Page 122 of CHOICE Lover
He stills for a moment, letting her adjust. He presses his forehead to hers, making soft circles on her throat with his thumb. His hand, which still grips her knee, pulls her tighter against him, changing the angle so he’s impossibly deep.
“You feel so fucking good, Electra. I thought”—he takes a few staggered breaths of the air they share—“I thought I might never have you like this again. I thought you were gone. I’m so stupidly in love with you, I thought I might die.”
She opens her eyes to take him in. That isn’t rain dripping on her face. Those are his tears. Her heart feels like it may burst. “Move,” she commands, before leaning up to claim his mouth.
He obeys, rolling his hips, and the emotion barreling through her works in tandem with the ache building at her center. The pressure is devastating as his thrusts build with intensity. With her free leg, she presses into the ground, chasing that feeling coiling deep inside her. He releases her mouth, burying his face in the side of her neck. “Please, Electra, I want to feel you unravel.”
Their rain-slicked bodies move, skin sliding against skin, stoking her desire. Her pleasure. The orgasm that she’s been holding back since the moment he thrust inside her sits on the precipice, waiting for her to let loose.
He sends her over the edge with four little words. “Please come for me.”
Her body trembles as bliss shoots through her, giving her the bursts of starlight the simulation chamber failed to. “Oh God, Res6!” she cries as her muscles contract as wave after wave washes over her.
“Zorg, I can feel you strangling me. So. Fucking. Good.” Res6 moves sharply, emphasizing each word with a thrust before stiffening. She holds him through his pleasure. When he comes back to himself, he collapses onto her, face still tucked into the crook of her neck.
She strokes his silky hair, and eventually their breathing evens out. “You okay?”
His chest rumbles as he pushes himself off her. “I’m hopeless for you, but yeah, I’m okay.”
It takes them a few minutes to dry off with the blanket and make themselves presentable enough to make it to the locker rooms. His grip on her hand lingers, and she can tell he’s reluctant to let her out of his sight. He’s given himself over to her completely, and she knows how much trust that requires. Oh God, she didn’t say it back. She meant to, but she was so lost in the moment. Shit. She’ll rectify that as soon as they’re home—when he’s ready for round two, because after several weeks without him, they have some time to make up for.
“I’ll be fine. Just give me ten minutes to do something with this.” She gestures to her wet and rumpled clothing, and stringy hair. “Then we’ll go home, okay?”
He nods, eyeing the door like he might fight it. “Fine. I’ll be in the lobby waiting when you’re finished.”
He turns to walk away, but she calls, “Res6.” The words she needs to say dance on the tip of her tongue. But saying them in this nondescript hallway won’t be romantic, and he seems to be into that—imagine her luck.
He stops midway down the hall, turning as if ready to runto her aid. “Yes?”
She grins, feeling very doted on by the attentive man. “Nothing. I just wanted to say that everything is going to be fine. Better than fine.” Her grin turns into a full smile as the certainty of it washes over her. “It’s going to be perfect.”
42 – Kill Mode
Electra
Electra steps out of the locker room, still basking in the postcoital glow. Someone bumps into her shoulder. She must really be riding high and not paying attention because she didn’t notice anyone else in the hallway. “Excuse me,” she says, turning around to see who she bumped into.
“You’re excused,” a man in an orange jumpsuit says. Another man stands behind him. They’re both vaguely familiar.
She quickly racks her brain to remember where she saw them. Then it hits her. “You both were in Z Quadrant the other day in the hall.”
“Bingo,” the one nearest says, holding up a sparkler.
Her breath catches in her throat. This can’t be happening. Right as she’s about to scream, the man behind him steps into the light. His nose is smashed from a recent break, and she remembers Res6 toldthe inspector he heard bone crunch when he struck one of the robbers in the face.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
She backs up, glancing over her shoulder. The lobby isn’t far. Res6, who she just promised that everything would be fine, isn’t far. “You’re the ones who stole the specimens from the CHOICElover lab. We didn’t tell them anything,” she lies.
The man with the broken nose chuckles, lifting a syringe.
Her voice shakes as she pleads, “No, please. I don’t know anything.” She can’t let them get the needle near her. She darts back, opening her mouth to scream, but the man with the sparkler points in at her head. The dial is set to red—kill mode.
“All we need is your DNA sample. Scream, and you’re dead.”
She whimpers, her tremors becoming convulsions as the man eases toward her.
“That’s it, pretty girl. Much better to keep you breathing. You are much more useful to our boss alive. But . . .” he shakes the sparkler, turning it down to the orange setting. “I can make you wish you were dead.”
