Liana was so shocked she might have turned and fled. Instead, she grew bolder, grabbing the base of that long organ and with only a second’s thought, taking it into her mouth. The rigid length slid over her tongue until she could take no more of it, and then she suctioned.
He made a sound. The sound of a man in torment. Her own body vibrated with yearning as she drank up the new salty taste in her mouth. She had never tasted a man, had never even desired to, yet she was sure the taste of this Foher would linger on her tongue forever.
His flesh crammed her mouth and while her tongue explored the folds, she could feel every pulse in his shaft.
She burned. Throbbed like something raw and weakened. And ached to take it inside her.
His hips began to move, pumping his huge, delicious cock into her mouth. Her own hips rocked with eagerness, mimicking his motions by instinct. Her sex tightened, convulsing around that vacant channel that throbbed to be filled.
The deep, sultry sounds they both made ricocheted against the crumbling walls of the little room and hit Liana with an even fiercer need.
Images of tearing her clothes off and mounting him, of taking that part of his body and putting it inside the hottest part of hers…they danced across her mind, inviting, encouraging. But shame came stronger. Quicker.
She’d been in captivity too many years. Remaining a virgin for so long had probably not been healthy. She was out of sorts and plain gone crazy.
She tore herself away from the Foher so fast she fell on her hands and buttocks, her breathing now as labored as his. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” she rushed, color crawling up her throat.
He thrashed against the chains so violently she could only gape for a moment. The iron manacles dug into his wrists, a trail of fresh blood dripping down the inside of one muscled arm.
“You’re hurting yourself,” she cried. “Stop it, stop!”
When he did, it was only to stare down at her with eyes so hot she could’ve burst into flames under that stare. She wrapped her arms around herself, lowering her lashes to escape his gaze. She rose, her legs unsteady. “I shouldn’t be here.”
Her eyes lingered on the ground while she got herself together. “Tomorrow they will bring me to you,” she said after several deep, calming breaths. “Please save yourself and do as they tell you.”
He turned wilder, thrashing again. The chains rattled until they deafened her ears and Liana suddenly feared he would break them, charge toward her like a horny beast and ravage her right there.
The way she felt now, she was sure she would love it! But he frightened her. She’d never heard anyone breathe so hard.
Afraid to look at the handsome Foher any longer, Liana hurried to the door, the sharp sounds of his rattling chains following her.
Roderick was still slumped outside the prison door, clutching his empty bottle of wine to his chest. Every Foher they captured was reason for the humans to celebrate. They had captured quite a few lately, and Liana knew exactly what was to follow.
She couldn’t allow it. Couldn’t allow another Foher to die.
Much less him.
But it had been years since she’d had the courage to formulate an escape plan for herself, much less a prisoner. Many failed attempts had ridden her of any fantasies of escaping. Now her mind balked at the notion. But she had to think of something. If not for herself, then for this Foher.
She had to get him out, or pray to God he’d understood her and would do as commanded. Maybe then the humans would finally leave the Fohers alone. Maybe then they would take Liana back home.
The sound of male laughter echoed across the darkened courtyard. The men were playing their usual poker game around a rickety wooden table, drinking and smoking cigars. They had their faces hidden behind their cards, stealing suspicious glances from one to the other. The game held them all spellbound.
Liana lowered her face and made her way toward the west end of a large building to her left, where her sleeping quarters were. The twin moons were almost full, gracing the sky with their faded white orbs. They sat next to each other, one slightly higher than the other, spilling their light over the virgin land below.
Before she could round the corner of the massive building toward the back door, a primitive, native shout rang in her ears, spurring her heart into a gallop. Expletives ran free among the men before a mass of chaos erupted. Footsteps. More expletives. Gunshots.
Captain Lyle McCormack, a young man who claimed to be her cousin even though she had no wish to be related to the likes of him, spotted her across the stampeding men and the confusion. His hair was pulled back into the usual greasy ponytail, a scruffy beard covering his jaw. The sharp, horrifying scowl that settled on his brow was suddenly as terrifying as the nearby gun blasts. “What are you doing here, goddamn you, get inside!” He ran for her and shoved her aside as a huge, bald Foher came charging toward him.
She stumbled over her skirt and fell to the ground as Lyle and the Foher collided then fiercely began to punch each other’s guts right in front of her.
Liana’s heart was about to burst out of her throat.
The visual they made, the sound of male grunts and fists pounding into flesh, a battered body landing with a loud thump beside her—it was so near, so fast, so frightening.
Belatedly and to her horror, she realized it was Lyle sprawled on the ground, completely unconscious.
Fohers were speaking before her, their harsh, accented words indistinguishable. They were arguing, a word popping up frequently in their discussion. Mipe. Mipe.