She smiled again, and nodded her head.
“Yes, I guess I can feel that,” she replied, wiggling her hips. “I’m impressed. Most men can’t keep it in their pants this long.”
He gave her a rueful grin, and then shook his head. “Stop trying to distract me. What do you think I should do with you? I suppose you have the lock keyed to your fingerprint?”
“Well, of course,” she said. “I wouldn’t want you just walking out of here. I picked this place very carefully.”
“How did you know I’d end up here?”
“Now that’s for me to know,” she said softly, licking her lips, seeming to enjoy the taste of his blood. “I wouldn’t want to give away all my secrets. It’s the mystery that makes a lady so interesting, you know.”
His breath caught as she wiggled her hips at him again. Lust washed through him, ripping at his gut. He suddenly lost interest in their word play. He thrust his hips at her once more, and then transferred both of her hands to one of his. Then his lifted his body, reaching down between them to open his leathers. He had to get inside her before he died.
She took advantage of the moment, slamming her head up and butting him with it.
Taking him totally off guard, his grip softened for one second. It was all she needed. She pushed him to one side and leapt to her feet. In an instant she reached the door, keying the lock open and darting down the corridor.
Chapter Three
Cybele ran down the hallway, glad she’d taken the time to scope out potential escape routes. Her breath came hard. He’d offered her far more fight than she’d anticipated, and for the first time she questioned whether or not she’d really be able to accomplish her mission.
This was no easy mark. He wasn’t ordinary in any way. She could still feel the bulb of his cock pushing against her, desperately seeking entrance to her body. A part of her wished he’d been able to find it. She should have been focusing on her escape, calculating the best way to get away, to disappear into the warrens of the spaceport.
Instead she kept imagining that hot, hard shaft sinking into her body.
He would stretch her open, pushing her almost to the point of pain before he hit bottom. Each little movement would pull at the sensitive walls of her cunt, scraping as she produced more and more moisture to accommodate him. Then he would thrust into her, pinning her beneath his body and fucking her until she screamed. She gasped, feeling herself flush. Just thinking about it was enough to bring her close to the edge.
She burst out the club’s back door, pushing her way through a group of startled dancers. She ran several meters down the busy corridor before noticing she was still naked except for the string between her legs.
She needed clothing, fast, or she’d start a riot.
She ran down the corridor, looking desperately for some kind of cover. She heard shrieks behind her, and knew he must be on her heels. She grinned against her will.
How long had it been since she’d faced a true challenge?
She saw an opening up ahead. There was another strip club, this one advertised by holos of naked women dancing and enticing the customers in the corridor. Perfect cover for a naked woman on the run… She ducked into the club. The bouncer, trained to stop men, not naked women, ignored her as she ducked toward the back. She heard a scuffle at the door as Damian tried to follow her. They would want to scan him and get a cover charge before they let him in. It was perfect.
She slowed her pace, moving through the club as if she had all the time in the world.
Nothing would make her stand out more than hurrying. She felt several men’s fingers clutch at her as she strolled past their tables, but she shook them off quickly.
She grabbed a waitress and asked her where the dressing rooms were.
The woman nodded toward the back of the stage, and Cybele made her way past yet another bouncer into the dancer’s rooms. He didn’t even notice she’d never been there before, thank the Goddess. Apparently he didn’t bother to learn the dancers’ faces. She strode into the dressing room, pulling open a locker at the far end. Another woman gave her a strange look, and Cybele snarled, “Don’t fuck with me, little girl.”
She gave a squawk and ran out of the room.
Cybele ignored her. Fortunately, she’d found a locker belonging to someone practical. She wore a serviceable and somewhat plain pair of pants and a tunic when she wasn’t dancing for money. Cybele pulled them on, then threw a shawl over her shoulders and made for the exit. She was almost out the club’s back door when she heard him crashing though the dressing room. She would have made a clean escape if the bitch she’d seen before hadn’t betrayed her.
“She went that way. She threatened me!” she heard the woman shout in the distance, and the she took off running again.
He was right behind her, and while she wasn’t attracting the same kind of attention now that she wore clothing, there seemed to be no shaking him. Faster and faster she ran, ducking through corridors and pushing people out of her way. Sooner or later he was going to corner her if she didn’t think of something.
It happened sooner.
One minute she had turned down a small, darkened corridor and the next he hit her like a fully loaded freighter, slamming her to the ground and knocking the breath out of her lungs. Gasping for breath, she tried to crawl away from him on her belly. He pinned her, his long arms reaching around to grip her wrists, holding her tight as she struggled in silence. Screaming wouldn’t accomplish anything, she knew that already. If the station guards learned she was an assassin, she’d rot in their nasty little hellhole of a jail. No way.
His hips thrust against her, rubbing the swell of his erection against her ass. She stilled, wondering if she could use that to her advantage. He prodded her once more, prompting a rush of heat in her own body. She wanted him just as much as she had back at the club, she thought in disgust. What the hell made him so attractive to her?
Maybe it’s the fact that he’s the only man who’s ever beaten you, her brain whispered insidiously.
She shook her head, refusing to acknowledge it. He hadn’t beaten her yet.
He jammed one knee between hers and thrust her legs apart roughly. She shivered and moaned, pushing her butt up at him.
His hand reached between them, fumbling at her clothing. She heard a snicking sound, and then something cold touched her skin. She stilled. He had a knife. Was she wrong? Was he going to kill her now?
All too soon she learned the answer. The knife sliced neatly through her pants and thong. He pulled it away from her body, and then fumbled at his leathers.
She probably could have escaped at that moment if she wanted to, but all she could think about was how good it would feel to have him slide home within her. Then she felt it, the hot, hard round tip of his cock, poised at the mouth of her cunt. She expected him to say something, to play one of the silly games men and women used to communicate their lust. Instead, he thrust into her with all the strength of a man pushed to the limit. Every fiber of her stretched, and for a second the urge to scream was almost too strong to control. Slowly he pulled back, leaving a sense of gaping emptiness. She pushed back up at him, desperate for more.
He slammed into her again. She bucked up at him, forcing him to ride her as their bodies responded to each other. Within moments he had loosened his grip on her arms, and she rose to her hands and knees. It was easier to find leverage in this position. She thrust back at him harder, rocking her body into his with a force that sent shudders along her spine. Every nerve in her body connected along one tight, winding string, a cord that stretched tight with tension and sang out with need as he hit home. She heard a gasping noise, and then realized it came from her mouth. He filled her in a way that no other man had ever done, pushing her to the point of capacity and stretched just a little bit more. He was strong, just as strong as she was, and he wasn’t afraid to treat her roughly.