Word count: ~7000
Themes: reverse cowgirl, blindfold, brief food play
Summary: Ten years ago, space pirate Sabinus Terchan ran one of the most powerful underground operations in the galaxy. Two years ago, it all came crashing down around him. And as little as he likes to admit it, it happened in no small part because of a woman.
Hacker Jeanne Saryev knows that the only two constants in life are death and betrayal. When the leader of a shadowy galactic smuggling operation offers her his protection in exchange for her talents, she readily accepts, intending to make use of him for as long as she can. Just like she's used everyone who came before him.
What she doesn't expect is to discover a kindred soul in him, a man as ruthless and coldly pragmatic as she's learned to be. A man who has seen what the universe has to offer, and rejects it for a destiny of his own making.
But what Jeanne comes to understand of his ambitions terrifies her. And whatever connection they may share, it is built on a bed of lies.
Hacker Jeanne Saryev knows that the only two constants in life are death and betrayal. When the leader of a shadowy galactic smuggling operation offers her his protection in exchange for her talents, she readily accepts, intending to make use of him for as long as she can. Just like she's used everyone who came before him.
What she doesn't expect is to discover a kindred soul in him, a man as ruthless and coldly pragmatic as she's learned to be. A man who has seen what the universe has to offer, and rejects it for a destiny of his own making.
But what Jeanne comes to understand of his ambitions terrifies her. And whatever connection they may share, it is built on a bed of lies.
Excerpt (250 words):
For a long time they stand there, neither speaking, neither moving, as if some invisible barrier lies between them, and some invisible chain anchors them to either side of it.
She closes her eyes.
Opens them again.
Something shatters.
She’s not sure who makes the first move. But suddenly he’s got one hand buried in her hair, and the other – the cybernetic one – gripping her ass, and her fingers are clawing down his back and her tongue is tangling with his, and she can feel the heat pooling deep within her and his hardness pressing against her and the erratic, mismatched pulses beating under their skins.
She is the one who pulls away first.
“You’re not my type either, you know,” she says in a sly, breathy tone.
He scowls at her.
Pulls her back.
“Good,” he whispers, his breath tickling hot against her ear. A shiver trickles down her spine.
She tilts her head back, and he nibbles against the line of her jaw as she tugs at the waist of his pants, slips her cold fingers under his shirt, tracing lines of corded muscle beneath feverish skin. His chest rises and falls against her touch, powerful and alive.
With one hand he loosens the sash of her dress. They break apart again, briefly, for her to pull the constricting fabric over her head and for him to step out of his pants. Then he’s pressing her to the bed – when did they reach the bed? – freeing her breasts from her bra, lowering his mouth to worry at her nipples before venturing lower yet.
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