Rise (Hold Book 4) Read online

  She gave herself a mental cheer as she gave the man a slow smile. “For you? Of course I do.”

  He glanced around the hall, as if orienting himself to his location.

  “We could go to one of the playrooms in the suite. Or the library is empty,” she suggested, nodding toward a closed door.

  That was another piece of advice she’d gotten from Talia. No matter where you were, always be conscious of places for men to fuck you since you never knew when the opportunity would arise.

  The man put his hand on the back of her neck and guided her toward the door. He applied more pressure than necessary. She didn’t need to be pushed.

  This was the best thing to happen to her all year.

  She wasn’t going anywhere but that room.

  When he closed the door behind them, he asked, “How are you with your mouth?”

  “I’ll let you be the judge of that,” she said, flashing her dimple and lowering her lashes in another shy look after she’d put her stack of books on the table.

  “Good.” He pushed her down onto her knees, not gently but not roughly enough to bother her. The girls in the suite all knew the men who were inclined to hurt them and made sure to avoid them. Officially, a girl in the suite could say no whenever she wanted. It was on the books as an inviolable law—rape was illegal in any situation, including for the men and women who worked in the leisure suite.

  In Coalition space, however, laws were often on the books simply for appearance’s sake. And practically speaking, if she went around saying no to men who wanted to fuck her, she might as well call it quits and go back home.

  Occasionally, if she’d had a bad day, she was tempted. She was allowed to leave if she wanted, as long as she went through a long exit process. Her family wouldn’t have to pay back all the money they’d received when she’d been chosen for the leisure suite last year. It had been enough to provide for her family for the rest of their lives, and it wasn’t contingent on her staying in the suite for any particular length of time.

  But she had nothing to go home for—just a stark, joyless planet and a village of people who’d never really understood her. The old man with the books had died three years ago. He was the only real friend she’d had.

  Plus her home planet was old-fashioned, and they’d likely all see her as a whore. She would hate that.

  She had a better chance of a good life here, if she could get better at pleasing men.

  The leisure suite was for life. When a woman got too old for men to want to fuck, then she stayed to help train the younger girls.

  It was a better life than anything that would be waiting for her on her home planet, and the first step toward achieving it was pleasing this man in front of her.

  She was so excited her heart was racing in her throat.

  “I don’t have much time,” the man said matter-of-factly. “Take off your top first. I really like those big tits. And don’t use your teeth.”

  Her tunic was still hanging open, so she let it slide off her arms. Then she unfastened his trousers and freed his cock, which was already mostly erect from looking at her breasts.

  She wished he wasn’t in a hurry so she could really give him a good time, but he’d said specifically that he only had a few minutes, so she wasn’t going to be stupid and drag this out longer than he wanted.

  She stroked his cock lightly and then teased it with her tongue, paying attention to what caused his thigh muscles to tighten and his breath to hitch.

  Then she took him in her mouth fully. After the first few sucks, he hardened all the way.

  He obviously wasn’t a talker, which was fine with her. He made wordless sounds that proved he was enjoying this, and soon he started to rock his hips with the rhythm of her sucking.

  She loosened her throat muscles as much as she could so she didn’t choke when he pushed in deeper. He grabbed her ponytail with both hands and was holding on to it as she sucked him off.

  She wasn’t as practiced at this as a lot of women in the leisure suite. She’d only been here a year, and she’d been a virgin when she’d arrived—which had increased her value for obvious reasons. But she used every trick in her small arsenal to add to his pleasure. She massaged his balls and then the sensitive spot behind them, and that made him gasp and jerk.

  “Fuck, you’re good,” he grunted. “Now I want to know if your pussy is as sweet as your mouth.”

  She couldn’t respond with words since his cock was filling her mouth, but she raised her eyes to his face to see if this meant he wanted her to stop sucking him off.

  He pulled her head back, letting his erection slip out of her mouth, and then he hauled her to her feet and turned her around, bending her over the table and pushing her shoulders down until her cheek was pressed again the cool metal.

  She was naked except for her boots, and the edge of the table dug into her stomach uncomfortably, but she’d far rather have a man fuck her from behind than have him all in her face, so she was pleased with the position.

  “Do you like it like this?” the man asked, parting her ass cheeks until he could find her pussy.

  She normally met with men in the playrooms of the leisure suite, where there was always lubricant available. Jenelle had trained her to use sexual fantasies to arouse herself, but Talia had to focus so much on using all her skills that it was hard for her to fantasize at the same time. When she had time to prepare, she did it beforehand—imagining herself alone with a vibrator, which was the only way she’d ever come. She hadn’t been able to do that this time, but she’d learned to relax her body completely. When the man wedged his cock into her pussy, she was surprised to find that she was a little wet.

  She was so excited by the opportunity that her body must have reacted.

  “Damn, your pussy is so hot and tight. How does that feel?” the man asked, rolling his hips. Maybe he was a talker after all. “You like the feel of me inside you, don’t you?”

  She’d learned very early that questions like this meant the man wanted affirmation and an ego boost.

  Some women enjoyed sex, but she never had. She didn’t hate it. She just didn’t get pleasure out of it. She’d certainly never had an orgasm with a man.

  She wasn’t stupid enough to let men see this though.

  So she made her voice breathless and said, “Yeah. Oh yeah, it feels so good!” When he pushed into her with a hard thrust, she gave a little cry, like it had felt so good she couldn’t hold back.

  She stretched her arms spread-eagle on the table, palms flat, as he thrust again. Then she started up a series of vocal responses as he fucked her hard. She babbled in a broken, girlish voice about how good he was, how big he was, how much he was going to make her come. She could fake it pretty well now, so she tightened her pussy around his penetration and gradually increased the decibel of her cries.

  He wanted affirmation, so that meant he’d probably want her to come.

  He was holding on to her ponytail with one hand and gripping one side of her bottom with the other. With each thrust, his pelvis slapped against the soft flesh of her ass, making a rhythmic spanking sound.

  He was getting louder. And faster. And rougher.

  His grip on her hair was starting to hurt.

  But he was liking this. A lot. She looked at him over her shoulder to make sure, and there was no mistaking his flushed face, his contorted features, the tension in his shoulders and arms.

  He was liking this a lot.

  She made a loud sobbing sound and shook her body in tight shudders, as if she’d reached climax.

  “Yeah,” the man grunted, “Oh yeah. I can feel that hot pussy coming for me. You’re taking it so good.”

  He leaned over, letting go of her bottom and bracing himself on the table. The move changed the penetration.

  Her stomach was really hurting from the edge of the table now, and her breasts were smashed on the cold, hard surface, her nipples rubbing against it as he moved her body with his thrusts. He was pull
ing on her hair still, but she could tell he was nearing the end.

  Since he seemed to like to hear how much she was enjoying it, she kept up her gasps and babbles. “So good, so good, you’re giving it to me so good. Gonna come again.”

  He really liked that last one. He almost roared and gave her a sharp slap on one side of her bottom.

  She squeezed her pussy around him as hard as she could and screamed with what she hoped sounded like pleasure.

  Finally he let go, giving another roar and falling out of rhythm.

  He released himself into her. It felt like there was a lot of semen.

  She wondered how long it had been since he’d had sex.

  He’d been on the border until this week. He’d only arrived at the Residence a few days ago.

  And he’d fucked her.

  He’d chosen her.

  He’d really seemed to like it.

  She gasped and wheezed as he pulled out of her and gave her bottom an approving pat. “Maybe I like the chubby ones after all. All that jiggling is pretty hot.”

  That was a compliment. Not a nice one but still a compliment. So she was smiling as she straightened up, hiding her cringe as her muscles stretched painfully at the move.

  She was going to have a bruise across her belly, but it would be worth it if he wanted to fuck her again.

  “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” she told him breathlessly. She knew her cheeks were red, and she let her long, dark ponytail swing forward as if she were trying to hide her face.

  He pushed her hair back with a smug smile. “Don’t try to hide it from me. I saw how hard you came. You’ve obviously needed a real man to give it to you good for a long time. Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

  She fluttered her lashes, pretending a shyness she didn’t feel. “I’ve never come so hard before. And twice,” she whispered.

  He chuckled and gave her bottom one more little spank, harder than before. “I’m going to look for you again. And we’ll see how many more times you can come when I have more time.”

  She smiled but kept her lashes lowered.

  Hopefully he would give the leisure suite a donation to show his appreciation.

  If men used the suite but didn’t give donations, then the men and women who worked there would stop offering those men their services. Everyone knew that, so most people would donate at least a little.

  This man was a subcommander. Maybe he would donate a lot.

  If he wanted to think he could make her feel like no one else ever would, then that was what she would let him think.

  He was a man, and men could be easily manipulated.

  This one was no exception.

  She wished she could remember his name.

  She couldn’t wait to tell Jenelle how well she’d done this afternoon.

  And he’d said he was going to look for her again.

  She let him leave first. Then she closed her tunic and tied the sash, shaking her head over the ripped fabric. It could be fixed. It was good that he was enthusiastic about seeing her body. She was sore and stiff and flushed and uncomfortable. She needed to clean herself up between the legs, and her tunic was torn.

  But none of that mattered.

  If the subcommander liked her, then maybe he would want to keep seeing her.

  Maybe she could become his favorite.

  She was only eighteen, and she was still new to this, but she thought she’d done pretty well.

  When she’d pulled herself back together, Talia collected her stack of books and once more left the library to head to the leisure suite.

  Jenelle was probably having a drink in the garden right now. Talia started to hurry so she could tell her friend her good news.

  She hadn’t yet reached the suite when a transport roared up behind her, far too fast for an interior corridor, and barely swerved to miss her.

  The suddenness of it startled her, and Talia jumped away from the transport awkwardly as it zoomed by.

  She fell against a closed door and dropped her books.

  She cursed the selfish idiot who was in such a hurry.

  She was kneeling on the floor, collecting her fallen books, when the door she’d bumped into slid open.

  Looking up, she saw a tall man looming above her. He wore the soft, thin trousers and tunic that were common daytime wear around the Residence. He was barefoot, and as she looked up his body, she blinked when she saw he wore a Combatant’s mask.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, looking down at her. His hair was light brown, and his body was very strong. She couldn’t tell anything more about his appearance because of his mask.

  “Yes. I’m fine. Thank you.” She felt like an idiot as she hastily restacked her books. Leave it to her to make a fool of herself in front of a Combatant.

  When she glanced up at him, she suddenly realized that he was the one who had won so quickly last night. He wasn’t hugely bulky like most of the others, and the slight cleft in his chin was distinct.

  She was reaching for her last book, focused on getting back on her feet, when she discovered he’d leaned over to pick it up for her.

  She discovered this when she nearly knocked heads with him.

  Feeling even more like an idiot, she jerked backward to avoid the collision.

  She fell clumsily on her ass, wincing as the tumble jarred her stomach and groin, which were both sore from the vigorous round of sex she’d just had.

  “Shit,” the man muttered, still holding one of her books. “I’m just making it worse, aren’t I?”

  His tone was self-deprecating and very dry. It made her want to smile.

  But she was still sprawled on the floor with her tunic completely askew in front of a Combatant.

  Combatants had plenty of status during the weeks of the Tournament every year, and the longer they lasted, the more money they earned.

  She certainly would be happy to win the attention of any of them, although they’d never be her highest goal since their presence in the Residence was only temporary.

  They all eventually left to go elsewhere, so they could never make her a long-term favorite and as safe and secure as Jenelle was.

  They were also all young, strong, and fawned over, so they had their pick of sexual partners who didn’t come with all the restrictions of the leisure suite.

  He reached out an arm to help her to her feet, and she noticed when his gaze moved lower than her face. His eyes were a very dark blue. She could see now that he was closer. She’d never seen eyes that color, and she wondered if they were natural.

  When she managed to stand up, she glanced down at herself and saw what had distracted him. Her torn tunic wasn’t just askew. It was hanging partly open, revealing the swell of one of her breasts.

  She found it kind of sweet that he kept trying to focus his eyes on her face, as if he weren’t supposed to be looking. She gave him a little smile as she asked, “Do you always wear that mask, even when you’re alone in your room?”

  He blinked behind the eyeholes of the mask. “Oh. No. I put it on before I opened the door. It sounded like someone had knocked, and I didn’t know who it was.”

  She nodded, wondering why it even mattered. Combatants were supposed to wear their masks at all times when fighting or attending public functions—one of the archaic rules of the sport that served no logical purpose now—but none of the others did so in domestic quarters or when simply hanging out around the Residence.

  “I’m sorry to disturb you,” she said, extending her hand for the book he still held. “I was just being clumsy.”

  He studied the book before he handed it to her. “Do you read all these books?”

  “Why else would I have them?”

  “I have no idea. I didn’t think anyone read books anymore.”

  “I like the feel of the pages,” she told him. “And the smell of them. I used to—” She cut herself off before she told him of the old man in her home village with the shelf of books. Her memories were one of the f
ew things she could keep private, and there was no reason to share one with a stranger.

  His eyes had slipped down to her chest again. He was definitely having trouble not looking.

  “You used to what?” he asked, his voice revealing that his eyes weren’t the only parts of his body affected by the glimpse of her breasts.

  Never one to miss an opportunity—even if it was only a temporary one—she untied her sash and opened her tunic fully so he could see her, exactly as she had with the subcommander earlier.

  It had worked before. Maybe today was her lucky day.

  The man made a weird sound in his throat and turned away in a jerky move, gripping his doorframe tightly as he showed his back to her.

  Talia grew still. “What’s the matter?”

  “Why are you doing that?” His voice sounded very stretched, and his shoulders were visibly tense.

  Confused and strangely upset by his reaction to her innocent gesture, she asked, “You know what the ponytail means, don’t you?”

  “Yes. I know.”

  “Then why are you acting that way? You’re allowed to look at me. You’re allowed to touch me if you want.”

  “And you… want that?” The man was still refusing to turn around, and the knuckles of his fingers gripping the doorframe were whitening.

  She was starting to feel a little better. He wasn’t insulting her. He was new to the Residence and probably to this part of the world. Perhaps he didn’t know all the policies regarding leisure escorts. Most men learned them right away so they could take advantage of what they offered, but maybe this man hadn’t. “I wouldn’t have opened my tunic had I not wanted to make myself available to you.”

  The man turned around, and she saw his eyes run up and down her body almost hungrily.

  She hadn’t been wrong. He did like the looks of her. In fact, he liked it a lot.

  The thin trousers he wore did little to hide the fact that he was getting aroused.

  “So you would just… with me…”

  “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

  “With anyone?” He was still holding on to the doorframe very tightly with one hand.