He made his way into the ablutions chamber and cleansed himself, trying to forget she slept in the room beyond. He dressed in clean clothing before exiting back into his room. He discovered her sitting cross legged on the bed wearing his shirt, the red dress she'd fallen asleep in nowhere to be seen.
No matter, she looked fetching with her tousled hair-not as attractive as when she spilled out of the crimson gown, but enough to make his prick twitch.
"Yeah, so about what happened," she said, drawing his attention from the way her breasts clung to the fabric of his shirt. "That was a mistake." His gaze narrowed. "And it can never happen again."
"Says whom?" he snapped, suddenly irrationally angry. Never mind the fact he couldn't wait to get rid of her, it irritated him that she'd said it first.
"Listen, we don't like each other. Hell, you're planning on selling me to the highest bidder. As such, I think it best if we abstain from-from … " Her cheeks flushed a becoming color and Tren's cock grew, along with his ire.
"I agree. Copulating with the merchandise is not sound business practice." He took savage pleasure in the way her mouth snapped shut and her eyes sparked with anger.
"I hate you."
For some reason her words set off something in him, and he found himself striding over to the bed. She didn't move, just watched him with wide eyes.
Hoisting her up, he stared into her face. She rendered him insane with her words. She drove him crazy with her body. She played havoc with his emotions, body and life. But he couldn't find it in him to kill her or toss her away.
So he kissed her. And when she bit his lower lip, he bit her back.
"You are such a jerk," she panted against his mouth before proceeding to suck on his lower lip.
"And you are a noisy shrew," he rejoined as he aided her in wrapping her legs around his waist. The shirt rode up baring her cleft. His cock found the moist entrance to her sex and he thrust into her, enjoying her keening cry as he filled her tight channel. Hands on her buttocks, he bounced her up and down on his shaft, the tight suction of her sex tugging deliciously along his sensitized prick. Burying his face into the soft curve of her neck, he sucked on the creamy skin, taking care to not bite down-even if the urge rode him hard. To fight his irrational compulsion to claim her, he pumped her faster and she responded by raking her nails across his upper back, a savage reaction that made him shout in pleasure. A climax roared through them both, pulsing through their bodies in a blissful wave that made him collapse, almost boneless on the bed, although he took care to cradle her as they fell.
Sated and panting, face to face on the bed, they came to an agreement.
"I really don't like you," she began. "But for some reason, my body does. I'm sure it's only a passing thing."
"Definitely not permanent," he agreed. "But so long as we must share quarters-"
"We might as well give our bodies what they want," she finished.
They sealed their deal with a kiss and another frantic bout of copulation that left them sweaty and hungry. Of course, their eventual shower and meal rejuvenated them enough that at her frosty insistence he should clean the room and not her-because as she said with her hands planted on her hips, "I am not your bloody maid"-meant they got dirty, sweaty and hungry all over again.
And thus did their journey-and erotic discovery of each other-last through several galactic units, Tren neglecting to stop at the planets on their path that offered entity auctions. His feeble excuse? He'd fetch a better price elsewhere. The truth? He couldn't get enough of the barbarian Earthling-and although he wouldn't admit this aloud or even contemplate it for long in his mind, he didn't want to let her go.
Chapter Seven
Megan lost count of the times she fucked her purple pirate, she refused to label what they did as lovemaking even if they cuddled afterward most times. She still lied to herself that she hated him, but her body knew the truth even if she still remained unprepared to admit it to herself. And especially never to him.
They tried to avoid each other, him leaving to go off and do whatever he did to run the ship while she watched strange alien videos that taught her nothing other than the fact she knew absolutely nothing at all. But like yin and yang, Ben and Jerry, and every other pair who couldn't stay apart, they kept finding excuses to see each other.
Their few conversations, more like sparring matches, always ended one way-naked and panting. Actually, she did it on purpose to goad him into fucking her, but in her defense, he appeared to be doing the same thing.
For some reason, they just couldn't keep their hands off each other even if they maintained their charade of dislike. Nor could they simply just have sex, they needed to go through a complicated dance involving shouting and manhandling-the physical wresting the part which titillated her most.
At least this time, I don't have to go through the whole betrayal thing, she mused. He made no bones about the fact he was going to sell her as soon as he hit the right market. And yet, the funny thing was every time she threw his plan to auction her as a sex slave in his face, he got quiet and angry. Then he always screwed her until she screamed like a banshee. Needless to say, she threw that in his face every chance she got.
They'd exchanged, in between sexual bouts and verbal battles, some bits of personal info. She'd regaled him over another glass of that deadly wine all her previous failed relationships. He'd boasted of his numerous conquests. That particular conversation ended up with her throwing his sex figurines at him and calling him names followed by raking-nails-down-his-back sex. She didn't know which of them was the more pathetic-her for continually trying and failing at love, or him for avoiding it like the plague.
He still didn't trust her with his ship-wise pirate-so she found herself confined to whatever room he wanted her in. Most often the bedroom, but he did also bring her up to his bridge on occasion to give his chair a frenzied and sweaty workout.
They fell into a comfortable pattern, one which she hated to admit she enjoyed. It took her lamenting the fact she didn't have any oils to massage his delectable body with that made her realize this was a problem. She needed distraction from the fact she was growing feelings for her captor. Some form of the Stockholm syndrome that wouldn't end well, for her at least. Thus when the computer announced they approached a docking station for repairs, she jumped all over it.
"I want to come with you," she declared as he clothed his magnificent body.
He didn't even bother to look at her as he replied, a shame because she'd displayed her bosom-a weak spot of his-as a distraction. "No. It's too dangerous."
"Aw, are you trying to tell me you care?" Intentionally, she baited him and when he shot her a glare, she batted her eyelashes at him.
He growled. "You're vexing me again. You know what happens when you do that."
Megan rolled her eyes. "Well, duh. The same thing that happened, like, five minutes ago in the shower when I told you to shave because your face was roughing my girly parts up. And, like, a few hours ago in your command center chair when I declared mutiny. Now, just imagine how much I could irritate you if I came along."
His eyes flared with a look she'd come to recognize-lust. "Very well. You can come with me. But I warn you right now, if you start any trouble, I will leave you there to your fate."
A grin spread across her face as he caved in to her request. "Fine. Whatever. However, do you think while you're acting all hotshot with the locals, you could find me some clothes that fit?" While his clothes were comfortable and soft, she'd prefer garments of her own. The red dress had unfortunately not survived one of their more vigorous encounters.
"Any more demands? This isn't some frukxian cruise you know," he snarled as he tugged on his boots. She ignored his attitude as she'd come to realize a few days ago it was his way of pretending he didn't like her. She knew this because she did the same thing.
"Hey, you're the one who abducted me. Now you get to deal with the consequences." She smirked at him, and then chuckled at his dark glower.
She stopped laughing, though, when he strapped holsters around his waist, thighs and arms. He proceeded to fill them with knives and pistols that he pulled out of yet another opening in the wall.
"Um, is that all really necessary?" She eyed his growing arsenal with fascination and a touch of trepidation.
He didn't bother to answer as he slid a pair of daggers into each of his boots. Armed with enough weapons for half a dozen men, he straightened and grinned, a predatory smile that displayed his pointed teeth. A sane person would have screamed, fainted or shuddered in fear. Megan shivered alright, but with lust because, by all that was holy, he looked damned good-and dangerous.