Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 41151 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 206(@200wpm)___ 165(@250wpm)___ 137(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41151 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 206(@200wpm)___ 165(@250wpm)___ 137(@300wpm)
I go in through the door she left open and find Malik looking thoroughly annoyed.
“Where does she get the nerve?” He asks me the question, shaking his head. “She’s asking to have the absolute hell beaten out of her.”
“I don’t know. What did you want to talk to me about?
It’s a waste of a question. There’s only one subject of conversation on my ship right now. Dreamy.
“She’s cute,” Malik says. “But she’s going to be eaten alive here. Make as many threats as you like, they’ll eventually come for her. The weak don’t survive. You made sure of that. Zeki? She’s a piranha. But there are sharks on this ship.”
“They won’t dare touch her.”
“You don’t have to touch someone to destroy them, Shah.”
He might be right. Dreamy isn’t made for my world. She’s made for rigid structure, routine, performing the same task over and over. At least, that’s what it looks like on the surface. But I know better. She broke the mold to go to Omega, and she’ll break out of it again. I know true wildness flows in her veins, even if she doesn’t, and even if nobody else sees it.
“She’s going to be fine.”
“She’s not. She’s like a captive animal who has never known life outside a cage. You can’t just set her free in the wild. She won’t even recognize her own kind, and she won’t smell right to anyone else. They’ll do their best to kill her, Shah.”
“She’s going to have my scent on her,” I tell him. “I already made it clear, one fucking fingernail bent, and people die.”
“Where is she now?”
“In the food hall.”
“Shah!” Malik near curses my name. “It’s not… you can’t treat her like she’s one of us. You can’t leave her in public on her own. Look at what happened last night.”
I think he’s overreacting. In fact, I know he is. Calling me away from my food to tell me he’s worried about the same girl I just left alone to talk to him is, well, foolish on his part. There are two things I do not like to have interrupted. Sex, and food.
“I’m going to finish my lunch,” I tell him. “If you’d like to freak out about her, maybe do it between meals. I handle drama better on a full stomach.”
Back in the food hall, my pretty hostage is nowhere to be seen. For a brief second, I wonder if someone was stupid enough to test me. Was Malik right? Has she already been killed? I wouldn’t fucking forgive myself if that was the case.
The food court is still buzzing with activity. I grab the nearest girl by the arm and point toward the now empty place we had been sitting.
“Where’s Dreamy?”
“That weirdo worker drone? She’s under the table.”
Sure enough, I find Dreamy curled up beneath the table where we were eating lunch. She’s pushed herself as far back into the corner as she can go, and she’s looking out at the world wide-eyed like a terrified little animal.
“What are you doing under there?”
“I. Uh. Dropped something,” she says. “A fry.”
“Get out from under there.” I snap my fingers and point at my feet.
She comes out looking ashamed of herself, as she should. I introduced her as being under my protection, and yet she emanates weakness. Malik’s words come back to haunt me as I look down at Dreamy. He’s right. She’s out of her element. She doesn’t belong. Everybody knows it. And she knows it too. The way she’s looking at me is almost apologetic. If I was a weaker man, her behavior might be of concern, but as it is, my reputation can withstand one timid worker, as long as I make it clear her weakness is something I plan to exploit, not join her in.
I pick her up under her ass and heft her over my shoulder. There’s something about her tenderness, her timidity that makes me fucking hard. She’s such a hot little package of terror and disobedience. I’ve just got to get her used to being exposed to these people. I’ve got to break her of her shyness.
I want to fuck her again.
Fuck it.
I don’t wait to take her all the way back to my room. That’s what a civilized person would do, but I’m not civilized, and neither is she anymore. I’m going to make her the right kind of wild. Pulling her off my shoulder, I put her over the food court railing, ass up nice and high. Zeki chose nice pants for her, and the way they hug her curves doubles my resolve to fuck her here and now. They peel down exquisitely, revealing the generous curves of her ass and thighs, a heart-shaped expanse framing a hot little pussy. I can smell myself on her lips from earlier. She’s wet. Excitement? Fear? I think being manhandled turns her on.