Page 7 of Her Consort
Chapter Three
“I don’t think you’re using that word right,” Piper said as they wended their way through the maze of corridors that was her salvage ship. “I mean, most people don’t use consummate that way.”
“I’m not most people,” Kogan replied. He was doing all the walking. Draped upside down over his shoulder, Piper had one job right now and that was to keep a coherent thought in her head, a task that was growing harder by the step. Not only was she at prime eyelevel with his ass—his fine, fine Hog-whatever-ian ass—but she couldn’t stop thinking about it. He wanted to ‘consummate’ her. Totally the wrong word usage, but as her mother used to say, ‘If you know what I mean, don’t correct what I say.’
And Piper knew exactly what he meant. She also knew she was screwed… or at least, she hoped she would be. Two more corners and three more corridors and they’d be in the housing wing. His room was first door on the right. Her excitement was growing by the footfall, and it shouldn’t be. She ought to be furious right now. She ought to be yelling her fool head off, not idling wondering if he’d concede to a time-out first so she could shave her legs. She should be beating her hands against his back, not ogling the sheer man-yumminess of his form-fitting britches. She should be shouting curses, not biting back coos; kicking and thrashing both legs, not envisioning how good it was going to feel to wrap them both around him; clawing the hell out of his broad back in the meanest way possible, instead of in the slow, back-arching, deep-moaning, hip-undulating way her imagination was currently haunting her with.
“Maybe conquer would be better than consummate?” she suggested, trying not to be even more aroused.
His hand on the back of her thigh gave her a reassuring pat. “I’ve read more than enough human manuals,” he assured her. “You’ll get your fill of both. Trust me.”
Trust him? It was all Piper could do not to squirm in the hopes she might get his fingers to brush high enough to graze the folds of her aching pussy. God, she wanted to be touched so badly, but she couldn’t even keep that thought straight in her head. Everything was a swim of sensations, flowing in and through her on waves so vibrantly felt that they might as well be physical, flowing colors. Never mind that colors weren’t physical; they were right now. The press of his shoulder was bright orange, digging into her belly in a way that only served to reinforce the fantasies building in her mind. Neanderthals were heavy. He was absolutely going to crush her later on, but her body still thrilled at the thought of all that delicious amber muscle crawling up to cover her, of his hard hips settling into the cradle of hers, the pink grip of his hands molding her breasts, gently tweaking and tugging at her nipples… gripping, squeezing, owning her ass with vibrant red swat after intensifying swat.
She shivered.
Shifting his balancing hand from the back of her thigh to the top of her ass, Kogan gave her a pat. “Cold?”
“Sure,” she demurred. Why not? Let’s go with cold. She shivered again.
“I’ll warm you,” he promised with a dark chuckle and another rewarding pat, this one following the curve of her buttocks with his fingers dipping into the shadows between. “Yes, I’m going to warm you all right.”
Her shiver seemed to feed his. By the time they reached his quarters, he was trembling almost as badly as she was. She felt rattled by it—the building excitement, the tingling overflowing her loins until the trickling drops slipped down both thighs. Did he know what he was doing to her? Was any of this getting on him? Her face burned and her belly churned, but still the moisture built, developing into tears that her neglected pussy wept because he would not touch her there.
They reached his room and he all but punched the palm lock.
“Access granted,” the computer capitulated, but Kogan was already shoving to open the door that much faster. That he didn’t whack her head against the threshold was nothing short of a minor miracle, and one she barely noticed. By now, she was as eager as he was to be at their brief journey’s end. When he dropped her to her feet, she made a beeline for the shower, but he caught her belt-bound wrists within steps. A swipe of his arm cleared two books and an empty coffee mug from the sturdy metal table that stood as the only partition between his entryway, kitchen, and living room. The mug broke against the wall, but Piper didn’t care about that half as much as she did about being bent straight over the top of that table.
“Don’t move,” he told her, but she was already pushing back off it. She’d have run if she could—straight to the corner shower to check her teeth, pee, freshen up. She’d spent four hours crawling through the stifling hell of the subflooring, for God’s sake. She wasn’t a girly-girl, but even she had some pride. What Kogan had was the tail of the belt that held her, and he promptly shoved her back down again. “Ah ah,” he chuckled. “Bad girl. Daddy spanks.”
The huge flat of his hand cracked hard dead center across her butt, flattening both cheeks and stinging the flesh he then squeezed. Piper gritted her teeth, refusing to groan lest he think she was enjoying this. Which she was. Not that she wanted him to know it.
“Stop,” she growled.
“I’m just getting started.” He released her ass long enough to heave her further up over the table. Circling to the opposite side, he drew her taut by her own imprisoned arms. It stunned her when he hooked the wrap of the belt onto something below the far edge. Whatever it was, it caught the belt and held it—held her—as effectively as manacle chains hooked to a prison wall.
Piper tugged twice, astonished and, frankly, a little titillated at how little give there was, and back behind her he went. She stiffened when he caught her hips, kicking her feet wide apart and stepping in to see where they measured. The heady bulge of his cock, still confined behind the fastenings of his rough pants, ground against the naked folds of her sex. It was jaw-droppingly good. How she kept from making a sound, she honestly didn’t know.
“Good height.” His gruff thrust jolted her over the table, made the edge bite into her hips and her pussy sob for him all the more wetly. He smacked her ass again, and Piper strangled on her own moan. “Don’t move.”
“Y-y-you can’t do this,” she quavered, fighting to find, much less to gather, all those old familiar shreds of anger she was used to whenever she and Kogan became trapped within the same room. But that wasn’t happening now. Her anger wasn’t just shredded, it was gone. All she had now in the absence of it was this overwhelming trembling that only grew more pronounced with each caress that he gave her. And he gave so many, it was as if he couldn’t stop touching her. Her back, her ass. He cupped her pussy, closing his eyes as if that gripping hold were all he’d wanted for so long that he couldn’t bear now to have it at last.
“Say your safeword,” he told her.
Piper has been a bad girl. Piper needs a spanking.
Piper shook her head, her throat locking. She was insane. Her bottom trembled and her thighs shook. She rolled her lips, squeezing them so tightly shut that there was no way he would ever know how the thought of saying that back to him made her heart quicken and her blood sing.
“I love your stubbornness.” Kogan left her, but didn’t go far. They were the only two people on this salvage ship, but it was a ship that had at one time been made to house dozens. His quarters reflected that lack of personal space.
Without the luxury of partitions, the whole of his flat consisted of a single room. His bed, a desk and chair, and this table were the only furniture he had, apart from the built-in cabinet that doubled as both storage and kitchen space, and the showerhead that dropped from the ceiling directly above a step-down section of tiled floor, crowned with a drain. The toilet emerged from the wall only when the switch was pressed, and the wall only peeled back to reveal windows for the same reason. That he didn’t have his windows revealed right now probably had something to do with her having long ago assigned him quarters with a view of nothing but one gigantic fuselage and the underside of the ship wing. One had to flatten one’s nose to the glass just to catch a glimpse of a star. As Kogan came strutting back to her, homemade leg cuffs and a length of folded leather dangling from his hands, she couldn’t help but wonder if the long-delayed consequence of that past decision was about to bite her.
God, that look in his eyes. That burning, smirking, knowing glint that said he knew exactly what this was doing to her. Especially when he reached over to lay the doubled belt across her arms, directly in front of her nose. Supple, brown, well worn, and deceptively soft looking. Her ass positively crawled.
“I love belts.” He winked, and she trembled all the harder when he knelt down behind her. The cuffs clinked together as he selected which end to use first. “Implements of correction that one can wear, always at the ready.”
“What exactly do you think I should be corrected for?”
He pretended to think about it. “How about all the times you drove me to absolute distraction?”
