Her breathing all but stopped. She wasn’t a virgin. She’d had lovers before—all carefully out of sight of her father after he’d murdered her first lover, the young bodyguard who had taken her virginity—but those trysts had all been short and hidden away. She’d never had the time to enjoy or even study a man’s body.
Until now…
Her eyes widened as he stroked himself, pulling on his cock far harder and rougher than she’d have thought comfortable. A low growl rumbled from his throat as he jerked harder and then smoothed the pre-cum that oozed from the flushed head back down over himself. Her nostrils flared, heat running through her body as he jerked himself off, mostly silent as though he didn’t want to wake her. She bit her lip as his hips got in on the action, his fist working faster. Then he stiffened, one hand on the door frame and the other holding his cock as he came, rope after rope of thick, white seed splattering over his carved stomach. The expression on his face was somewhere between torture and ecstasy, and instantly, she wished her hand was wrapped around him. That she’d brought him to that pleasure.
He straightened up and she slammed her eyes shut, pretending to be asleep again as he washed himself off and then recovered her damp towel to dry off. There was the rustle of clothes as he dressed for his shift on the bridge.
He paused by the door, his hand on the wall just by her head.
“I hope you enjoyed what you saw,” he murmured in a deep rumble. “Next time, feel free to join in…”
His little mouse had so been watching him when he was in the shower. He’d made sure to give her a good show and was rewarded with the scent of her arousal like fine perfume on the air.
The thought had Skinny smiling to himself as he made his way up one level to the bridge. With more members on the crew now, bridge duties had been split into shifts. So he, T’Raal, Tank, and Zero were on tonight. Being honest, the graveyard shift didn’t technically need the four of them, but T’Raal had learned to roster couples on together so he didn’t get complaints. Even Lizzie, who had absolutely no combat experience and who specialized in plants was being trained to watch the long-distance scanners.
He nodded to Tank and settled into the console next to her, bringing up the comms and ops controls on his screen. Normally Fin controlled ship ops, but Skinny was used to the system as well—enough to watch it overnight anyway.
“Is our guest all settled?” T’Raal asked from the command chair.
Skinny nodded, keeping the smug grin off his face. “Sleeping soundly. Must’ve been a long day for her.”
He’d intended to take her down to the galley, but when he’d gotten back from getting some clothes for her, he’d thought she was asleep. Instead, he’d left some field-cake bars on the desk and a re-heat mug of the drink humans called coffee. Personally, he thought the stuff was brown water and disgusting, but to each their own…
“Escaping her asshole father…” Tank commented, her eyes half on the console in front of her. “Yeah, I’d say so.”
He paid the human woman a little more attention. “Yeah? You know much about them?”
She snorted. “Everyone knows the Ingrassia family. They’re infamous across Terran space.”
“Oh?”
“Criminal family,” she explained, looking at him directly.
The few humans on the crew were used to being interrogated over all things to do with their culture. Before, the only source of information they’d had was Zero and even then, the big cyborg was sometimes off. Only slightly, but enough they often had to make sure to double-check info. But not with Lizzie, Sparky and Tank. The two women were from totally different areas of Terran space, Lizzie from Earth itself and Tank ex-military, so she’d been all over. Between them, their info was usually sound. Sparky’s info, unless it involved sex, violence or blowing something up, proved less so.
“Well, certainly the last two generations. The grandfather was apparently a founding member of the Tolorian Sector… but,” she shrugged, “the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. So he was probably dirty as well but behind closed doors. You know how it is.”
“Not Marika,” he pointed out.
Tank shrugged. “Female. She’s either in it up to her eyeballs or knew nothing about it. Either way, in those families, women don’t have a lot of say in anything. Legally, they’re property. It’s barbaric.”
He nodded. From the little he knew, he agreed. Human men didn’t deserve their women if they treated them that way. Settling his big body back into his chair, he checked over his readouts, making sure the ship’s operational systems were all running within tolerances. One of the port power spoolers seemed to be lagging a little, so he shot Red a message over the ship’s internal comms system to check it out in the morning.
The bridge descended into companionable silence, Zero tapping his fingers on the helm controls softly as the rest of them either ran diagnostics or otherwise occupied their time. Usually Skinny read through agriculture journals, keeping abreast of the latest breakthroughs in pharming, even though he probably wouldn’t ever run a farm again. Somehow it felt wrong to entirely turn his back, like a betrayal of his family and his parents who had spent so much of their life savings to get him his genetic mods.
Guilt hit hard and fast, as sharp and distinct as the day they’d died. They’d paid for enhanced strength, stamina and speed… all things that would have helped him turn away the bandits that had attacked their farm if he’d been on border patrol like he was supposed to have been. Instead, he was in the barn with Liiavas, the girl from the neighboring ranch, making out in the hay.
Those kisses had cost him his family. So why did he think he deserved a chance at happiness with Marika?
7
Marika hadn’t meant to fall asleep after Altav had left. She’d meant to doze and then speak to him when he got back in from his shift on the bridge, but when she woke, startled by a sound outside in the corridor, she realized he’d been and gone. The smell of coffee filled the air. Blinking blearily over the guard rail of the upper bunk, she saw a mug steaming on the desk with a plate of cake next to it.
Her stomach grumbled loudly, reminding her she hadn’t eaten properly for the last couple of days, and she clambered out of the bunk. Using the bathroom quickly, she picked up the coffee and breathed in the steam rising from the top of the mug with a small moan. Altav sure knew the way to a girl’s heart. Coffee and… she looked at the plate… chocolate cake in the morning. He might just have cracked the girl code. He was something else. All those muscles and strength… he could easily break her in two, but even though he’d blustered and threatened, she knew he wouldn’t actually hurt her.
Dropping into the hard chair, she set about demolishing the cake as she drank her coffee. She felt rested and refreshed, which was a new sensation for her. She rarely slept so solidly. Even in her own bed, she struggled, always aware and keeping an ear out for anyone entering her rooms—like Maxim or someone else her father had seen fit to sell her to without the benefit of a ceremony. She’d known the day would come eventually. One day, when she was too old or one of his many “mistresses” finally managed to bear him a son, she would be of no further use to him. He’d sell her off or give her to one of his cronies to pay off a debt or gain a favor.