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"We're going to find my sister," Jess said after a pause. "Her name is Calla, and she's a slave at Discovery Station. She's owned by a Pilgrim woman named Jenner. I can't leave her behind."

"I didn't know you had a sister," Bethany said. "I guess I don't really know all that much about you."

"No, you don't," he replied, giving her a gentle kiss on the top of her head. He pulled her tighter and his voice grew distant. "You know nothing about me at all."

Part III: The Journey

Chapter Eleven

Jess gazed through the ship's view-screen at the massive space station where he had lived for most of his life. Discovery Station. The name was so promising, implied so much hope for the future. In reality it was a cesspit. There was no promise here, just load after load of ore from the asteroid belt being processed into the raw materials for an empire. Or maybe a federation, Jess thought with wry humor. It hardly mattered who was in charge of the station. All he cared about was getting his sister and returning for Bragan.

They'd been forced to leave the doctor behind. He had removed the slave implants from most of the men successfully, but even with all his training, ten of the men had died. No one had been even close to being capable of removing Bragan's implant. The irony of the situation was hardly lost on Jess. When he and Bethany had set out for Discovery Station nearly two months before, he had promised Bragan that he would return with a doctor to rescue him. Jess had every intention of keeping that promise. He figured they would be able to shave about 20 days off their return trip if he could trade the ore freighter they were traveling in now for something smaller and faster. It seemed likely that they'd be able to. There was always a demand on Discovery for freighters. In addition, the ore they carried was worth a small fortune.

It should be more than enough to cover their needs.

The ship shuddered beneath him as he turned away from the viewing portal. They were docked at one of the ore processing centers while their cargo was unloaded. He'd already negotiated a decent price, although he hadn't been able to glean much information. The sale had been made long-distance.

The refining plant itself was completely automated. It would take them another 26 hours to unload all the cargo, and then he and Bethany would go to the main station. The thought of it made his stomach hurt.

If he wasn't very, very careful, she might be able to get away from him there.

He walked back toward the small cabin they had made their own for the past two months. She had already packed what few things they had into a small rucksack. Now she was in the fresher, cleaning up.

He could hear her singing a little song, her voice slightly out of tune. She was always singing like that.

He'd asked her once if they were Pilgrim songs, and she'd given an embarrassed laugh. She'd made them up all by herself. He'd found himself humming them off and on as time went by. Just one more thing about Bethany that fascinated him.

Another shudder shook the ship, filling Jess with a sense of desperation. The past two months had been like some kind of wonderful dream. They'd been living for the moment, some days not even bothering to get out of bed. Now it was all ending. He needed to be close to her.

Quickly, he pulled off his shirt and pants, kicking them to one side of the bed, then let himself into the fresher unit. There she was, standing in the sonic shower unit with both arms stretched above her body. Her eyes were closed as she relaxed in the gentle waves that cleaned her body. She was so beautiful, he thought. High, firm breasts. A softly curving back, each muscle clearly defined by years of hard work. His cock leapt to attention, and he stepped in with her. She gave a little startled gasp, then turned toward him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Without speaking, they kissed. His erection, trapped between them, throbbed with need. He could feel one of her legs rubbing up and down the backs of his, and then he reached down to cup her butt firmly. He lifted her body, bracing it against the shower wall. She wrapped both legs around his waist, and they writhed together, skin stimulating skin in a way that seemed almost electric.

It was perfect.

He rubbed his cock against her belly again, enjoying the slow torture of being so close without penetration. He wanted to dive into her body with his; at the same time, he also wanted to simply savor the moment, allowing himself to be close to her.

If she managed to escape, this could be the last time he held her like this. The thought was intolerable. He was filled with a sudden need to mark her, to claim her as his. He wanted her to know with every fiber of her being who she belonged to. She was his. He would die before he allowed another man to touch her.

He pulled back with his hips, then thrust forward into her. She gasped, clutching him tightly, and he thrust again.

"Jess," she moaned. Her voice was needy, almost painful with desire. He grunted, and pushed into her again. He could feel his cock bumping up against her cervix, feel her body shuddering in response.

He knew by now that nothing sent her over the edge faster than such deep, hard penetration. He would make her scream before he was done. The ship rocked again, and they bumped again the wall of the shower. As he slipped out of her, she laughed.

"Let's go into the bedroom," she whispered. "This could get dangerous."

He nodded, and stepped out of the shower while still supporting her body. He carried her into the bedroom and lowered her to the bed slowly, kissing her as he did. He followed her body down, but before he could come back into her, she pushed up, rolling him to one side.

"It's my turn," she said with a laugh. "You don't always have to be in charge, Jess."

"Yes, I do," he said, unwilling to joke. She scrambled away from him, sitting up on her knees and crossing her arms in front of her chest. Her face turned serious.

"You don't," she said quietly. "You can't expect me to be your prisoner forever, you know. Have you considered that maybe we need to form a partnership, here? If you can't trust me even a little bit, we're not going to get very far."

"I trust you," he said tightly. "Don't I sleep next to you every night? You could strangle me; you could do all kinds of things to me."

"I know," she said. "You trust me not to kill you. But you don't seem to be able to trust me to think for myself. Not even in bed. You never give up control, do you?"

"I've spent most of my life without control," he said. "I'm not going to go back to living that other way ever again. You can forget that."

"I don't want to control your life," she replied, shaking her head. "But I would like to share control of our relationship. I thought you didn't believe in slavery."

"I don't," he said in frustration. He hated it when she talked like this. She just didn't understand how important it was to him that they stay together. Just the thought of her leaving him was enough to make him sick. And he had no reason to believe she would stay of her own free will. If he were in her situation, he would try to escape.

The feeling that he was being a hypocrite washed over him for the hundredth time, but he ruthlessly pushed the feeling of guilt back. He had been through enough already. He wasn't going to give her up.

Not now, not ever.

She rolled off the bed, then reached over to pull on a dress.

"What are you doing?" he asked roughly.

"I'm getting dressed," she replied in a cool voice.

"What about finishing what we started in the fresher?" he asked, as a tight knot started growing in his chest.