Tamed: A Prison Planet Romance (The Condemned Series Book 4) Page 11

  A swirl of air at her upper back left her bracing. Part of her hoped this time she never woke up from what was coming.

  A hand landed on her skin. Except the touch was soft, not hard.

  Her breath left her in a rush. Goose bumps rose on her skin.

  “You expecting something else, wild thing?” Her captor’s fingers danced across her shoulder blades.

  “W-what you do?”

  “You know exactly what I’m doing—and why.”

  Her eyes went wide. Not that. Not now.

  “Hit me!” she screamed. They were enemies. He was a deceiver. They could never be on the same side. He was making her doubt. Making her question Talg and her loyalty. She wanted a return to her clarity of purpose. She wanted judgment for her failures.

  “Always so quick to hide. Behind pain. Behind that damn pelt.” His fingers trailed the inside of each rope design on her back, the contrast between the gentleness of his caress and the coarseness of the rope making her arousal burn even brighter. “But you don’t deserve to be punished for your origins, Nayla.”

  She screamed in rage.

  She resented his decree, and the kindness in his gaze as he delivered it.

  She hated, too, how the rasp of his rough hands slipping beneath the coils made her body sing. It wasn’t right when he’d ground her soul to nothing.

  “Why should you be punished for something you can’t control?”

  Her skin tingled as his skillful fingers skated over the curve at her hips and the rise of her lower back.

  She held back a moan and glared at him instead.

  “You’ll answer me eventually.” His fingers played across the crease where her bottom met her leg. “I’m under your skin now, baby. In those cells and sinew. Deeper even than Talg, and I’m not stopping until I’ve ripped that bastard’s influence from your soul like the roots of a weed.”

  She pressed her cheek to the flat of the bench, trying to absorb the coolness. It didn’t work. His fingertips descended in long, slow strokes that ghosted over her loins and down the outside of her thighs. “Can you feel me, beautiful? Touching you. Sinking into your skin. Worshipping you.”

  His big calloused hands encircled her ankles spreading her wider, increasing her vulnerability. Her breathing hitched.

  “This is the only kind of punishment you deserve.” He trailed the back of his hand up the inside of her thigh, rousing the sensitive inner flesh to life. Her body jerked against the rough ropes, helpless to do anything but feel. Her core throbbing with need once more.

  He didn’t mean it. He couldn’t. And yet…all he’d ever brought her was exquisite pleasure.

  His hand skimmed upward, past where she needed it most, to lay across the base of her neck in a light but firm hold.

  “You still with me, Nayla?”

  She snarled up at him. She would not let him confuse her. She would not let him reduce her to sensation alone.

  He smiled. “There’s my girl. Back with me. Fierce as ever.” The hand not pinning her neck to the bench petted her hair like she was a wild Sharluff baby. Soft. Coaxing. “I think you’re ready to push a few more of those fault lines you’re so desperate to cling to.”

  He gave her no more warning than that.

  Slap. She cried out, the smack of flesh against flesh echoed through the cave as his hand connected with her bottom—only to realize it hadn’t hurt at all.

  All he’d given her was a slight tap, followed by a caress of heavy pressure as he kneaded her flesh. Coaxing forward that same terrible throbbing heat she’d only just managed to bring under heel.

  Stretched at she was, his one hand still holding her neck, his other working the flesh near her core, she was completely mastered, totally at his mercy, and yet there was no agony.

  All that savage strength and brutality and he’d…tempered it. Transformed it into something shocking and pleasurable.

  Her breathing hitched. “I don’t… What you do? Th-that not pain.”

  “That’s right. I know a thousand ways to cause pain, and a thousand more ways to touch you that will only bring pleasure. The latter is all you’ll ever get from me.”

  Her body started to shake. “N-no. Th-that’s not how it should be.”

  “Talg’s not here now. It’s only you and me.” Another tap. Not painful. Just forceful. Dominant. Attention-grabbing. Enticing. “I handle things differently.”

  She bit back a moan.

  “I’m not like him.” His fingers danced over the rosy heat of her bottom, her skin as hot and sensitive as a thousand suns. “I will never deliberately cause you pain. Until you believe that, you and I will keep running around in circles.”

  Her heart slammed against her ribs, confusion a wild riot inside her chest.

  “If you truly believe there is punishment to be doled out,” continued Grif, “it will come from me. My way.”

  Slap. This tap carried a bit more heft. But no pain. Only white-hot heat that seared through her body and left her gasping.

  “Do you know why I’m chastising you with pleasure, Nayla?” He squatted by her head, his fingers brushing back a stray hair and tucking it behind her ear. “Because you refuse to see that you don’t owe that Talg bastard a heartbeat more of your suffering and pain. He does not deserve your loyalty or your strength. You don’t need to endure pain to prove yourself to him. You don’t need to endure punishment at all.”

  “Y-you try to trick me. Make me tell you.”

  “Yes, I want the location of those missing females. But I want a hells of a lot more from you than that.”

  His demands scared her. No one had ever wanted much from her at all.

  She snarled up at him.

  Instead of anger, she saw only sympathy in his gaze. “You’re angry and lost and scared. At me. At Talg. At your Ancients.” Each decisive word struck her chest like an arrow. “We all fucking deserve it. But that anger you’re carrying against yourself? That self-contempt and blame that’s keeping you from seeing that trying to please that bastard is never going to give you the outcome you want? You’ve got to let go of that.”

  Her eyes went wide. “S-stop.”

  “It will always be the truth between us.” A warm hand glided up and down her back. Anchoring her even as it fanned the flames she never could extinguish when he was near. “A part of you already knows what I’m going to say is true. Has known since I touched you and survived Talg’s curse. Maybe even before. But you never had a safe place to land before. Now you do.”

  Her breathing hitched. How could she hate and want his touch all at once? How could she crave his words and yet feel enraged by them at the same time?

  He nudged her feet apart, spreading her legs wider, making her thighs tremble.

  “It’s gonna hurt, baby.” Grif’s voice was a dark whisper near her ear. “Wrestling with the truth always does. More than a strike. But it’s what happens after you break that matters most. Remember that. Remember, too, that I’ll be here every step of the way. Me and my savage Other blood, the same kind that flows through your veins.”

  She wailed—her body flashing hot, then cold, despite the fact he hadn’t moved his hands.

  Could it be?

  The cracks inside her chest spread as if the ground itself would give way any moment.

  What was true? What was false? She wasn’t sure anymore.

  Her breath came faster and faster.

  Talg had always said she was at fault. That the Ancients decreed she must pay for the Other taint in her blood. Now Grif was saying something no one had ever said to her before: that she was not to blame.

  Was there a chance Grif was right? That her Gazi status did not make her unworthy?

  Had she allowed herself to be shamed and abused not because of any greater Ancient power, but because of the bitter hate of one male who could not let go of the past?

  A sharp stab pierced her chest. More painful than any strike.

  This did hurt. Just as Grif had promised.
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br />   “Talg had a grudge against you. He told you lies and hid behind false claims, and I want to know why.”

  Her breathing hitched.

  His tone gentled. “There’s no need for you to keep being so strong, to hold it all in. Let me carry some of that burden. I can handle it. I promise.” His finger slid down to her wet center.

  She bit back a moan.

  “That’s right. Let me show you what you truly deserve.” The rough knead of his hand against her woman’s center made her arousal flare.

  Panting, she rose onto her tiptoes. Spread her legs as wide as the restraints allowed. “P-please.”

  Tap.

  She screamed as pure pleasure slammed through her. The controlled, light crack of his palm against her swollen wet folds was like nothing she’d experienced before—and everything she wanted.

  Another light slap to her swollen center. “Tell me why this bastard Talg has it out for you.”

  18

  Nayla broke. She could not stay silent any longer, the need to tell Grif as strong a compulsion as the urge to lift her hips and spread her legs wide, to soak in every bit of attention and pleasure she could.

  “M-my mother Talg mate. Other find her in cave and rut her.” She confessed her shame.

  A rough inhale. A muttered curse.

  “Th-that why Talg punish me. That why he hates me.” She sobbed against her bonds, her pleasure mingling with pain. “Talg kill male, but not before he hurt Talg mate bad. She survive, but never the same. Join Void bringing me into world. Talg near madness. Wife and hope destroyed by Others. Talg always say Ancients choose save wrong life.”

  Saying it aloud after so long stung like the tip of a spear beneath her ribs. Making it real. Making it hurt. Just like Grif had said it would.

  “Your pack should have defended you. They left you in the hands of a man twisted by hate.” His hand stroked her head once more. “I know how brutal that can be. I told you that before, wild thing. My sister and I were raised by a man like Talg. I know how hard it is to escape that kind of cruelty.”

  Her heart stuttered.

  “Talg was wrong. Your Ancients chose to save you, and I can see why. You’re strong and brave and good. Talg is the one who made a mistake.”

  “Talg say my looks insult to Ancients.” Now that she’d started, she couldn’t stem the tide of words rushing out. “But other pack tell me I look like her, Talg mate. I-I think that why he…he refuse allow others to rut me, but take me himself.” Her voice had gone whisper soft. “C-call me her name during. Then, a-always so angry after.”

  “Ah, Nayla, baby, you’re killing me.”

  She sobbed harder. “That why I told you not touch me. I cursed. Talg—ˮ

  “Do you like when I touch you?” His fingers teased the curve of her thighs, sending white-hot shivers straight to her woman center. Reminding her that she wasn’t with Talg now, but with Grif, who thought she was strong and brave and good. “Do you like when I lay my hands on you and work your sweet pussy, no anazi between us?”

  Shame burned through her. “I-I…I should not.”

  “Forget should. Do you like it?”

  “Yes,” she admitted. “After so long, t-to feel is…different.” Wonderful. Amazing. Miraculous. “But Talg—”

  “Fuck Talg. I’ll touch you whenever I want.”

  Something inside her loosened. Ancients help her, but she liked hearing that. Even from her savage Other.

  Her body shook harder.

  “It’s okay, Nayla.” Gentle hands brushed her skin and then, before she could fully process what was happening, she was pulled up from the bench and wrapped in strong arms. Her captor’s solid chest an anchor during the storm.

  “You did so well.” A warm hand cupped the back of her head, stroking her hair as she leaned against him. Comforting her, like she’d once done for Sharluff. “I know it hurt to say aloud, but you were brave, as always.”

  Awed, broken, sore, and bleeding on the inside, she burrowed in closer. She’d thought her captor would use her weakness to hurt her. Instead, he soothed her.

  Once her tears had slowed, he tipped her chin upward.

  “Is that why you were at the Other camp?” Relentless as ever, he parried from a different angle, knocking her farther off balance. “Were you trying to prove yourself and please Talg while helping your pack?”

  “Y-yes,” she admitted. It was easier to tell him now. “They starving. Send me to get food. If I please, I think…”

  “You thought Talg would let you in. Let you take off the anazi.”

  “Y-yes.” The single word emerged in rushed rasp. “W-we need get workers, too. Lost so many. Need help.”

  “Why did you choose the women? Why them?”

  “I…I heard what they called. Cunts. Sluts. Kafi. I—I called same many times.” Her voice broke. “Talg say bring back male Others, but I-I could not. Could not leave females to suffer when I had chance to give them faster, more honorable death.”

  Strong hands stroked down her spine. “So you took them because you thought you were doing them a favor.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement, and the pride in his voice sent a whole new burn racing beneath her skin. “To do for them what no one had done for you.”

  “Yes… No.” She could not pretend. Not with him. Not after hearing the respect in his tone. “Yes, I-I took them because I did not want see them rutted and used, but that…that was not the only reason. I...I can’t tell more though. I can’t.”

  Even if Talg had been cruel to her for his own reasons, she couldn’t betray the pack. Even if a part of her wanted to please her captor for all the kind things he had said to her, she couldn’t risk their lives.

  “Nayla.” Her name was a low, growled warning. “You won’t. That’s a big fucking difference from can’t.”

  She shook her head.

  He sighed and, lifting her easily, carried her back to the seat where he’d had her on his lap.

  She didn’t bother to struggle. Being held close in his arms as his big muscles shifted and flexed against her skin felt too good.

  They reached the chair. He settled her into his lap with ease. Only this time, he positioned her so that they were face-to-face, her legs spread wide over his thighs, her nose at his chin, her lips close to the corded muscles of his neck.

  It was so private. So personal. A thousand times more intimate than being strapped down, his gaze inescapable as it bored into hers, his scent and body surrounding her, holding her.

  “Talg is never going to let you in.” His hands cupped her cheeks as he stared down at her. “I know bullies like him. He’s never going to allow you to remove the anazi, either. No matter how many tests you pass. No matter how many punishments you endure. I know you want to protect your kind, but who is busy protecting you? You deserve so much more than he is ever going to give you.”

  Her breathing hitched. “Y-you say such n-nice things.” Panting, shaking, she tried to clear her mind. “No one ever say to me before.”

  “You have no idea how nice I want to be to you, wild thing.” Voice low, he skimmed his palm down her belly.

  Her back arched, a groan of need wrenching from her.

  She opened her legs wider. “Sh-show me.”

  “Hells, Nayla.” His green eyes darkened with desire. “You have me crossing so many lines I swore I never would.” His rough palm cupped her mons. Possessive. Merciless.

  “Yes.” Her gaze locked on his hand, the sight of his thick, veined wrist between her thighs sending her arousal higher. She was crossing lines, too. Just like he was.

  His grip at her thighs tightened as his other hand slid between her swollen folds. “I want you to know only nice. Only pleasure.”

  “Y-yes.” Something was building inside her. A monstrous cresting wave that threatened to drown her. To splinter her apart.

  It was as if she tottered on the precipice of something life changing.

  “Tell me the rest.” His rasped voice was an anch
or in the surging storm. “You’ve had to carry this burden alone for too long.”

  Grif was strong. He was forceful and knowing, yet he hadn’t hurt her.

  Maybe he was right.

  Maybe just this once she could trust him—and bask in the pleasure of his touch. “Th-hey in eastern quadrant.” Her body shuddered as he worked her needy core faster “Across the canyon. Hidden in cave at bottom of h-highest cliff with two round domes at top. P-please.”

  “That’s good, Nayla.” His voice gentled, but his fingers never stopped. “What about guards?”

  The pressure built and built, her body winding tighter as her toes curled.

  “Tell me.” A light tap against her clit.

  She sucked down a desperate breath and tried to remember. “G-guards? Th-three at most. Lazy. Forced to watch because not good hunters.”

  “Good girl.” He worked her clit faster. “Such a fucking good girl.”

  “Grif!” She ground against his fingers, his praise adding to her pleasure. She had never been a good girl before.

  “That’s right, wild thing. Say my name. I’m right here with you. Doing every nice thing you deserve and more. You aren’t to blame for anything that happened. I know exactly what you need.” Tap. Right on her swollen, needy clit.

  Her body jerked, arched, her mouth opening on a silent scream as indescribable pleasure slammed through her.

  Limitless.

  Exquisite.

  The rush of sensation lit up every cell and sinew, shattering her into a thousand pieces, hurtling her body through space until she was truly one with the Void.

  No pain. No fear or sorrow or loneliness. Only pure pleasure.

  She floated in silver, shimmering paradise.

  How had she never known such a thing was possible?

  She had no idea how much time passed before the rough rasp of a familiar voice rolled across her skin like a purr, coaxing her back toward gravity, sound, and scent.

  “You did so good, baby. So good.”

  She drifted down from the stars, some part of her registering that she was in Grif’s arms, flopped against his chest, held as if she was something precious.