Jess never treated her that way.
Then the door was closed and she carefully locked it. She went back to the pallet and sat down to wait for him. It didn't take long. The door slid open and he entered the room. She was struck by his sheer size, just as she was every time she saw him. He was so much bigger than any man she'd ever met before.
"I hear you had a visitor," Jess said softly, his voice dangerously soft. A chill ran down her spine, but she refused to show how nervous he made her. She hadn't done anything wrong, she reminded herself. And neither had Moriah. She took a deep breath, steeling her courage.
"You know," she said, ignoring his comment, "you sleep with me every cycle. If I wanted to hurt or fight you I could have done it by now."
"I don't think you want to hurt me," he said.
"Then why do you keep me cooped up here?"
"For your own safety," he replied. "You can't go back in with the women, and I'm afraid to leave you alone with the men. You know that already."
"So if you're only keeping me here for my own safety," she said lightly, "then I don't understand why you would be upset that I have a visitor. I can only assume you don't want me to have any information about what's happening to the others."
"We've been over this before," Jess said, running a hand through his tousled black hair. He didn't look as angry as he had before. By asking him questions she'd managed to deflect him. Something to remember.
"The women and children are fine because Logan and I are protecting them. I told you we'd take care of them."
"I have no reason to trust you," she said quietly. "You've already used me to betray my people. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"
"No," he said coolly. "They were men who held me captive. I saw them kill slaves who were helpless to defend themselves simply because they couldn't work any longer. It was only a matter of time before their actions led to my death, either directly or indirectly. As far as I'm concerned this was a matter of self-defense. It's not my fault that they refused to surrender. We didn't go into this intending it to be a fight to the death."
She nodded, and looked away. It amazed her that he could remain so calm over so many deaths. What kinds of things had he suffered to grow emotional calluses that strong?
"Moriah told me you're giving the women a choice over where they're going after this."
"Yes, we're giving them a choice," he said, coming to sit beside her. She inhaled and smelled his scent.
Tangy, sweaty. Masculine. She felt a tightening in her ni**les, and sighed, leaning her head back against the wall. Why was it that all she could think about when she was around him was sex? No wonder she hadn't gotten any information from him over the past two cycles. It was as if her body had been taken over by a complete stranger.
"Why?"
"Why?" he repeated, his mouth twisting in dark humor. "Maybe because we're all too familiar with what it feels like to not have choices. Have you considered that? Maybe we're human and have compassion for those around us. For a group of women who just lost all their menfolk, your people seem pretty happy. Quite of few have told us they don't want to go back to another Pilgrim settlement. More than I could have imagined, actually. "
"It isn't as if our lives here have been pleasant," Bethany said. "I suppose there were a few good marriages, though. Moriah had one before her husband died in an accident. What about me?"
"What about you?" he asked.
"Do I get that same choice?" she asked. "Moriah tells me that you won't be going with Logan and the others. You have some other plan. Do I get to pick where I'll end up in all of this?"
He stayed silent for a moment. One of his hands reached down and captured hers. He lifted it between them, playing with her fingers
"No," he said finally. "You'll be coming with me."
"What if I'd rather stay with Moriah and the other women?" she asked.
"The other women hate you," he said. "You wouldn't be safe with them."
"I'd be safe with the women who are happy to escape this place, the ones going with Logan," she said.
"Moriah thinks that I helped with the revolt. She doesn't seem to care."
"It doesn't matter," he replied. "You'll be going with me. Accept it."
"I don't have a choice in this?"
"No, you don't," he replied. He turned to her, reaching out and cupping her chin in his fingers. He searched her face with those dark blue eyes and his expression grew intense, dangerous. She shivered.
"From the first time I saw you, I knew I was meant to have you," he said. "I wanted you more than I've ever wanted anyone or anything in my life. Now that we're together, I'm not going to let you go."
He leaned over and kissed her, his mouth taking hers roughly, as if to emphasize the point. For a brief moment she tried to fight against it. She wanted answers, not sex.
She was lying to herself.
She wanted sex all right. As soon as his lips touched hers, it was all she could do to keep herself from straining against him. Then his arms were coming around her, pulling her against him. He dragged her across his body until she clutched at his neck to keep from falling. His tongue thrust into her again and again. She could feel his c**k prodding at her hip, searching blindly to get closer to her.
One of his hands came around the back of her head, fisting tightly into her hair. His head slanted across hers, his mouth plunging into her depths and taking as much as he could before rolling her over onto the pallet.
His weight came over her, crushing her down. His knees pushed between her legs, thrusting them apart as she bucked up at him, desperate to feel him within her body. He groaned in response; his fingers fumbled at his pants. She tried to reach down and help, but he captured her hands with his, holding her prisoner. He raised his head from hers, then spoke.
"You are mine. Mine. No one else gets to touch you, do you understand?"
She nodded, mesmerized.
He lifted his hips and thrust into her without preparation. She gasped at the sudden intrusion, but her body had prepared itself, hot and ready for him. He stretched her open, impaling her with his cock, and allowed his head to drop down toward hers.
"Mine," he whispered again, this time softly in her ear. "You are mine."
He punctuated the declaration with steady strokes into her.
"Who do you belong to?" he asked harshly when she didn't respond. He lifted his head, midnight eyes seeming to look down deep into her soul. "Who do you belong to?" he repeated, voice growing strained.