With a roar he threw her back onto the bed, shamed greed ripping through his blood. She squealed, the sound both triumphant and hungry. He stared at her for a second, chest heaving, cock a burning rod jutting from his trousers before throwing himself atop her, grabbing her wrists and ramming them to the bed beside her head. Immediately, she ground her mons to his cock, the velvety-slick curve like a molten brand on his flesh. “Fuck me with that, Jak,” she ordered, burning violet eyes staring into his. “Stick it in my cunt now.”
“I’ll stick it wherever I want, Bhel,” he growled through clenched teeth. “Whenever I want.”
She chuckled and the sound was like a whip biting into his soul. “Really?” One long, toned leg extended and wrapped around his hip, the action spreading the lips of her folds a little wider. Wet cream smeared the base of his cock, matted in the hair on his balls and Jak bucked, fresh blood flooding his already turgid shaft.
He sucked in sharp breath. “Bitch.”
Her responding laugh filled the small quarters. “Correct once again, Guardian.” She moved her hips, sublime body undulating under his until her sodden pussy lips pressed the glands on his cock and her erect nipples teased the tight nubs of his own. “Now,” her fingers tangled in his hair with fierce force and she grinned up at him, “suck my tits.”
Jak did. He was incapable of refusal. He closed his lips around one puckered peak, drawing it past his teeth into his mouth. He flicked his tongue over it, a small sense of satisfaction rippling through him at Bhelais’ deep moan. She shoved her breast harder to his face and he bit down hard on the tight pebble.
Bhelais moaned again, grinding her cunt to his now burning cock. “Bite it harder, Guardian,” she ordered. “Save me.”
He clamped his teeth down and she arched beneath him, a high-pitched whimper sounding in the back of her throat. Gods of Urik. Save her? Save him.
He jerked his mouth from Bhelais’ breast and stared down into her face, body and balls aching for release. He needed to see something in her face, an emotional connection. He needed to know the woman beneath him was capable of feeling something other than lust and manipulative control.
Violet eyes stared back at him, free of Bliss but burning with it all the same. “My soul is already lost, Jak,” she whispered, nostrils flaring as her body began to tremble in his hold. “Don’t try and save something that doesn’t exist anymore.” And with that, she sank her nails into his ass and impaled herself upon his jutting, hungry, straining cock.
Liquid heat crashed through him. Over him. Pounded him against rocks he didn’t know were there and left him gasping. “Fucking gods.”
Bhelais’ sex gripped him like a tight sheath, pussy muscles squeezing his length in a slow pulsating rhythm that almost drove him mad. Her nails raked at the leather of his trousers and he bucked his hips, letting her yank them down over his ass. His balls sprang free of the restricting hide and slapped against Bhelais’ pussy lips as he plunged into her again, filling her completely.
The smell of sex filled the air. Jak dragged in a ragged breath, tasting her. Bhelais gripped him, her arms and legs holding him to her writhing body as her sex contracted around his cock. She ran her hands up his back and buried them into the tumbled mess of his hair again, directing his mouth to her curved neck. He knew what she wanted. Pain.
He latched onto the smooth column, at the point where her neck disappeared behind the imprisoning collar, and sank his teeth into her flesh, sucking it with such force she would wear his mark for days to come. A sign of property she seemed to relish. “Tell me, Guardian.” she called out, pussy constricting in tight pulses. “Tell me I’m the best you’ve had. Now.”
Perspiration streaming down his face, Jak pounded into her, wanting to punish her. For using him, manipulating him. For stealing his heart when she didn’t want it. “Curse you, Bhel.” he spat from between gritted teeth, blood still roaring through his veins as their bodies became one.
“Tell me.”
He hammered into her, cock a driving pole of steel that grew harder, hungrier, with each penetration. He knew she manipulated him; he was a Boundary Guardian, for fuck’s sake. His instincts were honed to perfection. But he couldn’t deny her. To feel her sopping pussy suck at his cock… To feel her mouth close around his swollen balls… To know in doing so he kept her alive, kept her with him and no other…
Urik’s blood, man. You’re an idiot.
The thought zinged through his head, his heart, like an eon blast, shattering any control he exerted over his body.
Torrid, febrile tension erupted in his balls. He bucked, spasm after tight, wet spasm possessing him. Bhelais moaned, sinking her nails into the muscles of his shoulders as her cunt contracted and milked his cock. “Oh, gods, Jak. Please tell me.”
She cried out, and—just before his seed shot from his cock in scorching wads—Jak heard it; the faintest hitch of desperate sadness in her voice. It made his chest squeeze tight with warm hope. Perhaps he could save her after all.
And then her lips pressed to his ear and she whispered four simple words. Four words that stabbed straight into his pounding heart like an icy blade: “I want Bliss. Now.”
* * * *
Tornada narrowed his eyes. She’d been here. Not that long ago.
Surveying the copulating forms reclining, standing and hanging around him, he moved deeper into The Pit.
The stench of sex hung heavy in the air, making his cock twitch in interested attention beneath his trousers. Sex with a holo-projection could only take the edge off so much before his body demanded more. Since Jaienna had walked out of their bedroom though, many many months ago, holo-fucking was his only release. Yes, he could resort to a whore or slave, but why should he? Jjor’s didn’t pay for sex, it was beneath his species, and as an Intel-Patrol agent he abhorred slavery.
An esoteric smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. The things he’d done, the sins he’d committed for the Corp were too hideous to comprehend, but he had his ethics. If he didn’t he’d just become one of the sick criminals he hunted down each day.
“May I direct you to a specific den, sir?”
Tornada turned, giving the Sheilite Dom approaching him a steady look. “I’m in the mood for a Raavelian. Preferably redhead.” He affected a contemplative expression. “With green eyes.”
The Sheilite regarded him, exoskeleton plates clacking as she tilted her head slightly to the left. “Raavelians do not come with green eyes, sir,” she said, her own iridescent yellow ones guarded. “May I suggest a Hetap?” She paused for a loaded moment. “Male?”
Tornada suppressed a snarl…and the urge to vaporize the insektoid there and then. He crossed his arms across his chest, letting her see the intricate Jjor nobility tattoo on his left forearm he normally kept concealed. Jjors rarely moved beyond the civility of the Inner Boundaries, but their reputation traveled far. Nobility and royalty did not exist in the cesspool that was the Outer Boundaries, but power and money did. Power and money ruled the Outer Boundaries and Tornada had both. “Female. Raavelian. Red hair. Green eyes,” he repeated. “And do not tell me you don’t have one because I know for a fact Hrung Crortek’s personal buyer purchased one from the slaver Baltiar only a few days ago.”
The Sheilite’s eyes flicked to the left again. There was another pause, this one heavy with agitated tension and then the Dom bowed her head slightly, as if granted permission to continue by an unseen master. “We are no longer in possession of that Raavelian, sire,” she replied, and Tornada noted with a degree of irritated pleasure the change in tone and title. “She was granted freedom by Master Crortek and left with a Boundary Guardian.” Another quick pause. Another quick look to the left. “A Terran.”
A hideously arousing image flashed into Tornada’s mind. A faceless Terran with golden eyes mounting Jaienna from behind, taking her as an animal would take its mate. Primitive, brutal and powerful. He cast the Sheilite a dismissive look. “Thank you.”
Cold satisfa
ction spread through him. There was more going on here than just an accommodating sex-den Dom. The moment he’d landed on Pellaxion Four his ears had picked up muttered whispering about a fight at The Pit, about a man changing to a wild beast and almost killing Crortek in the main chamber. Whisperings that involved a Terran Boundary Guardian. Tornada had relegated them as local stupidity but the uncharacteristically helpful nature of the Dom before him gave cause to wonder now. The Sheilite was being controlled by someone else, her answers approved before they were given. Something was going on, something that piqued his interest, but he would deal with it and the unseen manipulator in due course. What mattered at that very second was Jaienna’s trail. A trail now so fresh he could almost taste her.
His cock twitched in his trousers and he smiled, eager satisfaction rolling through him.
He was close. So very, very close.
Chapter 4
“Identity approved, Guardian. Permission to dock granted.”
Jaienna leant forward and punched the com control. “Thank you, Ry’l One,” she said, staring out the view-screen of the Reaper’s stolen shuttle at the slowly spinning space station. “Docking commencing.”
Seconds later a dull clunk reverberated throughout the small craft as it interlocked with one of a dozen short umbilical protrusions, sending a vibrating jolt into the pit of Jaienna’s stomach. She raked her fingers through her hair. She was here. Without Zeric Arctos in pursuit.
A numb sensation welled up in her chest.
Without Zeric, period.
It’s for the best, Jaienna. He rejected you. He didn’t even bother coming after you when you jumped the Reaper. It’s time to move on. Think of Bhel. She needs you now more than anything else.
Swallowing a sharp sigh, she gathered up her belongings—well, the blaster she’d had since fleeing Pellaxion Four, the only thing she could remotely call her own—and debarked. Passing herself off as a Boundary Guardian had been the easiest part of docking. She already had a fake Guardian Identiti-code and the Intel-Patrol Corp had imbedded her larynx with a sub-mucosa distortion device her second year of service. Not only would she have the proper security codes, but she would pass voice identification security as well. It came in quite handy when putting to port on Unified Parliament space, such as now.
Icy manufactured air assaulted her as she stepped from the shuttle into the space station, rippling a shiver across her skin. It pinched her nipples into tight tips of flesh and she frowned. Not because of the chilly temperature, but because the all too painful memory of Zeric’s lips, tongue and teeth on those sensitive peaks flooded her mind the second they grew taut.
Tears of Druentia, Jaienna. Snap out of it.
Forcing the arousing—and frustrating—memory from her head, she crossed to the nearest manifest point and punched in her sister’s DNA Identiti-code.
A blur of information flashed up on the screen and Jaienna frowned. “What the…” Bhelais and Jak Thorson were situated in the space station’s Beta Arm, in a single cell currently guarded by a perimeter lock. Her frown turned grim. Someone inside was wearing a prohibitor collar and she’d bet her life it wasn’t the Yrathian.
Shoving her blaster into the holster strapped around her right thigh, she headed toward Beta Arm. Black anger and cold worry jostled for position in her chest. Why was Bhel wearing a Guardian imprisoning device? What was Jak thinking? She stormed through the dimly lit corridors, ignoring the stares and mutters of those parting before her like a wave. He’d better have a good explanation. She hadn’t risked everything to see her sister enslaved again, no matter who placed the collar around her neck. Or why.
The corridor leading into Beta Arm was deserted when Jaienna stepped through its entrance, the single passageway dim and icy. She moved down its silent walkway, fighting the urge to pull her blaster as she counted off the cells. Bhel and Jak were in Cell 42. It should be… She stopped directly in front of a closed steel door, giving it a long, steady look. “Here.”
A dull red light glowed below the number, indicating the occupants did not wish to be disturbed.
Jaienna’s lips pulled into a bleak smile. “Too bad.”
With a quick dance of her fingers, she deactivated the locking mechanism and stepped into the room.
Jak Thorson looked up at her as she entered the cell. A blush—so red she was surprised she couldn’t feel its blazing heat on her skin—turned his face into a crimson mask, the intricate scars on his cheeks that spoke of his pre-pubescent sexual initiation a stark white pattern against the flaming flesh.
“Jia—”
Before he could finish however, Jaienna pulled her blaster and aimed it at his naked chest. “Don’t say a word.” She looked first at him, then at the leather straps buckled around his wrists binding him to the Xolotlan fuck-tower against which he stood. Calm fury descended on her like a cold shroud. “Not a fucking word.”
She turned her gaze from Jak’s shocked, embarrassed and guilty eyes to the steady and languid violet of her sister’s. The hideous marks of Crortek’s ownership were gone. The young woman looking back at her had the exquisite face of a goddess—perfect and sublime. Bhelais’ true face. “Bhel,” she said, doing everything in her power to ignore the fact her younger sister crouched on all fours on the tower’s mid-platform before Jak, naked and slicked with sweat, ass grinding his hips in slow circles.
Bhelais gave her a lazy smile, flashing small, white even teeth. “Hello, Jia.”
Jaienna cocked an eyebrow. “I see you and Jak are getting to know each other better.” She flicked her attention back up to Zeric’s partner, a grim sense of satisfaction rolling through her at the mortified expression on his face. He still hadn’t said a word. Which was smart. Otherwise she’d probably shoot him.
“Well you know me, Jia,” Bhel drawled as she wriggled her ass harder to Jak’s hips. “I’ve always wanted what my big sister had.”
Jaienna’s heart clenched at the lurid tone in her sister’s voice. The last time they’d spoken Bhelais had been a sweet albeit stubborn girl in awe of the universe and naïve to its dangers. Jaienna had spent their childhood in the Raavelia Alpha slave camps fucking anyone she had to, to keep Bhel from becoming someone’s property. The moment her ability to plant suggestions in the minds of those she brought to orgasm manifested, she’d worked her way to T’Er Ja, the slave trainer and “suggested” he grant them their freedom. She’d set her and Bhel up in a small holding on Raavelia Gamma straight away, leaving her sister in the care of the local Druentia High Priestess—a doting old woman with a heart of gold—before joining the Intel-Patrol Corp.
A lifetime of abuse, of seeing what the powerful did to the weak and vulnerable made Jaienna determined to bring what justice she could to the Outer Boundaries. With her unique ability, being an Intel-Patrol Corp agent was the perfect way to do so.
Two moon cycles into her last mission, on the dark side of Boaronia on the tail of a hideous child rapist, she’d received a communiqué from the High Priestess: Bhelais had run away.
It took Jaienna exactly two days to learn of Bhel’s Bliss addiction at the hands of Hrung Crortek. Unfortunately, it had taken much longer to track her down. The memory of where she found her—in one of the crime lord’s sex-dens, high on Bliss and fucking two Xolotlans and a Boaronian—still gave her nightmares. As did the fact she’d spent the last four moon cycles thinking Bhel was dead.
She studied her sister now, perched on the fuck-tower’s mid platform with her ass pressed to Jak’s cock, her once innocent eyes now burning with a carnal fervour that made Jaienna’s stomach turn. Gods, Bhel. I’m so sorry I failed you.
She ran her gaze along the line of the prohibitor collar locked around Bhelais’ neck before flicking Jak a dark scowl. “I asked you to look after her, Jak. To keep her safe.”
Jak’s blue eyes flared with an indecipherable emotion. “I am keeping her safe, Jaienna. If you let me—”
But Bhelais cut him short. “Hush, Jak. This is between
me and my sister.” Her violet stare burned brighter and she straightened, pressing her back to the length of his muscled chest and stomach. “He’s pretty, isn’t he, Jia?” she murmured, lifting her arms to curl them around his neck. “And he’s mine.”
Jaienna holstered her blaster and stepped deeper into the cell. “Come on, Bhel. Let’s go home. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”
Bhel’s chin tilted. “I don’t need you to look after me anymore, Jaienna. I have my very own Boundary Guardian now.” Another one of those totally foreign smiles stretched Bhel’s pouted lips and she rotated her hips in a slow arc against Jak’s body. “Just like you. Although mine tends to have less hair.”
Anger crashed over Jaienna again. She shot Jak another angry glare—that’s my baby sister you’re fucking, Yrathian—before turning her attention back to Bhelais. “That’s enough, Bhel.” She stepped forward, resting her palms on her sister’s rib cage as she looked deep into her wide-spaced eyes. “It’s time to go home and clean up.”
“No, Jia,” Bhelais replied, voice utterly calm. “It’s time to stay here and loosen up.”
And with a speed Jaienna didn’t know her sister capable of, Bhelais whipped her left arm down from behind Jak’s head and stabbed the hydro-shot clenched tight in her fist straight into Jaienna’s neck.
Pumping pure, concentrated Bliss straight into her blood stream.
Jaienna gasped. Explosive heat erupted between her thighs, wet and intoxicating. Her pussy clamped down on a cock that wasn’t there, her nipples aching for a mouth equally missing. Oh gods.
Bliss pumped through her bloodstream, invaded her brain, feeding the denied hunger simmering in her body since leaving Zeric behind on the Reaper. Insidious and compelling. Her head swam and her pulse quickened. Gods. No.
“Bhel.” Jak’s stunned voice filled the small room and Jaienna’s sex fluttered at its strong male tone. “What are you doing?”
Jaienna stared into her sister’s eyes, breasts swollen with lust, pussy sodden and longing to be filled. “Why did you do that, Bhel?”
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