“So tiny and delicate,” he mused in a low rumble. “I’m gonna use you hard… and you’re gonna love every moment of it. Aren’t you, mouse?”
“Oh god, yes!” she breathed.
His fingers tangled in the sides of her panties and in one yank, he tore them off of her.
“Better.” He kissed along the side of her neck as his hand slid down between her legs. She groaned as his fingers slipped in the wet heat. He found her clit and she arched up against him as he stroked. The clever little circles and touches sent pleasure through her in an unstoppable cascade.
“Oh god…” she murmured brokenly, shoving her hips back against him. That got her a rumble of approval and then his hand disappeared.
“Wait… what… no,” she gasped in disappointment. She’d been so close…
But then he pressed against her, hot and hard, and she quit thinking.
“Pinned,” he growled, capturing her wrists in one hand and hauling them up over her head, pinning them in place against the wall. “And fucked.”
With that he drove into her in one hot, hard thrust. She cried out in pleasure, the burning stretch almost making her come on the spot.
“Is this what you wanted, little mouse?” he demanded, each word punctuated by a hard thrust of his hips. His free hand returned to stroke her clit and she could tell she wasn’t going to last long. “To be pinned and fucked mercilessly.”
“Oh god… yes… yes!” she cried out, her climax ripping through her without warning. Ecstasy filled her, shattering through her like an explosion of epic proportions and leaving her helpless in its wake.
He sped up, slamming into her as he chased his own end, but the roughness only stretched her release out. Her pussy clenched hard around him when he thrust into her one last time, his roar of completion all but rattling the windows as his cock jerked and pulsed deep within her. For a moment she allowed the fantasy of his seed taking root, of a little boy with her dark curls and his blue eyes.
She gasped at the image and then again as he sagged against her, his lips against the curve of her neck and shoulder.
“Gods… that was amazing,” he rumbled, kissing her gently. “You’re amazing. Up for round two… in a bed this time?”
She closed her eyes on a shiver of pleasure as he pulled free with a wet pop.
“Oh god, yes please.”
13
“Are you sure this thing will work?”
Beauty slid a sideways look at the human lounging against the alley wall next to him. Although lounging was entirely the wrong word. Dr. Eric Archer looked stiff and uncomfortable, as though his only acquaintance with the word “lounge” was bypassing it in the dictionary en route to something like lymphocyte.
Beauty sighed. “Relax. You look like you’ve got a stick up your ass. We’re supposed to be gangers. Remember?”
“Yeah, like I could forget dressed like this. I’m going to get fleas from this thing,” Eric grimaced, rolling his shoulders in the tattered leather jacket.
They were both dressed in the same grubby coveralls with decorated leathers that marked them as members of one of the many gangs who controlled the undercity on Toloria. Vicious turf wars were common here as they fought for control of the streets, each gang looking to expand their territory through a combination of fear, intimidation, and outright violence.
Most gangers had little education, less refinement and preferred violence to debate—everything the good doctor was not. Why T’Raal had sent him down with Beauty, he had no idea. They couldn’t have been more different.
Beauty had no education to speak of. Everything he knew he’d taught himself, and violence was ingrained in his very DNA.
“Is it working?” Eric demanded, turning to face Beauty. “Come on. I need to know. This is my life on the line, you know.”
Beauty flicked a glance at the man’s features. They were not the ones he’d left the Sprite with. They weren’t drastically different, but the set of his eyes and nose had been subtly changed, as had the line of his mouth. “All you humans look ugly to me. But yeah… you look different.”
“Fuck you.” Eric growled, but the words sounded odd in his cultured accent. “It’ll hold. Won’t it?”
“For fuck’s sake, yes… the chameleon patch will hold. Zero designed them himself. I’m wearing one as well, and I don’t need to remind you what’ll happen if a Lathar is found operating in Terran space. Do I?” he hissed. “So, I’m more in danger than you are.”
“Well… yeah, I didn’t think about that.” Eric grumbled, leaning against the wall. In his sulk he nearly managed to pull off a lounge.
Beauty sighed and shook his head, going back to watch his target. What he’d told Eric was almost true. He was wearing a chameleon patch, a thinner than skin framework over his face that was designed to subtly alter his features so the Terran face recognition systems wouldn’t pick him up.
His wasn’t activated though. He wore it but never turned it on. He didn’t need to. Unlike the rest of the crew, he could alter his features at will. Small differences, like the face he wore today, were easy. Bigger changes took more. And if the rest of the crew found out… well, he’d be better off taking his chances with the Terrans.
At least they might not slaughter him on the spot.
His eyes narrowed as he watched activity across the other side of the square.
“Hey,” he murmured to get Eric’s attention. “We’re up. Stay on my six and don’t get hurt, or T’Raal will have my fucking hide.”
“This is… not something I am used to,” Red growled as she and Marika took a walk along the promenade over the city’s central gardens. It was the place to see and be seen in Sky-city society, especially during the day.
“Don’t panic,” Marika replied with a smile at a couple of other walkers as she leaned on the balustrade to look down at the gardens. They were beautiful and functional, providing the hydroponics for the entire city.
“It’s kind of like an uneasy truce between rival nations. You need to view them all as opposing forces unless you already know they are allies… but, at the same time, you can’t afford any hostile action that could escalate things into open warfare.”
“You mean make-nicey politics.” Her expression was bland and polite, but her tone dripped with venom. “A bit like the courts. They’re all assholes.”
“I guess?” Marika didn’t know much about the Edanian royals, but from what she’d heard, most aristocratic courts were pretty much the same—hotbeds of politics and intrigue. “Smile back, and don’t start a war. But watch your back.”
Red nodded, turning to lean her elbows back against the balustrade, and smiled at a couple of men as they passed. They looked at her and sped up, disappearing around the next column.
“Not like that!” Marika giggled, catching the other woman around the arm and hauling her along as they continued along their walk. It was like trying to pull a cliff along with her. Red was utterly solid. Fortunately, she let Marika drag her along, even chuckling a little.