Strangely, I could smell him, the scent oddly woodsy, making me want to crawl into his lap and lick him all over. I wanted his cock in my mouth. I wanted…
I glanced down at the very distinctive bulge in his pants, because I wanted it so damn bad. I clenched my core with ridiculously eager anticipation of his cock filling me.
“What the hell have you done to me? Are you trying to drug me? Using C-bomb to get a girl isn’t the way to go.”
His gaze raked over me before he released his hold, placing both hands back on the steering wheel.
“I don’t know what C-bomb is,” he replied.
“You don’t know what… then why do I feel…?”
He ignored my question as we pulled into the bride processing center parking lot. The first time I’d arrived, I had entered through the volunteer entrance, in handcuffs and had not seen the front entry. It was a nondescript building and the parking lot was deserted.
The second the car rolled to a stop, I was unbuckled with my door open, ready to bolt.
I made it three shaky steps before I was lifted from the ground. “No! Put me down!”
I wriggled in his hold, but he was all hard, solid muscle. And some metal bits.
“You are injured. I will tend your wounds, mate. Then I will finish your lesson.”
Lesson? What lesson? My head was screaming at me to argue with him, to force him to set me on my own two feet, but my body had other ideas. Strangely enough, the scent of his skin, so close to me, was a lure I couldn’t seem to ignore. I didn’t want to be put down and that meant what? That I’d hit my head? That I was losing so much blood that I was delirious?
That I was going insane?
My body was shaking, the three steps I’d taken revealing that I was indeed much weaker than I had suspected.
Nial carried me to the front doors of the processing center and pressed the call button on the building’s exterior. We were buzzed in immediately, as if the warden had been awaiting our arrival.
As soon as the doors closed behind us I gave in to my craving, pressing my nose to the heated skin of Nial’s neck and drowning in the heat and dark musk of his body. I whimpered and closed my eyes at his heavenly scent. It was an excellent way to distract me from the pain that seemed to grow worse by the second.
I opened my eyes when I heard hurried steps. The warden came up to us wearing jeans and a blouse instead of her usual coalition uniform. Her hair was loose around her shoulders and I frowned, realizing she wasn’t much older than I.
“You’re very pretty.”
Where had that come from? Was I drunk now, too?
She flushed, obviously pleased with my comments, her eyes darting up to Nial’s face, then quickly away, as if she were uncomfortable in his presence. Maybe she was. Maybe she wanted him for herself. I couldn’t blame the woman. If she felt half as… eager for him as I did, she probably wanted to climb up into his arms, too.
“Thank you, Jessica.” She glanced over my body, from head to toe, but I’d been shot in the back so I knew there wouldn’t be much for her to see except blood on my clothes. She looked to Nial. “Is she hurt badly?”
“Yes. I do not yet know the extent of her injuries, but while her mouth offers irritable and defiant words, she is weak and going into shock. Do you have a ReGen unit here?”
I wondered what that was, but couldn’t seem to muster the strength to ask.
“No. I have
a small ReGen wand, but not a complete submersion unit. Follow me.” She turned on her heel and took off at a slow jog, Nial’s long legs easily keeping pace as she led us to one of the exam rooms I’d seen during my processing. The warden pointed to a long exam table. “Lay her there. We will need to remove her clothing.”
What? No.
Nial set me down as if I were made of porcelain. Which was sweet, until he lifted both hands to the collar of my black shirt and ripped it in half, tugging it down my arms and dropping it to the floor like it was a worthless rag.
“Hey!”
I lifted my arms to cover myself, but he wasn’t looking at me as he had when I’d run into him on the street. There was no heat in his gaze now, only clinical precision.
He didn’t respond to my protest but pulled off my shoes and dropped them to the floor with two loud thunks. Placing his hands on either side of my cargo pants, he ripped them in half down the crotch with seemingly zero effort, like tearing tissue paper. He pressed his hand to the center of my chest, forcing me to lie back before moving to my feet. As I pushed up onto my elbows, he deftly tugged the two halves of my pants off my body leaving me bare but for the pale pink bra and bikini panties that were covered with tiny black polka dots and trimmed with black lace. Not usual for a recon uniform, but being the only female among almost all males, lacy and frilly underthings were my sole interest in vanity. Since no man was interested in my exterior—my prickly attitude, bossiness, and tomboyish ways—the lingerie was just for me.