Wicked Captor

by Draven, Zoey

  It was heavy in her hand and she held it away from her body. “I don’t want to use this. I could hurt you!”

  He raised his brow. “I told you before, if you manage to hurt me, then I deserve it.” Cara didn’t know if she should be offended or not by that comment. “Regardless, my heart is not so easy to pierce as an Azatian’s.”

  “And what if I hurt myself?” she asked quietly. The blade might slip.

  Devix was quiet and she watched him appear to struggle with his answer, which confused her.

  Finally, he gritted out, “Then you will learn not to do it again, as all warriors must.”

  Warrior. She was no warrior, but she could still accept his words. In a way, she appreciated them. They were tough, hard to digest, but she would learn from a mistake.

  “Okay,” she said, approaching the center of the mat, where he stood.

  He circled her again, coming from behind. His hands were strong and sure as he gripped her waist, adjusting her stance slightly, nudging her hips.

  Cara’s lips parted, but she looked straight ahead, ignoring the warmth that emanated from his fingertips. She noticed he was careful not to cut her with his claws, something she appreciated.

  Next, he adjusted her arm that held the blade, lowering it a few inches, but his grip lingered as he said, “Always remember this stance. It was the first one taught to me.”

  “I will,” she said quietly. Her voice sounded tight and she had to remind herself to breathe.

  He made a sound in the back of his throat and then moved away. Her body swayed, trying to follow his touch, but she righted herself with a shake.

  “Stand straight,” he said. Cara blinked and then released the stance, straightening. He nodded and then ordered, “Show me you remember.”

  Cara adopted the pose, remembering the way his hands had positioned her body into place, her legs widening, knees bending, lowering her arm but keeping it out from her body.

  “Tev,” he said, coming to stand a few feet in front of her, adopting a similar stance, but without a weapon. He pushed a claw against the green suede shirt, right where an Azatian’s heart would beat. “Here.”

  Cara swallowed, nerves swarming her body. She was tiny compared to him. She’d seen how quickly he could maneuver his body, the force he used when he struck. Cara knew he wouldn’t hurt her, but would she be able to handle him at all?

  Defeat frightened her more than anything.

  “Stop thinking,” he commanded quietly.

  Cara gazed at him, just a few arm lengths away. Was she so easy to read?

  Her gaze flickered to his chest.

  Stop thinking, she repeated silently.

  She drew in a deep breath and then let her mind go blank.

  She lunged. He dodged.

  And it began.

  TEN

  Sweat soaked Cara’s shirt, making it stick to her skin, molding to her body. She was tired, but she didn’t feel as winded as yesterday when she was trying to fight against three hundred or so pounds of solid muscle.

  Cara guessed they’d been at it for a couple hours. Her limbs ached, but her muscles were warm and loose. Eventually, she’d ripped off a strip of her shirt to tie her hair back because it kept getting in the way.

  Devix was at her back again, but his grip wasn’t as tough to break as it had been yesterday.

  But she’d failed again. The moment he managed to dodge around and grab her, she knew she’d lost, but he let her have a fighting chance. Only for a little while though before he made her reset.

  “Nix,” he rasped against her neck. Before Cara could react, he’d released her, but she still felt his words in her ear.

  He rounded her and a small part of Cara was pleased that his chest heaved just a little faster from the time they’d begun. She knew that he wore his kiddie-gloves during their training sessions when it came to her, but at least she’d tired him out just slightly.

  She hadn’t, on the other hand, managed to land so much as a scratch on him.

  It was frustrating and Cara felt that more in her veins than fatigue. Of course, she couldn’t expect to become a world-class fighter in the span of a couple sessions, but she’d thought that at least by then she’d managed to break away from him once.

  “Nix,” he repeated, in front of her now, standing only a few inches away so that she had to crane her neck up to see him. That was another thing…their session was a lot more hands-on than she’d expected.

  It was strange.

  Because…she liked his hands on her. Which she absolutely should not feel.

  But she did.

  Still, she tried to stare straight at his throat, not meeting his eyes, when he positioned her again.

  “Drive your force through your legs and your middle, not your striking arm. Your arms are weak in comparison,” he said, before stepping back. “Again.”

  That dreaded word.

  But she did as he commanded.

  And as always, he managed to dodge and get around her. He came up from behind and she was in his grasp again.

  Then, something different happened. Cara knew from their previous grapplings to keep her left arm down at her side and try to hold it away from her body so that he couldn’t restrain it completely. So that she had room to maneuver at least that arm, while he was distracted with the blade in her other hand.

  And it was worth a shot, retracting penis and balls or not, but she shot out with her slightly less restrained left arm, aiming for where she thought his genitals might be with all her strength.

  And Cara connected. Her clenched fist encountered a large, hard something in his pants. But it also encountered something softer beneath and she drove her hand there.

  “Vrax,” he hissed, his arms loosening just enough that she slipped from his grasp and rounded him.

  Eyes wide, Cara watched him drop to one knee, one arm planted straight on the ground to keep him from collapsing completely.

  Devix’s eyes were squeezed tight, back arched, teeth gritted.

  Some things, it seemed, were universal. And whenever a male got punched in the balls, it hurt.

  When the worst of the pain passed, Devix lifted his head and rasped, “That will not work on an Azatian.”

  Cara cocked a brow, excited that she’d finally—finally—escaped. She kind of felt like a bad ass, she wasn’t going to lie.

  “It worked on you,” she pointed out, refusing to think of how enormous that monster in his pants had been.

  It was suddenly too hot in the training room and Cara was entirely too aware that her nipples were peaked into tight points, showing through her bandeau bra and shirt.

  “I think we should end for now, maybe take up again later tonight,” she said, her voice slightly raspy. “Let’s end on a high note, hmm?”

  A sound came from Devix that might’ve been a sound of amusement. She watched as he pulled himself to his feet, back to his original towering height.

  “Tev,” he said, inclining his head. His voice still sounded strained, but then he said, “You did well.”

  Cara felt that praise settle in her chest and she gave him a soft smile. “Sorry about the junk punch.”

  Devix was obviously confused about the slang, but he understood well enough. “No, you are not, female.”

  Cara wanted to laugh. “You’re right. I’m really not.”

  What she was sorry about was that now she wouldn’t be able to stop wondering what his cock looked like. The curiosity made her itch.

  And she couldn’t help but think about it even when she was alone in her own room, stripping off her sweaty clothes to shower.

  He’d been hard, she thought, swiping her palm over the shower screen to turn on the warm water. His cock had felt like a rock and she’d wondered how she’d never noticed it before. When he was packing something that huge, how could she not have noticed it before?

  Cara shivered, even though the bathroom was filled with steam. Once in the shower, she couldn’t help but tra
il a hand down her stomach to rest just above her sex. For a brief moment, she debated with herself. She hadn’t touched herself since well before her abduction. The fact that she even wanted to should tell her something. That she felt safe, at least for the time being. When would she get time alone like this again?

  Experimentally, Cara trailed her fingers lower, letting out a shuddering sigh when she brushed her clit. It was swollen among her folds and when she dipped lower, she felt her arousal.

  She squeezed her eyes shut, blowing out a breath. She stopped, letting her hand fall away.

  Either, it had been a very, very long time since she’d gotten some and her body was rebelling…or she was sexually attracted to Devix, the alien that was hand-delivering her to the Azatian that bought her for his harem.

  Even she could see how fucked up that was.

  With her own little growl of frustration, she ignored her body’s needs and washed away the long training session. When she got out, she washed and rinsed out her clothes, before turning on the dryer, blasting the garments with heat, before redressing.

  She popped a travel ration in her mouth and chewed.

  She began work on another pair of pants.

  And every minute, she struggled not to think about him.

  * * *

  Their training session later that night was even harder than the previous two, mostly because now, Devix was in her head.

  Throughout the entire session, until Devix called the end in frustration, Cara was aware of him in a way she hadn’t been before. And yes, they’d had those two odd moments of awareness the day before, but now Cara knew what they meant.

  “You are in your mind again. I can feel it,” he’d accused. “Stop.”

  Which only flustered her more. By the end of the session, she felt like she was right back where she started, with no progress. And worse? She was horny.

  Which wasn’t a good thing because Cara was known to be impulsive.

  When the training session was over, she returned to her room. Another frustrated shower, another travel ration, more bone-aching soreness.

  Cara knew she should try to sleep, but that impulsiveness reared its head because she didn’t do that. With her hair freshly washed, in just a shirt that hung to the middle of her thighs, and a fur blanket she snagged off the bed, she returned to the bridge.

  And it was deja vu.

  Just like the night before, Devix was there with another goblet of whatever she’d tasted, in his lonesome, staring out into the darkness.

  His face was neutral when he saw her and Cara couldn’t tell if he was surprised to see her or he’d expected to see her. All he did was tap the console and her chair rose slowly from the opening in the floor.

  “I didn’t thank you for bringing me to my room last night,” she started softly, lowering herself in the seat. She snagged his goblet off the console, took a healthy chug, proud that she didn’t choke on it that time, before replacing it. It burned something fierce down her throat, so much so that she wondered if it would burn a hole straight through her stomach.

  “I could not rouse you,” he said, lifting a shoulder, his blue eyes glued to her. “I thought you would be more comfortable in your quarters than up here.”

  “So, is this what you do at night?” she asked him, feeling the alcohol already warm her blood. It was like she’d taken five shots of tequila in a row. “You sit up here and watch the stars and drink?”

  She swore Devix’s lips twitched. “Tev.”

  “Do you ever get lonely?” she couldn’t help but ask.

  Devix went quiet and stalled by taking a drink. “I am used to being on my own.”

  That’s a non-answer, she thought.

  “You said you live on a colony called Rozun,” she murmured, her head filling with a pleasant fogginess. “Tell me about it. Is it like Petrika?”

  He let out a sharp exhale from his nostrils. “Nix. It is the opposite of Petrika.”

  She waited for him to speak, taking the pause to steal another small sip from his drink. Anymore and she might be flat on her face come morning.

  “It is…” he paused, pondering his next word. Sometimes Cara got the sense that he wasn’t used to talking so much. If he was alone on this ship most of the time, than she guessed he probably wasn’t. She wondered if he thought all her questions and attempts at conversation were annoying…or if he didn’t mind them. “Rozun is a neutral colony. No war, no battles. It is separate from the rule of the Uranian Federation.”

  Uranian Federation? Cara had a feeling she had a lot to learn.

  Turning in the wide seat, she brought her knees up her chest before perching her chin on there. “Who lives there? People like you?”

  “Nameless mercenaries, you mean?” he asked quietly. Cara flushed slightly, wondering if she’d hurt him when she’d said that. She didn’t like the thought that she’d hurt him. “Some, perhaps. Rozians keep to themselves. We are beings that truly belong nowhere and no one asks questions or looks too closely. Family units from planets destroyed by war, reformed prisoners who want to die quietly, innocents punished by circumstance, or escaped slaves…they are all Rozians.”

  “And which of those are you?” she murmured, looking directly at him, wanting to understand him better.

  Devix returned her stare and there was an intensity there that made goosebumps cover her arms.

  “I just want peace,” he replied.

  And the only way he would get it would be repaying his debt to his employer…by handing her over.

  Cara nodded slowly and turned her gaze out to space.

  His next question caught her by surprise when he asked, his voice the softest she’d ever heard it, “What is it that you want, female?”

  Her first instinct was to say home. But then she thought about it, frowning.

  Instead, something different fell from her lips, “I just want to be free. I just want to be safe.”

  “I thought you would say Earth,” he told her, echoing her thoughts.

  “I’ve always been matter-of-fact about things,” she told him, her tongue relaxed from the alcohol. “I know it’s unlikely I’ll ever return to Earth. And freedom and safety are what Earth gives me, but they aren’t dependent on it. Familiarity too, but you can find that in any place you stay at long enough. Perhaps even Petrika,” she joked lightly.

  “There are some places you do not want to grow familiar with,” he told her, draining the goblet before rising. A strange disappointment swarmed her when she thought he might be leaving, but he only went to refill the goblet from a hidden cupboard she hadn’t noticed, before returning.

  He offered the goblet to her first and her lips quirked up. “Are you trying to get me drunk?”

  Something entered his eyes, a lightness when he recognized her teasings. “Here, you are free to do whatever you wish.” His expression sobered. “And you have my vow, female, that I would never take advantage of that.”

  Somehow, she’d already known that, or else she would’ve never been sitting there drinking with him in the first place. She’d grown up around enough rowdy men to know which ones to stay clear of and which ones would never lay a finger on a woman if they didn’t want it.

  “Thank you,” she said, taking another sip despite her promise to herself that she was done for the rest of the night. “I appreciate that.”

  Silence stretched between them but it wasn’t uncomfortable.

  Finally, she couldn’t help but ask, “Do you like living on Rozun?”

  Devix took a little while to answer but eventually he admitted, “I do.”

  “Then I’m glad for you,” she murmured.

  “How can you stand it?” he wondered, his voice edging on something. “How can you be glad for me when you know what I would do to secure my own freedom?”

  Cara leveled him a look. “Because one of us deserves to be happy out of this situation. Why should we both be miserable?”

  “Do not say that,” he rasped. “You know n
othing of what I deserve but it certainly is not freedom. I should still be suffering on Petrika. Perhaps that is exactly what I deserve.”

  Cara’s lips parted when she realized what she was witnessing. His guilt.

  “I’m a pretty good judge of character,” she told him. “I’ve steered clear of the kindest of faces because I knew they masked a devil. And I’ve befriended people that would make others do a double-take, but my instincts have always been right.” Devix tensed. “And my instincts tell me that you are not the villain you believe yourself to be.”

  “You do not know me,” he challenged.

  “I’ve seen enough,” she shot back. “If you belonged on Petrika, you wouldn’t have cut off my chains or left the room when I wanted to bathe. You wouldn’t have let me roam around the ship when I told you I hated to be locked in. You wouldn’t have given into my request that you train me. And you certainly wouldn’t have praised me when I punched you in the balls. If you were the villain you think you are, you would’ve have done any of that. You would’ve shoved your hand up my cloak from the moment we met, just like that Baquarian.”

  Cara realized, all at once, that she was treading in dangerous territory. Devix’s eyes were blazing and his shoulders were bunched so tight that she thought his muscles might snap.

  He growled quietly, “What makes you think I do not want to?”

  Cara inhaled a quiet, quick breath. But it wasn’t fear she felt. It was…unexpected desire.

  “What?” she whispered.

  He pushed out of his seat and Cara was more than aware of just how big he was.

  His voice was almost mocking, dipped with rage. “What makes you think I have not thought about fucking you? Fucking you so hard that you feel me in your cunt for the rest of your life span,” he rasped, his gaze steady. Her blood roared in her ears and she couldn’t look away. “Stop telling me you think I am better than that Baquarian filth. I am not. I am worse.”

  And with that, he turned to the elevator, leaving his goblet behind.

  She felt a multitude of emotions, but when he turned away from her, she gave a husky bout of laughter, dipped in anger. Her voice sounded like sandpaper when she said, “Again, you prove me right, Devix. If you were worse, you would have fucked me already.”