Seeing the absolute control she wielded over his body gave her a rush of power, unlike anything she had ever known. Like wielding her whip to command, except instead of fear of pain, he was hers by way of pleasure.
Cupping his stones again, she noted how they seemed even tighter than before, as if drawing up.
That was where his seed came from. She stroked them with her thumb, purring as he rocked to her motions.
Now getting used to the rhythm, her throat relaxed and she was able to taken him deeper still.
“Stop,” he groaned but Allora ignored him, wanting to feel his release, to swallow him, the same way he was consuming her. I don’t know where he ends and I begin. Stranger still, she didn’t care, wanted nothing but to please him, and herself as well.
“Allora!” His shout echoed off the walls as he came in her mouth so hard she was sure she would have gagged if she hadn’t been so excited that she swallowed everything he gave her.
Staggering back he splashed down in the water, drawing her up next to him.
She rested her head over his heart, reveling in the thundering tattoo, more content than she’d ever been before. And we’re only half done—he still has to wash me. She shivered in expectation.
“What the bleeding hell is going on here?”
She met Cormack’s startled gaze an instant before her happiness shattered and they both turned to face the overlord.
10
Cormack shoved Allora behind him, using his naked body to hide hers from the overlord’s condemning stare. Timing is everything.
“Task Mistress Allora, explain your actions, now!”
He felt Allora stiffen behind him, her iron will surfacing. “I owe you no explanations,” she paused before adding “Father.”
The overlord stared at Cormack with hatred blazing in his eyes. “Ungrateful slut, this is the thanks I get for taking you in, sheltering you all these years.
You spread your legs for a filthy Bred!”
Cormack lunged for the other man’s throat. “Do not speak of her that way!”
Before he could make contact pain erupted from somewhere deep inside his head. He tried to push past it, but it was no use. Groaning in agony, he crumpled to the ground, retching. What the hell had happened?
“Stop it!” Allora rushed past him but the overlord blocked her path.
“Listen to me, you filthy whore. You will put on your armor and escort this Bred to the draining chamber. He attacked the colony overlord and if not for the nonviolent conditioning he had received during gestation, I would have been physically assaulted. His makeup is flawed and he is scheduled for immediate recycling. You will watch him die. Then you will report back to me, immediately, where I shall decide your fate.” He leveled his gaze on her. “Pray I am in a merciful mood.”
Allora squared her shoulders. “Overlord, you wouldn’t recognize mercy if I booted it up your ass.”
For a moment Cormack thought the overlord was having an apoplectic fit, his color had turned a mottled purple hue. His hand drew back and struck Allora across the face. Cormack's vision went red before he attempted to attack the other man once more. But his legs refused to support his weight. The fine dinner he’d shared with his task mistress charged back up, his stomach spasming violently.
The overlord laughed at his misery, striding to where Cormack had curled into the fetal position.
“Foolish Bred. Don’t you know your very name means designed? As far as you are concerned, I am God, the creator. And you would dare touch one of the Born, no matter how wretched she may be?”
“Kkk-kkiiiillll yooouuu.” Cormack stuttered through chattering teeth.
“Keep it up. Enough violent thoughts and your brain will aneurysm until it bursts. Then your darling task mistress will drag your corpse to the recycling chamber, saving us a walk to the draining tube.” The overlord smirked at him. “Don’t you understand?
Breds are meant to serve us.”
“Cormack, stop.” Allora crawled across the floor to reach him. “You must stop this or you will die.”
He tried focusing on nothing but her amethyst eyes, but all he could see were her tears, the livid mark that beast had left on her pale cheek. His instincts warred with his conditioning, as though his body waged a war on itself, both fronts equally convinced of being in the right.
Nothing would remain of the battleground.
The overlord kicked Allora away from where he suffered. “You have your orders, Task Mistress.
Follow them or you will hold him up during draining.”
“Ggggg…ggooo,” He managed to tell her as his shaking increased, teeth rattling together in painful connection. He would die for her because he refused to see her die for nothing.
Allora nodded once and scurried for the other room. Cormack’s sight wavered in and out but he kept his eyes on the overlord, hating every breath the man took. Here was evil, in a fine suit of cloth. He’d won the genetic lottery, being Born instead of created and somehow thought that power made him invincible.
The source of his power, controlling those he saw as beneath him.
It might have been minutes or hours but the agony lessoned, his muscles going lax. Allora returned, dressed in her boots and armor. She bent to pick up Cormack’s discarded clothing but the overlord stopped her. “He won’t need his thermals. We’ll give them to a worthier Bred, a new and improved model.”
Allora’s eyes went wide. “He’ll freeze to death in minutes with no gear.”
“Do as I say!” The overlord roared and stormed out. He felt her pulling on him, tugging him to his feet.
Her voice was so low he had to strain to make out her rushed vow. “We’ll figure something out.”
A calm lethargy descended over Cormack. “It was a nice dream, while it lasted.” Weak as a newborn babe, he rested all of his weight on Allora and focused on putting one foot in front of the other.
A sea of armored guards had been lined up in the hallway. “Bred whore.” One hissed and spat at her.
Cormack lunged for the man and was knocked down like a toddler just learning how to walk, his blasted conditioning flaring up. Allora wiped the saliva from her cheek and helped him up. A wave of sadness descended upon him. “So many dreams,” he whispered.
Allora shook him, her strength incredible. “Don’t you give up on me! Cormack, I will not watch you die.”
He smiled, nodding once not wanting to contradict her impassioned speech. “Maybe you will like being married.” Glancing down at the red curls escaping from her helmet he said, “I would have chosen you for my Only One.”
His foot caught on an uneven patch of grounds and he stumbled. She caught him around the waist to keep him from landing flat on his face. “Quit the maudlin goodbye routine and help me look for a way out of this. Fight, damn you. ”
How he wished he could fight, that adrenaline would surge through his body until he took on the Born army, stopping the atrocities that his people suffered once and for all. Freeing them, so they could scrape by on their own, without waiting for whatever handouts the Born saw fit to pass down.
The draining chamber was located deep within the tunnels. Torches were fewer and farther in-between here, as less eyes demanded less light. “This is the last fork,” Allora hissed, casting a look behind them. Cormack didn’t bother—he knew the Borns followed them down, eager for a show. They would watch the life be sucked out of him and then return to their gluttonous feasting.
The overlord stopped them at the opening to the draining chamber. “It seems as though there is a backup, many naughty Breds acting out today. I’m glad I came down here to bump you up the waiting list. There’s one who just started, so it’ll be an hour or so, depending on how much life is left in the shell.