Tren cursed the time it took to get his ship back online and discard the repair bubble. He used those wasted moments to imagine how he’d torture the three armed bastard who’d dared move so brazenly against him.
Of course, he had only his distraction for one female to blame for getting caught off guard. Then again, if the cowards had come for him, he’d have taken care of the problem, distraction or not, but they’d instead dared to go after Megan. Just the thought of her in someone else’s grasp made his anger burn hotter than a star gone super nova.
Locating them proved easy once he got on his way. Megan’s translator also contained a tracking device, an expensive upgrade he’d acquired for a project he’d ended up passing on a while back. His ship followed the blip of her signal while he armed himself and prepared to unleash a miniature war.
Nobody frukxed with him and lived to tell the tale.
When he got within radar range, he engaged the cloaking device. Another expensive toy, but wealth stopped being a barrier a long time ago. His larger craft shadowed the vessel holding Megan. He made his way to the lowest deck, not the section where the dead-aliens-walking entered, but another smaller section especially built for space embarkations. Fingers flying on the console, he engaged his boarding mechanism which lowered a metal tube. It connected to the other vessel’s surface with only the slightest thud.
Tren braced his feet over the hatch as it hissed open and dropped through as soon as it was clear. He hit the surface of the other vessel and went to work with a laser cutting through the metal. As soon as the piece dropped, providing him entry, he followed, his knives pulled. In space, only the insane used guns which could punch holes into vital areas. Usually, he was that crazy person, but he needed to ensure Megan’s safety before he let loose.
The storage room he entered while loaded with stolen goods did not contain anything for him to kill. A shame.
A scan of the ship by his own computer showed only six life forms on board—Megan plus five idiots. A paltry amount. The first two he found in the bridge, oblivious to the vessel anchored above them. They only managed to turn halfway to greet him when he slit their throats before they could raise an alarm. Wiping his blades on their carcasses, he moved quickly to search room by room. The crewman exiting from a stateroom managed a squeal before Tren thrust his dagger into him and dragged it up, eviscerating him.
Cold rage drove him as he methodically hunted the remaining two. He located the fourth miscreant standing outside an open doorway, watching something eagerly. Tren could hear a voice muttering and the fleshy smacks of someone getting beaten. Tren ran at the inattentive guard and thrust both daggers into its back, using them to lift and move the gurgling thug out of his way.
Tren stood framed in the doorway, and his fury coalesced from angry red, to an icy white. The three armed mechanic, who should have known better than to frukx with him, slugged Megan, who hung bruised and bloody from a set of manacles.
He caught the soon-to-be-dead alien midsentence. “…like that, you smug bastard?”
“You’re nuts,” she muttered. “Tren doesn’t care for me.” Her words struck him like a blow.
“Liar,” spat the alien. “He’s never been seen with a woman outside of a brothel before. You must mean something, and I am going to ruin you for him. Sully you and then throw it in his face. And he won’t be able to do a thing about it.”
“That’s what you think,” Tren growled, more angry than he recalled ever being. He didn’t need his knives for this, so he sheathed them as he flowed into the room, vengeance personified.
The mechanic snarled as he drew a knife of his own and lunged at him. Tren didn’t move. He caught the flailing wrist, and the second which came out of nowhere with another blade. He yanked and twisted the appendages as the third hand came thrusting at him—and missed. The crack and snap as bone broke preceded the wailing scream of the alien. But Tren wasn’t done. He grabbed the third arm and snapped it, too.
The idiot, who’d thought to best him, collapsed screaming. The noise irritated Tren, so he kicked it in the head, knocking it unconscious.
Then he turned to face his human.
Megan, even with all her injuries retained enough wits to gape at him. “You actually came for me?”
He shrugged. “Did I mention I hate pirates?”
She laughed, a sound tinged with pained hysteria. “You’re insane.”
“Probably. But I wouldn’t talk if I were you. What did I tell you about trouble?” He spoke to her gently, trying to keep her attention on him as he used his knives to pry open the manacles. The left one popped open and he went to work on the other.
“I know. I just keep making that profit margin of yours smaller and smaller.”
“If this keeps up, I might have to keep you for a while until you work off some of your debt.”
The restraint snapped off and she collapsed against him. He caught her with one arm, hugging her tight to him, his rage burning anew at her weakness and injury.
“I’m sorry, I’m such a pain in the ass,” she whispered against his chest. “You should have left me to die.”
“Never,” he almost yelled, the very thought of her death chilling him through and through. But she never heard his reply as she slipped into unconsciousness.
A myriad of feelings swirled in him. He wanted to wake her up and shake her for allowing herself to succumb to despair. He wanted to crush her tight to him and keep her forever safe. He wanted to kiss her until she smiled. He wanted to weep with relief that he’d found her.
I’ve truly lost my mind and he was no longer sure he cared, a situation he’d examine later. Right now, Megan needed tending.
He swung her up into his arms, and headed back out into the main hall. Reaching his created entrance, he held onto her with one arm as he used his other to grasp a hanging harness that his ship dropped at his command. The crank, holding the suspended cable, hoisted him and his precious burden up. He wouldn’t—couldn’t—let her go as he tapped in the commands to separate his vessel from the now vacant one. The hatch closed with a metallic click and Tren heard the sound of the metal tube retracting. He didn’t bother calling up a view screen to watch the fireworks when he ordered his computer to fire on the other vessel as soon as they were at a safe range.
More important matters called to him, such as getting Megan to the medical unit as quickly as possible. He laid her on the table with care, stripping her bloodied garments, a strange moisture in his eyes as he visually catalogued her external hurts. A low moan emerged from him when he read the list of internal injuries she’d suffered because he’d failed her in the first place. In that moment, he vowed to never let her down again. To never allow another to hurt her.
And I’m never letting you go.
* * * *
Megan’s eyes fluttered open and, worried about what she saw, she shut them quickly.
Oh no, I died.
She tried to calm her breathing, which quickened as she took stock of her situation. The last thing she remembered was collapsing in Tren’s arms as he rescued her, the screaming pain of her body making her faint. That agony seemed gone, which given Tren’s alien technology seemed possible. But the soft surface she found herself on, a fluffy cloud for sure, and the frescoed ceiling above her certainly didn’t resemble either his ship or anything else she’d ever encountered in her life.
Hence, she must have died and gone to some alien heaven.
That sucked. I’ll miss my damned pirate.
A tear leaked from the corner of her eye…and was wiped by a calloused finger.
Her eyes flew open and she let out a watery laugh as a familiar purple visage came into view. “I’m not dead,” she exclaimed.
“Of course not,” he retorted.
She grinned at his matter of fact statement. “Well, excuse me for doubting you. The last thing I remembered was passing out.”
“A weak female constitution is no excuse for doubting my abilities.”
Megan snorted. “I’d like to see you act so tough if you were tied up and beaten.”
“Is this another one of your round about ways of asking for kinky sex?” He leered at her and Megan laughed.
It felt good to be alive.
“So how long was I out? And where are we?” she asked, sitting up and only realizing as the sheet pooled around her waist, she wore not a stitch of clothing.
To his credit—or not—he didn’t let his gaze stray to her exposed breasts. “Your injuries required several galactic cycles to mend. As to our location, I’ve brought us to a secure location so that I can have repairs done to the ship.”
“Oops, another delay on my path to auction,” she joked, although her heart wasn’t truly into it. The thought of being sold didn’t irritate her, frighten her yes, but the ache came more from the knowledge that her eventual sale meant she wouldn’t enjoy Tren’s company—or body—any longer.
“Never fear, you’ll get what’s coming to you,” he announced cryptically dropping a light kiss on her lips. “Now, are you hungry?”
Megan nodded and watched him saunter out of the room with a spring in his step. She wondered what made him so freaking happy. The knowledge that as soon as the ship got repaired, he could finally get rid of her bothersome ass?
Megan scowled. Stupid, rotten jerk. He doesn’t give a damn that soon I’ll belong to someone else. The realization crushed her. It also destroyed her last wall of denial and forced her to examine the truth of her feelings for him.
Ah, shit. I love him.
How and when had it happened? She didn’t like him. He intended to sell her, and yet he roused a passion in her body like no other. He intentionally goaded her until she attacked him, but at the same time he stimulated her mind and put up with her attitude. Hell, he encouraged it. And she’d fallen hard for him; a useless emotion that now guaranteed he’d break her heart because she didn’t suffer under the delusion he felt the same way. Why would he when he could have his pick of women, well, alien females anyways? Why would he want her argumentative barbaric ass when he could hook up with a docile, dainty bitch?
Megan growled as she thrust the sheets back and swung her legs out of the bed. Standing, she stretched, naked and uncaring. In a mood, she stalked to a brightly lit opening covered with filmy curtains. She stepped through and saw paradise, or something closely resembling it.
Two suns shone in the sky, one much fatter than the other. They made the rolling waves of a large body of water, a sea of the deepest teals, dance and glint with light. Moist, warm air caressed her bare skin. The balcony leaned out over a stone cliff of black rock, but when she looked to the side, she saw a beach stretching in the distance, its white sand sparkling.
She didn’t hear Tren join her, but felt him at her back, his body brushing up against hers. His arms laced around her torso loosely as he rested his chin on her head.
“How do you like the view?” He asked the question with a lazy casualness she didn’t trust.
“It’s nice.”
“Only nice?” He spun her in his arms and she peered up at him to see him frowning slightly. “This location is not to your liking? Do you not like warm weather and living along the beach?”
“I love tropical climates. And the place appears gorgeous, but there’s not much point in getting too attached.” She shrugged. “I mean, this is temporary right?”
“What if it weren’t? Would you mind living long term in a location such as this?” His gaze bored into hers intently.
She scrunched her nose up at his questions. “What’s with the twenty questions?”
“Just curiosity. For the auction, of course. Your new owner will want to know.” His lips curved into a smile when he said this and mirth danced in his eyes.
“You’re a jerk,” she replied with none of her usual heat. His words depressed her instead of riling her like they usually did.
“I know. Now get your buttocks inside and eat something so I can show you around.”
She wanted to ask why he bothered, but he’d already gone through the curtains. Casting a look out over paradise, she could admit—at least to herself—that if she could have a say in her future, she wouldn’t mind a place like this.
Megan went back into the room and saw Tren already lounging on the bed, eating off a laden tray. Hunger of a different sort filled her and she undulated her hips as she crossed the room toward him. His eyes lit with a glow she recognized, but he didn’t move to act upon it. Annoyed, Megan sat cross legged on the bed to eat, still naked and displaying her pussy, not that he paid her any mind.
She didn’t say much as she chewed and watched him as he explained that other than the staff, they were alone, the guards for his compound housed in a barracks area a short distance away. However, as he continued to elucidate, it didn’t mean she shouldn’t exercise caution. Megan listened to him and wondered why he bothered with such a long speech extolling the place’s virtues. Weren’t they leaving as soon as the ship got fixed?
Not that she was that eager to depart. Truthfully, whether she separated from him today or tomorrow, with her heart invested, it would hurt no matter what. So she had a choice: mope about something she couldn’t change, or enjoy herself while she could.
She’d always hated whiny bitches and refused to turn into one. Once she finished eating, she set the tray aside and crooked a finger at him.
Tren stopped midsentence and a lusty expression came over his face. “Are you sure? You just woke from a healing sleep. Perhaps you’d like some more fresh air or—”
She sighed. “For a pirate, you’re really sucking at the plundering aspect. I mean, what’s a captive got to do to get ravaged around here?”
She squealed as he pounced on her, a sound cut short by his lips covering hers in a scorching embrace that stole her breath.
Unlike some of their previous frantic couplings, he took his time with her, caressing her with a gentleness that made her gasp. He explored her mouth thoroughly, his tongue meshing wetly with hers. Megan clung to him tightly, her arms wrapped around his neck, enjoying the feel of his heavier body on hers. He left off her mouth and moved to her neck, licking and nipping at her soft skin. The sharp edge of his teeth scraping at her flesh made her tremble.
“I missed you while you rested in your healing sleep,” he whispered as he kissed his way down between her breasts.
“What? You did?” She raised her head to peer down at him incredulously. He gazed back at her, his mien completely serious.
“I did. It’s probably a sign of impending mental illness, but I am quite happy you’ve woken.” His lips curved into a crooked smile.
Megan couldn’t help her lips from curling into a soft smile of pleasure. “I’m glad you came for me.”
“Never doubt me,” he growled, his eyes turning dark. He clenched her nipple with his teeth and bit down.
Megan gasped, her body arching under his as his gentle bite sent a jolt straight to her pussy. A chuckle vibrated against her breast before he swirled his tongue around her throbbing tip. Sucking it into his mouth, he sent a never ending stream of electric zings down to her already damp cleft. He switched breasts, paying equal torturous attention to the other.
When he stopped, she mewled in loss, but he seemed determined to torture her. He moved down her body slowly, his lips caressing her skin softly, driving her crazy with need. He nuzzled the apex of her thighs and she parted them, her chest heaving as she fought to capture her breath. She lost it in a whoosh as his tongue jabbed at her damp core. Her fingers found his hair and hung on tight as he ate her, his tongue and mouth alternating between nibbling and flicking her clit then delving into her sex. He inserted two fingers into her channel, pumping her with his digits as his tongue skimmed over her sensitive nub. Her pelvic muscles clenched his fingers tight, her hips rocking in cadence to his thrusts.
When he bit her swollen clit gently with the sharp points of his teeth, she bowed off the bed with a scream. He pushed her back down and anchored her with his hands, and did it again, applying even more pressure. Her climax crested and crashed with an intensity that made her lose her mind. He grunted with satisfaction as he moved up to cover her body. She shoved at him.
“Get on your back,” she ordered. A sensual grin crossed his face as he obeyed, but only to a certain point. As she went to straddle him to return the pleasure, he caught her and flipped her so that her pussy rested above his face. Quivers rocked her pussy as she realized his intention. Sixty nine was such a lovely number.
His cock, a darker purple than the rest of him strained from his bare groin, the lack of balls on the outside making it appear even larger. She grasped him at the root, enjoying the way he pulsed in her palm. She laved the pink tip with her tongue, tasting the sweetness of his arousal. She drew him into her mouth with decadent languor. She loved to tease him, to feel her big brash pirate tremble at her touch. To hear him groan as she sucked his dick, grazing her teeth along its length. But he didn’t let her oral torture go unanswered. His hands drew her sex down so that he could probe her with his tongue. Already sensitive from her climax, she quaked and would have moved from the intensity of his touch, but he held her firm, made her a prisoner to his tongue and mouth, rebuilding her bliss.
She tried to ignore what he did to her pussy by bobbing her head up and down the length of him, taking him deep enough to make her throat convulse, then out again. He grew in her mouth, his cockhead widening, a signal she’d learned announced his impending climax. Yet again, though, he thought to control their lovemaking. He manhandled her until she faced him again, her throbbing pussy straddling his waist.
Megan smiled at him, lifting herself so that her sex hovered just over the tip of him. His blue eyes flashed with passion. Out shot his hands to grab her around the waist and push her down, ramming his cock up into her. She cried out at the suddenly full sensation, her back arching. She didn’t move for a moment, holding him inside of her, enjoying the pulsing strength of him buried in her most intimate part. Leaning forward, she braced her hands on his chest while her hair swung forth to create a private curtain where only she and Tren existed.
Rotating her hips, she ground herself against him, circling and pushing against him in a swirling motion that put direct pressure on her clit and made her moan. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of her hips, his enjoyment spurring her to move harder, faster. He stared at her as they undulated in rhythm, the only sound the harsh pants of their quickening breath and the soft, wets sound of their joining. She couldn’t tear her eyes from his. The intensity in them caught her more firmly than his tractor beam ever had, and she wondered at the change in them. The change in him.
A part of her realized that since her waking, his attitude towards her had shifted. If she didn’t know any better, she’d say he cared for her and no longer hid it. Foolish, hopeful thinking on her part probably, but she couldn’t help fantasizing as she leaned down to kiss his lips, bestowing upon him a tender embrace full of the longing and love she felt for him.
As if sensing her fragile emotions, he kept his response just as light and sensual, slowing their pace into a tantalizing tease. A tear at his gentleness, escaped and rolled down her cheek. He must have felt it because he stopped all motion.
“Why do you cry?”
“Am not,” she retorted, her lie soft and unconvincing.
In a swift motion, he rolled so she lay beneath him. “Open your eyes,” he ordered.
She clamped them tight. “No.”
“Please.”
How could she ignore his plea? She blew out a heavy breathe, her throat tight, and opened lids, damp with moisture. His thumb brushed at one eye, smearing the brimming tears.
A spasm crossed his face. “Do you hurt?”
She shook her head. Another lie, she hurt, just not physically like he assumed.
“You are sad?”
She thought about fibbing, but didn’t. “A little. Don’t worry. I’ll get over it.”
“Why are you sad?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I miss home.”
His eyes darkened and his face tightened. “This is now your home.”
“Only until you sell me,” she snapped back, anger an easier emotion to feel than sorrow.
“And if I were to keep you?” He threw that out there, a word bomb that stole her voice. His brow furrowed. “Why do you not answer? Is the idea so abhorrent?”
He didn’t wait for her answer. He kissed her fiercely, possessively. His cock, still buried inside her, began to pump, in and out, quickly thickening and butting against her sensitive inner walls. She clung to him, matching him kiss for kiss, thrust for thrust. She didn’t dare speak. Didn’t dare hope he meant his words. But she could show him.
They rode the wave to their pleasure together, flesh slapping, breaths tangled, their erotic energy building. He tore his lips from hers as they reached the crest, his eyes blazing with passion.
“You are mine,” he growled. With that startling, possessive announcement, he buried his face into the crook of her neck—and bit her.
Megan screamed, not from the pain of him breaking her skin with his sharp teeth, but from the crushing pleasure of her orgasm. Ecstasy rolled over her in a tidal rush, sweeping her up and shaking her with bliss.
And it wouldn’t end.
With each suck of her neck, and the blood that surely flowed, the crest of her climax rose higher, and higher. When she thought she would pass out from the potency of it, she discovered paradise. Somehow, Tren touched her soul, a feat, she’d never imagined, but how else to explain it. She floated out of her body, which would have been really scary, except Tren found her in that vast, lonely limbo. His own spirit wrapped around hers, twined with it, meshing himself in a permanent way that brought with it a sense of completion. Rightness.
Like I’ve come home.