Chapter Fifteen
Connor had more food for thought than he could digest--or actually wanted to.
His mind kept going back to his plot, though, in spite of the blow he’d taken from his talk with Annabelle.
Maybe because of it.
Maybe because it had resurrected things he’d carefully tucked away and packed dirt over years ago.
She’d been created for him. That was what his mother had told him as they stood at the window of the nursery and stared in at the tiny creature who looked as perfect as a porcelain doll.
His doll. He had no true memory of what went through his mind at the time beyond that thought--that she looked just like his grandmother’s treasure from her childhood--miniature perfection.
When they grew up they would marry and make babies as his parents and grandparents had.
She was his and it was his job to take care of her the best he could and protect her from harm of any kind that might damage the perfection of her.
Then her parents had told him to stop, to stay away from her, that he would teach her to think of him as a brother and that would ruin the plans his parents and her parents had made for them.
He hadn’t believed that, but it had worried him.
Or maybe, still being a child himself, he had just stopped feeling like she wouldn’t survive if he didn’t guard her assiduously?
Or he had reached a stage where he was more interested in himself?
Worried about his image?
He had never stopped believing it was his job to take care of her.
He didn’t know how the bastards had managed to get her off to a place where they could beat her and take what she wouldn’t give them willingly.
He set that aside.
It still made him sick with rage.
And he thought one of the reasons he had so much trouble dealing with it was the fact that he felt like it was his fault.
Beating the bastards with his fists didn’t change what they’d done and it gave him no satisfaction. He’d thought it would, but it hadn’t.
He thought if he hadn’t felt completely unworthy in the aftermath, he might have ignored the things her parents had said.
He would never know now.
The fact was that he was so ashamed he’d fled the scene.
He couldn’t bear to see what the bastards had done to his perfect little doll.
And he couldn’t bear to see the look in her eyes that he feared he would see--loathing and contempt when she had never, ever looked at him without love and admiration--made him feel like a god.
He scrubbed his hands over his face, trying to block out the tormenting memories and thoughts. Slowly, the clouds parted--so slowly he barely noticed at first. Eventually, though, he could see with absolute clarity.
None of the mistakes he had made mattered … unless he gave in to them and didn’t try to ‘fix’ the mess he’d made of things. It wasn’t up to her to fix them. She would forgive him, though, if he found his spine and asked, if he admitted that he’d screwed up and knew he had.
And he needed her to forgive him for failing her so that he could forgive himself.
He loved her.
He was not going to ‘get over’ it.
He was always going to love her.
His life was going to be shit to him if he let his pride prevent him from doing what he could to win her back. He would only be punishing himself, and he was sick of that.
Resolved, he got up and left his quarters and went to find out where his little mouse was hiding. If he was assiduous in applying himself, she was going to be pregnant before they landed again and, once it was a fait accompli, then she would stop trying to convince him she didn’t love him anymore.
Hopefully.
* * * *
Belle thought she was more worn down with depression than weary from working when she finished her first day on the ship.
Ten more to go she thought unhappily as she headed to the showers.
Which were better in some ways than the temporary showers they’d set up in the colony and not as good in others. Still, being part of the skeleton maintenance crew allowed for some luxury they hadn’t been able to afford with the full roster of colonists.
She took a longer bath and enjoyed it more because there was plenty of hot water and it was way fresher than it had been when the ship was loaded with colonists, because it didn’t take as much chemicals to clean and recycle.
She was half asleep as she trudged back to her quarters.
Connor jumpstarted her heart into overtime when she met up with him in the corridor--even though it didn’t occur to her that it was purposeful until he crowded her at her door and dragged her inside.
Thoroughly rattled and confused, she gaped up at him, trying to figure out what was happening or about to.
Total annihilation!
Connor had relieved her of her shower robe before he reached her bunk with her, spread her out on the surface as smoothly as hot butter on toast, and then proceeded to explore everything with slow, meticulous attention to detail.
She was intoxicated by his kiss before they even got to the bed.
Dimly, she realized she hadn’t been able to properly appreciate just how wonderfully Connor kissed the first time he’d kissed her.
Because Ryne had just kissed her and she had still been reeling from that--in no condition to enjoy it as thoroughly as she did his second kiss.
That--indeed the many years she had yearned for him to kiss her--inspired her to return his kiss feverishly.
Her enthusiasm encouraged him to let go of his tenacious grip on his hunger and desperation.
And when he unleashed it, they both lost their minds, fought each other over who was going to remove Connor’s clothing until it was hopelessly entangled and Connor had to abandon her long enough to tear it off.
Unimpeded at long last, he dove at her again and explored her flesh with a lack of restraint just shy of savage violence that stunned Belle with admiration.
Made her a little uneasy that she’d inspired it, also, but there was nothing hurtful about it beyond the intensity of the pleasurable sensations he was generating.
Nothing scary about it because it was Connor and she’d despaired of him ever touching her as a lover.
That thought was enough to motivate her to explore him while she had the chance and they began to wrestle one another for dominance again--which thoroughly frustrated both of them but brought them to the point of no return very quickly.
And then Connor switched from trying to chew on and suckle everything to a frantic search for the sheathe he was desperate to plunge his lance into.
He found it, engaged flesh to flesh in spite of Belle’s incomprehensible determination to play keep away with the gateway by raising and lowering the opening until he had to pin her to the mattress in order to ring it.
The taste of victory was lamentably brief.
Progress was not to be had.
Her muscles clamped down on the head of his cock so hard it almost felt like he’d been caught in a trap. Blackout or broken cock seemed inevitable for a handful of moments until it occurred to him that his mouth was bone dry from panting and also hers--upper and lower.
Planting his mouth over hers, he kissed her deeply enough to get all the juices flowing again. A groan of dismay escaped him as he drove home and his cock instantly bucked in threat.
Desperation inspired him that time. Grinding his teeth, he withdrew, holding his breath, paused and thrust again. “Baby,” he groaned when he hit bottom and his cock bucked again. Two. God damn it!
“Oh god! Connor! You feel so good inside of me!” Belle gasped mindlessly.
Fuck! That did it--broke any semblance of control. He shifted her position and began to pump into her frantically, pounding on her g-spot in a desperate, last ditch effort to take her with him.
Because he was going--with or without her.
He thought for a handful of seconds he’d hurt her when she let out a keen cry and bucked against him.
His cock was deaf, though, and beyond any possibility of slowing down let alone stopping. He came so hard he thought he was going to have a heart attack.
Or maybe an aneurism?
He sank heavily against the love of his life, fighting every inch of the way in an effort to prevent crushing her, feeling completely boneless.
It took all he could do to shift enough of his weight to one side of her to prevent death by crushing, but that shift was sufficient to allow him to roll off.
He took her with him.
Which was a very good thing because the fucking bunk wasn’t wide enough for both of them--side by side.
It was a little unnerving when he draped her over his chest and he discovered she was perfectly limp. “Baby?” he murmured uneasily.
She grunted. “Wha..?”
“It’s ok,” he murmured drunkenly before he fell off the cliff into a dark pool of nothingness.
Belle woke him playing with his dick.
It took him a few moments to figure that out.
Lifting his head, he stared down at his belly and discovered she was propped up on one elbow, stroking his cock with one hand. “This is nice,” she murmured.
Connor felt his chest tighten with pleasure--that joined the pleasure she’d already created with the stroke of her hand.
He wasn’t altogether convinced that he was up to round two at the moment, but his cock was up and he thought, maybe, she hadn’t achieved culmination because he’d gone off like a green kid who had no clue of how to hold his damned seed.
He wasn’t actually reluctant.
He was, in fact, as eager as he had been the first time.
Just a little doubtful that he was up to a better performance and he didn’t want to convince her that he wasn’t worth a fuck in bed.
Sitting up, he caught her under the arms and dragged her up his length, rolling to his side to plant her on the bed beside him.
Her monitor caught his eye as he stroked a hand over her and he paused, removed the fucking thing, and threw it toward the far wall hard enough he had some hope of shattering it. Then he leaned down and covered her surprise slackened lips with his.
Only a half hour of leisurely exploration later, he thought he had her thoroughly warmed up and he was still in enough control of his libido, he hoped, to carry her to the summit.
He’d just managed to surmount her tight little cave mouth when his gods damn com went off.
He ignored the first two attempts to distract him. “I’m busy,” he snarled the third time. I don’t have the time or desire to hold your fucking hand! I’m trying to breed my woman, god damn it!
Silence greeted his ‘greeting’.
“Captain?”
It hit him then that it was Belle’s com.
Not that he gave a shit. “What is it?”
“I was just trying to locate you to tell you that a report came in from the men you sent out on a patrol.”
Connor mulled that over. “It’s urgent?”
Another long silence. “I thought it might be.”
“I’ll be there shortly,” Connor growled.
Breaking the link, he turned to meet Belle’s gaze warily.
She blushed. “I think its morning cycle,” she said a little uncomfortably. “Well--know it is. The tone sounded a little bit ago.” And woke her up but didn’t awaken Connor and she decided that it was a perfect opportunity to explore his everything since she had an unimpeded view.
Connor cleared his throat, considered apologizing for his performance and decided against it. That way he could more successfully pretend he saw no reason why she wouldn’t be joyful about another round later.
If he apologized, that would give her the opportunity to air her opinion and he might have trouble getting it up when he needed it.
He didn’t think he would, but these things could be damned unpredictable.
Rolling off the bed, he collected the remnants of his uniform, examined it with gathering disgust and finally just balled it up for the recycler.
“You could use my robe,” Belle offered a little timidly.
Connor felt his face heat. “Saying I could actually get into it, you don’t think anyone would notice if I strolled down the corridor in your robe?” he asked neutrally.
Belle blinked at him and then frowned. “Well! I’d rather that than you strolling down the corridor buck ass naked with your cock swinging in the breeze!”
The comment startled a chuckle out of him--and pleasure welled inside him behind it. “I think they’ll be able to contain themselves,” he said dryly.
“Well! I’m not convinced!”
That actually shocked him. He scanned her face a little doubtfully and finally grinned at her.
Dropping the ball of clothing, he took the pieces out, shook them, and put them on.
It looked like hell, of course--actually looked like he’d tangled with a beast that had torn it off of him--but he would be decently covered. “Satisfied?”
She smiled up at him. “Yes.”
Leaning down, he captured her face between his palms, kissed her briefly on the lips and left.