CAPTURED: 9 Alpha Bad-Boys(38)

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.