Trapped: A SciFi Convict Romance (The Condemned Book 1) (6 page)

“A hero doesn’t do what I’m about to do,” he growled. “Spread
your legs.”

He likely expected to elicit fear, but all that prickled
across her skin was white-hot lust. He hadn’t hurt her before. Even when she’d
insulted him.

This had to be a test. One she didn’t intend to fail.

She did as commanded. Her fingers curling into his shoulders
as he yanked her pants down to her thighs. Cool air swirled around her ass.

“Still want to call me Hero?” His thick finger probed her
folds, his gaze challenging as his thumb circled her clit. Slowly.
Deliberately.

“No.” Pleasure shivered through her. What she wanted was to
call him by his name. What she wanted was for him to stop pretending he was
worse than he was.

“Good.” His voice dropped to a low rasp, that thread of
wonder back in his voice. “You’re wet.”

“Yes.” Should she be ashamed? Maybe, but with his calloused
hands working the part of her that needed him most, she couldn’t seem to care.
Plus, this was Dragath25. She could make her own rules. Take pleasure while she
could. With a man who was a lot more complicated than he wanted her to believe.
“I—I like what you do to me.”

His nostrils flared, a shudder running through him. She could
tell she’d surprised him. For an instant, something very human—something that
looked a lot like regret and guilt and need—flashed in his gaze, but it was gone
in the next blink. “Take out my dick. Put it inside you.”

He was definitely out to prove he was no hero.

But she remembered the way he’d put himself between her
colleagues and the
tigos
. How he’d attacked the
creature when he thought it was coming for her. The flash of hope in his gaze
when she’d told him she was determined to survive. The fact that despite his
anger, he’d come running back.

Fingers trembling, she
slid
her
hands beneath his loincloth, the heat of his skin a brand against her palm as
she gripped him. His cock so thick she couldn’t make it even halfway around.
She stood on tiptoes, tilting her hips forwards, her back against the rock, as
she worked to put him inside.

A groan of frustration escaped. He was so big. She was too
small. The angle all wrong. All she could do was rub up against him. “I—I
can’t.”

Before she could even finished, powerful arms slid under her
ass, lifting her up so their bodies were in perfect alignment. But instead of
sinking inside, he held her poised at the tip of his cock, a message all of its
own.

Her gaze flew to his.

She wondered if he knew she could see the raw need he was
pretending not to feel.

“Tell me,” he commanded.

She knew instantly what he meant. “I can’t do this on my own.
I need you. I do.”

“Who?”

She should have known he’d win in this, too. “You. Convict. I
need you.”

With a grunt of triumph, he guided her onto his cock, working
her deeper, inch by inch, until she took all of him. His big hands moving her
back and forth so that she was sliding in and out at his whim. Him using her to
fuck him senseless. It was the hottest thing she’d ever experienced.

Her body, already so sensitive, tightened with need, tiny
tremors whipping through her as her legs bounded wildly, his movements growing
faster, jerkier, as his own pleasure built. Needing an anchor, she ran her
hands down the slick, muscled plains of his back. Then his mouth was at her
ear, “Come for me, fighter girl.”

Surrendering, her body shattered into a thousand pieces.

She was still trying to catch her breath when his strong hand
gripped her chin and tipped it to meet his bottomless gaze.

“Lowlife Dragath25 criminals have their uses,” he all but
growled. “Don’t forget it.”

Chapter Six

“We’ll rest here.” Convict’s declaration sent Bella looking
up, her legs rejoicing. She’d been staring down at her feet, forcing one in
front of each other for the last hour now.

“Can I help?”

“I’ve got him.”

Of course, he did
.
Bella watched Convict guide an unconscious Winthrop to the ground. He’d been
carrying the man on his back at a near run—along with his spear and that
backpack he refused to let out of his sight—over treacherous, rocky terrain for
the last four hours. The hot suns beating down on them all the while.

Even so, Bella doubted this stop was for him. He wasn’t even
breathing hard while every one of her leg muscles was screaming and poor
Davies’ shirt was soaked, her face pale.

Still, it wouldn’t have killed the man to let her help in some
small way.

“I’m going to backtrack and cover our trail. I’ve left some
water and the last of the bars.” He held out a smooth, small rock with a hole
at either end. “Any trouble, blow this.” He held out his spear next. “Don’t
hesitate. Whatever’s coming at you won’t, either.”

She eyed the weapon. “If we have that, what will you
use?”
 

His warning gaze bore into her. “Take it.”

Back rigid, she did as requested. He was already almost out
of sight, his mouthwatering golden skin bunching and flexing as he sped away,
before she realized she should have asked exactly what might be coming at them.
But it was too late now.

After a wide, nervous scan of the surrounding rocky landscape,
she dropped beside Davies, who was already checking Winthrop’s bandage.

Their gazes met then skittered away.

It was the first time they’d had a moment to talk. When she
and Convict had returned from their argument, her face flushed, her hair
tangled and wild, Convict had done little more than slap a few bar rations into
her and Davies’ hands, scoop up Winthrop, and bark out a command for them to
follow. He’d set such a fast pace, talking had been impossible. She and Davies
had exchanged a couple of grim glances, but that was it.

“You okay?” Davies’ voice was thin.

“I’m fine.” There were far more important matters to discuss
than her emotional state. “I don’t know where he’s taking us, but I’m charting
the direction via the suns as best I can. We’ll know how to get back to the
crash site and the rescuers when the time comes. Until then it’s best to stay
with him.”

“Maybe so, but…”

“Are you worried he’ll go after you? He’s given his words he
won’t. Not as long as I’m available.”

“Oh, God.” Davies stopped pretending to fiddle with
Winthrop’s bandages, her expression crumpling. “I’m so sorry. I–I hate that you
had to do that for us. For me. Because I’m Council and—”

“I didn’t do it because you’re Council.”

Davies shook her head as if refuting the claim. “I shouldn’t
have let you. I shouldn’t have been such a coward.”

“No, please.” Bella’s hand closed over the woman’s thin
shoulder. Yes, initiating touch with a Council member without permission was a
serious breach of protocol, but there was no reason Convict’s notion of
different rules for Dragath25 couldn’t hold true in this respect as well, and
Davies appeared to need more comfort than just words. “Don’t feel like that. It
isn’t what you think.”

“Don’t lie to me. I heard you. I know what he did to you.”
Davies’ eyes sank shut as she leaned in to Bella’s touch. “I hate myself for
letting it happen. For doing nothing while he hurt you. I–I know what that’s
like…and now….” Her hands twisted in her lap. “Now I’m letting it happen to
you. I’m a terrible coward. ”
 

“He didn’t hurt me.” Embarrassment had a tight grip on
Bella’s throat. Sorrow, too.
Someone had
hurt Davies
. Badly, if the way the woman’s hands shook was any indication.

Emboldened, Bella gripped those trembling hands.
Surprisingly, they gripped her right back.

“What you heard wasn’t pain, it…it was pleasure.” Bella took
a deep breath and confessed. “He made me feel good. Better than anything I ever
felt before. I–I didn’t expect it, but there it is.”

Davies’ shocked gaze didn’t help.

“He’s not what you think.” Bella felt oddly protective.

“He’s a Dragath25 prisoner. He’s forcing you to have sex with
him.” Davies’ voice cracked at the end.

“He’s not forcing me.” Bella kept her voice gentle. Her
colleague’s confession made this conversation even more delicate than she’d
expected. “We have a deal. And so far, he’s given far more than he’s taken.”

Davies remained silent.

Bella squeezed the woman’s hand. “I’m sorry someone hurt you.
Truth be told, I’d like to find the bastard and feed him to a
tigos
, but my situation isn’t the same. He’s brusque and
rough, but he’s not a monster. Even when he’s been angry, he hasn’t harmed me.
And he’s already done more for us than Pogue ever did. We’re alive because of
Convict.”

“Convict? Is—is that his name?”

“No, but it’s what he’s insisting I call him.”

One of Davies’ eyebrows shot up.

Bella shrugged. “He’s been here for eight years. I don’t
think he likes to remember the man he was.”

“Or maybe that man is gone for good,” warned her colleague.
“Don’t hang your hopes on someone who doesn’t exist. He couldn’t have been a
very good person to begin with anyway. Not if he ended up here.” Her eyes sank
shut. “Don’t…don’t let yourself be deceived. I—I know I’m not supposed to speak
of Council matters, but I thought my fiancé was a good man once. Then he turned
me into his personal punching bag.” She shook her head, her watery eyes
blinking open to survey the barren landscape. “All I wanted was freedom. Look
what I got instead.”

“This isn’t the end.” Bella tried to keep the shock from her
voice. There was far more to her fellow researcher than she’d ever realized.
And far less to her foolish presumption that being part of an elite Council
family line meant an end to all worries. “You can still have that freedom,
Ava.”

Ava’s small smile at the use of her first name assured Bella
she’d chosen correctly. After what they’d just admitted to each other, the
required use of last names for Council-members seemed overly stiff and
ridiculous. Different rules for Dragath25, just like Convict had said.

“Bella? Cadet Davies?” Winthrop’s
thready
croak cut into their conversation. “What’s going on?”

Bella sank back on her heels. Their commanding officer was
alive and awake. “Don’t try and get up.” Ignoring protocol once again, she
pressed gently down on his chest as he tried to rise. “There was a crash. You
were hurt.” She didn’t know how much he remembered of the last day and a half.
Winthrop scanned their faces, his eyes groggy, his handsome face tight with
pain and weariness, his skin so pale the dark Council designation on his neck
stood out even more than usual. “Are you both okay?”

“My leg’s a little banged up, but I’m fine,” answered Ava.

“I’m fine, too.” Bella felt a surge of guilt. Beyond a few
scrapes and a sore shoulder that only really hurt when something heavy bore
down on it, she was remarkably unscathed while so many of their colleagues had
died. She dreaded having to tell Winthrop that.

“Thank God.” Winthrop’s hand gripped hers. “The others?”

“Pogue and a few other soldiers also made it out alive.” Her
gaze slid from his. “The rest didn’t.”

“Shit.” Lines of grief tightened his usually cheerful face.
“Where is Pogue now? I—I remember somebody carrying me.” He struggled to sit up
fully. “I need to thank him.”

She and Ava exchanged a look. “It wasn’t Pogue. He and his
crew deserted us.”

“What?” Winthrop’s protest started as a roar, but ended on a
pained hiss, his hand clutching his chest. “
Christ
,
that hurts.” He shook off their attempt to check his bandage. “Deserted us? The
Council will have Pogue’s job for this. His freedom, too. His sole objective is
to keep us alive.”

“He was afraid for his life.” Bella wasn’t defending, simply
explaining. She’d detested Pogue since the first time he ‘accidentally’ brushed
up against her ass during a training session. His actions since the shuttle
wreck had only confirmed her initial assumption of his character. “Our crash
drew the attention of the Dragath25 prisoners.”

“Are they after us?” Winthrop tried to heave himself up.
Instead, he slipped on his elbow and crashed back down with a grunt.

“We’re safe. Stop thrashing around.” Ava added her weight to
Bella’s, holding the man down. Clearly, Bella wasn’t the only one emboldened by
being temporarily beyond Council rule. Still, her colleague’s wary gaze
flickered to Bella before shifting back to Winthrop. “Bella found us help.”

“Help?” Winthrop’s eyes slid shut. Even that simple effort
had exhausted him. “Thank God. I think I need a little more time before I can
make a run for it.”

It was the kind of self-deprecating joke he always had at the
ready. It had Bella smiling, her eyes prickling with the sting of salt, relief
that he was alive, that they were all alive, winding through her.

Ava’s eyes were wet, too, as she smiled down at the man. “Let
me get you some water.” She sprung up, hurrying toward the hollow gourd Convict
had left behind.

“Bella, I’m so glad you’re okay.” Winthrop pressed her hand
against the curve of his face, surprising her. “I knew the second I saw you,
you were extraordinary. So beautiful. So determined.” He turned and kissed her
palm; his mouth a warm, unwelcome imprint against her skin. “I shouldn’t have
let Council biases deter me. I—I’ve wanted to tell you for so long. I…I care
for you. And I’m not going to let protocol stand in my way anymore. I want us
to be far more than colleagues. And my position affords enough influence to
weather any damage our union might cause.” His grip tightened. “Thank you for
finding a way to save us so I could come to my senses.”

He was in shock. Likely not thinking clearly. And, boy oh
boy, the presumption. The unbelievable arrogance. Still…he was her superior.
She shifted uncomfortably, her face growing hot, her mind struggling for the
right thing to say.

Especially since she doubted he’d be thanking her so
fervently if he knew the truth of what she’d done to save them.

“Well, isn’t this cozy.”

Bella looked up.

Convict loomed above, his gaze locked on Winthrop’s hand atop
hers. “I see he finally woke up.”

Winthrop’s hold tightened. “Who’s this?”

The air vibrated with menace.

Bella struggled to her knees. “Convict, this is Dr. Winthrop,
Senior Council Officer of our mission. Dr. Winthrop, this is Convict. The man
who’s saved our lives countless times already.” As subtly as possible, she
tried to withdraw her hand from Winthrop. He didn’t let go.

Convict’s nostrils flared.

 
Ava returned with the
water, her nervous gaze flickering between the two men. “I—I wanted to thank
you as well,
Mr
…ah, Convict. We appreciate all you’ve
done.” Ava shoved the water toward Winthrop, forcing him to free Bella’s hand.

Released, Bella pushed to standing. “Did you have any
trouble?”

“You worried about me, fighter girl?”

She could feel Winthrop’s and Ava’s gaze boring into her. It
made her want to turn tail and flee. She locked her knees instead. “I’m worried
about us all. I don’t want anyone hurt.”

Convict’s gaze flickered to Winthrop before settling back on
her. “Sometimes pain adds to the pleasure.” He beckoned her forward, his gaze
as cold and hard as when he’d faced that
tigos
. “This
time ‘round, I’ll show you what I mean.”

“What’s he’s talking about?” Winthrop’s furious voice sounded
behind her.

“You don’t know?” A cold, half smile twisted Convict’s face.
“In return for all that heroism and saving your lives, I get her.”

“Her?”

“Your precious Bella. To fuck. Whenever I want. However I
want.”

If a sinkhole would have appeared and swallowed her whole,
Bella would have been grateful.

“No.” Winthrop’s protest was a near whisper. Ava sobbed.

Convict’s attention shifted back to her. “You following me up
that hill or you want to pay up in front of them? Doesn’t matter to me. I’ll
want you on all fours.
Ass
in the air.”

Nausea choked her, but she swallowed past it.

She’d learned growing up that pride rarely jibed with
survival. She did what she had to and moved on. Still, a part of her grieved.
Despite Convict’s warning, she kept fooling herself into thinking he might be
something he wasn’t. But it didn’t matter in the end what she thought of him.
He was still their best chance of getting out of here alive.

“I’ll follow you.” Without looking at her colleagues, she
started forward.

“Bella, no,” shouted Winthrop. “Ava, stop her.”

Which only made Ava cry louder.

For the first time, Bella had the uncharitable wish that
Winthrop had remained unconscious. She had the strong feeling none of this would
be happening if he had.

“You don’t need to whore yourself out to that bastard.” All
Winthrop’s frustration at his helplessness was apparent in his voice. “We can
survive without him. I’m Council, God damn it. Don’t go. Don’t do this to us.”

Convict didn’t even slow down. His utter indifference, his
absolute assurance that Winthrop could do nothing to stop this, insult enough.

But Bella couldn’t help herself. She turned back. “We have no
weapons. No knowledge of the terrain. No food. No water. No tools. You and the
rest of the our superiors said we would be safe, that this was an easy mission,
a simple in and out, and you left us unprepared.” Her chin tilted upward. “You
don’t want to thank me for what I’m doing, fine. But don’t lie to me or
yourself. All your Council trappings can't help us now. We won’t last an hour
without his help.”