Rio

by Allyson James

  “Do you ever touch yourself?” he asked.

  “I have. Once or twice. It wasn’t…”

  “It’s never as much fun as when someone else does it for you. Believe me, I know.”

  “Do you?” she asked. “Touch yourself?”

  “I have to, sometimes, for release. I’ll let you watch if you’re nice.”

  He moved in front of her, walking a close circle around her. “Touch your clit. Rock your finger back and forth on it, that’s the way.”

  She made another small noise, her eyes taking on a slightly desperate look.

  “Keep doing that,” he said.

  He moved behind her again, stopping this time. He lifted the whip and drew the fold under her hair. She gasped, and her hand lifted away.

  “I didn’t tell you to stop,” he said, lowering his voice to a growl.

  Quickly, she put her hand to her quim again. He traced her shoulder blades, then drew the whip down her spine, letting the cool leather slide between her buttocks. She gasped again, but this time did not stop her playing.

  The whip circled each cheek of her ass, then he took it down the back of her right leg to her heel. He played there a moment, then moved to her left heel and up the back of that leg.

  He drew the whip the length of her left arm, from the cup of her shoulder down the line of her triceps, circling her elbow, and moving softly to her fingers.

  He let the whip play in her hand that hung at her side, nudging the leather through her fingers as though daring her to catch it.

  He traced her right arm, following her forearm around to the hand that stroked her pussy. He rested the leather on her fingers, and stepped against her, her naked back to his front, moving the whip with her strokes, as though guiding her.

  “Keep playing,” he whispered.

  She nodded, closing her eyes. Her body warmed, need filling her from her toes to the roots of her hair. He felt her blood pounding faster through her body, her skin dampening with perspiration.

  He inhaled a long breath of her. She’d obviously used one of Dr. Laas’ sensual-smelling soaps when she showered, but layered over that was her own scent and the musk of a woman aroused.

  He dipped the whip between her legs, rubbing her opening. She made a little noise in her throat, her brow furrowing as though troubled.

  “That’s it, love. Feel it. Feel what you can do.”

  He played for a few moments, then moved away from her, taking the whip with him.

  Her eyes flew open, and she cried out in disappointment.

  “Don’t stop,” he commanded.

  Obediently, she rubbed faster.

  He circled her, moving like a predator. He traced the whip over her body in the front, drawing it across her collarbone and around each of her breasts, playing a little with each nipple.

  “Rio,” she whispered.

  “Yes, love?”

  “Will you touch me?”

  “I am touching you,” he said.

  She took a breath. “I mean with your hands.”

  He shook his head. “Not this time.”

  “Please?”

  “No, darlin’.”

  She whimpered. His own blood stirred, his cock so hard he was sure it could hold up the building.

  It killed him not to touch her, but she had to learn to trust. If he touched her now, he’d lay her down and fuck her, then pull her to her knees and whip her for making him lose control.

  Better to just not touch her.

  The whip moved from side to side across her belly, and he smiled playfully as he poked her navel. She made a sound that was half a laugh, until he scowled at her, and the smile left her face.

  He played the whip across her right hip, circling the hipbone, and down her thigh and leg to tickle her toes. He skimmed across her left foot, then brought the leather up her leg and back to her clit.

  “Almost there, sweetheart.”

  She rubbed faster, the desperation in her eyes deepening. He carefully slid his whip between her legs and gently parted her folds.

  “Oh gods,” she moaned.

  He moved the folded tip back and forth, dipping it a tiny way inside, gently fucking her with it. Her head dropped back, fire-red hair spilling all the way down her back to brush her ass.

  She raised up on her tiptoes, a look of beatific release coming over her face. Quickly, Rio took away the whip, the folded tip wet with her cream.

  She cried out in protest and stilled her hand.

  “Don’t stop,” he said harshly.

  She began rubbing herself again, her release lost, her mouth drooping in disappointment.

  He moved behind her, watching her rock back and forth on her feet as she sought the fleeting moment she’d nearly achieved.

  When he judged the time to be exactly right, he stepped back and slapped the leather hard—crack!—across her ass.

  She screamed. He slapped her twice more, and then she came.

  She cried meaningless sounds and sank to her knees, tears flowing from her closed eyes. He knelt behind her, enclosing her body between his legs, his arms going around her.

  He pressed his hand over hers at her pussy, stroking and rubbing, showing her how to draw the climax out as far as it could go.

  “That’s it, baby. Feel every second of it.”

  She moaned and writhed, her head resting on his shoulder, her eyes closed. Her face was wet with tears, and he kissed them away.

  They rode it together, Nella sliding against his cock until he thought he’d die. Over and over they rocked, while her cream covered his hand.

  After a long time, she drew a deep, shuddering breath, and her cries died away.

  Rio kept on stroking her, knowing she’d love the warm, tight feeling against her swollen pussy, even as her climax ebbed. She was wet and open, and his fingers slid easily inside her.

  “Nella,” he said into her ear. “You are so damn beautiful.”

  She opened her eyes, tears pouring from them. She wept on—not, he realized, in joy, but in grief. “What did he do to me?” she asked.

  “Who, sweetheart?”

  “He tried to steal the Bond, and it hurt so much. He tried to take it away from me. He tried to take me away from me.”

  Rio stroked her belly, drawing her back against him, willing his Shareem touch to soothe her.

  He did not really understand what she was talking about, but anger shot through him for whoever he was who’d hurt her. If Rio ever came across the bastard, he’d make him pay. Shareem had been programmed not to be violent, but Rio decided to make an exception.

  “Nella, sweetheart,” he said, “you’re with me, now, and you’re safe. That’s all that matters.”

  She started to quiet, but tears still leaked from her eyes. He drew his hand from the hot pocket of her cunt and put one finger in his mouth.

  “Mmm. I thought you’d taste fine. This is what you are, Nella. Salty and spicy and sharp.”

  She looked up at him, brown-gold eyes wet. He sensed the strong emotions that washed through her, emotions she must have been bottling for a good while.

  And damned if he didn’t want to help her. He wasn’t supposed to want that. He gave physical pleasure and took pleasure, and walked away. It’s what he was for. The black chain hugging his biceps reminded him what he was every day.

  Screw that.

  “Taste.” He slid his middle finger, slick with her cream, to her mouth and gently parted her lips.

  She stared at him in confusion, her emotions in turmoil. Then her tongue moved, and she lightly licked the tip of his finger.

  “Suck it off,” he commanded.

  She closed her eyes, closed her lips over his finger, and timidly sucked.

  “That’s you, Nella. It’s how you taste. It’s what you are. It’s what I taste when I taste you.”

  Her tongue moved a little more firmly, licking up the unfamiliar-tasting juices from his finger.

  Then something in her relaxed—he felt her muscl
es slack—and she began to suckle in earnest. She sucked his finger like she needed it, like he was feeding her life-giving nectar.

  She suckled for a long time, while he held her, softly kissing her hair.

  When she finally opened her eyes again, the fever and fear had gone. She released his finger and leaned against him. He felt her calm, sensed the loosening of muscles beneath her skin and the tension in her easing.

  “Thank you,” she said quietly.

  He sent her a smile. “We’re a long way from done, sweetheart. But you need to sleep now. Store up your energy for later.”

  He unfolded himself from the floor, though the sensual carpet seemed to beg him to stay, and lifted her naked body in his arms. He carried her to the bed and laid her down.

  His body screamed at him to take her now. It would be so easy, she was so relaxed. He could strip off, part her legs and have her before she felt any fear or pain. And then it would be over, and fear and pain would be gone.

  Not yet, his mind answered. It would be good now, but so much better when she’s begging.

  Of course, if he didn’t release soon, Rio would be the one begging. And crawling and needing.

  She lay there, her expression calm. Not trusting, not yet, but something near it. For now, she was simply exhausted.

  Rio fetched the sheet from the floor, shook it out, and draped it over her. She closed her eyes, her breathing quiet.

  Rio leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Sleep tight,” he said. “Dream of me.”

  She murmured something that he didn’t catch. He touched a panel above the bed that dimmed the lights, and lightly kissed her lips. She’d had a hell of a day.

  It was hard to leave her, but he made himself do it. The one taste of her cream only made him crave more. He craved it with a madness about to choke him.

  “Good night, princess,” he said at the door, then forced his feet to move out of the room.

  Baine’s voice greeted him in the lift. “A cold shower, I think?”

  “Shut up and take me up a level,” Rio growled.

  When he hit his own bathroom, the shower was already pulsing full strength, the frigid air coming off it palpable.

  Rio threw off his tunic and leggings and loincloth. In the mirror that covered one wall of the bathroom, he saw his cock, erect and swollen, and the flush on his skin that meant he was dangerously hot. His eyes were solidly blue, his long black hair mussed from his antics with Nella.

  He plunged under the shower jets without thought. Steam rolled from his overly hot skin as the cold water enveloped him.

  He lay down on the bench—all Dr. Laas’ showers had benches—as the water pulsed over him. He closed his hand on his needy cock, stroking firmly upward, his thumb expertly applying the right amount of pressure.

  He thought of Nella and the taste of her and the smell of her cream, the weight of her breasts against his hand and the curve of her beautiful body. His hand moved faster, stroking hard from balls to tip, pinching the underside of his cock.

  Gods, she was beautiful. And all his. In the past, he would have shared her with Rees, or she might have fallen for Rees first. But Rees only had eyes for Talan now, and so this morsel was his.

  Rio would help her and he’d fuck her, and he’d make her his sub. He pictured his collar around her neck, the chain hanging between her pretty breasts, her gaze eagerly following him to see how next she could please him. She’d want to please him, and he’d teach her how to feel true pleasure herself.

  It would be fun.

  He thought of the satisfying noise his whip had made when slapped across her rear. He liked that noise—snap!—followed by her moan of pleasure. There was nothing like it in the universe.

  He slid his left hand between his legs, squeezing the skin behind his scrotum, then he lifted his hips and eased his middle finger between his buttocks. He found his anal star and pushed the tip of his finger inside.

  The pressure of his finger in his ass, the squeeze of his hand around his cock, and the thought of the beautiful sound his whip made on Nella’s backside brought his climax.

  Finally.

  He groaned Nella’s name as his cum shot upward to be swallowed by the unrelenting waterfall of the shower.

  He stroked and stroked, worming his finger into his asshole and pretending she was wriggling a plug in there for him. He’d teach her that too.

  “I’ll teach you everything, sweetheart.”

  And then he’d help her get off-planet where she needed to go, and walk away—and that would be that.

  Some voice deep inside him, in a place he hadn’t gone in a long, long time, began to laugh. Sure cock-brain. You’ll just walk away.

  “I will,” Rio said out loud.

  You should have walked away the minute you laid eyes on her. Too late now, asshole.

  “Oh, shut up,” Rio growled, then he reached up and slapped the control to turn off the water.

  Chapter Six

  Alternate Plans

  “You missed your transport,” Rees said.

  “No shit.”

  Rees and Rio sat in a bar called Judith’s, while Judith, a red-haired, fiery lady, dispensed drinks to her usual customers.

  They’d taken a table in the far corner, one without air slits or windows or intercoms, where they knew they wouldn’t be overheard. Judith kept the corner spy-free just for them. She was a good friend, someone to trust.

  Trust. Rio’s thoughts went back to Nella standing stark naked and scared shitless before him while he told her what he wanted her to do. She could trust him—she just didn’t know it yet.

  “Why?” Rees prompted.

  “Why does everyone keep asking me that? The girl was attacked and dying. I couldn’t leave her in the street.”

  Rees’ expression did not change. “What I meant is you could have taken her to Dr. Laas, handed her over, and still caught the transport. They might have waited five minutes.”

  Rio took a swig of his ale, liking the warm, spicy bite of it. Judith could brew like no one else.

  “If I’d left, I wouldn’t know if she lived or died.”

  “Mmm,” Rees said, and drank his ale.

  Rio eyed his friend suspiciously. Rees was always hard to read, the damned Shareem experiment who’d learned how to keep his emotions deep inside where no one could see them. The only one who could draw him out was Talan. Even to Rio, his best friend for half a lifetime, Rees never opened up.

  “What’s ‘mmm’ supposed to mean?” Rio asked.

  Rees regarded him quietly. “Just that you missed your chance to leave this rock to look after a girl you didn’t know and who you couldn’t heal. Dr. Laas is the doctor, not you.”

  Rio shrugged. “I figured I missed the transport, so why bother running my ass to the dock to find it empty? The patrollers would wonder what the hell I was doing, and I didn’t want to sit in a detention cell all night. Dr. Laas’ beds are much more comfortable. I’ll pay Talan back.”

  Talan had paid the transport captain a small fortune to get Rio off-planet, no questions asked. Of course, the captain had taken off with the money when Rio hadn’t shown up.

  “No you won’t,” Rees said. “She won’t let you. We’ll find you another transport.”

  “Fine.”

  They drank in silence a few minutes. Rio would pay back Talan all the money she’d spent trying to help him. He’d find work like a real person once he got to Station 657, earn money and send it back.

  On Bor Narga, Shareem weren’t allowed to hold jobs, although some “worked” in bars or in resorts for the rich, though they were paid under the table and held no official positions.

  “She’s gorgeous, by the way,” Rees said casually.

  “Who? Nella? Well, yeah, I have eyes. And a cock.”

  “You were in there a long time with her.”

  Rio clicked his empty glass to the table. “Hey, do I ask you for a blow-by-blow of what you do when you’re with a woman?”

 
“Sometimes.”

  Rio relaxed into a grin. “All right, sometimes. But this is different.”

  “I thought it was.”

  Rio eyed him narrowly. “What exactly are you trying to say? She’s a beautiful woman. She’s lost and alone and in danger. I couldn’t fantasize anything better than this.”

  “I was just remembering Serena.”

  Rio stopped. Serena d’Atore had been Rio’s lady ten years ago. She’s been lovely and sexy and more than a sexual partner. She’d been a friend, a good friend—at least, Rio had thought so. Rio, stupidly, had fallen in love with her.

  There was a reason the researchers at DNAmo had tried to program emotions out of Shareem. Emotions were damn inconvenient, getting in the way of everyday life and pursuit of a good fuck.

  “Serena was a mistake—one I’m not making again,” Rio said in a hard voice.

  He thought that would be the end of it, but Rees only looked at him thoughtfully and drank his ale.

  * * * * *

  Nella, awake, showered, and dressed in the clean short-sleeved tunic she’d found waiting in her bedroom, ascended through the house to a soft-colored dining room where Talan and Dr. Laas were taking a meal. Baine had directed her here, sounding disdainful that she’d succumbed, if only temporarily, to Rio’s charms.

  When she entered the dining room, Talan looked around from an earnest conversation with Dr. Laas and smiled.

  Talan was a beautiful woman, Nella decided, with her red hair, bright blue eyes and curving figure. She also had a look of serenity about her, as though she’d struggled with inner turmoil for a long time then finally found peace.

  She was in love, Nella realized. She was in love with that huge, gorgeous man called Rees. The one without an off-switch.

  Rio had shaken loose some part of Nella that had been long hidden, tight down where no one could find it, not even herself. Her dreams had been both troubling and soothing—soothing because she’d relived Rio’s Shareem touch and the way he’d held her when she’d wept, troubling because she’d responded so readily to him.

  She remembered his whisper, dream of me, before he’d gone. She’d obeyed him with an ease that startled her.

  “Good morning,” Talan said, rising from her chair. She came to Nella, took her uncertain hands and led her to a place at the table.