Orion's Belt - A Dark Sci-Fi Western Romance

Our lives are in peril. We both know that. What we do now is an act of rebellion against everything the authorities want us to feel. Love is the antidote to fear, a powerful tonic we don’t need to pay a single dinari for.

My thighs part to allow him deeper, his belt snug around my throat, reminding me who I belong to as he works his hand against my sex, the flat of his palm rubbing against my clit and lips, grinding them hard and then slapping me lightly between my legs with swats which don’t hurt, but do sting me into hip grinding need. Caught between his hand and his belt, I writhe like a needful little animal.

“I’m going to take you, girl,” he growls. “I’m going to take you so hard and so long you forget there are any other planets besides this one.”

He frees his cock from his pants, his thick rod so fucking hot as it glides against my wet sex. He is pulsing with need for me, his heartbeat making his cock throb against the tender lips he rubbed and slapped to a puffy readiness. He has to pull his fingers out to get his cock inside me, and that brief loss feels like forever.

I am soaked when he pushes inside me, the hard thrust of his cock spreading me wide in a single stroke. I let out a cry of shock and surprise as he claims me with an intensity I did not expect. He is ravaging me, using the belt to keep me in place, under control as his cock thrusts roughly inside me, drawing my lips out with him on the out stroke and then surging back inside my tender flesh.

In an instant, I have forgotten about everything. Nothing matters besides Orion, and having him inside me, being joined with him beneath the Imperium sky. He puts me on the ground, hands and knees, leather belt around my throat as he plunges inside me from behind time and time again. This is a dry valley, but I can hear the wet oasis of my pussy making the most obscene sounds as he ravages me.

This is an act of rebellion. We should be dead. By all rights, we should be swinging from gallows, or bleeding out on a main street, but damnit, we refuse to die. Orion is deep inside me, his balls slapping my clit with every rough thrust, that belt collar around my neck making me feel held and captured and taken and more than a little like an animal he owns.

It’s no bad thing to be owned by Orion. He takes care of what is his, and what is his cares for him back. That’s why his men are out there, laying down their lives, giving the Imperium hell, intervening every way they can, and it’s why I wouldn’t take the money and run. He’s not perfect. He makes mistakes. Sometimes he doesn’t know the right thing to say, but he is a good man. The best man, and he is making me feel that exquisite rippling pleasure which comes all the way from my toes and zips down my spine and leaves me panting with orgasmic energy.

We’re free. As free as we can be. And if we die, then we’ll die together, and right now, in the midst of his lust, I don’t care one bit if we do. Because I am loved, and I am no subject of the Imperium. I am Orion’s girl, and I will be his forever.

Chapter Eight

Josie

Getting the air machine isn’t as much trouble as I’d have thought it was. I don’t know what Atticus Bunch did after we fled that town, but he didn’t follow us, that’s for sure. It only takes three days for us to get to Flugzeug, and less than three minutes to bribe our way onto a light air ship. There ain’t many of these around because the Imperium likes to control the skies, but this one is ours.

There was a scuffle with the pilot which meant we had to leave him behind, but we know that this is our last stand, a flight taken out of desperation and perhaps, triumph. I have a feeling in the pit of my stomach that we’re going to win this. I don’t know how, but I believe it with everything I am.

“It’s a pretty country from up here,” I say, nudging Orion, who stands at the controls. “This must be how the Imperium sees Patch.”

“This ain’t how those bastards see anything,” he says. “They ain’t got eyes like us.”

“What does that mean?”

He just shakes his head and points toward the north. “I reckon we’ve got to be getting close.”

“More than close,” I say, a slow, sad smile spreading over my face. “We’re there. This is the ranch. Everything from here to the sea belongs to my Pa.”