Page 66 of Challenged

Watching him lick my juices off his fingers was the most shocking and the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. It makes me wonder what else he might be prepared to do with that tongue.

I lean back, bracing my weight with my arms behind me, arching my chest towards him. He takes the invitation, moving his mouth and tongue to my breasts, laving my nipples before sucking them hard into his mouth. My pussy clenches around him, this new angle working even better for me. I don’t know how it’s possible that I’m so close to coming again, mere moments after my last orgasm.

“Don’t stop,” I moan, even though he won’t understand me. “Don’t stop.”

“Linasha,” he growls against my skin, and that sound alone is nearly enough to set me off.

With his hands back on my hips, he shifts his position, no longer fucking me with abandon, but experimenting with different angles, different pressures. His eyes remain locked on my face the entire time, looking for signs that he’s hitting the right spot. So I’m vocal for him, moaning his name when a stroke feels good, occasionally clenching my inner walls around him because I love the way that extra tightness makes him hiss.

Then our bodies align just right, his cock driving deep as something slightly raised moves over my clit. My legs lock around him, a ragged moan escaping my mouth as he starts pounding into me again, over and over in that exact spot, onehand gripping my hip, the other sliding up to brace my back as my body goes limp with the intensity of the pleasure.

“Nhi Angie,” he breathes, his own climax as close as my own.

Then he kisses me hard once more and I’m shattering, my pleasure driven ever higher by the relentless thrust of his body into mine, until one climax rolls into another, my body breaking apart almost as soon as it’s come back together. My hands are all over him, finding no purchase on his sweat slicked skin, until I sink them into his hair once more and just hold on.

With a few final thrusts, Rardek reaches his own climax, crying out as he spills himself inside me. His hips continue to stutter into mine for a moment as he rides the last waves of his pleasure. Then we are turning, his body guiding mine down as we collapse into the bed.

We lie there together until our breathing slows, our heart rates returning to normal. It takes a while. I’ve never come so hard in my life, and the echoes of that pleasure keep rippling through me for a long time. But eventually the fluttering between my thighs stops, and reality presses back in. I’m disgustingly sweaty. Rardek kicks off some heat, and my body is all pressed up against his. That, combined with our rigorous activities, has me clamouring to get back in the showers.

Rardek comes with me, and I’m hard pressed not to climb up him again as we scrub ourselves, and each other, clean. But duty calls - I know Liv wants him and Maldek heading out to follow Jaskry’s path to the end as soon as possible. We’ve already delayed that too long.

If our mutual shower dampness wasn’t giveaway enough, the blush that fills my cheeks at the first hint of a smirk from one ofthe other raskarrans does it. There’s a bit of good natured jeering and some back slapping. Somehow, it manages not to be gross.

“Don’t mind them,” Brooks says, handing me a bowl of something that looks like porridge. “It might look like the worst sort of male behaviour, but you’ll soon see that they’re all genuinely delighted for Rardek. For you.”

I go with her to the fire, taking a seat on a log bench. The porridge smells divine, and as I take a mouthful, I realise I haven’t eaten in far too long.

“Still feeling all over the place?” Brooks asks as she refills my bowl. “Or is this appetite from the ah, exercise?”

She shoots me a teasing grin that wouldn’t look out of place on Rardek’s face.

“Skipped a couple of meals yesterday,” I admit.

She gives me a sympathetic look. “With everything else on your mind, food was probably the last thing you were thinking about.”

She introduces me to the other girls, including two who were frozen like me, Petra and Becky. Neither of them appear to be in good shape. Petra is quiet, barely answering yes-no questions. Becky says nothing at all.

“We’re going to start waking the rest of them today,” a redhead called Rachel says. “If you’re feeling up to it, you might be able to help us. You know what they’re going through better than any of us.”

I think of my questions, the answers that might be waiting to be found on Farrow’s hot mess of a computer.

“Empathy has never been my strong suit,” I tell her, ready to make my excuses.

But then I wonder - what’s the point? Does it matter if I don’t understand? Mercenia isn’t coming back here. This is my life now. Making the best of it means bonding with these women. Finding ways to be useful to the tribe.

Do I want answers more than I want to make a start on those things?

No. No, I don’t.

“I’ll do my best,” I say.

It’s a long day. There are sixteen women left to wake and Liv wants to get through at least half of them. Brooks, Rachel and a woman called Grace know how to open the pods, so they do three at a time. While actually waking them doesn’t take all that long, dealing with them afterwards is a delicate process.

The first girl that Brooks wakes just bursts into tears when she looks around and realises she’s not at home in her bed. Brooks tries so many times to get through to her, endlessly patient and kind. The girl just continues to sob hysterically, her eyes red, her skin blotchy.

In the end, I lose patience for it.

“Hey,” I bark, the sharpness of my frustration seeping into my voice. “Cut it out.”

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