Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 51263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 256(@200wpm)___ 205(@250wpm)___ 171(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 256(@200wpm)___ 205(@250wpm)___ 171(@300wpm)
Had I done that?
The concept is hard to forget as I watch him strip out of his uniform and toss it into a hole in the wall that I assume is a laundry chute. Beneath is a thin, skin-tight under-layer of some sort that forms to the well-defined ridges of his bulging muscles. I wrap my arms around my waist, but I can’t tear my eyes away.
“You may wear my clothes. Open the cubicle there,” he instructs, and nods to a wall of cabinets opposite the bed.
Ignoring the bed, and its implications, I peer into the cabinets. I grab clothes at random until I find a pair of pants with a sort-of elastic waist and a shirt that’s nearly a dress. I take as long as possible, hoping to find him already in bed. Surely after rubbing one out, he can’t possibly be ready for another round.
“Why did you steal me?” I croak out.
He lets out a heavy sigh. “We didn’t steal you. We found you. My men were doing a run and located some life in a passing vessel. They pulled them from the vessel and brought them back here.”
That makes no sense, though.
Why would I be sleeping in some pod creeping through outer space?
“Turn around,” he says, and his voice comes closer behind than I expect.
As much as I’d hoped I’d be given a night of reprieve, evidence suggests Commander Breccan is eager to apply himself to the task.
Throat dry, hands trembling, I pivot to face him and my fate. No amount of deep breathing or calming techniques will soothe my nerves, but there is one trick I’ve learned through my years of acting—both in front of the camera and off. Faking it. It’s what I do. The only thing I know how to do.
I wish I had a hit of flora. Their system—though out of date—is still very advanced and managed to clean my whole body of every trace of the drug. They need their perfect breeder, after all, so I don’t even have detoxing to distract me from the way he’s looking at me.
“Maybe we should get some sleep,” I suggest. “It’s been a long day.” I start to move in the direction of the bed, but he stops me with a grunt and I freeze before turning back to face him, dread pooling in my stomach.
He’s so close, his body blots out everything else. Wide shoulders, thickly muscled abdomen, narrow hips framing his sex. I use my own inspection to distract me from the feeling of his eyes tracing my body. I’m acutely aware of the fact that despite the clothes he’s provided me, there was no underwear. His flat nose flares and I wonder if his senses are so strong that he can smell my fear, because it certainly won’t be arousal at this point.
“We won’t be sleeping. Avrell informed me you will be fertile for the next week. We can’t afford to miss any chance to reproduce.”
“How romantic,” I mumble.
His gaze catches mine. “Romance has nothing to do with reproduction.” He says it almost like a question.
There’s a pause, where I can either panic or submit to this hand I’ve been dealt. I know I have no chance of fighting these men. They’re bigger, stronger, and more knowledgeable about the terrain. Frustration builds inside me like a geyser and no doubt shoots from my eyes to his. I hate him, in this moment, for putting me in this position. I hate him for taking my choices away, like so many others.
But I won’t let him win.
I won’t be a victim.
I’m not sure how I ended up in that cryotube in the first place, but it landed me on this planet and now I’m here. Until I have the answers I seek, I need to stay alive.
If I have to do this, I’ll do it my way. I won’t fight, but I will win in the end. I’ll let him fuck me, treat me like a breeding cow, until I get my chance to escape—and then I will escape, no matter what it costs.
Even if it costs what’s left of me.
My eyes flashing, mouth pressed into a stubborn slant, I spin away from him, tugging my arm from his grasp, and bend over the raised platform bed. I present myself ass up in the air and flip up the thin shirt.
Silence meets my action.
Good. I’ve shocked him. I turn so I can see his expression and lift a brow. “Well, let’s get on with it. I won’t be fertile forever, Commander.” Then, I press my face into the strange blankets and the scent of him fills my nose. Strangely spicy, with a leathery undercurrent.
I want to cry, I know I should, but the tears won’t come. My face remains clear and dry until I feel his hand on my hip, and my cheeks heat. Once upon a time, before I’d gone to Hollywood to be an actress, I’d considered having a family. My own had been so thoroughly messed up, I’d wondered what it would be like. I certainly never thought it would be like this.