Be Careful What You Wish For(21)

With a harsh cry, he shot his seed into her mouth, all but choking her. The salty, sweet fluid tasted better than any she’d had before, and she found herself swallowing it without feeling sick as she had so often with Matt. Burst after burst of his essence filled her and she sucked it down greedily.
Finally it stopped. She took a moment to lick around his cock, cleaning it up, and then sat back on her heels. His hands were gone from her head, and when she looked up at him he seemed lost in thought.
“We have to talk,” he said after a moment. He wiped his forehead and she noticed a bead of sweat making its way down his temple. “Let’s go out on the balcony. It’s a lovely place to sit and visit.”
Absently wiping her mouth against her sleeve, she accepted the hand up he offered. His fingers were hard, filled with strength, and once again she sensed that tension in him. Whatever was bothering him, sex hadn’t taken the edge off. When they were sitting comfortably in the two chairs on either side of the small table on their balcony, he turned to look at her.
“I know who you are, Sandra Vicars,” he said softly. “And I know you’re not a whore, even though you’re doing your best to act like one. Now I need to figure out what to do with you. Valzar wants me to kill you, says I need to do it for my own safety. What other options do you have for me?”


Chapter Seven
She froze, completely unable to think of anything to say. How had he figured it out? She could only think of one way.
“Am I really that crappy in the sack?” she asked.
His face froze and he made a sudden choking noise.
“I can’t believe you just asked that,” he said. “Of all the things you have to worry about right now…”
She bit her lip, realizing he was absolutely right. She wasn’t thinking at all. She didn’t want to think, it was too scary.
“If you just let me go, I promise I won’t tell anyone about you,” she said. “Honestly, I don’t care if they catch you at all. I just want to get out of this alive. Is that so hard for you to believe?”
“I can’t let you go,” he said slowly.
“You don’t trust me, I can understand that,” she said, feeling herself grow hysterical. “But I honestly don’t know anything about you. I don’t even know what country we’re in. I don’t care; I just want to go home!”
She cut herself off abruptly. She needed to calm down, think clearly. This was her big chance to make a case for herself and she couldn’t afford to blow it. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes for a moment and then opened them, peering directly into his.
“Please, let me go,” she said softly.
He shook his head slowly, and she thought she saw genuine sadness there. It puzzled her.
“I can’t let you go, Sandra,” he said slowly. “You’re already dead.”
She cocked her head at him, and then moaned as his words sank in.
“You’re going to kill me right now?” she asked, and something inside snapped. It was too much. She stood abruptly, the chair she’d been sitting in falling to the floor behind her with a loud clanging noise.
Fury filled her. It was time to fight back.
“Fuck you,” she said in a cold voice. “I hope they catch you and kill you. I hope that they stick you in an electric chair and fry you, and if I had the chance I’d push that needle plunger down myself.”
“They don’t use a needle in the electric chair,” he said reasonably, standing and reaching out toward her.
Sandra stumbled back, desperate to get away from him. She wouldn’t go down easy. She balled her fist up and slammed it into his stomach with as much force a she could muster. Pain seared through her clenched hand. She shook it, hissing and trying to catch her breath. Apparently unfazed by her attack, he grabbed her upper arms and shook her.
“Settle down and listen to me,” he said. She responded by lunging forward and biting into the solid muscle of his chest with every bit of strength she had. Her teeth struck deep and true, and she shook her head like a rabid dog, worrying at his flesh. She brought her knee up to attack his groin, but the motion threw her off balance and he managed to block her attack.
“Stop it,” he roared. “Listen to me, I’m not going to hurt you. Please let me explain, and stop biting me.”
The words filtered through to her enraged consciousness. Slowly she let up on her attack. Her jaws held him so tightly she had to will them open, the muscles not responding at first. Then she was free, though she noted with some satisfaction that his shirt was rapidly turning red from blood.
Her teeth had hit home.