Abducted Read online

  Hey, you can’t just lay here and let this happen to you! shouted a little voice in my head. You can’t just give in this easily! Fight him! Bite him!

  The voice was right and I knew it—I couldn’t just give up without a fight!

  With a little cry, I lifted my head and obeyed my inner badass.

  I sank my teeth into his full lower lip and started to bite. But just then the silver finger between my legs started circling my clit in long, slow, gentle strokes and my bite turned into an open-mouthed moan.

  Sarden took immediate advantage. I felt one big hand tangle in my hair to hold me in place as the other continued to stroke my trembling abdomen and belly. At the same time, his tongue entered my mouth, sliding between my lips to taste me more fully.

  His kisses were scorching…stinging, reminding me of the hot cinnamon candy I used to love as a little girl that burned my mouth and yet tasted so sweet I couldn’t stop sucking it. Hot Lixx it was called.

  Somehow I found I was kissing him back although I told myself I really, really didn’t want to. Between my wide-spread thighs the silver finger was stroking faster, pushing me closer to the line I didn’t want to cross.

  “Please!” I gasped at last when he finally broke the kiss. “Please, make it stop or I’m going to…going to…”

  “Going to come?” he murmured, his voice rough with lust. “Of course you’re going to come. Didn’t I tell you it’s your punishment?”

  “But I don’t…don’t want to!” I gasped. I didn’t either—or part of me didn’t. I didn’t like this bastard—he was going to trade me away to some alien slave merchant and I would never see Earth again! There was no way I wanted to give him the satisfaction of making me come.

  But another part of me was starved for sex and was having a damn hard time resisting.

  Look, don’t judge me. Have I mentioned it was almost a year since my last uh, encounter? And that was with my ex, Scott, the world’s fastest lover. Seriously, he’d make a jackrabbit jealous when it came to screwing and as for foreplay, well, I don’t think the word was even in his vocabulary. Scott’s idea of sex was to squeeze my boobs a few times, tell me I was “looking hot tonight,” then jump my bones before I was even really ready. A few pumps, a squirt, and a tickle and we could be done before the commercial break was over so he didn’t miss a second of the game.

  Needless to say, it wasn’t very satisfying. It was also one of the reasons I had broken up with him—although not the only reason. He’d also been a complete slob around the house and ridiculously cheap when it came to money.

  But enough about my ex. What I’m trying to tell you is that he never held me down and kissed me like my mouth was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted. Never spread my legs and teased me so slowly that I thought I would die of pleasure and embarrassment. And he certainly never talked dirty to me, while he looked into my eyes and took sadistic enjoyment from pushing me closer and closer to the point of no return.

  “Let me go,” I begged Sarden in a moan.

  “I’m not the one who’s holding you, Zoe,” he reminded me in his deep, growling voice. “You did that to yourself when you hit the bed’s pleasure function. While you were aiming at my head. Are you sorry for that?”

  “No,” I whispered recklessly, unable to lie, even now. “I’d do it again if it would get…get me back to Earth.”

  His face darkened for a moment and then he kissed me again, harder this time.

  I felt the sting of his hot mouth on mine and I couldn’t help opening to him, even though I knew I should bite instead. One big hand tightened in my hair as the other slid up and down my body, using a much firmer stroke than his earlier light, erotic caress. I had the feeling that he really, really wanted to touch me but he was true to his word. Though the silver bed continued to twist and tease my nipples and stroke my swollen clit, his big, warm hands carefully avoided my sexual hot spots.

  “Please,” I whispered again when he let me come up for air. “Please, I…I can’t…can’t come like this.”

  “Yes, you can,” he murmured. “And you’re going to.”

  “No…” I closed my eyes, trying to shut out the sight of him leaning over me, his golden gaze glowing in the dark. “No.”

  “Yes,” he whispered in my ear. “Now, Zoe—come for me now.”

  As he spoke, I felt the silver finger between my thighs stroke firmly against the side of my aching clit—moving just the way I moved when I touched myself.

  How? I thought deliriously as I tipped over the edge at last. How does it know how to do that?

  And then all rational thought slipped away and I was coming, coming and crying out in the night because I couldn’t help it…because part of me didn’t want to help it and never wanted it to end.

  Sarden didn’t say anything else, he just leaned over and took my mouth again, eagerly swallowing my cries and moans as I shook and gasped…as my body took over and I came and came until I couldn’t think any more…

  I don’t know how long it lasted—it seemed like forever. But at last I felt the pleasure ebbing and my body went limp as I panted, trying to catch my breath.

  “So beautiful.”

  I opened my eyes to see him looking down at me, those golden eyes glowing like two candle flames in the dark. “So fucking beautiful when you come, Zoe.” His deep voice was hoarse and the expression on his face was beyond intense.

  “Let me go,” I whispered brokenly, unable to help begging. “Take me back to Earth—please.”

  “I can’t,” he murmured and for a moment I thought I saw genuine regret in his eyes. “I told you, I have no choice.”

  “I don’t understand.” I blinked back tears, trying not to cry. I hate it when I get emotional after sex. It usually only happens when it’s a very intense experience—needless to say I hadn’t shed a single tear with Scott, even though we’d been together for over two years.

  I hadn’t been with Sarden for a whole twenty-four hours yet and I was already getting weepy—and we hadn’t even really had sex, I reminded myself.

  Right—tell that to my stupid eyes which insisted on producing tears. I sniffed hard, refusing to let them fall.

  “I don’t understand,” I said again.

  “You don’t have to understand.” Sarden’s deep voice was surprisingly gentle.

  Up until now, he’d been leaning over me, propped on one elbow. Now he shifted so that he was lying beside me in the silver bed which had thankfully stopped its “erotic functions” after I came. Our heads were even but he was so much taller than me, the tips of my toes only came about to his knees. It made me feel like a little girl beside him.

  “Sarden…”

  “Sleep now,” he murmured in my ear.

  “What? Like this?” I protested. “I can’t…can’t sleep like this,” I said and yawned despite myself. I still had my arms fastened firmly over my head and the black shirt was rucked up, leaving me exposed.

  “You can and you will.” Sarden’s deep voice was stern. “If I can’t trust you to be alone in your room, you’ll have to stay in mine. It won’t hurt you to stay restrained—the bed will support you in every way.”

  “But I’m cold,” I said. “At least pull down my shirt.”

  “It’s my shirt. And I won’t pull it down—I like looking at you. I will warm you up, though.” He turned over on his side and put a big, warm hand right in the middle of my belly. It seemed to radiate heat and I felt tingles and tendrils of warmth running through my entire body. His hand was so big that the tops of his fingers were right under my breasts and his palm was down past my belly button.

  “You bastard,” I said but not as angrily as I wanted to. I really was completely exhausted by this time. I could feel the weariness I’d fought off earlier in order to enact Plan B dragging at me—a slow, relentless tug like the tide pulling me out to sea.

  “Yes, I’m a bastard,” he agreed amiably enough, his long fingers tr