by Mima
“I need an outfit, something with a scarf to cover my hair. I want one of my guns, but everything else on me is yours.” Please. See that this is a King’s ransom. Help me.
One of the women lowered her gun and pursed her lips, her gaze taking in Malla’s rig critically.
“Gun down, Shakri. Little warrior, you have a deal. Quickly, move into this back room.”
“I don’t think so. The outfit, in one minute, or I leave.”
The woman tilted her head, then, “Quickly Annette! Quickly!”
Malla began undoing her boots, her pants, and a too-young girl came scurrying out with a red dress and a black scarf. Malla took off her chest armor and put the dress on, then picked up her midrange gun again, backing toward the door as she kicked her boots off and worked her pants down.
“You’d be a fool to go out the front. My girls never use it. Annette! Get her some slippers.”
Malla stared at the older woman as she finished kicking off the armor. She felt naked, exposed, fragile. Still, they could have fired on her by now.
“You lead, no one follows.”
She nodded gracefully, amused. “Shakri, get her gear out of sight.”
Annette leaned over a couch to hand her some simple black sandals with shaking
hands. Malla snatched them and followed the woman, watching the other two women
warily. Her heart threatened to pound out of her throat. She expected an ambush at any moment. But the woman opened a door onto a quiet alley and gestured silently with her hand. Malla inched past her, looking back over her itching shoulders.
The woman leaned in the doorway. “Turn left at the street. Three blocks down, turn left again and then right. That’s the gate to the hangar. If someone asks how much, answer 4
creds. Your dress will mark you as mine, so in about fifteen minutes, I’m going to announce we’ve been attacked and you demanded an outfit. Good luck, sweet.”
She closed the door, and it sizzled with an electric seal. She refused to let the woman’s casual endearment overwhelm her with memories of her men calling her that.
Malla put on the sandals hastily, and tucked the scarf around her hair. She put her gun in the fold of her arms that she wrapped around herself as if she were cold. Keeping her head down, she turned out of the alley like she knew where she was going and belonged. At the third intersection, where she was to turn left, there was a contingent of guards in sets of four scanning down every street. She couldn’t keep her step from hesitating when she saw them and cursed herself.
She ignored them, rounding the corner, but one of them called out.
“Hey! Sunshine House! Come over to the barracks later!”
Her hand jerked so hard she almost pulled the trigger. But she managed to
nonchalantly free her empty hand and wave to him in a way that was noncommittal.
Laughter rang in the street. Her heart pounding as she tried to increase her pace, she scurried to the next corner, and scooted out of their sightline. She came to a screeching stop.
An angry crowd was shouting at a full wall of armed men at the hangar entranceway.
Apparently, they had closed all the gates, preventing entries or exits. Men and women waved their fists, and a few fists had guns. Eyes filling with tears, Malla turned to go back into the moon’s streets. She needed to find a place to hole up. A hotel, or a café. But in about three minutes, by her watch, if the woman was even to be trusted, this outfit would no longer be safe. And she had no money.
Grady! Kor! Grady! Kor ! Then Malla thought of Vel, running his princely duties from afar as he risked his life to be part of the war. She thought of how little time she’d had with all her men. And she knew, to the marrow of her bones, that while any of the team was still alive, they’d never give up on each other. They’d keep coming. She’d do her best to get clear, and she’d find them, just like they’d find her. She wouldn’t believe Shon had died in that massive explosion when the air ship had gone down.
As if her thought had indeed psychically summoned him, Shon slammed her into the side of a building, staring at her with glittering black eyes and bared teeth.
“Shon?” Malla blinked, astonished, overjoyed. His helmet and one glove were gone. He was splattered in blood and stank like ash. Her heart stopped. “Is any of that yours? Are you hit?”
He growled, jerked her up and over his shoulder, and took off with blurring speed.
Malla choked as his shoulder jammed repeatedly into her unarmored stomach, and then shrieked when he launched himself up onto a landing, and jumped them to a balcony. He crashed through the window, which thankfully wasn’t secure, and she yelped again as a shard of the stiff material caught on her back and ripped her skin and dress.
He tossed her on the floor, spun her onto her stomach, and scrambled to get her dress up onto her back. He kicked her knees apart, and suddenly, Malla understood that Shon was about to fuck her. She looked over her shoulder. He was staring at her spread thighs, his nose drawn up, his lips peeled back. He worked at his pants, but since he still had one thick glove on, was hindered, and growing frustrated.
Malla swallowed and swung her head back around. She was staring at a pile of boxes.
They appeared to be in some sort of store room. She braced her elbows, lowered her torso, and shoved her ass high. She closed her eyes as she heard him snarl. give myself I
in service,
but more, I give myself in love. Her heart pounding, she waited, listening to the armor rip as it opened. Finally, she’d get all of her Shon. She’d show him. He’d been so afraid to let her have even a tiny taste. She was not afraid.
Shon’s cock shoved into her, deep and hard and hot. She bit her lip to keep from crying out at the cascade of feeling. Stay calm, stay passive. He needs submission. His hands settled on her hips like docking clamps and he began to power in and out with huge swinging sweeps of his hips. His drives were deep and wild, pistoning along his entire length. It was so good. After several strokes she couldn’t keep the moans in, although she kept them deep, humming in ecstasy. His growls and snarls were thrilling, and her heart was in her throat.
Just as she was shimmering in pleasure, winding tighter, he pulled out.
With a skin-pebbling roar, he yanked her hips back and down, so she was folded over with her knees beneath her, her ass framed by her heels. He pressed down on her hips, as he set his tip to her ass, and pushed steadily, relentlessly in. He didn’t give her a chance to get over the first stinging burn of his head stretching her hole. He didn’t adjust his motion in any way for the wail that ripped from her at his heat, his size.
She hadn’t taken it in the ass in weeks and Shon was a very large, very excited man.
The pain of him bit at her as he filled her, nestling his tip into the base of her spine. For one second, when he was fully hilted and she gasped for breath, she thought he actually purred with satisfaction. Then, on a snarl, he pulled out, his hard fingers holding her still, and he began to fuck her as thoroughly as he had before.
By the third stroke, the burning faded. By the sixth, pleasure was cascading down her thighs and pooling in her stomach. She soon lost count, glorying in the increasing pace. The volume of his snarls increased, and she could hear how hard he was breathing.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, Shon.”
Then, he jammed himself deep on a powerful lunge, and shoved in even tighter, as his hips against her shuddered and ground. She cried out, her vagina clamping uselessly, her clit aching, and came with him. Her energy swirled around him, but he barely took it. It was like he was a closed door, and only a bit seeped in at the seams.
Over her echoing cry, she swore she heard him say, “Malla!”
Then he ripped himself out of her, to her disappointed, shocked gasp. When she dared to move, she let herself fall to her side and looked over her shoulder. He was pacing from wall to wall in front of the shattered window. He was pulling at his glove with his teeth, and eventually got it off.
His pants were open, and his semi-hard erection lay gleaming against his armor.
Malla focused on the giant, broken window. It was a rather obvious hostile entry and they needed to move. She bit her lip, staring at the man she’d known as a serious, reserved leader. All right, maybe she was a little uncertain around this new Shon. Should she ask to do his pants for him? Suggest moving on? Ask if he knew the other men’s status? He growled, pacing, pacing. Hmmm. Maybe not.
Her hand ached. She glanced at it, shocked to see the butt of her gun was still in her grip. She thought perhaps her fingers had frozen around it, and would have to be broken in order to release it. She sat up and pushed her skirt down around her thighs, wincing as the fabric brushed against the now throbbing burn on her leg. She glanced down. Poo. The fabric stuck in fresh blood.
And in that moment, a mental knife struck between her eyes.
“Hungggh!” Malla flew back onto the floor, arching, all her muscles locked. Her head bounced, hard.
Shon roared, leaping on her, his face in hers. Malla moaned, relearning how to breathe.
What the fuck was that? Had Shon shot her? No. Grady. That had been Grady, and he now knew her situation. She no longer wanted to leave the room. Hurry, Grady. Hurry.
Shon sniffed along her face, licked her cheek. She would have smiled if she had muscle control, but her body was still stunned from Grady’s takeover. He licked over her eyes, a tender gesture that touched her. He licked her ear, his breath warm. He licked her jaw, and the firm stroke soothed her. He licked her lips and she sighed. Then he bit her throat, teeth sinking, ripping at her skin. She screamed. Shon lifted his head and roared in her face, then licked along the wound with the flat of his tongue.
Blinking tears from her eyes, Malla saw Kor leap onto the balcony, glance at the scene.
Malla laid out, Shon on top of her, licking blood off her neck. He raised his gun -- Malla screamed -- and fired.
Then Shon was laying on her, deadweight. Kor was through the door and Vel was right behind him. Grady was there, Radha over his shoulder.
Kor heaved Shon off her. “Malla!”
“No! Shon! No!” She hit at Kor, horrified, shocked. She was still holding her gun and it whacked him in the head. “What have you done! What did you do?”
“Hey!” He pinned her arm. “Malla! It’s me! We’ve got you.”
“No! No!”
Grady knelt, efficiently tying Shon’s arms. “Malla, he’s alive, love. He’s just stunned.
Stand down!”
Malla gasped, her arms falling limp.
Kor sat up and rubbed his temple. “Way to help the concussion. Let me take a look at this wound.”
When he leaned over her, reaching for her throat, she hit him again with the gun, as hard as she could. He fell to one side of her, and she scrabbled back from him. “How could you! Why did you! We need him!”
Moaning, Kor clutched his head. She felt no remorse. Grady frowned at her while he tucked Shon back into his pants and closed them. “Malla, he was at your throat. We heard you screaming. The fighting’s over for now. We’ve taken him down like this many times. He wants us to.”
She screeched in fury, feeling she was about to go bestial and supercharged herself.
“That is such BULLSHIT!”
“Server! Get control of your emotions immediately or I will stun you next!”
Vel’s absolute command snapped her gaze to his.
“Shut the fuck up, Vel.” Kor whispered, still holding his head. “You’re not shooting our Malla.”
“Yeah! So there!” She was panting, her gaze darting from one man to another. She threw herself forward into Grady’s arms and burst into tears.
His gloved hand pulled at her hair as he stroked it over her head. “Come on out of this, Malla. In 5, 4, 3, 2, 1. Shhhh.”
She gulped, shuddering, wiping her face on his hard chest. Glancing up at him, she swallowed, blinked into his blue eyes. “Where’s your helmet?”
He grinned a dangerous grin. “I took it off to kiss my lover and never had occasion to put it back on.”
Malla thought for a minute she’d start to cry again. Her men, here, all here.
“Lovely, are you injured?”
Vel ran his vid over her, frowned.
“Yes, a laser hit. It’s not bad. I can run. I made it to the gate, but they’ve blocked it.”
“Hit! Where?” Kor’s hands floated frantically around the air, like he was afraid to touch her.
“Lie down, let me treat it, Malla.” Vel was already going through his pack. “Damn it, we’re getting low on supplies. We can’t keep taking this kind of damage.”
“Is it bad? How bad is it, Vel?” Kor babbled.
He raised her bloodied skirt exposing the raw burn and Kor exploded onto his feet.
“Fuck! Malla!”
Vel patched her, and the pain she didn’t even know she’d had died away to a weak throbbing in her leg. “I’ll do better when we’re clear. Turn over. I’ve got a reading at your back, too.”
Kor hissed when she did so. “Did he do that? Did Shon rip you open!”
“No! It was just a piece of glass when we came through the window.” She grunted as Vel patched that, too. He helped her sit up, his face closed, polite. She recognized this look now. He was mad.
“Let me see your neck.” He sprayed it, then put a small patch on it.
“How are you guys doing? Are you hurt, too?”
“Various minor injuries, and our gifts are tapped out. We’ve got to return to full strength. We need your magic, lovely.”
“Head’s up. I see hostiles moving our way.”
Grady’s quiet words sent Vel to his feet, groaning under Shon’s weight. He shifted his limp form for a better hold. “Move out.”
Kor held out his arms to Malla. “Sorry, sweet. You’ve got to come with the big bad guy who thought he was saving your life.”
Malla nodded. She hopped up onto his back, child-style, easier because he was without his backpack. They went deeper into the building, up onto the roof, and descended through a different building all the way to the basement. Grady laid Radha, still unconscious, down, and Malla unlocked her arms from Kor’s throat. Vel sat, dropping Shon to the side, gasping for breath.
Malla landed in a heap on the floor opposite him. She stared around the dirty room, full of broken furniture and boxes of liquor. And for the first time, she wondered if she was strong enough to serve her team. Previously, she’d been focused, dedicated, confident. She couldn’t imagine being fucked, giving head, or masturbating any time soon. If only they’d been there five minutes before, when Shon had taken her, and it all would have been done.
Now, they’d never needed her more. This was it. Do or die. And dying was looking more probable than not.
“Malla.”
She looked blearily up at Vel, who crouched next to her. His face was a mask, but his eyes seemed to glow with extra moisture. He held out his hand, uncurling his gloved fingers to reveal a med patch with a tiny black symbol. She stared at it a minute. Then her brain kicked in. Server’s Rape. If she took it, she’d want to fuck anything that moved for about twenty minutes. She’d be desperate to. And if they were interrupted and had to move, she’d end up going out of her mind with need.
She looked up at Vel again. His hair was matted, darkened with sweat. He had blood and grime all over him. His red-tipped lashes swept down, and when he looked back at her, his mask slipped, and he looked devastated.
“I’m sorry. So sorry,” he whispered. “After what he did to you.”
No tears came to her eyes. She raised her free hand and cupped his face, ignoring the dried blood. “No regrets. Shon didn’t hurt me. We’re alive, and we’re together. That’s a best case scenario. Things were much worse half an hour ago.”
Vel shook his head, laying his face in her palm.
“My question for you is, do you have one more firefight in you? If you had to, right now, without me, could you do it?
”
He nodded against her hand. “Yes. We’d do it because failure is not an option. But we’d all know it was going to cost us.”
“Exactly. I’m the same way. Failure is not an option. I can finish this fight, but it’s going to cost me.”
“Us, Malla. It’s going to cost all of us, to see this through with you.”
She nodded, withdrawing her hand. “Put that away. I won’t need it.”
Grady objected. “Malla, let it help you. We’ll take care of you.”
“Yes, you will. Later, on the ship. I’m not going to do that, Grady. I don’t ever want you to see me like that.”
“Baby…” Kor protested. “No. Don’t do this.”
She was surprised he’d figured it out first. In one sweeping movement, Malla reached out to Vel, took his laser knife from his belt, and slashed her arm. Vel and Grady shouted.
Vel grabbed the knife from her and she let him. “You’re wasting it. Drink.”
He grabbed up her arm and closed his mouth over it, his eyes glaring at her. He sucked and she cried out, struggling not to pull away. Grady came up behind her and held her tight.
Kor lined up next to Vel, and after a few swallows, Vel pulled back, efficiently passing her arm to Kor. Kor drank, moaning once in choked pleasure but finishing in silence. Then he shoved her arm up toward Grady who took it by leaning over her shoulder. Grady drank as they had, ruthless to her shaking pain, lips sealed tight.
Then Grady pulled back and held her arm while Vel seared it with some skin regen, which burned like a bitch. The whole thing was over in less than five minutes.
Vel’s touch was gentle, but his words were like ice. “That little stunt wasn’t called for.
You discuss things with us. I could have numbed your arm.”
Malla blinked her damp lashes at him. “Oh.” She hadn’t thought of that. “May I have some now, pretty please?”
Sighing in irritation, he gave the anesthesia to her. Instantly, the gun in that hand clattered to the floor. The imprint of the grip was set into the skin of her palm.
“Wow, that stuff’s great.”