Trapped (The Condemned Series #1) - Alison Aimes Page 0,11

really paid attention beyond noting it was long and wavy and feminine enough to check off each of his boxes. But now he was curious. Finding a layer of control he hadn’t even known he possessed, he shoved back at the lust riding him hard. “Go under.”

There was a momentary hesitation and then, on a deep breath, she sank under. Instantly, her hair fanned out in all directions, tangled silk. Fumbling—his hands seeming too big and awkward for the first time—he grabbed for the strands as gently as possible, letting the soap skim through them and over her pink scalp. Inky grey clouds slid from her hair, revealing a golden brown he was pretty sure would turn to yellow gold when dry. His fighter girl was a blonde.

For some reason, it brought relief. His wife had been a brunette.

He gave the woman’s hair a gentle tug. Understanding, she emerged from the water, wiping her eyes.

Done with waiting, he kept his fist wrapped around her hair, walking backwards until they were standing only up to her thighs in the shallow water, guiding her closer and closer, ignoring her little gasp of dismay and the stiffness of her posture, until her perfect backside pressed against his front.

A groan strangled in his throat. The warm press of her soft, wet skin, and the feel of his throbbing cock nestling in the crease of her ass was better than anything he could have imagined.

Except for that first touch….the heat of her small palm pressed against his, her fingers voluntarily lacing with his….God, that had almost brought him to his knees.

After the first few years on Dragath25, pain hadn’t been as big a part of his day. Life had settled into one numb, bleak cycle after another. But pleasure…he’d thought that sensation gone for good.

Until she offered him anything.

Her body trembled as he slid his hands across the silk of her creamy shoulders, down her arms, the foam from the soap leaving streaks of white. Tracing the softness of her warm flesh ecstasy and hell.

He sucked down a shuddering breath, scrambling for an anchor, drowning in sensation. After eight years of a bleak void, the awakening of every nerve ending was almost painful. The shocking riot of another’s scent and touch and sound almost too acute to bear. And still he couldn’t make himself stop.

She was so tiny his palms easily spanned her back. Yet she’d taken on soldier bastard and him. And done whatever was necessary to save her friends. Maybe she had the kind of strength necessary to survive Dragath25. At least longer than most females.

“Do you want to know my name?”

His hands stilled. He should have known his fighter girl wouldn’t go down quietly.

Her voice was part whisper, part reproach. “It’s Cadet Annabella West. Bella, for short.”

“It suits.” But I prefer fighter girl.

His hands glided to her full tits, rolling her sweet pink nipples between thumb and forefinger. So smooth. So stiff. Her sharp gasp only made his dick throb harder.

“I came here on a mission.” Her voice was growing less steady, more breathy with every second he played with her breasts. “I came to find a way to save Earth. To—”

He splayed his hand down her flat belly and cupped her mound. “Fighter girl?”

“Yes?” Her word was an unsteady hiss.

“Shut up.” He nipped at her throat, his fingers ghosting over the soft folds of her pussy. Getting her used to his touch. Reminding her what was to come. She wasn’t wet. He hadn’t expected her to be. There were things that needed to be established first. Things her mind needed to accept before her body followed.

“What was doesn’t matter. The past is over.” Another inmate had told him the same thing early in his arrival. When he’d still been clinging to the man he was. To the life and the rules and the norms he’d known on Earth. The lesson had saved his life. “Life on Dragath25 is short. Ugly. Brutal. Every day you survive is a miracle.”

He paused, letting the words sink in. “Do you understand what I’m saying, female?” She nodded, but he pushed himself to continue anyway. He’d been out of the habit of talking for a while, but this was important. He needed her to understand. “This is about pleasure. Not pain. I don’t get off on pain.”

She stilled, and he thought he heard a small sob. It caused an odd tightness in his chest. He should have mentioned no pain before. He was definitely out of