Thorton looked at Peyton, who was setting Mary down on the floor. “So, looks like you brought lunch.” He grinned maniacally for a second, until Peyton sufficiently glared at him. Thorton waved, “I’m just kiddin’.”
Graham finally put her down on the way to the control room, but he brushed right by her as soon as he did. She spun around and looked at Peyton and Mary. “What’s going on? How did you get in on all of this?” she asked, gesturing at the ship around her.
“Peyton’s a moron,” Mary explained shortly.
“I know, that’s why I’m confused,” Ellie replied with a shrug.
Peyton rolled his eyes and led both girls by their arms towards the control room. “The commander and I have an understanding. He had me launch Jazeel’s emergency ship into orbit. That way, we had more time to make a clean get away. It should take a few more minutes for them to figure out that the emergency ship is unmanned, and that we escaped another way.”
“Isn’t Jazeel’s emergency vessel able to be remote-controlled?” Ellie asked, knowing quite a bit about the ship Peyton was referring to—she had done a lot of work on it.
“Yeah, that’s why we’re not on it,” Thorton replied, breezing by.
She hummed in response and walked up to Graham, who was typing something quickly into the main system. “What can I do to help?” she offered, still feeling ridiculous after being carried two kilometers. Not that Graham even broke a sweat.
“Sit down and be quiet,” he directed, pointing to a nearby chair.
“Yeah, right,” she looked at the chair as if it was an instrument of pain. Even her clothes she found irritating; sitting would kill her, she was sure.
“You’re distracting,” he added, leaning over the control panel she was next to, reading a screen before taking a seat there. He suddenly gave her bottom a hard smack. “Get.”
Her jaw dropped. Was she just swatted? She grabbed her bottom with both hands and glared at him with an indignant look.
He typed a few things into a nearby keyboard. “Are you still there?” he asked, obviously noticing her in his peripheral vision, because he didn’t turn to glance at her.
She flicked him off, not that he could get the full gravity of that, as he was from a different planet, but it made her feel slightly better for a moment until suddenly all the lights on the panel started flashing red, just as the ship was taking off.
“I didn’t do it!” she held up her hands to show that she wasn’t touching a goldarned thing.
Graham cursed in his own language, and then continued to mutter in it.
She saw the panel next to her light up, and it began to say that wire 119 was a dead wire; not that she could read a word of Frian; but she helped fix enough electrical problems that she knew most problems on site, and could recognize numbers.
She knew exactly where to find wire 119, however, which she continued to do as the horizon continued to darken as the ship elevated through the planet’s atmospheres. She scooted underneath the dashboard. “One nineteen, one nineteen…” she grumbled, her mood further dampened by the lack of light.
Suddenly, in the monitors overhead, she heard a Frian shal’ta travel through the specialized intercom, and it was, like the Frians themselves, not very hard to understand.
You do not have permission to enter orbit or hyper speed, the Frian on the other end noted. You didn’t have permission to take off. All aircraft must be landed immediately. If you do not comply within three minutes, you will be shot.
Thorton was suddenly crawling next to her under the dashboard. “I found wire 119,” she told him, as if it was a greeting. “Do you have some spare line?”
“Yeah,” he replied, sounding out-of-breath for some reason.
“Eleanor! What the hell are you doing under there? Go buckle up, or I’ll buckle YOU,” the threat in Graham’s tone above-head was undeniable; she didn’t have to see his expression.
“Graham, fuck off. Leave me alone and drive!” she growled, cutting the wire out with the pliers Thorton had handed her. “That man’s pushy,” she explained to Thorton, whose dark expression now seemed a little anxious.
Her fingers worked fast—this was actually child’s play. Though, most wiring jobs were child’s play to her. She had wired up more complicated speaker systems into the trunks of old Dodge Chargers that had given her more flak.
“It’s working now,” she heard Thorton say, who scooted his head up to the dashboard to check. “Good job, Kitten,” he said with a wink.
A voice above them clucked something in Swarii, and she could only assume it was that they needed to enter hyperspace right NOW, because Thorton swore again, and disappeared. Just as she was wondering what the hell his rush was, her foot was dragged immediately out from under the control dock and Graham hauled to her feet and sat down in his chair with her so fast, that it made her head spin.
Just as she realized that Graham was holding her down in his lap, they went into hyper drive.
She was drugged most of the journey between Earth and Jazeel’s planet, so she hadn’t remembered the awing sensation of hyper drive. It sucked. Nearly literally—it felt like she was literally getting sucked through a straw like a piece of strawberry at the bottom of a glass of lemonade, and then got spat back out a rocket-speeds.
There was no similar roller coaster ride that could describe it, except that it felt like, for a full minute, that not even gravity itself knew what was going on.
And then everything returned to normal.
She found herself clinging to Graham like a wild yet frightened animal. She was nearly ashamed of herself for her display, and would have slowly gotten off him if he hadn’t put his hand under her chin to keep her head up and focused on his own eyes. “You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah,” she wheezed.
He stood up quickly, and she nearly fell to the floor because of it. “Good,” he said brusquely. He looked around the room and announced. “Good job, men. Now, if anybody bugs me for the next hour, it had better be about life and death.” Suddenly, he took her hand and began to wheel her out of the control room.
“Wait—” Peyton was a few feet behind them, trying to unbuckle himself. “Where are you going with her?” he demanded. But he knew—the expression on Graham’s face was undeniable. He was going to have his way with Ellie; but the thought of it bothered Peyton—watching someone that he had taken under his wing like a sister about to let an alien between her legs with no formal wedding, no dating.
Graham barely took the time to glance at Peyton as he walked by him. “Believe me; it is none of your business where we’re going or what we do when we get there, got it?”
Peyton obviously didn’t like to be shrugged off. He finally got the harness unfastened and quickly went to block the door. “Where she goes, I go.”
“You have your own woman,” reminded Graham, nodding towards Mary. “This one is mine.”
Peyton didn’t move.
Graham suddenly grabbed the blaster off his utility belt and powered it on. He pointed it at Peyton’s head.
“Graham! Stop it!” Ellie said, trying to break free of his grasp.
“Step away, Muscles,” Graham growled threateningly. “I’m not in the mood to explain myself, and I’m not in the mood to dance with you.”
Peyton’s eyes shifted nervously, and he stepped aside and let them through the door.
“That was stupid!” Ellie lectured as Graham dragged her through the hallway.
Graham opened a door, looked in, and then closed it. “Is there ever a time where you are silent?” he asked her, then opened another door, looked in, and then tugged her into the room with him, shutting and locking the door behind him before he let her go and turned on the lights.
She looked around. They were in a bedroom. She suddenly felt a stinging paralysis in her legs. Heat rose to her cheeks as she decided the best place to look was Graham’s boots.
She halfway expected him to act out what they had done in the prison
; where he would tear her shirt into two pieces and start moving his lips down her neck.
Instead, he spun her around and bent her over his arm, which he had wrapped around her waist. Her toes were suddenly barely touching the ground as he, very sharply and very deliberately, delivered five smacks to the back of her pants.
She shrieked in surprise, and then in the startling pain caused by him affronting such a tender area. She was going to yelp, ‘why?’, but he began carrying out a very seething lecture unprompted.
“If you EVER talk to me like that in front of my crew again, I will take the hide off of you, do you understand me? And then I swear to GOD I will wash your mouth out with soap until that’s all you taste for a week. Did you think I don’t understand what you were saying? That your language is far too intricate to pick up subtle nuances?” He was spanking her harder at the end of the speech than at the beginning, as if he had only made himself angrier.
“I was helping, though!” she gasped. “And you were being a… not nice person!” she caught herself before she said, ‘asshole’. She thought she could get away with cursing, but apparently not.
He stopped spanking her and wheeled her around to face him before she could sufficiently rub her affronted cheeks through the miserable excuse for fabric that were her pants. “I’m not a nice person,” he informed her. “Not when I’m working, not when I’m trying to get us out of gun-range, and not when I’m dying with ‘the sickness’. I’m just trying to keep sane. If you know what’s good for you, you will learn to at least not embarrass me further and speak to me respectfully. Do you know what respectful means? Or do I need to write out the definition on your bottom for you?”
“I didn’t ask for this, you know,” she reminded curtly. “I didn’t ask to have anything to do with you. I didn’t even ask you to rescue me from Jazeel. I was prima! I was doing fine.”
“Oh, yeah. That’s what it looked like,” he doubted sarcastically, pulling off his black shirt, exposing his well-chiseled, though beat-up frame. He had deep blue, purple, and green bruises everywhere, scratches were also everywhere. “REAL fine. I bet you loved getting your tits squeezed in public and then beaten for anything.”
“What’s the difference between there and here?” she countered, putting her hands on her hips.
That question seemed to enrage him. “Because you’re my universe! I would never allow anything bad to happen to you no matter how angry I became with you! You’re my soul mate; without you, I’d go wallow about the universe, lonely and miserable my entire life. But to Jazeel, you’re on level with a favorite goldfish. If he found you floating dead at the top of a bowl, he wouldn’t think twice about throwing you out and replacing you. No tears, no remorse, no nothing. You’re an animal to him; even as a prima.”
She didn’t respond to his fiery monologue, just turned her head away from him as he continued to undress, clumsily ripping the boots off of his feet and then unbuckling and pulling off his pants.
She simply didn’t believe him. She couldn’t believe that any scientific anomaly would ever make anyone feel that way. She didn’t even feel that way, as far as she could tell. She wanted sex; but more like a respite than for emotional connection. He had to be wrong.
“Do you need help undressing?” he asked, cutting impatiently through the silence.
“No.” She lifted her head and faced him, hoping her frustration with him was obvious. “I just… HOLY!” She jumped away from him, realizing that he was already completely naked and that his… manhood… was staring right at her at full size and full height, rigid and stiff.
She closed her hands over her eyes, shocked. She just realized that she had never seen a real-live version of a man’s penis. She hadn’t even seen one on television or in the movies more than a glimpse-worth. So this monstrous thing in front of her, that she was surely supposed to take into her body, was quite a surprise.
She didn’t know exactly how long or wide it was, mostly because her mind blanked out when she saw it. Her brain simply shot her the message: TOO BIG. It was rare that a porn star would be so well-armed.
She was hoping the thing would just disappear when she took her hands away from her eyes.
“What’s wrong?” he sounded exasperated.
“This ain’t happenin’,” she said flatly, trying to feel her way to the door with her eyes shut tight. “I’m sorry, but… This isn’t even possible, I don’t think, so… Have fun… Without me...”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he sighed, making sure he was standing in the way of her exit. “Of course it’s possible.”
“Even if it’s possible, I don’t think it’s worth it.” She gasped when, reaching blindly out, she ran into his naked, slightly hairy stomach.
After she gasped, he simply grunted and picked her up, letting her writhe uncomfortably in his arms. “I don’t want this!” she told him. “Really—when we came close earlier today—or yesterday, whenever it was—I obviously didn’t know what I was heading for!”
“The union would have never happened if it was dangerous for you to mate with me,” he assured confidently, carefully laying her on the bed then he carefully tried to pry her hands from her eyes. “Only people that are completely compatible ever…”
“I don’t buy it!”
He sighed and said calmly, leaning over her, “Can you not be so deliberately horrible about this? I mean, I’ve looked forward to this moment my entire life; I’ll go slowly. I won’t hurt you. Can’t you just relax and enjoy this?”
“I looked forward to this, too, but like—with a guy I knew and had dated for awhile, and who had a REALLY nice, shiny red car, and who wouldn’t be scared off by my Dad’s shotgun… And, you know… One who wasn’t hung quite like a moose.”
“What’s a moose?” he feared he had to ask.
“An animal with a gigantic… you know...”
His face twisted with confusion for a second and then, the reason for her sudden extreme hesitation finally settled into his mind, and he laughed. “You think it’s larger than usual, then?” He waggled his eyebrows playfully, but continued to laugh.
“Stop teasing me,” she pouted. “It’s horrifying.”
She was adorable and innocent, he decided, even though she was extremely immature. Still, he guessed he was mature enough for the both of them. He grinned and put his mouth on hers. It was just as delicious as before, if not more so. It felt like every nerve in his body was reeling.
He began to fish his hand down to start unbuttoning her pants. She looked down to see how he was doing, and as soon as her neck twitched, he tilted her head back up at him. “Just don’t look down.” He grinned mischievously.
He kissed her again, longer and harder as he accomplished his goal and slid her pants down. He continued to undress her, her shirt, her bra… everything. Despite how ‘horrifying’ he was going to be, he could easily detect the pure desire within her, and not just by the firming of her nipples, but in her eyes, and her breathing.
“I’ll make up for not having the car—whatever the hell that is,” he added as he climbed onto the bed next to her, rotating his calloused fingers around a swollen nipple.
It didn’t take him playing with her for very long before she was pressing her face into his chest. Slowly, delicately, she ventured her lips out and started to kiss his chest. She licked her lips. He tasted good.
And his fingers were absolutely magical as one traveled slowly down past her belly button and started to massage her inner thighs. She wanted so much more; she was panting for his touch. But he was playing with her.
He slowly put a finger into her damp, tender orifice. She gasped in response. “Hm, you are tight…” He let her writhe against his hand, dipping his finger into her over and over again.
Suddenly, a look of concern came over her face and her muscles locked tightly on him. His eyes began to twinkle with delight, as hers gleamed with both confusion and embarrassment as she moaned, loudly, uncontrolled and unexpecting of how it w
as going to feel. She had played with herself for relief in the past, but it was nothing like this. “Oh, you are going to be so tired by the time we’re done,” he teased with his lusty, velvety voice in her ear. “Especially for someone who claims not to have the sickness. We never had the union? Is that what you were trying to say earlier?”
“Be gentle with me,” she whined, biting her lip as he continued on, picking up the pace with excitement.
And he was—oh, so gentle. So slow, so patient, and never failing to keep her relaxed as she settled upon orgasm after orgasm. By the time he put the mushroom head of his member against her opening, she was already exhausted, yet actually begging for it.
It hurt—oh, Lord! Did it hurt—but at the same time, her body ached for it. She had never felt so fulfilled as it slid inch by inch inside of her.
His expression was delightful—he felt so relieved—like he had been suffering great pain that only now was getting alleviated.
It was nothing she’d seen on any video—this was love making, not sex. This was like the melding together of two bodies, until finally Graham made a noise—a loud groan, just as he spilt his seed into her. At the same moment, as if it had spurred a chemical reaction, she cried out, her whole body clenching down on his member…
And suddenly the world came together again.
She didn’t know what had happened—it was like the warm veil that had been irritating her all day—which seemed like years, now— was suddenly lifted. Her fever was lifting quickly, leaving the chill of the room on her skin. She was Ellie again; she was back to normal; back in control.
Until he brushed her hair away from her face and kissed her ever so gently. “You’re mine,” he told her. It wasn’t said with glee, or with possessiveness. It was fact.
It suddenly felt like her brain was being combed by his words. The words were so simple, but for some reason she could find her brain revolving around it; shooting out signals to her nerves, everything in her brain wanted to shout out:
I AM yours!
But she clenched her teeth, and held back the words she so wanted to say. She pressed her head into his chest, her eyes quickly misting over as she tried to gather her thoughts, wondering why she was so ashamed by them.
Never Submit! The Swarii Brides, Book One Page 8