Swallow it Down - Addison Cain Page 0,27

he’d just exposed. “As much as I’d love for you to be jealous, we both know you’re not. Don’t spoil my fun by reminding me.”

“It’s not sustainable, Aaron. The ship's culture, the women, the men, the lack of orgasm in the sense that family units are required for a future to develop. Workers will eventually grow old. This culture will fail. There will be a mutiny.” And she said all of that out loud, squirming and sighing under his lips on her skin. “Please stop doing that. It’s distracting.”

Groaning, the warmth of his voice moving from his chest straight to her nipples, he ran his lips back to her ear. “Slip your hand between your thighs and tell me what you feel like.” It wasn’t a question, and it should not have left her on the verge of coming undone. “Eugenia, touch yourself like you do in your room. When no one is looking and you take what you need. When you’re thinking of me.”

She would not moan. She would not!

But he knew how to strum up a response. “You’ll be thinking of me next time you do it. Thinking of this.” Rocking his hips against her backside, his erection just as large as she had been warned.

“Is this the famous tongue thing?” she panted.

Another wicked laugh. “No. I’ve never touched any of them like this and you know that.”

“I’m just a better opponent.” Breathless, hating herself a little for indulging. “And since violence didn’t work, you think seduction will.”

Turning her chin, lips brushing hers, he said, “If I thought seduction would work, I’d be inside you right now.”

“Psychological warfare then?”

Hazel eyes sparkled. “Do you feel outmatched? Does it feel good to know I want you?”

Good wasn’t a word worthy of how she felt. She felt depraved… and liked it.

She liked it for hours. Melting into a puddle of contentment as he bent the rules.

When he moved to her feet and sucked her toe into his mouth, the gush of wetness between her legs was something she was never going to admit to herself. Just as she’d never speak of how loudly she moaned.

***

There was one more night with the captain: of squabbles, debate, petty insults, laughter, and Eugenia refusing to sleep with him no matter how he laughed and the exorbitant amount of tickets he teased her with. And then it was Laura’s turn. After that, Hellen. Faith. Lydia…

Returning to her rooms wasn’t hard. Eugenia’s daily schedule robotic, hour to hour, the same. Day in and day out. Breaks for menstruation. All free time spent reading Nelson’s Textbook of Pediatrics—pages she had all but memorized.

No point in counting the weeks, the show of a guard after the buzz from ‘the captain fucking her’ died down. She was no longer considered fresh. His hypothetical cock some form of magic. The men stopped coming on so strong. Their belief that the captain had plowed that field taking a bit of shine off the apple.

Especially because there was a new girl far more enthusiastic about her life of luxury on the ship. So happy, in fact, she could not stop going on about how great it was.

Air conditioning, regular meals, clean sheets, a real mattress, pretty things...

And some of the other women were beginning to agree with the feel-good positivity.

Even agreeing that they enjoyed the attention of eager men who’d spruced up and saved just to see them.

As for prompted sex? The pretty, new brunette came when they mounted her from behind at the tables. Porn-star loud.

The captain commended her and upgraded Juanita to the best room a girl could have. She was an example to live by. And an enigma Eugenia could not wrap her thoughts around.

She didn’t like her. Everyone else did though, because Juanita was sweet, bubbly, playful, and genuinely nice.

Eugenia didn’t like her, because Juanita was simple.

Because the newcomer was happy.

And it was starting to settle in that no matter what, Eugenia was never going to be. Maybe never had been.

So the escape attempts she’d been calculating for months began to unfold. The first was simple, find the stairwells and just walk off the boat.

That led to another kicking and screaming ride on another male shoulder only to be dumped at the scowling captain’s boots.

Next option? Climb down railings where life rafts used to be. Torn bed sheets, cursing, and sorry loss of upper arm strength led her to be caught only three floors down.

So she took to standing at the railing of Level 15, looking down and