Assassin Mine

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Assassin Mine Page 3

by Cynthia Sax


  “Recipient is unavailable,” the machine chirped. “Wait to relay communication.”

  Shit. Sabria waited, rehearsing her message in her head, the last message she might ever leave for her brother. Musical notes tinkled, signaling the start of the recording. “Traz, Traz, Symrah III is being invaded. Don’t bother coming for me here. I’ll hitch a ride to another planet with the Balazoid assassin they call Dreck.” She touched the tracking device Darius had placed on the back of her neck. “Unless he kills me first. That’s a joke…I think.”

  The gunfire grew closer. The smell of death and explosives filled her nostrils. “Shit. Traz, please don’t do anything stupid. I’ll be safe.” A single-manned fighter ship lowered, its engines agitating the dust around her. “I’ll let you know as soon as I can where I am. If you can’t come for me, that’s okay. I understand.” A wall toppled, eliminating her exit. “I love you.”

  She turned and scurried back from where she’d came, leaping over bodies and debris. A slight form rushed toward her, heading in the opposite direction, his head bowed, his shoulders hunched, a rifle in his hands.

  Shit. Sabria yanked at a door handle. Locked. She hid in the doorway, pressing her spine against the metal door. Walk by me. Walk by me, she silently chanted.

  The boy paused directly in front of her, his pale Balazoid face lined with fear, the crotch of his black leather uniform wet, the stench of urine clinging to him. His hands shook, his rifle rattling against his armor.

  Sabria held her breath.

  He turned and time slowed, every second stretching. He met her gaze. His red eyes widened. He raised his rifle.

  I’m going to die. An eerie acceptance layered over Sabria. She thought of Traz, the overprotective brother she loved, and of Darius, a male she wished she’d fully fucked. Will he think of me?

  “Darius,” she whispered, yearning to say his name one last time.

  “What the—” The boy squeaked, his face contorting, his body jerking. His eyes widened and he fell to the stone, his limbs twitching.

  “They’re using child soldiers for this war,” a familiar voice scoffed. “Child soldiers to kill.”

  “Darius.” He saved me. Sabria stepped around the fallen boy, noting that he breathed. They both breathed. I’m alive. She smothered a giddy laugh. “You came for me.”

  Darius stood in the alley with his feet braced apart, his shoulders broad and wide, his face hard. He was dressed the only way she’d ever seen him dressed—for killing, the leather adorned with daggers and guns. Heated emotion blazed from his eyes. Her Balazoid assassin was furious and deadly and the most wonderful sight she had ever seen.

  “I warned you I would come for you.” Darius turned her around and pulled her arms behind her back. “You’re now my prisoner of war.” Cool metal encased her wrists, locking the awkward position in place. “You won’t speak or move unless I give you permission, understand?” He barked out the orders, no softness in his voice.

  Fear crawled up Sabria’s spine. Don’t make me kill you. His previous words rang in her ears. “I understand.”

  He spun her to face him and his gaze met hers. “I don’t think you do. This isn’t a game. The punishment for disobedience is death.” He removed a blade from a thigh sheath, unfastened his jacket and drew a red line across his pale chest with the deadly tip.

  “Darius.” She gasped, feeling his pain.

  “Dreck,” he corrected. “And I won’t warn you again, female.” He swiped his hand across the cut and pressed his fingers to her face, smearing warm blood over her skin. “If you speak in public, I’ll kill you.” He ripped the sleeve of her shirt, painting that exposed skin red also.

  He’ll kill me. Sabria nodded mutely, knowing deep down in her soul Darius would carry through on his threat.

  “Obey me and you might live.” He heaved her over his shoulder, his hard muscles pressed against her stomach, his hand gripped her thighs, and he ran down the alley, his footsteps soundless, his breathing steady. Sabria couldn’t see anything, her hair covering her face, her ass in the air, her life placed blindly in the assassin’s rough palms.

  I might live. She wiggled her fingers, wishing she clutched a dagger. I have to trust him. I have no other choice.

  Darius moved quickly, dodging bullets and weaving between obstacles, the cries of dying men and gunfire intensifying as they progressed. Sabria’s breasts slapped against Darius’ back, her nipples abused, stimulated by the rough treatment.

  He wants to kill you, not fuck you. Sabria pushed away her untimely arousal and concentrated on verbal clues, attempting to uncover his intentions. Where is he taking me?

  Wind whipped around them, the rumble of a ship’s engine deafening. Darius stalked up an incline and ducked under a doorway, his body folding into hers. The wind stopped and the air grew warmer. They were inside. Balazoids yelled, their unique voices barely audible. Metal smacked against metal, the noise diminished and the mesh floor under them moved.

  “Captain Grok.” Darius clipped his words, his tone cool.

  “Dreck,” a Balazoid sneered at Darius as the Federations often sneered at Sabria’s brother, contempt underlying the greeting. “I thought you’d be dead by now. It is your destiny.” Males laughed and Sabria glared at the floor, yearning to defend her assassin. “Did you bring my crew a breeder?”

  “Once I extract its information, you can have it…if it survives.” Darius gripped the waistband of her pants and lifted, the fabric squeezing her stomach. Sabria dangled, her head and legs lowered.

  It? Does he mean me? Sabria’s hair dragged on the metal floor.

  “Yes, if it survives.” The captain sighed. “I lost three breeders on the voyage here.” His nose whistled as he breathed in. “It is small and has lost blood. You handled it too roughly, Dreck. I’ll note that in your file.”

  “Note that I will handle it more roughly.” Darius sat with a thump and settled Sabria facedown over his lap, her breasts crushed against his thighs, her ass raised in the air. Her face heated, her position humiliating and precarious. “If it doesn’t give me the information I need.” Darius slapped her pant-covered ass hard, and she jerked, forced to take his abuse silently, pain radiating from the point of contact.

  The other Balazoid chuckled. “You do know how to deal with the primitives, Dreck, being one yourself.” Darius rubbed his hand over her curves, massaging the coarse fabric into her warmed flesh, his touch stimulatingly rough. “What did it do to warrant the interrogation?”

  “It unlawfully accessed files.” Darius walloped her ass again, the sound echoing in the small, dark chamber. Sabria bit down on her bottom lip and swallowed her cries, pain flowing into an even more humiliating pleasure, her pussy dripping with moisture.

  “Federation files?”

  Darius slid his hand between her thighs and stroked her fabric-covered pussy, tormenting her, teasing her. “Balazoid files.”

  “Whose files?” the captain demanded.

  “Mine.” Darius landed another blow on her beleaguered ass. Sabria moaned softly, her body humming with need.

  “Yours.” The captain’s laugh held more triumphant than levity. “This is why we use Drecks as assassins. You’re disposable. The question is…should we wait for the Federation to eventually dispose of you, risking another information breach, or should we dispose of you ourselves?” The threat hung in the air.

  There are no old Drecks. Sabria had noted that unusual fact when she’d infiltrated the Balazoid system, looking for Darius’ files. I won’t be the excuse they use to finally kill him. She raised her head, preparing to take the blame for her own mistake.

  “That is unnecessary.” Darius slapped his hand between her shoulder blades, pushing the air from her lungs. “I’ve contained the breach and I’ll extract the information from this Federation operative. There’s no need for further action.”

  The ship shuddered. “I disagree,” the captain retorted. “You’ve served your full purpose in our cause. I find
comfort in knowing that even if the council doesn’t dispose of you, our enemy soon will.”

  Darius growled softly and yanked Sabria upward by her pants’ waistband. Doors hissed open. He slung her over his shoulder and stomped into an adjacent ship, the doors closing behind them.

  “Ship, engage,” he barked. The ship hummed to life, the floor rolling under them.

  He didn’t set her on her feet and he didn’t remove her restraints. He moved with her through a brightly lit corridor, his gait fast and smooth, his spine straight. Sabria remained silent, watching his ass cheeks clench and unclench under his formfitting body armor, waiting for direction, not wishing to anger him more by speaking.

  “My unnatural obsession with you almost got me killed today.” Darius’ voice was chillingly flat. “That’s unacceptable.” They turned into a small room and he lowered her feet to the tiled floor, sliding her body against his.

  “But now, you’re my breeder.” He pushed her hair away from her face. “And after I find release within your pussy, these feelings will go away. I’ll no longer want what I can’t have and my life will become manageable once more. Everything will return to normal.” He paused. “You may speak, female.”

  Female? Sabria glanced around the room. The walls were a glaring white, the space empty except for a large silver metallic chair, the armrests and stirrups outfitted with restraints. A breeding chair. She swallowed hard. “I thought Drecks couldn’t have breeders. It’s forbidden,” she repeated what he had told her.

  “Ahhh…but I don’t have you officially as a breeder, do I?” Darius removed the restraints from her wrists. She rubbed her tingling hands, the blood rushing into her fingers. “You’re my prisoner of war and, as prisoners of war die all the time, no one will know you served a different purpose.” His face was grave, his lips flat.

  He’ll kill me when he tires of me. Sabria nibbled on her bottom lip. Unless that never happens. “I’ll be your breeder, Darius.” She patted his chest and he winced. “Shit. I forgot. I should bind your wounds.” She examined Darius’ leather-clad torso, seeing no traces of blood. “That cut—”

  “—is healed. Balazoids heal quickly.” He pulled a dagger from a sheath. “I don’t require medical attention, especially not from you. You’re a female and the only thing Balazoids need from females is release.”

  His arrogant tone incensed Sabria. “And you’re a woman-hating asshole,” she muttered under her breath. She curled her fingers into fists, struggling to control her temper, wanting to slap him, not seduce him.

  “Balazoids also have superb hearing.” Darius’ lips twitched. “Hold still.”

  She inhaled sharply as the dagger descended. With lightning-fast strikes, Darius sliced her clothing into strips. The fabric fell to the white-tiled floor, leaving her naked, not a single scratch etched on her skin.

  She exhaled, her nipples puckering in the cool air, and his gaze lowered to her chest. Darius’ physical response to her nudity was immediate and unmistakable, his body armor hiding nothing, his long, thick cock pressing against the skintight leather.

  He leisurely examined her, his gaze possessive and proud, his ownership of her clear. Sabria suppressed the urge to cover her breasts and her mons, leaving her hands by her side, allowing him to look his fill.

  The silence stretched. He didn’t touch her, his body remaining frustratingly out of reach. Sabria waited and waited and waited until her patience snapped.

  She cupped her breasts, lifting them, squeezing them, blatantly offering her curves to Darius. “What do you think?” Sabria gazed at him, yearning for more reassurance. “Am I fuckable?”

  “Balazoids don’t fuck. They find release.” Darius circled her as a predator would circle his prey. “And all we require for release is a pussy.”

  “I have one of those.” She played with her breasts, rolling her nipples between her fingers and thumbs, pinching the tips until they whitened, the pain gratifyingly sharp.

  Darius grazed his fingertips over her ass and she quivered, the contact sublime. “I had to beat you.” His voice lowered. “It was expected.” He gently skimmed her abused skin, reviving the sweet burn.

  Sabria moaned softly and bent over to give him better access to her body. “It made me hot.” She gripped the cool metal chair as he explored her ass, palming her cheeks, sliding his long fingers along her crevice, circling her puckered hole.

  “Feel how wet I am, Darius.” She widened her stance and he slipped one hand between her thighs, locating the source of her need. He silently stroked her, his fingers gliding over her pussy lips, drawing more moisture from her core.

  “That’s how ready I am for you. How much I need you.” She arched her back, presenting her ass to him. He pushed a thumb into her asshole, prying her apart, the delicious stretching of her clenched channel making her wiggle. “Yes, that’s it.” She panted, needing him deeper. “Fuck my ass with your fingers. Prepare me for that big cock of yours.”

  Darius stilled, one of his thumbs in her ass, the fingertips of his other hand pressed against the folds of her pussy. “Balazoids don’t fuck…find release in asses.” He removed his thumb.

  “Fine. Don’t fuck my ass.” Sabria stifled a scream, aggravated by his numerous rules, impatient with his lack of movement. “Take my pussy instead. That’s allowable, isn’t it?”

  “I’m a Dreck. None of this is allowable,” Darius admitted, everything he’d ever known cast into turmoil, his need for her and her alone conflicting with his conditioning.

  This need is unnatural. She’s one breeder of many. He caressed Sabria’s hot pussy, unable to stop touching her, her skin delectably soft and inviting. Balazoids don’t touch their breeders. They don’t care. He inhaled deeply, her scent delicious, her musk filling his nostrils.

  “I require release.” Darius ignored her pink, puckered asshole and concentrated on her pussy, plunging his fingers deeper inside her, relishing how she clenched down on him. “Release will allow me to regain focus.”

  “Oh, yes,” she moaned, the sound hardening his cock even more. “Find release in me, Darius. Fuck me hard and fast and fill me with your cum.”

  Darius gritted his teeth, Sabria’s instructions stripping away another layer of his control. “Breeders sit in the chair,” he recited, striving to regain his authority over her and his unnatural passions. “It’s the Balazoid way.”

  “We’ll fuck in the chair next time.” She pushed back on him, taking his fingers farther inside her tight entrance. “You have me as your breeder. Fuck me against the wall, on the floor or in the shower. My pussy is yours whenever, wherever you want it.”

  “You should be silent, female.” He pulled his fingers from her pussy, unfastened his pants and peeled the leather off his moist skin, perturbed that he needed her so badly.

  “Is that a command?” She glanced over her shoulder, her beautiful face covered with his dried blood, Darius’ primitive marking of her a source of tremendous satisfaction.

  He didn’t answer her question, not wishing to stem her stream of words, having spent too much of his life in silence.

  Darius stroked his shaft, pulling violently hard on his cock, punishing his body for its betrayal and preparing himself for a quick release. Sabria rubbed her pussy as vigorously with her slender fingers, her scent filling the room, her skin glistening with moisture.

  “Guide that big, thick cock into me.” She panted, her chest heaving, those beautiful breasts he wouldn’t allow himself to touch rising and falling. “Before I come without you.”

  “Come?” Darius prodded at her entrance with his cock head.

  “Find release,” she clarified. He pushed into her and grimaced, her pussy feeling too good. Fuck. She’s tight. Her juices oozed around his shaft, dripping between his balls.

  “That’s it.” Sabria cooed encouragement as his cock wedged deeper and deeper inside her, his broader tip squeezed by her erotic embrace. “Hold on to my hips.” Darius obeyed her instructions, clasping her
hips, her curves yielding under his palms, the forbidden touch exciting him. “Use them as leverage.”

  “Too slow,” Darius growled. He thrust forward, slamming his cock into her up to his base, and Sabria screamed.

  “One,” Darius counted, grinding his teeth, her pussy hot and wet and tight, gripping him tighter than any simulator breeder’s pussy ever had. He rubbed his thumbs into her soft skin, pressing his hips against the curve of her reddened ass, their bodies fitting together perfectly.

  “Give me some shallow pumps and no counting.” Sabria’s face showed signs of strain, her mouth pulled flat. “This is for me. They aren’t part of your three thrusts.”

  For her. Darius rocked into her body, moderating his rough passions, mindful of how fine and delicate her bones were. Her grip on his cock eased and he thrust harder, deeper.

  “Yes, yes, yes,” Sabria cried out, her pleasure noises adding to his enjoyment, an enjoyment he shouldn’t be feeling. She pushed back on him as Darius drove forward, smacking their bodies together, the satisfying sound escalating his desires.

  “Ride me, Darius. Ride me hard.” She undulated under him, her moisture coating his cock and her scent engulfing Darius, the combination crazing him. He slammed into her again and again, desperate to please her.

  “Touch me.” Her voice rose. “Cover my breasts with your big, strong hands.”

  Ignoring decades of conditioning, Darius leaned over his little female and hooked an arm around her torso, gripping her soft breasts. “My breeder.” He squeezed her curves, her hard nipples an enticing contrast to the supple flesh surrounding them.

  “Ohhh…” she moaned. Her hair rippled around her shoulders, the long tendrils as black as open space, and her skin glowed, golden and warm and alive. Entranced, Darius rubbed his cheek against hers as they rutted, basking in her heat, her passion open and uninhibited.

  “Darius.” Her erotic noises increased and her pussy walls tightened around his shaft. “Count, damn it. I’m coming.”

  Release. Darius pulled out to his tip and plowed into her, his balls slapping against her ass, his forceful drive swaying her body.

 

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