“Don’t?” he growled. “Do you get to say that? I’m giving you exactly what a little virgin needs—a hard fuck.” He held her waist and thrust his cock, spearing her to the core.
“Yes,” she shrieked, as he stroked her pussy repeatedly. She grunted in time to his exertions and yelped in reply to the occasional smack of his palm against her raised bottom. The darkness in her soul crept out as he stripped away all of her inhibitions and eked out her vulnerabilities. No virgin should ever submit to such a rough fucking, as it would be cruel, but this scenario was a fantasy born out of trust and mutual understanding.
With the adrenaline came the pleasurable pain. He knotted her hair into his fist and pinned her beneath him. His body was so powerful—she’d no way to resist him, but it was also a protective cocoon. She knew in her heart that if she gave him the signal, showed him genuine fear, he’d stop in an instant. That was the trust they’d created over their long journey together. If this was an indication of their passions, the basis of marriage, she was his bride that night.
As he commanded her to come, the tension flew out of her and she held her breath, lingering on the plateau of her orgasm before the spasms inundated her in waves. The first was strong and overwhelming, causing her legs to buckle and her pussy to clench. More followed, merging into each other as they spiraled out of her clitoris, and across her belly and nipples.
Mason panted, still thrusting, maintaining a relentless pounding. The game was reaching its conclusion. She sensed him relaxing, catching his breath and containing his energy. There were hours to go and he would want to do more than play out fantasies.
“You’re mine,” he groaned, lingering for a moment inside her before withdrawing completely. “Turn over so I can make love to you.”
Smiling, she obeyed him. Pretending to be a virgin wasn’t quite the same as reality. It had been fun, but it also reminded her that she loved Mason for what he was—dominant, caring, and protective—but he certainly wasn’t the kind of man who would really force himself on an innocent girl. However, as much as she discovered submitting to him was life-affirming, she would always need room to breathe. Mason recognized this, telling her many times that as long as she tried her best, then he would be happy.
She stretched out and parted her legs for him to see what he’d done to her. As usual, she’d soaked him with her orgasm and the wetness leaked along her thighs. With a grin, he hunkered down between her legs and licked off her nectar, tasting her essence with obvious delight. Settling in, he dined on her pussy, lashing her folds and dipping inside her vagina. When he sucked on her clitoris, she stirred from her state of rapture and begged for an orgasm.
“Take it,” he ordered, “take them all.” He held her steady as she convulsed.
Rising over her, he slotted his body between her legs and entered her again. This time, he was leisurely, savoring her with long strokes of his cock. He used his hands gently, feeling her all over.
“Sweetheart,” he crooned. “I’m gonna miss this, miss you, so much. Don’t forget how you make me feel, Jade. I love you. You’re my mate.” He blurted out the last few words with firmer thrusts, delivering his cum with a cluster of spurts. “There,” he murmured, “it’s done.”
* * *
He wore his dress uniform when he handed Jade over to the Malimor border control. Relinquishing his responsibility for her was one of the hardest things he’d ever done. The officials at the spaceport made no comment as he told them she’d been an exemplary prisoner.
She stood between two guards, pressing her nails into her clenched palms—a technique she used to fight away the tears. Throughout the formal procedure they acted the part of marshal and fugitive, never once hinting that they were lovers and that she’d spent her time on board the Titan as his engineer.
“I have to deliver three fugitives to Novador,” he told the arresting officer. “So I will leave her in your charge. Take care of her.” He’d deliberately made no mention of her attempt at smuggling. Before arriving at Malimor, they’d ditched Stealth. There was no other way to hide the evidence of her crimes. She’d cried then as he hit the eject button, because for her, Stealth represented a failure. He didn’t see it that way, since her failure had resulted in their first encounter.
With a heavy heart, he backed out of the room, never letting go of her tear-drenched eyes. He wasn’t a man to show his emotions, but for a few seconds, he wanted to scoop her into his arms and cover her with kisses.
One last look, one final heart-wrenching exchange of longing and he turned on his heel.
Mason had no clue as to when they would next meet. He’d promised her he would come and find her. All she had to do was wait.
Chapter Fourteen
“Stop pacing, Jade,” her mother said as she crossed the living room for the umpteenth time that day. “Go out and get some fresh air.”
It was her mum’s answer to everything—fresh air—believing it would cure any kind of melancholy and Jade was certainly afflicted by it.
She couldn’t blame her mother, or father, for insisting on putting her life back on track. Ever since she’d arrived home, they’d fretted over her, made sure that she initially stuck to the conditions of her bail, then her probation, which the court had handed out in a display of lenience, mitigated by her obvious condition. However, one thing her parents had not done was show any anger over her abrupt departure and criminal activities. They’d welcomed her back with open arms, a humbling experience for Jade.
She accepted the wide-brimmed hat her mother held out for her with an acknowledging smile. Her mum worried too much.
She stepped out into the heat of the afternoon sun and wandered away from the house and into the orchards. Her parents grew nuts and dates. A successful enterprise, which her brother supported, and that morning her father and brother had gone to purchase more land to cultivate.
Jade picked up a fallen palm frond and used it as a fan. They heat didn’t usually bother her, but recently it had become problematic.
Her current levels of anxiety stemmed from the lack of communication. It had been days since Mason had last sent her a message. He’d warned her it wasn’t always possible, given the nature of his work—training new recruits. It was supposed to be a temporary post while he waited for his three fugitives to be tried. The respective judges had insisted Mason was present for their arraignments, and then, to his annoyance, the trials themselves.
The capturing of Krul had propelled Mason into the limelight, a role he hated. Pursued by the media, he’d often gone into hiding, another reason that made it hard for him to communicate with her. The new job at least gave him some privacy.
He’d promised he would give up the job and that he no longer held any allegiance to either the Federation or his home planet. But, as the days of their separation added up, she battled a growing sense of doubt that he would keep his promise. What would the Federation make of his resignation? Would the Federation refuse to release him from his duties or demand he honor his Stratum and choose a slave-wife back on Ixzar?
Every time those doubts rose to the surface, Jade was cross with herself. Not once, in all the letters he’d transmitted to her, had Mason shown any hint of backing out of his promise to find her.
He’d filled his let