He raised himself again, rubbing his hands against her back and digging his fingers into the muscles. He was careful to be gentle, working the flesh in a way that made her shudder in a new kind of sensual pleasure. Usually she gave him backrubs, he realized.
It had never occurred to him to return the favor. His hands moved lower and lower on her body, grasping the globes of her ass and squeezing them tightly.
She wiggled at him again, and he squeezed tighter. This time his fingers left marks, and she moaned.
“More,” she whispered.
Bemused, he slapped her. Her butt bucked up, and when he reached down to touch her slit again she was sopping. He slapped her harder, this time hard enough to leave a reddish mark.
She writhed harder, her ass bright red from his blows. His cock tightened painfully.
It was time take her.
He reached down around her waist and roughly pulled her up into position. She struggled a bit, but her knees came up to support her weight. He positioned himself at the opening between her legs and abruptly thrust in, hitting home with the first motion.
His cock was big, and it bumped against her cervix. She gasped and moaned, wiggling around as he impaled her. Normally he was careful to hold himself back, realizing that he was big enough to hurt a woman.
Karia liked it, though.
He slammed into her again, harder this time. He knew it had to hurt her, but she just pushed back at him, as if she wanted him to go into her body even harder. He reached down under her body and grasped one breast firmly, pinching it as he slammed down into her again. Her muscles spasmed around him and she arched back at him.
“More,” she muttered under her breath, her voice rough. “I want more.”
He slammed into her again and again, each time harder than the next. She pushed back at him, and he could feel her body growing tense. She was near her orgasm, and that was a good thing. He wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to hold out. Her vagina was like an exquisite, painfully tight glove encasing him, squeezing him, milking him so hard it hurt. He heard the blood roaring in his ears, felt his heart pounding in a staccato.
She bucked against him once more, and struck with inspiration, he pulled himself up and slapped her ass one more time. Hard. She squealed and came. Her entire body seized, gripping him as if in a vise, and he exploded into her. Again and again his body pumped into her. Finally, spent, he collapsed on top of her. She lay still for a while, and then started testing the ropes holding her hands.
“Are you going to let me up?” she asked in a sooty voice. “Or am I just going to lie here under you forever? I think I could stand that if I had to.”
He reached forward and loosened the ties. Normally he would dismiss her, but there was a sparkle in her eyes that intrigued him. He leaned in closer, as if to kiss her.
She struck swiftly, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. Once again, that new awareness came over him. It was as if he could feel again for the first time in ages.
“Do you like that?” she asked, her tone arch. “Because I do. I want to play with you in ways that redheaded girl couldn’t even begin to imagine.”
The image of Giselle in Jerred’s arms leapt into his head one more time. He didn’t want to think about them, about the bond they shared. Angrily, he leaned forward and took Karia’s mouth harshly, grinding her lips under his, pushing her down again on the bed. Her legs wrapped around his hips, pulling him against her body even as she dug her sharp nails into his ass. Pain seared through, sweet and cleansing.
“Do you think you’ll be ready for another round any time soon?” she asked in a whisper when he finally released her mouth.
He ground against her, feeling the beginnings of an erection. “Yes,” he replied softly.
“Good,” she said. “I want you long and hard, and this time I want it in the ass.”
He shuddered, taking her mouth once more. Jerred and Giselle were forgotten.
Giselle leaned against Jerred, enjoying the strong warmth of his body as she tried to think of some way to escape. She knew they were being watched, and almost certainly taped. She needed to find some way to let him know what was going on, but she didn’t want to tip her hand.
He wasn’t helping. All he had talked about since she arrived was how foolish she had been. She should have stayed with Josiah. She should have saved herself. She should have sold him out. Finally she’d told him not to talk to her at all.
Instead, he held her, softly nuzzling at her neck and causing all kinds of new problems. She knew all too well that anything they might indulge while in the cell was bound to amuse their watchers. As she felt his length grow against her leg, she almost decided she didn’t care. She wanted him, and every cell in her body sang out for her to mate with him. But she had a feeling Josiah would enjoy that a little too much, and she’d already provided him with far too much entertainment.
He made her think of those hideous insects that lived on Hector Prime. They wove a silky, sticky web, then hid themselves to one side and waited as other insects caught themselves in it. She had read somewhere that the creatures liked to eat their prey alive.
Definitely similar to Josiah, on so many levels.
She felt exhausted. Jerred stroked a finger through her hair slowly, and the sensation soothed her until she was dozing. She slipped into a dream, blessedly free from worries for the moment. She and Jerred were sitting in the middle of a field of green grass. A child sat near them, several children, in fact. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew they were Jerred’s nephews. A woman came walking up to them, carrying two tall, cool glasses filled with water. She looked like Jerred—same strong features, same black hair, although hers was streaked with gray, lending her an air of authority and dignity.
She knelt beside them gracefully, and turned to Giselle with a smile.
“I’m proud of you, child,” she said. “You’ve been taking very good care of him. But I think it’s time for the two of you to come home.”
Giselle nodded at her, agreeing. Unfortunately, she couldn’t remember how to get home. She opened her mouth, ready to ask the woman for directions, but one of the children called out. The woman’s face creased with concern, and she turned away.
Giselle tried to speak, but nothing came out. The woman stood and started walking away. Giselle wanted to get up after her, but Jerred’s head was heavy in her lap. She looked down at him and saw something dreadful.
He wasn’t sleeping—he was dead. Jerred was dead, and deep in her heart she knew it was her fault. She tried to move, tried to scream, tried to do anything, but she was frozen. The meadow faded around her, and then they were alone in space. She saw ice forming on Jerred’s face. He was freezing, and when she tried to wrap her arms around him to keep him warm, they cracked and shattered.
She came out of the dream abruptly, a stillborn scream stuck in her throat.
Jerred lay beside her sleeping peacefully. She could hear his heartbeat beneath her head. He was fine. They were both alive. The cell door slid open, and Jerred came awake with a start. The guard looked down at them sullenly.
“The Captain is ready to see you,” he muttered. “Stand up and turn around.” he added, nodding at Jerred.
Jerred did as he was told, and Giselle watched as they slid yet another set of cuffs around his wrists. She must not have seemed dangerous to them, because when they led him out into the hall, they allowed her to follow, unrestrained. She felt panicky.