caught. And I’ve got more incentive not to
get caught now than ever.
I tap in my order, confirm that I’ll be
paying on delivery with hard credits, and
wait for the acknowledgement to flash up on
the screen. Ten minutes, it tells me. I make
myself a cup of tea from native klee leaves
while I wait for the groceries. I’ve had tea
on a lot of different worlds. The crap they
served on the Island was the worst. Looked
like piss. Tasted like piss. Klee tea is a fuck
of a lot nicer: aromatic and flavorful. I put
out a second cup, measure two scoops of
leaves, and leave it on the counter. Kez might
like some tea when she wakes.
I amble out to the deck. The deck is the
reason I picked this place. It wraps around
three sides of the house and overlooks the
river to the east. With Kuseros’s rotation,
that means the Twins set over the river every
night. Sunset’s several hours off, but the
view over the river is still fine. The binary
paints the water silver and gold. The river’s
stocked with Kuseros’s native fish, full of
mercury and avoided by the Colonists.
Occasionally one of them leaps after
something skimming on the river’s surface.
At night, the riverbanks are lit by the
gleaming eyes of native predators coming to
eat and drink.
Nock City’s Coppertyne quarter is on the
other side of the river. Mostly an artist’s
colony with a few warehouses and industrial
buildings. When I took this place, it faced an
industrial warehouse, uglifying the view and
reducing the rent. The warehouse has since
come down and a collection of striped tents
appeared about a month ago. I’m waiting to
see what they become, but I’m betting on
some kind of market when the hot, wet
summer arrives.
I toss the dregs of my tea off the deck into
the river. Check that the shock barrier I’ve
put up to make sure nothing gets in from the
river is working. I can see the faint ripple of
the net about three meters out in the water.
The wide berth the fish give it. Looks like
it’s working just fine.
I stroll back into the house to meet the
delivery ‘bot.
Chapter 9
The house smells of ginger by the time I
return to the bedroom. A good warm smell to
compliment the warm fullness in my belly.
One of the things I’ve liked most about the
last few years has been feeding myself.
Whatever I wanted. Whenever I wanted. I
never much cared about food before slam. In
the military, I ate whatever was served to
me. It was fuel. In slam, I ate whatever I
could get, usually not enough, and nothing
very tasty.
But as Marin’s ghost has taught me to
appreciate sunsets and rainbows, she’s also
fucked with my palate. Bland, tasteless grub
no longer satisfies me. I’ve learned to cook
in self-defense, and like everything else I’ve
ever put my mind to, I’ve gotten good at it. I
buy noodles from the place down the street
when I’m in a hurry, and there’s a stall near
the spaceport that sells the best flash in the
known universe – I can’t pass that place
without stopping for a bag of the fried,
seasoned seaweed – but the rest of the time I
cook for myself. Maybe I’ll cook for Kez
when she wakes. She can buy me noodles
another time.
The bedroom’s still pitch black. I tap the
door closed and let my eyes adjust. Kez is
sprawled across the bed, one foot sticking
out from under the blanket. I kneel next to the
bed to admire her foot. Long and narrow,
like her hands. There’s something on the
sole, a stain against her pale skin, but it’s too
dark for me to make out what it is.
I skim one finger from her ankle to her
thigh, pushing the blanket up, following the
long line of her leg. Listen to her breathing
change. She makes one of those soft, sexy
noises women make as they wake. I let the
blanket fall back. “Go back to sleep.”
“I need Ralph,” she murmurs.
“Yeah, he’s just coming to bed.” I shuck
off the robe and loose pants I put on for the
benefit of the neighbors, lift the covers and
climb in next to her, stretching across her so
I cover her body with mine. Her ass snugs
right into my groin, a perfect fit. I’m careful
not to touch her lower back as I sweep her
dreadlocks out of the way and nuzzle the
nape of her neck. “Nighty-night.”
She rubs her ass against me. Reaches
back and cups my hip to hold me tight against
her. “I’m not tired.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that before.” Right
before she crashed for another five hours. I
run my hand down the arm she’s got cradling
her head. Her skin feels cool, slightly
clammy. “Kez, are you cold?”
She shrugs. “A little.”
“How’s your gut? Still queasy?”
“I’m not going to puke on your clock, if
that’s what you’re worried about.”
Not what I’m worried about. “Turn over
for me.” I lift myself off her and tap the
headboard control to let a little light into the
room. She squints up at me as she rolls over,
looking like a kitten rudely awoken from a
nap. “Shocky kitten.”
I cover her with the thermoblanket –
which should have kept her warm but feels
cool to the touch; I hardly ever use it, so
maybe it’s broken – while I take her pulse.
It’s strong and steady. Her pupils are dilated,
but no more than usual when she’s with me.
The blood has cleared out of her eye at least.
“How’re you feeling?”
“Achy.”
With that bruise on her back, I’m not
surprised. “Your mouth dry? D’you have a
headache?”
“No, just achy.” She takes my hand and
guides it down to her groin. “Mostly here.”
I tilt my head to the side and regard her.
She blinks up at me with those wide,
innocent kitten eyes. Definitely not the
expression of someone about to die from
shock. “Mostly there, huh?” I cup her through
the blanket.
She smiles and wriggles against my hand.
“Yes.”
“Dunno if I have a derm for that.”
“I’m sure you have something that would
make me feel better.” She gives me the full
mischievous grin. That grin is becoming such
a turn-on. I shake my head at her.
“Sex is not recommended for shock.” I
have to suppress a grin at her pout. “So if
we’re gonna do this, there’ll have to be
rules.”
Her pupils dilate so widely even the low
light must be painful. “Rules are good,” she
breathes.
Yeah, I figured. “Rule one, we need to
elevate your arms above your head.” When
she looks confused, I take her wrists and
guide them over her head. She immediately
grins. “Aids circulation,” I explain.
She wriggles around until she’s got her
head on a pillow and both arms draped
above her head, wrists crossed close to the
headboard. She grins up at me.
“Now we need something to keep them
there.” I reach over the side of the bed for
the robe I dropped and pull the waist-tie out
of its loops. Knot one end around her wrist,
loop the tie through the ornamental scrolling
of the headboard, and knot it around her
other wrist. I leave enough play so she can
move her arms a little, but she’ll be aware of
the restraint while we’re fucking. “Rule two,
dead puppies.”
She nods eagerly. “I remember that rule.”
“Rule three, no throwing up on me. If you
feel sick, remember rule two.”
She giggles. “I’m not going to throw up
on you.”
“Good.” I skim my hand down her body,
pushing the blanket back. I’ll keep her warm
from now on.
we have the lights off? They hurt my eyes.”
That’s probably true, but it’s not the
reason she wants the lights off. When I
undressed her, I only noticed the scar on her
back. But it’s not her only scar. In pulling
down the blanket, I’ve uncovered others.
There’s a long line across her ribs that looks
like a knife slash. A few centimeters from
where my hand has stopped, there’s a dark
gouge on her inner thigh. I nod and tap the
control on the headboard. I don’t need any
light and I don’t want her to be self-
conscious while we’re fucking.
With the lights off, her pale skin glowing
in my night vision, her hands captured and
her body totally open to me, I explore her. I
start at the bottom and work my way up.
Stroke her smooth, hard ankles. Hook her
feet over my shoulders so I can caress every
silky centimeter of her legs. She bucks up
against me, making soft, mewling sounds,
trying to entice me to penetrate her. But I’m
not giving it to her yet. Last time was rough
and urgent. Now that we’re finally in a bed, I
want to go slow. And I want to see if she’ll
come this way, or if she’s wired so that only
a hard fuck gets her off.
I spread her legs, lift her knees so she’s
cradling me as I lie across her, and kiss my
way up her belly. She makes a tiny protest
when I near the scar across her ribs. I trace it
with my fingertips, then my mouth. It’s an old
scar, recessed against her soft skin. I give it
a final kiss. “I’ve got plenty of scars, too.”
“On you they’re cool,” she whispers.
“Mine are just ugly.”
“Nothin’ here’s that’s ugly.” I run my
hands down her body. Cup her hips and lean
over her so I’m looking down into those
gleaming eyes. “Nothin’ at all.”
She lifts her head, catches at my chin
with her mouth. “Please . . .”
“Please what, kitten?”
“Please, I want – please, I want you to
fuck me.”
I lift her hips against mine. Feel the
wetness between her legs as I rub against
her. “Language, kitten.”
“Please, Snow . . .”
“Patience.” I kiss her lightly, not wanting
to put pressure on her split lip. Feel the cold
metal of the ring through her septum brush my
upper lip. I catch it between my teeth and
give it a little tug. “What’s this good for?”
“Wha-what?”
I cup her cheek, roll her lower lip down
with my thumb and touch the tip of her tongue
with the pad of my finger. “Piercings here
are good for sucking cock, or so I hear.” She
doesn’t have one, for which I’m grateful.
Metal against my dick reminds me of the
rehab sessions in K-G. I sit back and brush
each of her little pink nipples in turn. Her
breasts are small, round and so very sweet.
“Piercings here feel good to the woman
when you tug on ‘em.” I trail my middle
finger down her abdomen until I reach her
bare pudenda. I pinch each labia gently, then
her clitoris. She bucks against my hand and
moans. “Same here. So what’s the nose ring
good for?”
She tosses her head against the pillow.
“Getting in the way when I blow my nose.
But I like the way it looks.”
I chuckle. “Maybe we can find a use for
it.” I can’t imagine what at this moment – I’m
a little distracted by what’s spread open
before me – but I’ll think of something. I
keep stroking her soft mons, unable to pull
my hand away. Kez moans and rolls her hips
under my hand. Nothing wrong with her
reactions. She’ll come just fine from a slow,
gentle fuck.
I ease my iron grip on the little monster.
He has her scent now, and is more than
ready. I rub my head up and down her wet
lips. Guide just my tip into her and rock
slowly, in and out, in and out, until I’m all
the way inside her. Her moans rise to gasps.
that I wouldn’t be able to feel if I was
moving more quickly. I let her body set the
rhythm. Take her hips in my hands and push
slowly in and out in time to her trembling
contractions. She’s so warm and tight and
wet. “Mmm, kitten.”
“Oh, God, Snow . . .” she moans.
“Yeah, you like that?” In and out, in and
out. I slide my hand up to her soft little
breast. Cup it in my palm. Tease her nipple
with my fingers while I keep rocking inside
her.
“Snow!”
“That’s it,” I whisper to her. Lean over to
kiss her and see that she’s looking up at me
with those wide eyes. She hasn’t closed her
eyes. Hasn’t retreated into memory or
imagination. “Kezra, you with me?” I know
she is. She’s right with me in the moment.
Feeling every centimeter as I slide into her.
Squeezing me as I pull back out. I stretch
myself across her, slide my arms under her
shoulders and look down into her eyes as I
fuck her.
“Yes, oh, God, yes!”
She thrashes under me, grinding her head
into the pillow. I kiss her, feeling her hot
breath on my mouth. She pushes her tongue
against mine. Matches my rhythm. In and out,
in and out. Tongue and cock. Everything
moving to that slow, synchronized bea
t. Her
soft body rising and falling under mine. Her
ankles lock behind my ass. Her thighs shake
against my hips. Her body clenches, the
contractions coming faster and faster. I sit
back on my heels so I can completely control
the angle and depth of my penetration. Push
all the way in and then pull almost all the
way back out, so that just my head is inside
her. Her body arcs under me, straining. I
guide the little monster back in and hold her
open with my hand. Make wet circles on her
clitoris with my thumb.
She howls and bucks up off the bed. I
press down with my hand on her hip, the
other on her pubic bone, thrust slowly up
against the pressure of my hand. Feel her
come all over me. Her heels pound against
my ass. Her tight little sheath fists around my
cock. Her back snaps taut while her hips jerk
against mine. I thrust slowly, pushing up into
the g-spot to prolong her orgasm, driving in
and in and in to stimulate every nerve. Her
cries become a long guttural wail as her
body strains under mine. It should be hard to
keep this achingly slow rhythm. I’ve only felt
a woman come a few times but each time it’s
brought me to an abrupt end. Not this time.
This time it’s effortless to maintain this
slow, measured pace because it feels too
good to do anything else. I don’t want to
come. I just want to keep on fucking her.
“Snow!” she screams. I feel her climax
peak. She convulses helplessly under me.
Gasps like she’s sprinted for a klick. Blood
flushes her neck and cheeks, visible even in
the dark. It’s not just her eyes that light up.
It’s her entire body. A whole body come. I
keep holding her, moving over her, thrusting
in and out, in and out, in and out and it feels
too good to ever stop.
Her final few convulsions shake the
whole bed, they’re so strong. Then I feel her
body begin to relax. Her grip on my cock
loosens. Her feet slide down my ass until her
legs lie loosely on either side of mine.
I slow my thrusts even further. I’m not
ready to come yet – there’s still no urgency
and everything feels so good. But I don’t
want to keep pounding on her in this
position. She doesn’t need any more bruises.
I lean over her, hold my weight off her on
my forearms. Kiss her mouth and cheeks and
chin while I roll my hips against her. “Can
you take more, kitten?”
“Yes,” she whispers. She tries to reach