“My headache is gone,” Parisa said. She sounded amazed.
“Mine, too,” he said in a similar awed tone.
She cast an erstwhile glance at the flowers. “Are they super drugged flowers, do you think?”
“Perhaps.”
“We’ve always thought that the flower fragrance was an aphrodisiac, but maybe it’s stronger. Or maybe it’s addictive. Without a steady supply, the headaches come.”
“Probably.”
“I’ll admit I never liked the flowers until today.”
“Neither did I.”
She sucked in a deep breath. Pushing it out slowly, she then said, “At least now we know what it feels like when we don’t have their bright, cheery presence in the room.” The words “bright, cheery presence” she’d said with the exact same sarcasm he experienced.
“Yes. I become a headache-ridden, angry beast and promptly violate you against the nearest wall of our quarters until I’m satisfied.”
“Meanwhile, I become a demanding, hag-like shrew, unwilling to take no for an answer. Because, trust me, if you hadn’t pushed me against the wall, I would have flattened you onto the bed to have my way with you regardless of your feelings on the matter.”
He stared at her hard, seeking the redemption she wanted to give him. “Is that the truth?” he asked.
She looked solemnly into his eyes. “I swear to you, that it is.”
William nodded and pulled her into his arms. “So then I guess you also weren’t craving Vidarr’s cock instead of mine, right?”
She laughed against his collarbone. “No. I was definitely not craving Vidarr’s cock instead of yours.” Parisa hugged him tight, but didn’t say anything else. She was probably thinking about what she always did when fidelity questions came up. Her remembered dreams of the man with the tattoo on his chest. The man she couldn’t remember, except that they’d had extraordinary sex in that recollection. William couldn’t compete with her past.
If the tattooed man ever showed up seeking her, William knew it would be difficult, but he’d relinquish her. But only to the man with the tattoo on his chest though, and no other. He was the only man that William knew she worried about. Just like he worried about the woman in his dreams or memories or whatever they were.
“What do you suppose Vidarr and Sapphire’s story is?” Parisa asked quietly. He appreciated the change in topic.
“I suspect they were chained together like we’ve been. I found it interesting that Vidarr somehow made a deal to keep her out of the arena. I’d love to do that for you.”
“No. Absolutely not.”
“Why?”
“I want to be the overriding incentive for you to continue winning.”
“And you think I won’t try if you aren’t risking your life, too.”
“That’s exactly what I think.” She pulled back to gaze into his eyes, as if staring could glean the truth from him with a simple look. William smiled internally. She might be right. Subconsciously, he probably did try harder because she was in the ring. If she weren’t chained to him day to day, truthfully, it would be easier for him not to care.
William used her ploy and changed the subject himself. “Obviously, Lord Harcourt planned on Vidarr winning today.”
She nodded, adding, “And likely why our room wasn’t set up for us to return victorious.”
“Exactly.”
“I wonder what deal was offered to Sapphire to be spared the danger of the arena fighting?”
“Likely something equally depraved. Perhaps she has to share Lord Harcourt’s bed in order to remain safe.”
Parisa pursed her lips, pondering his guess. “I don’t think so.”
“Why?” he said distractedly. If Parisa would have to share Lord Harcourt’s bed, that would make him even more livid than picturing her with Vidarr.
“Because Vidarr isn’t going to fight anymore. Lord Harcourt makes all his money on the hordes of people who wager on the arena battles. What else could Vidarr do to make his lordship as much money?”
“I don’t know.” William didn’t disagree with her, he just didn’t care all of a sudden. The scent of the flowers was making his cock hard again. Although the sex against the wall had been exhilarating and inordinately gratifying, he was already picturing her naked, straddling his cock, after impaling herself and riding him like a stallion at the races. As if with a mind of its own, his hand traveled south to cup one of her ass cheeks.
Parisa inhaled deeply. “Oh my. I guess I know what you want now.” She placed a soft kiss at the base of his throat.
“Do you?”
“I do.”
“Are you going to give it to me?” He had no aspirations beyond what she was willing to do. If she wasn’t in the mood, that was perfectly fine. He was relieved not to have the crazed must fuck feeling like he’d had earlier.
“Perhaps.” She kissed his throat again, and added, “What if I say no?”
William dropped his forehead to touch hers. “Then I’ll go to the privy space, take myself in hand, and stroke madly until nature takes its course.”
A low, sexy, and very amused sound bubbled from her throat. “One of these days I’d like to see that, but not to worry. For today, I am going to give you what you want. In fact, you can take two steps backward, and I’ll just climb on top, sink myself down over your rigid cock, and ride you hard until we’re both satisfied…again.” This time the tip of her tongue slid across his throat in the exact place she’d been pressing soft kisses.
His cock promptly throbbed against her belly in response.
“I believe your cock is in. What about you?”
“Oh, I can’t wait to be in.” Your tight pussy.
He clutched her firmly to his chest and moved them toward the bed. Less than thirty seconds later, they were both naked, and Parisa had impaled herself on his pulsing cock.
William gazed at the totality of her perfection. The sway of her breasts, the tumble of her long, luscious dark hair, spilling over each shoulder, the way her fingers clutched his shoulders to help ease her hips up and down, reaching for the heights of pleasure that all combined into…well, flawlessness.
“I love the way you feel,” she whispered as her hips moved down, her pussy swallowing his cock completely.
“I’d have to agree.” William palmed her breasts, squeezing as she pushed down and then up. Down and then up, again. He brushed his thumbs over her taut nipples, watching carefully as she brought herself closer and closer to fulfillment.
He reached between them to stroke her clit, thereby speeding up the process. All the while he listened to her moan when his cock was buried. He watched her move on him over and over. And he reveled in the sensation her hot, slick pussy offered each time she rose and fell.
After so much time together, he recognized that her release was close. Staring at her as she fell over the edge of satisfaction was a treat he would always carry with him from now on. Whatever happened. Wherever he ended up, he’d always remember how Parisa looked when she climaxed.
“Will,” she said, her breath rushing out, her hips slamming down as she hit that oh so satisfying pinnacle.
He wasn’t far behind, gripping her hips, thrusting upward into her body, enjoying that her gratified pussy now squeezed a powerful climax from him as well. His eyes slammed shut as utter and complete pleasure swarmed his body. From the tip of his cock buried so deep, to the ends of his fingers and toes, he was satisfied and delighted and more and more in love with her with each passing second.
The moment he growled and slammed deeply, Parisa bent over, draping her limp, satisfied body over his. He wrapped his arms around her torso, squeezing her tight to his frame. The two of them fell asleep still softly panting, in the afterglow of their lovemaking.
This time it had been just that. Not violent. Not tainted with dubious consent, but as making love should always be.
William inhaled Parisa’s unique scent in his lungs, looking forward to snuggling w
ith her as they rested. But after less than five minutes in each other’s arms, William suddenly heard a noise. He lifted his head to listen.
The noise came again. What was that? It came again only louder.
Clack. Clack. Clack. The stone tapper was back. He hadn’t struck stone to interrupt them since that first night.
Parisa sighed against him, but also didn’t wake when he disengaged and left her alone on the bed.
He moved quietly into the other room. Clack. Clack. Clack.
A loud whisper came through the same place as before, asking, “Gladiator. Are you there?” William couldn’t tell if it was the same voice or a new one. He guessed it wasn’t important.
“Who are you?”
“That doesn’t matter. I have information for you. Something you might want to consider.”
“Oh? Why should I trust a whispered voice I can’t see?”
The voice ignored his question, responding with, “Vidarr is out of the gladiator arena.”
William rolled his eyes, saying in a surly tone, “I know that already.”
“But do you know where he’s going?” the voice asked as if he knew something William didn’t.
He hated this whisperer, making him doubt the plan he had. Twelve battles left in the arena, after twenty-eight hard-won days in the ring. “He’s going somewhere with a woman named Sapphire.”
There was long quiet moment before William heard an amused sound, like a half-cough, covering a surprised laugh. “Yes. That’s right. But do you know where they are going together?”
Fuck you. “No.”
“Maybe you should find out.”
“Tell me. Why the fuck should I care where Vidarr goes with Sapphire?”
The same muffled creaking noise, interrupting the odd conversation just like the last time, came again from the other side of the wall where the whispering stranger taunted him. And once again, the sound of a large door banging open came immediately on the heels of any insight he might have gained from this quiet intruder.
William held his breath. This time he heard Gruvat’s voice clearly. “What the fuck are you doing in here, Gambler?”
There was more shuffling and scuffling sounds, but no more whispered inquiries or information or any response from the whisperer.
Gruvat said, “Get out right now, or else I’ll make you get out.”
There was still no response from the person Gruvat had called Gambler. The exact same sound of a door slamming shut came again. William sat quietly in the privy room, contemplating what Mr. Whispering Gambler had said. Why would it be important for him to discover where Sapphire and Vidarr had gone? At least beyond the obvious, that they weren’t still chained together or fighting in the gladiator arena anymore.
He and Parisa obviously hadn’t taken the time to discuss any possibilities of where the other couple could have gone, or what their past or future comprised of, but William had tucked away a couple of ideas before they’d left the battle ring. Unfortunately, the moment they’d left the arena, he’d developed the acute, splitting headache and the vile bastard attitude to go along with it. He shook his head to dissolve the contemptible memory.
The only consideration as far as William was concerned had to do with whether or not this new mystery location would be worse than the gladiator’s ring.
According to what William had gleaned after today’s beasts had been eliminated, Vidarr himself obviously hadn’t initially chosen whatever this other inducement was. Perhaps there was a very good reason for that. Then again, after a few months away from the woman he obviously wanted, he’d renegotiated.
Perhaps if Parisa wasn’t chained to him he’d make different choices, too. She’d been afraid he wouldn’t fight as hard if she weren’t in the arena, too. But that wasn’t the whole truth.
For as much as he loved Parisa, he also didn’t want to leave her alone here. He didn’t trust anyone else with her wellbeing, even after the recent incident he refused to rehash.
And if she didn’t stay chained to him day by day, he’d still fight to stay alive so as to ensure she remained safe. In fact, his ultimate dream was the destruction of this whole fucking place. Then he could escape with Parisa to a better life. One without battles, carnage, and life or death choices every damned day.
Hour by hour, day by day, and most especially after each hard-won victory, he thought about the coming promised day when Lord Harcourt would release them from the gladiator ring. The moment after he’d completed and been victorious in forty battles, they’d be free. Would he be disappointed in whatever life he’d had before this existence? Would Parisa? Did he want to find out the hard way that somehow any life beyond this arena was ultimately a worse choice?
Could anything be worse than this? Possibly.
Hellfire and damnation came to mind.
Begging the biggest unanswered question of the day—and one the Gambler thought imperative he should figure out—was where had Vidarr gone, and was his second choice truly a viable way to go for him and Parisa?
Is the devil I know better or worse than an unknown future?
William went back to bed, snuggled up against Parisa, but didn’t sleep well as he pondered his difficult possible choices for the rest of the night.
Chapter Ten
Jeremy perched comfortably in the Stargazer’s captain’s chair, vowing not to leave this seat longer than a couple hours at a time, and only for the purposes of chasing away the initial stages of sleep deprivation.
His regular first officer, Drew Maxwell, entered the command deck. Surprisingly, he’d agreed to accompany Jeremy on this highly secret mission headed straight to the border of the Forbidden Zone and beyond, giving him six for his skeleton crew instead of only five.
Jeremy was inherently grateful Drew had volunteered, but hadn’t planned to ask him. He should have known his friend would insist on accompanying them.
Drew had been the only person he’d told where they were going or that they had Gray’s silent approval. If the others suspected—and they probably did given the secrecy of the flight plan—they’d held their tongues and any negative, unhelpful attitudes in check.
Jeremy appreciated their confidence in his ability to pull off this feat of daring. In fact, he’d expected Drew to balk or at least try to talk him out of the crazy plan. Instead, he’d seen the sudden pop of desire to explore a prohibited area promptly unfold quickly in Drew’s eyes. He’d volunteered on the spot to accompany him and do his best to keep Jeremy out of trouble.
He smiled in memory of his friend’s enthusiasm. Drew maybe better than anyone understood his need to find Angelica. His first officer had suffered a horrible loss once upon a time. Although, there was no disputing that his lover was gone forever. She’d died in Drew’s arms. Jeremy had been there to witness the heart-wrenching scene firsthand, during that long ago debacle. He shook off the disturbing memory. The one where they’d been notified way too late to reasonably be able to save her. Without any words spoken, Drew would always back his play to find Angelica, even if what he was doing was illicit.
“Ready for a little bit of shut eye, Captain?” Drew asked, looking much more chipper than Jeremy had felt in quite a while. The mission to the Forbidden Zone was already taking a heavy toll, and he wasn’t even there yet.
Jeremy glanced at the clock on the command deck’s hand-held computer, realizing more time had passed than he realized. “Guess I am. Time sure flies when you’re headed to an outlawed place.”
Drew grinned. “I’d expect so.”
“Any problems I need to address anywhere on the ship before I drop face down into my bunk for the next four hours?”
“Not that I know of. Bergeron seems well suited for the bowels of engineering. He hasn’t given me any grief over the engines running at full speed, but he’s also been down there since we launched out of Bravura. He’s probably sleeping down there.”
Jeremy nodded. If Kerchner had been the engineer on this mission, he knew the man
would have balked at letting the engines run so hard for the entire journey to District Six.
He was all about safety. Usually, Jeremy was too, but not this time.
They’d been pushing the Stargazer at full power since sneaking away from Bravura two days ago. Normally it took a solid six days to reach the Fulchrome system from Bravura running the engines at seventy-five percent. Jeremy planned to cut their journey down to four and a half days running the engines at full speed ahead.
As of about an hour or so ago, any messages sent after them from Bravura would likely be lost in the constant space static of this part of the galaxy. However, Jeremy planned to ignore any directives to return to Bravura as not ever received anyway.
“I don’t care where he sleeps as long as he keeps the engines running smooth as glass.”
Drew pushed out a sigh, signaling that something else was bothering him.
“What?” Jeremy asked.
His friend shrugged. “I obviously don’t know Bergeron very well, but is it just me or does he seem a little bit off?”
“Off?”
Drew looked at the ceiling and shook his head. “Maybe off isn’t the right word. I don’t have any factual data to point to, but it seems like he’s trying too hard to make me like him. Or possibly that he’s hiding something I won’t approve of and the intensity of his trying too hard to win my affection just rubs me the wrong way.”
Jeremy’s brows narrowed. “Maybe you need the extra shut eye more than I do.”
Drew laughed. “That could be true. I just want to make sure he’s doing what we think he is down in engineering.”
Jeremy didn’t tell Drew that he agreed with him to a certain extent, because Jeremy thought his level of discomfort came from Bergeron’s initial zeal when he volunteered to join them and help find Angelica, but not because he had any feelings for her. Bergeron had gone well out of his way to assure Jeremy of his platonic feelings every single time he saw him. After only two days and a handful of chance meetings onboard, it had already gotten annoying.
Sexual Memory [Dark Colony 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 11