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  “Right. The tracking device. Freedom, scan the android.” Traz pivoted on his booted heels, his movements smooth and fluid, a predator facing his prey. She moved toward the door, maintaining the distance between them.

  The ship pitched forward and Falyn fell. Before her body could hit the floor, she was pulled back against a rock-hard, solid chest and strong arms wound around her waist, holding her tightly, protecting her.

  They stood as one, their bodies pressed together and her face buried in his chest. The scent of machinery and man filled her nostrils. Falyn felt a companionship, a reassuring sense of connection, she’d never experienced before, that one moment worth her pain.

  Once the floor leveled under their feet, Traz immediately shoved her away from him, rejecting her, his actions an unspoken declaration that he didn’t feel anything, the embrace meaning nothing special to him. “Turn around and place your hands on the wall.”

  Falyn blinked, her mind fuzzy with agony and thwarted desire. Traz scowled and flung a hand at the wall. At the wall. Her terror returned. She looked at him and then at the wall, weighing the lesser of the two evils. “No.”

  “Falyn…” His face grew even harder, his scars stark white against his tanned skin.

  “It’ll crush me,” she whispered, ashamed of her fear.

  Traz’s lips twitched. “It won’t crush you, I promise.”

  He promises. Falyn studied Traz, seeing no deception in his level gaze. He won’t hurt me. She took a deep breath, faced the wall and rested the heel of her hands against the cool metal.

  “Restrain,” Traz barked.

  The bands whipped around her skin. Startled, Falyn tried to pull away. She couldn’t move, her wrists securely fastened to the wall. “Traz?” Her heart pounded.

  “Shhh…relax.” He touched the metal, the scars on his fingers reminding Falyn of the pain he’d endured. “Did it hurt you?” Genuine concern colored his voice.

  “No.” Be strong. Falyn breathed in and out, in and out, managing her panic. Earn his love.

  “But it could have crushed you as you feared.” Traz brushed her hair over her shoulder, his touch surprisingly gentle. “The promise of a stranger is worth nothing. You shouldn’t trust so easily.”

  “You’re not a stranger. You’re the man I’m destined to love,” she confessed. As her terror receded, the agony radiating from the collar increased, the pulses of electric charges quickening. “I’ve been waiting for you to free me.”

  “Free you?” Traz extracted a tiny tool out of his pocket. “I’ve captured you. And this isn’t about love. This is a business deal.” He smelled of machinery, discharged guns and man, and she inhaled deeply, drawing his scent inside her. “I’m trading you for what I really want.”

  What I really want. She dropped her head, her hair hiding her face, pain and exhaustion and disappointment weighing down on her. Traz’s fingertips skimmed her neck, and Falyn sniffed, the metallic scent of blood filling her nostrils. Nosebleed. Weakness. “You should let John remove the collar. He has practice.” John had practiced over and over, reducing the removal time to mere seconds. I can last seconds.

  “If I can remove a collar from Gehenna 5, I can remove this flimsy piece of decoration.” Traz’s knuckles rubbed against her neck as he rotated the tool.

  Falyn closed her eyes and concentrated on him. His rough hands sent ripples of pleasure across her skin, his breath wafted on her cheek and his body heat held her in a sensual embrace.

  Count, Falyn. “One,” she murmured as the pain jolted through her. “Two.” She shifted her weight from one bare foot to the other, her toes numb with cold. “Three.”

  “Why are you counting?” Traz leaned closer, his warm arm branding her shoulder.

  “Because I know I can last until twenty,” Falyn assured him, eager to earn his approval. “I’ve done it before.”

  “Last through what?” The collar clicked and loosened slightly. “Stop moving.”

  She stilled, not realizing she’d been dancing in place, as he fiddled with the Federation’s torture device. Time stretched endlessly, unbearably. Her head floated. Moisture dripped onto her lips. Blood. “Tabs,” she whispered. “You need tabs so the circuit continues.”

  “Got them…almost…in place.” Traz held his breath.

  Falyn held her breath also, the quiet in the room eerie and uncomfortable. “I forgot to count.” She gasped, horrified by her mistake. “Now I’ll have to start again and I don’t think I can last that long.”

  “Quiet,” Traz ordered.

  Falyn pressed her trembling lips together. Pain more acute than she’d ever experienced rocked her body. Tears streaked down her cheeks, blood filled her mouth and blackness descended.

  “What the…” The drone of Traz’s voice jerked her back into consciousness. “Fuck!” he roared.

  “What?” Falyn lifted her head, no longer in agony, her neck bare of the collar she’d always worn. Naked, I’m naked. She looked at Traz. His eyes blazed with fury. What did I do? Her body temperature dropped. “I moved.” Her whimper accentuated her weakness. “And I’m talking.” Two failures. “I’m sorry.” She resumed her pose, hoping he hadn’t noticed.

  “You’re sorry. They tortured you and you’re sorry,” he muttered.

  “I moved,” Falyn repeated, regretting her disobedience, her weakness.

  “I detached the collar. You can move now.” Traz cupped her chin, his fingertips rough against her skin, and he forced her face toward him. “Fuck.” With one hard yank, he ripped the sleeve off his flight suit. “You’re bleeding.” He fanned his fingers over her jaw and gently dabbed the blue fabric under her nose and along her lips.

  Falyn watched him with wonder as he cleaned her, his tender touch contrasting vividly with his hard scarred face. Why isn’t he punishing me? The Federation would punish me for my weakness. Am I not worth reprimanding? Questions frothed inside her, trapped by his command for quiet.

  Traz tossed the cloth against the wall and he wiped his fingers on his thighs, blood staining the pretty blue. “Tell me why they did this to you.” His fingertips grazed her neck, his expression frighteningly intense. “You’re their most prized possession.”

  “So I couldn’t escape,” she whispered, dazed by his continued caresses. He followed the vein in her neck down to her collarbone, his hands warm and soothing. “But I lasted, didn’t I? I’m your possession now.”

  “You are my possession.” Traz shifted to stand behind him, out of her line of sight, and his fingers curled around her shoulders, his grip unbreakable. “No one else will hurt you, Falyn. I own you. You’re mine,” he murmured into her ear, his chest pressing down on her back, the hard ridge in his flight suit pushing against her ass cheeks. Falyn trembled under his dominance, scared and excited, her thighs dampening.

  “I’m your slave.” Her voice was unrecognizable, husky with passion. She tilted her hips, rubbing against him. “What will you do with me?”

  “I… No!” Traz broke away from her and she shivered, the air cool. “Don’t use your powers on me, future-bender.” He glared at her, his anger unnerving. “They won’t work. You’re my prisoner, and nothing you do or say will change that.” He turned away from her.

  What powers? Falyn stared at his back, his response confusing.

  Traz stomped toward the door, his boots ringing on the metal. Without a backward glance, he left her bound to the wall, alone except for her incapacitated android.

  She waited for him to return. He didn’t, the room quiet and cold.

  “Our plans worked, John. We’ve finally escaped our chambers,” Falyn observed cheerfully, holding on to her optimism. John didn’t answer, maintaining the silence she’d long grown accustomed to.

  She studied her silver restraints. They weren’t very different from the white restraints the Federation used while transporting her to the station. The room was as plain as her chambers, devoid of any portholes to the outside. She shifted from her left foot to her right, her t
oes freezing, her freedom of movement as severely limited as it was during assignments.

  “Not that the view has changed.” Falyn chuckled, enjoying the irony of her situation. “All that planning and effort and we’re still staring at blank walls.”

  Chapter Three

  Traz stalked through his ship, moving quickly as if there were a dozen Federation prison guards behind him and not one sexy violet-eyed master manipulator bound to the containment chamber’s walls. His blood pumped through his veins, his cock was hard and his balls ached, the need to take what she had so clearly offered tremendous.

  Why shouldn’t I fuck her? He slid the collar over his hand and gritted his teeth as a shock pulsed up his arm. If she can take this, she can take me.

  But can I take her? She tolerated this pain with a demure smile on her angelic face. What kind of creature am I dealing with?

  Traz entered the bridge, open space on the main viewscreen. “Freedom, status of the android scan,” he barked.

  “Fifty-three percent complete, Captain,” his ship relayed.

  “Fuck.” No information yet. He sank into the captain’s chair, the leather comfortably worn. “How many ships followed us?”

  “None, Captain. We are not being pursued.”

  “Good.” Traz plunked the collar down on the tablet, partially covering the image of Falyn’s beautiful face. “The android is blocking this tracking device. When scanning is complete, duplicate the blocking code in a self-contained device.”

  “Yes, Captain,” the ship replied. “We are ahead of the logged schedule. Do you wish to reduce speed to compensate?”

  “No. The faster we get there, the better.” Traz examined the route map, unnerved by how easy it had been to capture Falyn. “What non-human abilities does this future-bender have?”

  “Future-bender Falyn predicts destined mates through sensory interaction. Her intelligence level is high.”

  Traz waited. Freedom didn’t add any more information. “Is that it? No enhanced pain tolerance? No self-defense abilities? No influencing traits?”

  “According to multiple Federation tests, Falyn scores within human parameters for influencing. She scores below average for pain tolerance and self-defense.”

  “And those sadistic Federation bastards knew that.” Traz glared at the offending collar, remembering the red scars around her pale neck. “She’s been tortured like me.” He touched the matching scars on his skin, that pain etched in his memory for all time.

  “No.” Traz shook his head. “Don’t feel sympathy for her. Don’t feel anything for her. Remember what you have to do.”

  Traz drew himself up, resolve straightening his spine. “Freedom, has the future-bender taken the Balazoid blocker?”

  “Yes. She was ill for three months.”

  “Fuck.” Traz shook his head, unable to reconcile the frail woman in the file with the strong woman he met. “Display containment chamber.”

  The image was laid over the stars. Falyn stood where he’d left her, bent over, with her hands on the wall and her gorgeous, tempting ass sticking out, her gown so sheer he saw the shadow between her curves. She shifted her weight, her feet bare on the metal floor.

  “She’s freezing.” Traz stood, a rare rush of guilt pushing him to action. “Prepare my chamber for prisoner containment.”

  Move her and forget her, inmate. Traz clenched his fingers into fists, struggling to control his sexual excitement. Don’t get involved. She’s a means to an end, that’s it. Focus on your sister. Focus on your mission.

  Falyn looked up as he entered the chamber, her exotic eyes lighting with welcome…for him. No, not possible. Not for me.

  “Have you come to remove the gown?” Her voice rose with hope.

  He frowned. “You want me to strip you?” His cock bobbed its approval of that plan.

  Her cheeks flushed bright red. “John told me the Federation sometimes weaves tracking devices into the fabric. He scanned this gown and didn’t find any but…” She nibbled on her plump bottom lip, drawing his gaze to her mouth.

  “If I strip you, I’ll fuck you,” Traz warned, his words deliberately blunt.

  Her gaze met his, her eyes wide and clear and so damn readable. She abused her lip some more as she deliberated and Traz ground his teeth, yearning to suck on that soft flesh. “I think you should remove my gown…just to be safe.”

  “This won’t be safe, Falyn.” Traz extracted a knife from a hidden pocket. Light gleamed off the blade. “Or gentle.” He pushed her hair over her shoulder and drifted his fingertips up her arm, her skin as smooth as polished bone. She trembled under his touch, her body reassuringly responsive. “I’m going to fuck you until you scream.” He lifted the flimsy straps and carefully sliced through the fabric.

  As Traz pocketed his knife, the gown slipped lower and lower, revealing her arched spine, the dimples above her ass and the valley between her curves. She wiggled and the garment dropped to the floor, falling in a puddle around long, lean legs perfect for wrapping around his waist.

  “Beautiful.” Traz reached out and placed his hand on her back, needing to confirm she was real and she was his.

  “Do you really think so?” Falyn looked over her shoulder, her expression sweetly anxious. “Because I’ve seen the women in my images and they all had more shape than I do. I thought.” She bit down on her lip. “I thought you might like them better.”

  “I took you, didn’t I?” Traz said gruffly. Block your emotions, inmate. She’s a slave to be used, not a lover to be cosseted. “No more conversation.” He smacked Falyn’s ass hard enough to mark her, deriving a perverse pride from leaving his handprint on her white skin. She cried out and her body jerked toward him, into her punishment. Traz vibrated with awareness, having seen that same reaction in the prison pain whores. “Spread your legs wider,” he instructed, seeking physical confirmation of his suspicions.

  Her pink pussy lips, framed by short white curls, glistened with moisture. He ran his fingers along her sex and she pressed back into his hand, soaking his palm with her juices. “You like it rough, don’t you, slave?” He slapped her other ass cheek and she moaned, the erotic sound tormenting his hard cock. “Answer me.”

  “Yes, Traz.” Her voice shook, her obedience pleasing him.

  “What else do you like?” Traz slid his hand up her crevice and found her perfect rosette. “Do you want my thick cock in your tight little ass?” He circled her with his fingers and her ass cheeks clenched and unclenched. “Answer me.” He pinched the sensitive skin.

  “Yes, Traz.” The words pitched higher.

  “But your wants aren’t important, are they?” He smacked her ass again, his blow strong enough to sting without leaving lasting pain. She whimpered, her open need tugging at his resolve. “Because you’re my slave and nothing more than that.” His words tasted like lies.

  Traz stroked her pussy and rubbed her clit, slicking her entrance, preparing her. “My slave. Mine.” Her musk teased his nostrils, and her throaty pants punctuated his caresses. “Whose fingers are in your perfect pussy?”

  “Yours.”

  “Say my name.” He gave her clit a hard tap.

  “Traz!” Falyn cried out, her body gushing with her reaction. “Traz’s fingers are in my perfect pussy.”

  “That’s right, my fingers.” Traz yanked down his flight suit. “And whose cock do you want?”

  “Yours…Traz’s.” She corrected her mistake immediately. “I want Traz’s cock.”

  Hearing those dirty words spoken in that light, breezy voice excited Traz. His balls drew up tight against the base of his shaft and ached for release. “Yes, my cock.” He rewarded her with a slap on the ass and she tilted her hips, silently asking for more.

  Traz ignored that plea as he wanted her too strongly and was unable to last for much longer. “I’ll give you that cock, slave. I’ll fuck you the way you want, hard and fast, until you scream my name. My name and no one else’s.” He pushed his brutishly big purple
cock head between her fragile pink folds, her heat welcoming him.

  “Fuck, you’re tight.” Her inner walls squeezed him, protesting his invasion. He burrowed deeper and withdrew, burrowed deeper and withdrew, slowly working his shaft into her wet pussy. Falyn panted, her knuckles white on the silver wall, yet she didn’t refuse him, granting him, a killer, an escaped convict, a gun-for-hire, access to her heavenly form. He took advantage of her trust, burying his cock fully inside her.

  “Fuck,” Traz murmured, reverence shading the word, her pussy the closest place to paradise he’d ever found. He hooked his arm around her torso, covering her small sinfully soft breast with his callused palm, her taut nipple caught between his spread fingers. As he savored the decadent feel of her, he nuzzled into her hair, her scent fresh and pure and foreign.

  He’s inside me. Falyn trembled with excitement. Traz, the man I’m destined to love, is inside me. His cock, longer and thicker than her android’s, filled her, connecting them, his shaft pulsing against her inner walls, the coarse curly hair at his base tickling her pussy lips.

  Traz straightened and cool air rushed over her back. She swallowed her disappointment and silently arched her spine, offering him her body to be used as he wished, yearning, needing to please him.

  Traz laid his hands on her hips, his palms rough, his grip strong, and he rocked into her, testing her body with short, shallow thrusts, his control of her body thrillingly masterful. He took what he wanted and he wanted her, Falyn the woman, not Falyn the future-bender.

  She pushed back against him, taking his cock deeper, coaxing him to ride her harder. Unlike with her android, Traz responded, driving into her with more and more vigor, smacking his hips into her burning ass cheeks, rubbing against the handprints branded on her skin.

  He possessed her, all of her, and Falyn panted, her legs trembling, the musk of her wet pussy mixing with the scent of his skin, perspiration sleeking his muscular thighs. Traz hooked his arm around her waist, slid his hand down her stomach and threaded his fingers through her fine private hair. He ruthlessly twisted the short strands, the pull heightening her desire, and she called his name.