just abandon her when they left.

  Hot tears seeped out and she muffled a sob. She was afraid and hated it. The fact that Brawn was acting so distant made it worse. He was being a shitty teammate.

  “Becca?” A firm hand gripped her hip.

  “I’m fine.”

  “You’re not. Look at me.”

  “No.” She sniffed. “I’m just being emotional. I’m okay. Go eat.”

  He softly growled and forced her to roll onto her back. She opened her eyes, had to blink a few times to see him through her tears and he leaned over her until his nose nearly brushed hers.

  “What is wrong? Are you hurting? Still hungry? You should eat more.”

  “I’m scared,” she admitted, whispering. “They should have found us by now and they haven’t. I don’t think they are going to.”

  Shock didn’t register on his face and it sank in that he might have already considered that possibility. It just made the horrible possibility more real and fresh tears spilled out.

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