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Tari wrung her hands at the hiss of pain which passed from Galen “Bane” Maxwell’s lips. Gingerly she reached for the cloth, removed it, and dipped it back in the cool water before wringing it out and repeating the process all over again. Each time she placed the cotton rag on his skin his slender body shook with pain but aside from the sharp gasp, he never cried out.
Nausea reared its head inside her gut. How could a mother do this to her child? She’d known his mother despised him but never in her wildest dreams did she think it was this bad.
Licking her lips, she removed the cooled square and placed it back in the bowl of water at her side. She stared down at the back of his neck, eyes narrowing in rage. His skin was puckered and an ugly red where the brand sat, at the top of his neck right where the skull attached to the spinal cord. It resembled an arrow which pointed up.
“Why?” she asked in a soft voice so they wouldn’t be discovered.
It was the lunch hour and they were hiding, she’d dumped her salad onto a plate and filled her bowl with cold water. Then she swiped a clean rag from the art supplies and took everything back to where Galen lay hidden in the art room.
“She said it was the rune of death, a Tac, and I deserved to wear it since I am nothing but evil seed who will bring death to anyone who gets close. I should be purged from the face of the earth.”
Her stomach tightened once more as he recited the words his mother raged at him all the time. Although he tried to keep the pain from leeching into his tone, she heard it. Also, she heard the voice of a man, not a thirteen year old boy, but a man who had seen too much and experienced more than his share.
“You’re not evil, Bane,” she said applying the cloth again. “Your mother is the evil one. I wish you would let me tell someone.”
“No!” He began to rise only to settle at the slight touch of her fingertips along his back.
“Okay.” A deep breath. “Okay. You know you can trust me. I haven’t told anything the entire time we’ve been friends.” A bit over a year. She removed the cloth and placed it back in the bowl.
“I only trust you, Tari,” he said forcefully.
She sometimes wondered if that weren’t totally true. “You know you can come home with me, my parents would—”
“No, Tari. That...that can’t ever happen.” He did sit up this time.
His quicksilver eyes implored her. She sighed feeling somehow so much older than her eleven years. “Okay,” she said not wanting him to find another reason to be upset. Tari knew the score, his mother was a drug addict and whore. Why she hated her own son, Tari had no clue but that’s how it was. “Lie back down.”
He stared at her before shaking his head, his black hair, stringy and in desperate need of a cut shook around him. Bane was small, smaller than most guys his age and being undernourished didn’t help anything. He looked like a boy stuck in the awkward stage of life and since she met him, she had only seen him like this. Like time abandoned him there.
She’d begun bringing more food so she could give him some. Their friendship had been rocky to say the least at the start but now, she could honestly say now they were good friends. They kept to themselves and out of the way of the others who loved to pick on them.
“We should move to the front and look like we’re studying.”
Ducking her head so her expression stayed concealed and he wouldn’t see her frustration or concern, she merely got up, walked to the door, peeked out, and headed to the bathroom to dispose of the water. Back in the art room, she and Bane sat where they usually did when they studied and got to work.
“I’m going to be like my nickname says,” he muttered as they poured over their algebra.
“What?”
“Bane. I’m tired of being pushed around and hurt.”
The chill in his voice scared her as did the glint of determination in his eyes, hardening the silver to steel. Deep down she wanted to comfort him but she refrained. He didn’t want pity, he wanted to be stronger.
“Just as long as you finish school,” she said mimicking the phrase her parents always told her. If only he would let me tell them about him. She knew her parents would take him in. But he refused to let her say anything.
“I will.” He flashed a smile, which belied the harshness of his everyday life.
Sniffing with false indignation, she turned her attention back to the problem before her. “Get to work, Bane.”
His hand landed on her forearm bringing her gaze back to him. “You know, Tari, you’re not so bad...for a girl.”
“Ha, ha. Very funny.” She stared at the paleness of his skin upon her arm. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, felt him remove his hand, and opened them to focus on the math problem. It didn’t work. She passed the time wondering what he would be like when he grew up. How would he kiss? How would it feel to be held by him?
“Tari,” his voice thrummed through her, deeper than she remembered. It pulled and coaxed her from the dreamworld she’d been in.
Rubbing a hand over her eyes, she opened them and promptly lost her breath. She’d been dreaming about them but now she lay face to face with the most definitely grownup version of Galen “Bane” Maxwell.
He watched her with molten eyes, the morning light poured into the room, making his skin all the more golden.
“Yeah?” she muttered, beginning to slide off him, amazed and a bit embarrassed she’d spent the entire night sleeping on him. All that hardness beneath me and I slept like a baby.
He stopped her retreat and brought her back up to where she had been. Galen had this sleepy hooded sensual appearance to him. Growth on his face gave him ruggedness and all she could imagine was how it would be like rubbing along her skin. In different places.
The silence between them stretched, air stilled, and their breathing the only major sound in the small room. His hands tightened where they rested upon her waist before he inched them down in a slow, agonizing motion to her hips. Around them, the room sizzled with increased sexual awareness.
She grew wet sitting there, her legs straddling Galen. Her core throbbed with need. In the depths of his gaze, she saw her own desire mirrored. She shifted slightly. His fingers flexed and his eyes darkened with insatiable hunger.
With her good hand, she reached out and drew a finger down the bridge of his nose and along his lips. The nip he placed on her fingertip sent a shockwave of lust straight through to the deepest part of her. Galen wasn’t done.
He swirled his tongue around her digit then sucked it in his mouth. She whimpered and struggled not to writhe on his lap as erotic cravings pelted her. Her belly clenched with each passing second he suckled her finger. As if there were a cord from her fingertip to her wetness, she experienced each suck, swirl, and graze of teeth. Twice.
His eyes never released her and she fell prey to the hypnotic sensuality he oozed. The brush of one hand over her breasts released a moan, part surprise, part pleasure. He massaged the flesh and teased the nipple to a turgid point.
Goosebumps exploded along her skin as she struggled not to drop her head back. His second hand moved under her shirt, slid between her spread thighs, and cupped her through the plain cotton panties she wore. A throaty moan slipped past her lips and this time her head fell back. He began to rub and pleasure erupted throughout her as an unexpected orgasm swept over her.
Galen continued to stimulate her with one hand while he moved between her breasts with the other. He was hard beneath her. And she wanted him inside her.
Dampening her lips, she swallowed and said, “Please.”
His eyes burned, almost eerily, as he repositioned his hands to her waist. Galen lifted her and settled her back upon the narrow bed. She kept vigil as he removed first his boots and socks then thigh holsters before stripping off his shirt.
She lost her breath. Oh my God! Galen was a work of art, sculpted golden marble. With breathiness, she allowed her gaze to linger on his bared throat and chest. Her fingers dug into her palm so hard she figured there would be four crescent moon marks when she finally relaxed.
Galen had broad, strong shoulders, a torso full of rippled muscles as well as scars. Scars she longed to touch and ask him where he got them. He was covered in luscious golden tan and a smattering of black chest hair which trailed down in a thin line beneath the waist of his black cargo pants. Pants which hung on lean hips.
She rose to touch him, appease her own craving to feel those coiled muscles beneath her fingertips. He must have recognized the look for he gave a sharp shake of his head.
“Stay there, Tari. If you touch me, it’ll be over before it begins.”
Hiding a satisfied catlike grin, she sat back. It thrilled and excited her to know he hovered on the edge of his control. He removed pants next followed by his boxers.
Did I say oh my God?
She swallowed hard. Hell, he was hard. All over. His thick cock rose up to rest along his abdomen and she could hardly take her eyes off it. Another flood of wetness hit her at the mere thought of his thickness sliding between her thighs and filling her. Stretching her. Completing her.
With restrained movements, he stopped before her, his stiff length right in front of her eyes. The tip of his shaft held beaded moisture and she wanted to taste it. Taste him. His hand intercepted hers before she could grasp him. Before she could blink he’d taken her place on the bed, she stood where he had and his hands removed her panties in a sure deft move.
His touch electric, she shivered with each pass of his calloused skin upon hers.
Again, he dragged two fingers through the apex of her thighs, circling the stiff nub there. Stars exploded as again he brought her swiftly to another orgasm.
“So wet,” he rumbled with approval, maneuvering her to a wider stance and sliding one finger inside her. “Hot. Tight. So tight.”
She couldn’t speak. Her knees quavered and she almost collapsed. Galen withdrew his touch, licked her essence from his fingers, and growled low. His cock jumped. Holding her gaze, he wrapped strong fingers around his shaft and slowly pumped up and down.
“Ride me, Tari.” He rasped the words, they dragged along her skin. Dangerous and decadent at the same time.
Lower lip in her teeth, she anchored herself with one hand on his shoulder and rose up. She gasped when he ran the head of his length along her slit. It prodded her and she sank down eyes fluttering at the pure pleasure a washing her. Galen spread her wide, his shaft thicker and longer than the others she’d been with.
Not that there were a lot to compare to for her extensive experience was limited to two men. Galen still beat them both. Sensations she’d not been aware of surfaced. Lord have mercy she’d never felt so full in her life.
“Ohhh!” she exclaimed as she held still and enjoyed the sensation of him being buried to the hilt in her.
His face drawn tight, chest heaved with each struggled breath he fought for.
“Tari,” he groaned, fingers bunching the material at her sides. “I never...you’re so...move sweetheart. Please move.”
It was obvious he fought for control. Slipping her hand to the back of his neck, she made sure to touch the brand on his skin. Then she moved.
Her nerves were on overload as she lifted and sank on his rod-like staff. Slow at first she moved up and down until she discovered the rhythm she wanted.
Galen’s brow beaded with sweat as she rode him. No words traded between them. There was no need. Their eyes had locked at the slow erotic dance of love they shared. She couldn’t find the words anyway.
Pleasure ruled them both wiping away everything but the two of them. No memories of the horrors she’d gone through with the pirates. No ship in the Gulf of Aden. No childhood atrocities. Nothing but him and her.
Up and down, she moved finally succumbing to the intensity her firing nerves gave her. His grip tightened.
“Look at me, Tari.”
Her lids were heavy and it took a lot to lift them. His eyes blazed with possessiveness and raw need. Her hand fell to his chest and she longed to use both on him.
“You feel so good around me. So tight. So—”
She came hard and his mouth snapped shut. Clamping down on him causing those eyes to flare with more hunger. His grip tightened again before releasing.
“Galen,” she whispered as one finger began rubbing her clit, sending her right back to the edge she’d just fallen from. Her eyes closed again.
“A thing of beauty, when you come,” he said continuing to stimulate her.
Her muscles clenched and she felt right on the point of the ledge, desperate for relief. But he held back. And she wanted all of him. Forcing her heavy lids up again, she stared at him.
“Stop holding back,” she growled, rolling her hips.
His jaw clenched and she leaned closer, pressing harder onto him and kissed him. Thrusting her tongue deep into his mouth. His answering rumble made her almost smile. In the next second, he began pumping up into her. No more letting her set the pace.
With a cry, she relinquished all control over. Galen took. She gave and gave. This time they crested together. Her scream of pleasure absorbed by his mouth. He broke the kiss and carefully repositioned them so she was on the bottom.
“Your shoulder okay?” he asked, his voice a deeper resonance than normal.
Sated beyond all measure she merely she nodded. She’d had no idea being with a man could feel like this.
His grin more wicked than anything. “Good.” He flexed his hips reminding her he was still blissfully hard. “My turn.”
