Imprisoned by Evangeline Anderson
“You…you do?” Ari whispered.
He nodded.
“That’s the source of your sweet scent, after all. But as I said, I’ll try to make it quick. Now spread for me, little one and just relax.”
Ari tried to do as he said but it was extremely difficult to relax when she felt so naked and so vulnerable. She’d never had a man go down on her before. Both of her previous sexual encounters had been brief, fumbling affairs and neither of her lovers had offered to lick or taste her.
And it’s not like Lathe is offering to lick or taste me now, she told herself sternly. He’s just covering my scent. He’s just…
“Oh!” The soft little moan was drawn from her lips because Lathe was rubbing his mouth against her mound now, his sensuous lips caressing her outer pussy in a way that made Ari feel weak in the knees.
Then he started on her slit. But his actions were different now—more like kissing than rubbing. He pressed his mouth to the top of her sensitive mound and then began to move down slowly, as though he was trying to be thorough and cover every bit of her slightly open slit. Was it her imagination or was he lingering over the place where the tight little button of her clit peaked from between her outer folds? For a moment, Ari almost thought she felt the brush of his tongue there. But that couldn’t be right, could it?
Lathe kissed all the way down her pussy from top to bottom but when he drew back, he was frowning.
“What…what’s wrong?” Ari asked breathlessly. “Is there a problem?”
“I’m afraid so. You appear to be a numalla.”
“A what?” Then Ari remembered what he meant. A female who gets really wet. Oh my Goddess—am I wet?
Looking down at herself she was ashamed to see that her pussy lips were glistening in the dim light of the cell.
“Oh Goddess,” she gasped in embarrassment and tried to close her thighs. But Lathe caught her—his big hands on her knees—and held her open.
“Don’t Ari.” His voice was low and rough. “It’s beautiful…you’re beautiful. Unfortunately all the honey you’re making carries your scent very strongly.” He looked up at her. “I’ll have to lick it away. That way I can erase your scent and leave my own in its place.”
“If…if you think you really need to,” Ari said, blushing.
He nodded. “I do. But I’m going to have to spread your pussy lips open to get to all of the honey. Do you understand, Ari?” He held her eyes with his. “I’m going to have to spread your pussy open and lick you out completely.”
“Goddess…” she whispered. She felt nervous and shy but what else could she do but submit to him? “All right,” she told him at last. “I…I trust you, Lathe. If you say that’s the way it has to be, then go ahead and do it.”
“Open for me then, little one,” he growled softly. “Let me spread your pussy and lick away every last drop of your honey.”
Trembling and moaning, Ari parted her legs even further, baring herself completely as long, strong fingers spread her pussy lips, exposing her inner folds to the big Kindred.
“Gods, so beautiful,” he muttered hoarsely. “So wet, my numalla.”
Then he leaned forward and lapped at her pussy—his tongue bathing her inner folds completely as he licked away her juices.
Ari gasped and arched her back as his warm, wet tongue slid over her tender, secret flesh. He covered her in long, rough strokes, apparently attempting to be thorough and get every drop. But every time she felt his tongue drag over the tender bud of her clit, Ari’s inner muscles clenched and she felt fresh wetness as her body responded to his intimate caress. Though she tried to stop herself, she could feel her pleasure growing with each rough, thorough swipe of his tongue until she throbbed and ached and her muscles tensed with need.
At last Lathe drew back, frowning.
“This isn’t working,” he growled. “Every time I lick you, you get wetter.”
“I…I can’t help it,” Ari whispered. “I know you’re only doing it to spread your scent on me but…but it feels so good.”
“Feels good to me too, little one,” he murmured, looking up at her. “Your pussy is so soft and sweet I could lick you all night—but we don’t have time for that.” He sighed. “I think I’m going to have to make you come.”
“You…what?” Ari bit her lip. “But why—?”
“As long as your pleasure is still building, your pussy will keep making honey,” Lathe explained. “But if I can satisfy your need, your body should begin to calm down and stop making so much.”
“I understand,” Ari murmured. “I just…I’m not sure…”
“Just relax,” Lathe told her. “I’m going to use my fingers to spread my scent inside you and to help you come at the same time. Then I’ll clean you up with my tongue and we’ll go.”
Ari nodded and tried to let some of the tension ease from her body. But the moment Lathe began to lick her again, she felt her pussy clench and answer the caress of his tongue with a fresh burst of wetness.
“So sweet and wet and juicy, my little numalla,” she heard the big Kindred murmur between licks. “Gods, if only I had all night to give you pleasure…”
Then he looked up at her. Holding her eyes, he sucked his index and middle fingers into his mouth, getting them thoroughly wet. When he withdrew them, he nodded at Ari.
“Get ready, little one. I’m going to enter your pussy now—going to fuck you with my fingers, as deeply as I can to spread my scent and make you come.”
“Yes, Lathe…” Biting her lip, Ari arched her back and opened herself for him, ready for his invasion.
“That’s good, sweetheart,” he growled softly and she felt his long, strong fingers press inside her, filling her deeply until he reached the end of her channel. “That’s good, just spread your legs and let me in.”
Ari did as he said, fisting her hands in the thin blanket on either side of her as Lathe bent between her thighs and lapped her open pussy while he thrust deeply into her with his fingers.
Her hips twisted and her back arched as she gave in to the overwhelming pleasure. She could feel his fangs, long and sharp, bracketing her throbbing clit but somehow Lathe managed not to bite her—not even to scratch her with their deadly tips.
Ari wished he would lose some of his iron control. She wanted him to bite her again—wanted the exquisite pleasure-pain of his sharp fangs sinking into her flesh and the burst of brilliant sensation as his essence coursed through her veins and made her come again and again…
But Lathe didn’t need to sink his fangs into her to make her come, she soon found. As he sucked her tender clit between his lips and lashed it with his tongue, he also thrust deeply into her, filling her pussy with his long fingers until she was nearly sobbing with desire and need.
“Lathe…oh Goddess, yes, Lathe—yes!”
Somehow her hands found their way from the blanket to his hair and then she was clutching him to her frantically as she arched upward to meet his tongue and fingers…as she surrendered herself completely to the pleasure he was giving her.
Coming, she thought. Goddess, I’m coming so hard…
“Lathe,” she cried brokenly. “Oh, Lathe…please…yes!”
Her lower back arched right off the bunk and her grip tightened in Lathe’s hair so hard it must have hurt, but he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, Ari heard a muffled growl of approval come from his throat as he held her close and kept lapping and sucking and pumping, guiding her through her orgasm with a firm, sure hand and never letting her go until she’d had enough.
Lathe enjoyed her pleasure much more than he should have.
You’re only doing this to cover her scent, he reminded himself. But when her little fists closed tight in his hair and he heard her calling his name it was all he could do to keep himself from sinking his fangs into her flesh to claim her as his own. Better yet, he wanted to use his cock instead of his fingers on her—to fill her completely and bite at the same time, bonding her to him, making Ari his irrevo
She doesn’t want that, he told himself roughly. She doesn’t feel for you as you feel for her. She was only pretending—just playing a part.
Somehow that hurt worse than the way she had caused him to question himself. “I’m falling in love with you,” he had told her, and he hadn’t been lying. Ari had professed to return his feelings but now he was sure she had been faking that, just like she’d been faking everything else.
But just because he was certain Ari had been pretending to care for him, didn’t mean his own emotions had been fake. Even as he cleaned her thoroughly and gently with his tongue, lapping up the rest of her honey, Lathe knew he still wanted her—still cared for her.
Not that it mattered.
After they got out of BleakHall, they would go their separate ways. Ari and her brother would go back to Phobos and he would go on to the Mother Ship and present all the evidence he had collected using the tiny recorder hidden in his ID tag. He would probably be so busy helping prepare the case against Mistress Hellenix and the rest of the Mistresses on the Board of BleakHall that he would barely notice Ari’s absence.
You don’t really believe that, whispered a little voice in his head. When she goes, she’ll leave a fucking black hole in your heart and you know it.
Lathe pushed it away as he straightened up and wiped his chin and mouth on the sleeve of his trustee jumpsuit.
“There. Finished,” he said, trying to make his voice brusque and impersonal.
“Oh…” Ari blinked, her large, dark eyes dazed. “I…” She looked up at him. “I thought you were going to bite me again.”
“No,” Lathe said shortly. “Biting is for healing or claiming. This was neither of those things.”
“Oh,” she whispered again and began fumbling for her jumpsuit. “Okay. Well, is my scent covered now?”
“As much as possible,” Lathe told her. “I did my best—the fact that you’re a numalla didn’t make it easy.”
“I’m sorry,” Ari murmured. “I didn’t…don’t mean to be.”
“Don’t apologize,” Lathe murmured. “You can’t help how wet your soft little pussy gets, Ari.”
“I…I guess not.” She looked down, her cheeks coloring in a blush.
Gods, he could still taste her salty-sweet flavor on his tongue—she was so damn delicious. He had the sudden urge to take her in his arms and kiss her—to share her own secret taste with her. But he squashed the impulse immediately and forced himself to turn away from her.
“It’s time to go,” he told her. “Past time. Hurry up—put on your jumpsuit. We have to get down to the climate controls on the first floor of the prison.”
“All right.” Ari got up, still looking slightly dazed, and scrambled back into her baggy, prison-issue jumpsuit.
Seeing the hint of her curves under the coarse orange and blue fabric, Lathe wondered again how he could have ever thought she was male. He remembered the way he’d thought he saw her breasts under her bath towel…and how a glimpse of the fake holo-shaft had made him change his mind and think he was seeing things.
I’ll never take anything or anyone at face value again, he vowed to himself. And I’ll never forget that females are seldom what they seem.
“Come on,” he said as soon as she was dressed. “Let’s go.”
Ari jumped off the bunk and followed him, out into the darkness of BleakHall.
Thirty-Nine
The corridors and stairs were dark but they weren’t cold—not yet anyway. As they hurried silently along, Ari estimated they were still within their thirty minute grace period. She wondered how much of it was left—how long had the big Kindred spent between her thighs, licking and kissing her and covering her with his scent?
Stop thinking about it, she ordered herself. It didn’t mean anything. Lathe doesn’t care for you anymore now that he knows what a liar you are!
But despite his anger at her, he hadn’t been rough with her. In fact, he had been gentle and sweet, bringing her to orgasm and lapping up her honey with a warm tongue she could still somehow feel between her thighs.
Forget about it, she told herself angrily. What you ought to be planning is how to get Jak out of the hole.
She hadn’t been entirely truthful with Lathe when she’d told him it was a simple matter of finishing the wiring to get her brother’s cell door open. There was also the matter of the thick, high-density padlock still clasped around the door’s latch.
But I know how to get the lock off, if only—
“Here we are.” Lathe’s deep voice broke her train of thought and she realized they were down the steps and standing in front of the door to the Infirmary. To one side was a lighted compu-interface—one of the few accessible outside the guards’ station. Not that it mattered—the interface was covered in thick plasti-glass so the prisoners couldn’t break the security shield around it. Even if they could have broken through, it was supposed to be impossible for even the most genius hacker to get into the system.
Except it seemed that Lathe had found a way in.
Going into the Infirmary, he returned with one of the battered trustee tablets. After typing in a series of commands, he frowned.
“We got here just in time, the cold air is set to start blowing in about two minutes.” He tapped some more. “There—I’ve set it to scan my ID tag before the climate control comes on. As long as I stand in front of the interface with my tag in its sights, it will just keep scanning and scanning and never turn itself on…I hope, anyway.” He looked grim.
“Thank you,” Ari said. “I’ll go get Jak and be right back. Just…just wait for me, all right?”
“I won’t leave until you’re back,” Lathe promised and she knew he would keep his word.
“Thank you, Lathe,” she said again, daring to put her hand on his arm. “I know I don’t deserve your help after…after what I did but—”
He cut off her words by leaning down and taking her mouth in a hot, breathless kiss. When he pulled back, he looked down in Ari’s eyes, his turquoise gaze troubled and intense.
“Just come back to me, little one,” he growled hoarsely. “I don’t like sending you down into the lashers’ den all by yourself. Be careful, be quick, and come back alive.”
“I…I will,” Ari promised breathlessly. Could it be that he still cared for her? That he still felt something under the anger? But she had no time to think about that now. She had to get Jak and get out of here.
“I’m starting the override now.” Lathe turned to the climate control interface and shifted so that his prison ID tag was squarely in view of its sensor. “Go,” he said, speaking over his shoulder. “Hurry, Ari—I don’t know how long this will last.”
The words, I love you, hovered on the tip of her tongue but Ari swallowed them back down again. Kiss or no kiss, she was certain the big Kindred didn’t want to hear that right now.
“I’ll be back soon,” she said instead. Then she turned and took off at a run. It was going to be a race to get Jak out and get back in time—a race she would either win or die running.
Forty
I need the torch—the one in Stubbins’ tool box, Ari told herself as she ran. The wiring would be simple to fix but in order to get Jak’s cell door open, she would also have to cut through the massive padlock that kept him in. And the blowtorch she’d seen in the Spice Lords’ tool box was the only way she could think to do that.
The question was, how could she get to it?
Ari had no idea but she sent up a prayer as she ran lightly through the darkened corridors of the prison.
Please, Goddess of Mercy—help me do what I came to do. Help me rescue my brother and get both of us out of here alive!
There was no answer but she felt a warm surge of confidence and put on a burst of speed. Soon she found herself under the stairwell where Stubbins held court every day.
The faded red toolbox was sitting squarely in the middle of the folding table where Stubbins had no doubt left it. He had often to
For a moment, Ari could see him vividly—licking his thumb and pressing it to the end of a hammer or a wrench or any of the other hundred tools in the box and then passing it to her.
His DNA, she thought as she opened the massive tool box and looked inside. I need his DNA to activate the torch or I’m getting nothing but an almighty big shock. Please Goddess, help me find a way.
The hand-held blow torch was lying in the top compartment looking insolent.
Touch me if you dare, it seemed to say. But you’ll never get me—not without Stubbins.
Ari searched frantically around but there was nothing to help her. No way to get the torch. She was just about to reach into the box, hoping that maybe a tiny bit of the Spice Lords boss’s DNA might still be clinging to the touch button, when she heard a voice.
“Look again, daughter. Look for what you need.”
Ari jumped and looked around but there was no one there—she was alone under the stairwell. Who had spoken to her? The voice had been warm and powerful and strangest of all feminine. But she was the only female here in BleakHall so who—?
Just at that moment her eyes swept over the top of the folding table again and she saw something she was certain hadn’t been there before—something that made her heart leap up in her chest.
Lying in a small metal ashtray was the burnt, chewed stub of a nico-stick and the end still looked slightly damp.
Exactly what she needed.
How is this possible? Ari wondered. She knew Stubbins was always extremely careful to take the stubs of his nico-sticks with him and flush them down the toilet at the end of every day for exactly this reason—so no one could use his DNA to get at the tools. Yet, here one was, just as though it had been waiting there for Ari.
Though I know it wasn’t here before, Ari told herself. It’s like it suddenly just appeared.