Page 6

Chapter

Five

S ome excitement this was turning out to be. The adage be careful what you wished for certainly came to mind. Paris’s last coherent thought was crying herself to sleep. She remembered experiencing the most delicious dream. Warm hands had massaged her flesh, heating it to near burning.

Fingers delved into her hot slick channel, almost taking her to a climax, but denying her, leaving Paris with a desolate feeling. More than anything she craved total fulfillment.

When she woke up, Paris was no longer chained to the bed, nor was she naked, but she might as well have been. The metal bra, cool against her skin, was tight and pinched her breasts uncomfortably. Thong underwear was barely covered by a blue silk loin cloth. She looked like a chick in chain mail from one of those really bad sci-fi B movies.

Who had dressed her in this obscene outfit?

Instead of the large soft bed she’d fallen asleep on, she was in a chair, her hands positioned on the arm rests. She looked around her. The odd room had the appearance of some kind of mad scientist’s lab, with all its weird looking gadgets. The walls were covered with monitors.

When she attempted to stand, restraints popped out of the arm rests and quickly locked over her wrists, holding them in place. Her bonds tightened the harder she struggled. What kind of device was this? Had she been brought to a high-tech torture chamber? And where was the barbarian?

She gasped when her restraints gripped her harder. Only when she relaxed her body did they loosen—slightly. “Help me! Please someone help me!” Paris screamed, even though she had the distinct impression no one would come to her aid. She still had to try. “Please, someone!”

She would not cry. No matter what she wouldn’t let that bastard win. Screaming at the top of her lungs and twisting around in the chair, she tried to get someone’s attention, but that only served to make her throat ache and wrists hurt.

Suddenly, the monitors came on and they all showed her. What was going on?

The large screen in front of Paris showed her close up. Heat surfaced in her cheeks. To see herself so up close and personal like this was embarrassing. The way her hair was tousled, coupled with the obscene outfit she wore, she looked like a harem girl.

Is that what the hunky alien had in mind? Put her in some kind of harem? If that was what he thought, he had another think coming. Realizing it was futile to try escaping from the tight bonds, Paris calmed down and thought of her next course of action.

Just then, the object of her earlier contemplation walked into the room. He was dressed similarly to the way she’d first seen him in, but this time he was bare-chested.

Her heart fluttered. Damn. She wasn’t supposed to be happy to see him. He’d kidnapped her for crying out loud.

A smile crossed his harsh face, but it wasn’t one of humor. The expression in his eyes was hungry and lustful and Paris couldn’t fight back the shiver that spread through her body. She licked her suddenly dry lips.

Maybe if she tried to reason with him, he’d let her go. Just as soon as the thought crossed her mind, she realized it was wishful thinking on her part. Especially with the way he now looked at her.

His gaze latched on to the small movement of her tongue and she turned her head away, unable to meet the intensity of that dark green gaze. Why out of all the men she’d ever run across was this the one who made her more aware of her femininity than any other man—this person who might not be human? She’d seen enough sci-fi movies to realize maybe there could be some kind of reptilian creature beneath his humanoid flesh.

Paris forced herself to look into his eyes again, trying desperately not to get lost in their depths. “Please let me out of this thing. I think you’ve made a mistake.”

He frowned, cocking his head to the side. Then he spoke harshly in that indiscernible language.

“I don’t understand.” She shook her head.

His nostrils flared. Holding out his wrist, he pressed down on a raised part of his skin.

She wondered what he was doing. “Did you hear what I said?” she demanded.

“I heard you the first time, but now I finally understand what you’re saying. What game are you playing? Why are you speaking in the Earth tongue?”

“You speak English!” Her eyes widened in surprise.

The barbarian gave her a narrow-eyed stare. “It seems like I must since you’re not being cooperative. Thanks to this language chip I’ve implanted in my arm, I can understand and speak most known languages.”

“Who are you?”

Again he frowned, his eyebrows knitting together. “So you wish to continue with the games, Princess?”

Her eyes widened. “Princess? Me?” She’d been called many things in her lifetime, but this was a new one.

“Aye, London. You are a princess, though a spoiled one. Perhaps it is time for you to behave as someone befitting your station.”

“My station? I don’t even know who you are!”

“That is enough, London!” he roared.

There was that name again. Her sister! “Look, there’s been a misunderstanding. I’m not —”

“Silence! The only words I want to hear from your lips are the sound of you begging for mercy. By the end of the day, you’ll be screaming my name. And once we’re back on Thibius, we’re to be married as planned.”

Blood pounded in her ears as her heart rate sped up. “Married? Are you crazy? I’m not —”

“London, I’ve already told you, I don’t want to hear it. You’ve caused me enough trouble as it is.”

His statement stunned her. London was supposed to marry this man? This situation was getting stranger by the moment. Is this what had happened to her twin? And mother? Were they abducted by aliens?

Alien abduction? Maybe she’s seen way too many science fiction movies but somehow, she believed if there were other intelligent beings on other planets, they’d be green with multiple tentacles. Besides, being built like a supersized muscular version of a comic book hero, he looked like any other human.

As fantastical as being taken to another world sounded, it sort of made sense. When she was old enough, Paris had investigated the disappearance of her mother and sister but had found no traces of them. The only clue left behind was her mother’s abandoned vehicle with her keys and purse left behind. Most people would have given up on the idea of ever seeing their loved ones again but in Paris’s heart, she knew her sister was somehow alive despite there being no trace of her.

Maybe it was a freaky twin thing, but it explained the dreams she’d had growing up of a girl who looked like her, but wasn’t. The girl had been in a strange place, in different clothing. Clothing appeared to be made from the same material the barbarian now wore.

Had she secretly known of her sister’s whereabouts all this time? And what about her mother? Was she also alive? Hopefully her sister and mother hadn’t been separated. “Do you know what happened to my mother?”

“Oh?” He lifted a dark brow. “So you’ve finally given your poor mother a thought? The queen has been worried sick about you. Not that you care since you saw fit to run off the way you did—stealing one of your father’s heliocrafts? Those small ships weren’t built to cross galaxies. You’re lucky to be alive. How did you get as far as you did?”

She didn’t understand any of the nonsense he spouted besides, what he’d said about her mom. She was also alive? “Whoa! Wait a minute. My mother is a queen? How is that possible? When did that happen?”

He tilted his head to the side and looked at her as if she’d sprouted an eye in the middle of her forehead. “I see you’re still in a game playing mood. Fine. We’ll see if you like my kind of games.” He walked across the room to what looked like a control panel with all kinds of buttons.

Paris renewed her struggles. “Look, there’s been some mistake. I’m not Princess London. My name is —” Her words were halted when a pair of mechanical hands popped out from the sides of the chair and grabbed at the fastening of her metal bra. She renewed her fight.

What kind of contraption was this? “What are you doing to me? This isn’t funny.”

“It’s not my intention to amuse you. No. By the time I’m finished with you, there will be an altogether new emotion you’re going to feel.”

“This is rape,” she hissed at him.

He threw his head back and laughed.

It wasn’t the reaction she’d expected.

“There’s so much fire in you, Princess. You were all sweet smiles and coyness on Thibius. Has Earth changed you so much?”

“I told you I—oh,” she gasped. The mechanical hands undid the front clasp of her bra, setting her breasts free. Heat flooded her face.

Fire blazed within the depths of his gaze. Her nipples puckered against the cool air of the room.

“You throw out that word rape so easily, but was it rape when you moaned and wiggled against my fingers and mouth? Was it rape when I fucked you with my tongue? You were so wet, you were ready to come and would have if I hadn’t stopped.

Admit it, Princess, you wanted me.”

Sheer stubbornness made her deny what they both knew was the truth. Maybe her mind didn’t want him, but her body seemed to. Paris would be damned if she’d admit it though.

“Ah, I see you want to say you didn’t feel anything, but your body will give you away every time. You have a gorgeous body, London. I’m going to enjoy acquainting myself with it.”

“Never. The only thing you can do for me is let me go!” she raged, angry tears springing to her eyes. She was more upset with herself for the sensations she had no business feeling. What had this man done to her?

“Princess, there’s a lot I can do for you, like this…” He pressed one of the buttons on the panel. The metal hands tweaked her nipples, applying just enough pressure to cause a tingling feeling between her thighs.

“No,” she whispered trying to stave off the pleasure creeping up on her.

“Yes, Princess. Take a look at the screen here.”

She followed the direction of his finger and saw an impression of her body in different shades, mostly red and green. “What is that?” she squeaked.

“It’s you, Princess. This monitor indicates just how hot you are. The more aroused you become, the higher your heat level rises. The chair you’re sitting in monitors that and it’s recording it on this screen. So you can say what you like, but I’ll know the truth.” He pushed another button. The mechanical fingers increased the pressure on her nipples.

“Please don’t do this to me.” Paris squirmed in her seat, trying not to like this too much. Beads of sweat popped out on her forehead. “Oh, God,” she muttered.

“Just accept you want this.”

“When pigs fly,” she hissed.

“Hmm, I’m not familiar with that particular animal, but judging from the way you say it with such vehemence, flying isn’t something these pigs do. In that case, I’ll make you beg for your release.”

“I’d sooner see you in hell,” she spat at him, defiant even when she knew she couldn’t win.

“Again, another word I’m not familiar with. I think I can suffer this hell, as long as you’re there with me. Look at the screen. You’re getting hotter. Do you see how red your body has become?” His soft taunt didn’t help matters.

More than anything, Paris wanted to wipe the smug expression from his face. “Is this your sick idea of a fantasy, holding me hostage this way? Can’t you get a woman without tying her down?”

His eyes narrowed. “I’ve never had a problem with any woman, but you’ll soon learn I keep what is mine and make no mistake about it, Princess, you are mine.”

The dark-haired barbarian seemed to have more surprises for her. Restraints came out near the bottom of the chair and shackled her ankles. Then the legs of the chair spread, pulling her thighs open. “What are you doing?” Her words came out in a husky moan, as the mechanical hands squeezed and kneaded her breasts. This shouldn’t have felt good -- but it did.

“Proving you wrong. You say you’ll derive no pleasure from this, but we’ll see.”

Her eyes widened when a trap door opened on the floor in front of her and a large menacing-looking piece of equipment rose and slid forward until it rested between her legs. “What is this thing?”

He didn’t answer, merely pushing a few buttons before turning to watch her, his eyes glittering.

Paris was too fascinated to utter another word. A long thin rod slid forward, not stopping until it rested between the opening of her thighs. The little probe maneuvered her thong, pushing it to the side of her labia. Then it retreated, only for another object to pop out which looked a lot like a miniature dildo.

Her breathing was shallow as her pussy grew moist. The instrument moved forward, sliding up and down her slit. Paris squirmed in her chair, no longer able to fight the fierce desire flowing through her body.

One of the metal hands continued to caress her breasts while the other slid down her body until it rested on the tight nest of curls between her legs. Her gaze slid to the screen that monitored her heat level. The color had changed to red all over. She must be crazy for allowing this to happen to her, but what choice did she have? This contraption of metallic evil was making her feel things she didn’t want to.

“Tell me how you feel, Princess,” the barbarian spoke, his deep voice low and intimate.

“No,” she whispered, not making eye contact with him. The last thing she

wanted to see was the look of triumph on his face.

He chuckled. “Still fighting it?”

“I won’t give in.”

“I’d say you already have, Princess, but we won’t argue about it. I don’t think words are needed right now. Your body says it all.” He pressed more buttons.

This time the mechanical hand dipped lower, not stopping until it reached her clit, latching on and squeezing. The slim metal dildo pushed forward, not going deep, but probing just enough to send a pulse of delight along her nerve endings. There was a slight discomfort. She had a battery-operated boyfriend at home, but this was much slimmer.

Technically, she was still a virgin, having never gone all the way with any man.

It galled Paris that it was him of all people who introduced her to all these new sensations.

The heat within her burned in her belly. She was ready to break the restraints and touch herself. Her fingers wiggled and she writhed in the chair. “Oh, God,” she groaned. Being stimulated in this way was like nothing else. Paris closed her eyes and imagined it was the barbarian’s hands and cock bringing her close to her peak.

Was she nuts to think this? She had to be, but that didn’t matter at this moment.

What was happening to her felt too good to deny right now. Her juices flowed, wetting her thighs and dripping onto her seat. The metal dildo slid in and out of her, and Paris finally opened her eyes. The first things she saw were intense green eyes boring into hers.

She licked her lips nervously. He wanted her and by God, she wanted him too.

And she didn’t even know his name.

“Say the words,” he suddenly growled.

“What?” she asked dumfounded.

“Tell me you want this.”

“I…” Could she finally admit it to him? “I…”

“Say it, Princess. Tell me you want me.”

“Don’t make me say it.”

His eyes grew stormy. “Say it now!” he growled. The harshness of his tone snapped her out of the trance she’d been in.

“Never,” she hissed through gritted teeth.

“No?”

“No,” she agreed stubbornly.

“I’ll have your complete surrender, but you won’t be rewarded until I am.”

Turning back to the control panel, he flipped a switch which shut off all the machines.

The monitors went black and the metal hands and dildo retreated. The sex machine moved back, the floor swallowing it once again.

The bottom of the chair slid back, pushed her thighs back together. Her ankle restraints unlocked. The only things that remained were the bonds around her wrists.

“Why… why did you stop?”

“From your very lips, you said you didn’t want this. I’m simply giving you what you want, Princess. Perhaps the next time we meet, you’ll be a little more honest with me and yourself.”

And with that, he left the room.

Paris screamed her frustration. “You son of a bitch! Come back here and finish what you started!”

There were many things he could have done, but leaving her body on the verge of climax for the second time without the means of relief was by far the worst thing ever. Was there something wrong with her? Why did she want him so much, and the question that plagued her the most: why didn’t she try harder to tell him she wasn’t London?