Page 24
Story: Aurelian Prisoner
7
Kitos
My cock surges. My body is feverish with desire. I force myself to shut the door – to get myself away from her, even thougheverycell in my body is commanding me to return to Allie andmakeher mine.
I stagger away from the brig and take my place at the gunnery station instead – peering out into the vastness of space as our vessel flies ever upward.
Trying to keep my mind off Allie, I focus on scanning the ground below instead – looking for any sight of pursuit. I know there won't be any. Spur didn't seem like a proud man – just a businessman. The good thing about a businessman is that he’ll generally know when to accept a loss.
I try… and yet Ifailto keep my mind from that tempting little minx in the punishment brig. As I sit at the gunnery station, I hear myself growl in frustration.
Gods-be-damned!I'msupposed to be the rational one of this triad! I'm supposed to be the one who cancontrolhis emotions…
So, why does every instinct in my body tell me to go back to that cell, rip Allie’s clothes from her tempting body, and justfuckher – until she eagerly moans out my name?
"Easy there."
It’s the reassuring voice of my leader, as he pilots us away from the planet below.
While I listen to his order, I know Daccia is hardly in control himself. I canfeelthe constant ache of lust through our Bond. The three of us are utterly lost. It's Allie’s fucking scent. She just smells...right.
We’re all trying to focus on our roles in this Reaver – and avoid distraction. For example, Daccia is ignoring the frantic, incoming messages from the planet down below – their security and border operatives demanding to know where we’re going in such a hurry.
Ha! If they want to question the presence of an Aurelian attack ship, they’re going to receive the wrong end of an Orb-Beam for their trouble. They lack the authority to question us – and the power to stop us.
To prove that point, our Reaver finally punches out of atmosphere.
Now we’re in the relative safety of space, I catch Hadrian striding down the hallway, fresh from the med-bay where the AI treated his punctured lung. An injury that could have killed him has been cured in mere minutes, thanks to our technology.
I turn in my seat and grab Hadrian’s arm as he passes.
"Where do you think you're going?"
Hadrian snarls: "To see her.”
I shake my head. Hadrian is the most impulsive of us three – and if he can’t control is lust, it’ll be up to Daccia and I to control it for him.
But then I sense his emotions through the Bond – and I realize it’s notonlylust driving Hadrian’s actions.
“I need to knowwhyshe did what she did to those Elites,” my battle-brother explains. He looks at me sternly. “Why the fuck would she steal so much – afortune– and yet still be living in poverty?"
I shake my head. "Noble intentions – but you know damn well that the moment you lay eyes on her, you aren't going to be focused onquestioningher."
Hadrian's eyes narrow. He’s taken my challenge.
My battle-brother squares off to face me. I look up – realizing that this might come to blows.
Slowly, I stand and straight up to my full height. I've got an inch on Hadrian – but he has forty pounds of extra muscle on me.
If it did come to blows, we’d be evenly matched – and sore for days afterward.
But that’s much better than the alternative. Hadrian doesn’t have my self-restraint. Given how she nearly mademecrack, I know Allie will play my battle-brother like a fiddle; and then we’ll all be lost.
Hadrian seems to sense my disquiet. He reaches over and grabs my arm – not in an act of aggression, but to emphasize his words.
"Come, brother – don’t deny it.Youfeel it, too. You're an analytical bastard – but evenyouaren't immune to the way she makes usfeel.” He steps forward, and hisses: “Don’t tell me you can’t feel it – deep inside your bones. Wehaveto know for sure…”
“Know what?” I ask – even though I already know what Hadrian is going to say.
Kitos
My cock surges. My body is feverish with desire. I force myself to shut the door – to get myself away from her, even thougheverycell in my body is commanding me to return to Allie andmakeher mine.
I stagger away from the brig and take my place at the gunnery station instead – peering out into the vastness of space as our vessel flies ever upward.
Trying to keep my mind off Allie, I focus on scanning the ground below instead – looking for any sight of pursuit. I know there won't be any. Spur didn't seem like a proud man – just a businessman. The good thing about a businessman is that he’ll generally know when to accept a loss.
I try… and yet Ifailto keep my mind from that tempting little minx in the punishment brig. As I sit at the gunnery station, I hear myself growl in frustration.
Gods-be-damned!I'msupposed to be the rational one of this triad! I'm supposed to be the one who cancontrolhis emotions…
So, why does every instinct in my body tell me to go back to that cell, rip Allie’s clothes from her tempting body, and justfuckher – until she eagerly moans out my name?
"Easy there."
It’s the reassuring voice of my leader, as he pilots us away from the planet below.
While I listen to his order, I know Daccia is hardly in control himself. I canfeelthe constant ache of lust through our Bond. The three of us are utterly lost. It's Allie’s fucking scent. She just smells...right.
We’re all trying to focus on our roles in this Reaver – and avoid distraction. For example, Daccia is ignoring the frantic, incoming messages from the planet down below – their security and border operatives demanding to know where we’re going in such a hurry.
Ha! If they want to question the presence of an Aurelian attack ship, they’re going to receive the wrong end of an Orb-Beam for their trouble. They lack the authority to question us – and the power to stop us.
To prove that point, our Reaver finally punches out of atmosphere.
Now we’re in the relative safety of space, I catch Hadrian striding down the hallway, fresh from the med-bay where the AI treated his punctured lung. An injury that could have killed him has been cured in mere minutes, thanks to our technology.
I turn in my seat and grab Hadrian’s arm as he passes.
"Where do you think you're going?"
Hadrian snarls: "To see her.”
I shake my head. Hadrian is the most impulsive of us three – and if he can’t control is lust, it’ll be up to Daccia and I to control it for him.
But then I sense his emotions through the Bond – and I realize it’s notonlylust driving Hadrian’s actions.
“I need to knowwhyshe did what she did to those Elites,” my battle-brother explains. He looks at me sternly. “Why the fuck would she steal so much – afortune– and yet still be living in poverty?"
I shake my head. "Noble intentions – but you know damn well that the moment you lay eyes on her, you aren't going to be focused onquestioningher."
Hadrian's eyes narrow. He’s taken my challenge.
My battle-brother squares off to face me. I look up – realizing that this might come to blows.
Slowly, I stand and straight up to my full height. I've got an inch on Hadrian – but he has forty pounds of extra muscle on me.
If it did come to blows, we’d be evenly matched – and sore for days afterward.
But that’s much better than the alternative. Hadrian doesn’t have my self-restraint. Given how she nearly mademecrack, I know Allie will play my battle-brother like a fiddle; and then we’ll all be lost.
Hadrian seems to sense my disquiet. He reaches over and grabs my arm – not in an act of aggression, but to emphasize his words.
"Come, brother – don’t deny it.Youfeel it, too. You're an analytical bastard – but evenyouaren't immune to the way she makes usfeel.” He steps forward, and hisses: “Don’t tell me you can’t feel it – deep inside your bones. Wehaveto know for sure…”
“Know what?” I ask – even though I already know what Hadrian is going to say.
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