Find the strongest man there. Give yourself to him in return for protection. It’s the only way you’ll ever survive.

The words kept ringing in Riana’s head. She knew they were intended as a kindness, and in her gut she knew they were true. But they made her want to scream anyway.

Genus 6 was a prison planet.

It wasn’t a penal colony. The Coalition had given up on those long ago, when too many exiles managed to escape and make it back to the civilized planets—sometimes even as far as Earth. So, instead of colonies, the Coalition had assigned otherwise uninhabitable planets as primitive and inescapable prisons. The surface of Genus 6 was covered by a volatile ocean that was poison to human life. The prison hold was built beneath that ocean. Even if a convict managed to get through the structural barriers and the guards, there was no way to survive the ocean.

Genus 6 was hell, as far as Riana was concerned.

There were any number of prison planets in the Coalition now, and Riana had never given them a second thought. She’d heard horror stories—as everyone had—about people unjustly incarcerated and permanently caged up like animals. Stories like that weren’t unusual. The Coalition Council, the ruling body of civilized space, made up of representatives from all the major planets, wasn’t known for using its authority in a fair or enlightened way.

But it wasn’t something Riana had wasted any time or indignation on.

Life sucked sometimes. The Coalition sucked most of the time. And there wasn’t anything anyone could do about it.

So she minded her own business and flew her expeditions under the Coalition radar. Archeologists weren’t particularly valued at present—as they provided neither power nor money for those in authority. They were usually ignored, though.

Which was the way Riana had always preferred it.

She was on staff with an Earth university but hadn’t been on campus for nearly four years. She spent all her time at her digs—usually on obscure aging planets where civilization had died out centuries ago. She’d been orphaned as a child and raised by a grandmother who’d died ten years ago. She’d never had many friends. Her professional colleagues were all she needed for companionship.

Mostly, she just wanted to be left alone to do her work.

And she had been—for the eight years since she’d earned her degree. Until she’d happened to choose the wrong place to dig.

All archeological digs had to be approved by the Coalition well in advance of the project. Riana had gone through all the necessary red tape and had received permission for her work on the Imperial Palace of Karna. And, if she’d assumed that permission had extended to the grounds surrounding the Palace, that had been her mistake.

A mistake for which she would pay for the rest of her life.

A life that might not last very long.

There were no light sentences in the Coalition. All official crimes were treated the same—from trespassing to murder. If a crime wasn’t a threat to Coalition authority or resources, it was usually ignored. So Riana assumed there must have been some sort of covert Coalition headquarters elsewhere on Karna or her breaking of the rules and trespassing on the grounds would never have been prosecuted.

It was prosecuted, though, and she was summarily convicted.

Then she was sentenced to imprisonment on Genus 6, the closest prison planet to Karna.

There were no specified terms on prison sentences for the Coalition. Those who went in never came out.

One other prisoner had been transported to Genus 6 with her—a sleazy middle-aged man with thinning hair and a nauseating leer. The transport landed on water, since there was no other way of landing on Genus 6. The spacecraft must have been designed to be a submersible as well, since it then submerged to the prison structure beneath the ocean.

After it had docked, she and the other prisoner were hauled into the main guard room. The room was foul—dirty and smelling strongly of stale sweat and faintly of urine. They were shackled in mechanized manacles while the paperwork was taken care of, and Riana shuddered with disgust at the stench and at the lewd suggestions her fellow prisoner kept muttering about how he was planning to take her when they were finally dumped into the main prison hold.

She’d been in shock for the last two days—ever since she’d learned what her fate would be. The shock was a blessing, since it had kept her from fully processing what was going to happen to her here.

There looked to be about a dozen guards in the room, but Riana’s attention was held by the man who appeared to be in charge. He introduced himself curtly to the transport officials as Davis and gave Riana and the other prisoner a cursory inspection.

Davis must have been in his forties, with slightly graying dark hair, strong features, and sharp green eyes. He didn’t have the crude quality of the other guards, but he was all business, with no softness in his expression.

He barely seemed to notice Riana, but some of the other guards did, ogling or making crass comments about her body.

She wasn’t any sort of beauty queen or sex symbol. She had a pretty good body, dark curly hair, and blue-gray eyes. Nothing about her was particularly extraordinary, but she was a basically attractive female in a setting where that was clearly rare.

Riana had never felt so objectified in her life, and the terror that had been held back by the shock of incomprehension was starting to take shape in her gut.

This was real. She was really a prisoner, about to be thrown into a prison hold with a couple of hundred rough, violent criminals. With no mercy and no protection.

She’d be lucky if she made it through the night.

One of the guards, eyeing Riana offensively, said, “Maybe we should give her a test drive before we hand her down to the animals.”

Davis stepped over and backhanded him across the jaw—the gesture more effective because of its perfect blandness. “That’s the way to lose your post. We aren’t responsible for what the prisoners do in the Hold, but we are responsible for what happens outside it.”

The words weren’t much comfort to Riana, who was about to get thrown down into the Hold.

“Don’t worry,” her sleazy fellow prisoner said. “I’ll take care of the test drive myself.”

To Riana’s disappointment, Davis didn’t strike the sleaze. Instead, he calmly pushed her towards what appeared to be a small armored vehicle.

It was then he leaned down to murmur in her ear the words that changed everything. “Find the strongest man there,” Davis said. “Give yourself to him in return for protection. It’s the only way you’ll ever survive.”

The advice made sense. She’d never be able to protect herself. Not in a place like this. If she didn’t seek protection from someone who was strong enough to give it to her, she’d be literally ripped apart.

But the alternative was equally unappealing. Giving herself to one of the prisoners—becoming a kind of voluntary sex slave—sounded like it might be worse than death.

She didn’t have time to dwell on the dilemma for very long. Once the sleaze was hauled into the vehicle as well, the door was closed, and Davis sat down at the controls.

The vehicle was lowered into a cavernous room.

The Hold.

As soon as they touched down, Riana realized why the vehicle was so heavily armed. A single guard wouldn’t dare to enter the Hold without some serious defense.

Prisons like this didn’t have individually assigned cells, and there was no separation of genders. It was a free-for-all. Mass chaos. A nightmare of violence and primitive power. Survival was based on physical prowess and strategic alliances. The weak and those without protection starved, or they were murdered, assaulted, or raped.

That could very easily be her.

“I’ll take you around the Hold so you can see the layout,” Davis explained, “before I let you out.”

Again, Riana realized it was an unnecessary kindness—giving the new prisoners time to scope things out before they had to handle the initial arrival.

As soon as her eyes adjusted to the dimmer light of the Hold, Riana could see that the structure had once been set up more like a more traditional prison. There were rows of cells lining the walls on both sides—three levels of them. But few of them had doors or bars so they’d neither keep one in nor keep others out.

Glancing into one of the open cells, Riana saw a naked man on his knees with another man’s cock in his mouth.

She looked away immediately, feeling bile rise in her throat.

What was going to happen to her here?

“Food comes twice a day,” Davis explained disinterestedly. “It’s passed down through the chute, there.” He gestured toward the center of the back wall. “Obviously, it doesn’t make it around evenly.”

Riana had no doubts about that. It wouldn’t be individually portioned, so the strongest would take what they wanted—leaving the rest to make do with what was left.

Davis paused in front of a large cell—twice as big as the others. Looking in, Riana realized that was because the wall between two cells had been torn down to make one big one.

“That’s Thorn. He’s someone to pay attention to.” Davis glanced back, giving Riana a significant look.

Riana peered more closely and saw a handsome blond man stretched out on a bed. He was dressed in trousers and a t-shirt, and he appeared to be talking to someone. She noticed that there were three women in the large cell—all in various states of undress—and Riana realized why Davis had given her that look.

This must be the alpha male of the Hold. He already had three women under his protection. He would be the obvious choice for Riana too.

She couldn’t see the women very well. The one closest to her was wearing a tattered, revealing dress. She had probably been attractive at one time, but she now looked dirty, prematurely old, and used up.

Riana experienced another surge of nausea and tried to fight back her rising panic.

“Toilets,” Davis said, pointing to the right. A doorway—without a door—led into what must be the main bathrooms.

Riana gasped as she saw a man getting beaten by two others just in front of it.

There was no reason to be surprised, though. This was what happened on a prison planet.

Davis appeared not to notice the fight and kept steering the vehicle around the perimeter of the Hold.

They were nearing the end of the opposite side when Riana noticed a particular cell set off by itself.

It was the same size as all the others, except this one had metal bars intact and a functional door. Looking through the wall of bars, she noticed a large man doing one-arm push-ups inside.

He had olive skin, and his dark hair was shaved down close to the scalp. He was really big—tall, broad shoulders, muscular arms and legs—and he was wearing a worn, sleeveless t-shirt.

Something about him fascinated Riana, and she stared as Davis explained something about a system of rewards for “good” behavior.

The man finished his push-ups and stood up, coming over to the bars to stare out at the vehicle. His face wasn’t classically handsome, but the broad forehead, high cheekbones, and square jaw looked both powerful and compelling.

“Who is that?” Riana asked.

Davis glanced over at the man. “He’d never give his name. He’s been here for a year now. He’s a loner. Keeps to himself.”

Riana stared more closely and realized the man must be able to lock himself in his cell—which had to be a real privilege in a place like this. She also noticed a doorway at the back of his cell and saw the edge of what looked like a primitive toilet inside.

This man had the only cell with a private toilet in the entire Hold.

That fact told Riana something she needed to know.

“And that’s it,” Davis said, circling the vehicle back around to where they’d come in. “Time to disembark.”

Which was a polite way of saying they were now going to be dumped into the Hold.

Her mind suddenly became a frantic blur. Riana could barely breathe, much less follow distinct movements as the back door of the vehicle opened and deposited her and the sleaze on the hard, cold floor.

The door immediately closed behind them, and then their manacles clattered to the floor as Davis released them remotely.

Riana shook off her hands, restoring circulation. She was freed of the shackles.

But now she was in more danger than ever before in her life.

The circling vehicle had gained everyone’s attention, and already other prisoners—most of them hard-eyed and dirty, more like beasts than like men—were starting to approach.

She was so focused on the impending danger and her rising terror that she failed to notice the sleaze who’d been dropped off with her.

He made a quick grab for her breast—perhaps thinking he’d better grope while he could, before stronger competition approached.

Riana reacted instinctively. She gave a hard sideways kick, landing it precisely on his groin. She wasn’t physically helpless. Her work required physical labor, and she had always been in good shape—her body long, slender, and fit. She also knew a few basic self-defense moves, as any independent woman did if she traveled alone on the outskirts of Coalition space.

With a strangled grunt, the sleaze doubled over. She aimed another kick, this one at his face, which was easily accessible because he was leaning over.

Her foot slammed into his mouth and jaw, knocking him backward. He gave an agonized howl.

She wished she’d knocked a few teeth out, but her kick hadn’t been quite strong enough for that.

Her easy victory over her fellow prisoner caused a murmur of responses through the Hold. There was also some derisive laughter—hopefully aimed at the sleaze—and a few appreciative whistles.

She wasn’t fooled. She wasn’t going to get herself through this on her own. The guy she’d clobbered had been a scrawny coward. She wouldn’t have a chance against at least half the men she saw circling around her.

“A cunt,” a nasal voice called out. “It’s about time we got a new one.”

Riana willed herself not to be sick.

She remembered Davis’s words.

Find the strongest man here. She needed to find the strongest man here.

The first man she saw distinctly was frightening. At least a foot taller than she was and made like a bull with an oversized chest and unpleasantly beefy arms. He had a long dark braid down his back, and his bare chest was covered with tattoos.

He approached her, eyeing her up and down with an objectifying stare that made her feel like she was naked.

“Thorn will want her,” someone said from the sidelines.

The man turned his head with a sneer, as if defying anyone who would assert that Thorn had a stronger claim to her than him.

“How are you with your mouth?” he asked. He turned back to pin her down with a merciless gaze.

Riana swallowed hard. Her mouth was so dry she couldn’t speak, and her heart was hammering in her chest so painfully she thought it might explode.

This man would eat her alive.

There wasn’t any miraculous rescue in this place. No authority to keep any sort of order. Her only chance of survival was to be smarter than anyone else.

And to ally herself with exactly the right man.

That man—by all appearances—was approaching even now, swaggering with the kind of confident authority that showed his position in this primitive community.

Thorn’s clothes were in better shape than anyone else’s. He also looked well-fed and rested, which wasn’t the case with at least half the people she could see from where she stood. He had a kind of entourage—some men who acted like bodyguards and the women Riana had noticed before.

Riana had met his type before. Arrogant, entitled, confident of their own physical prowess. The kind of superficial alpha male you could find in every ship, bar, and gym in Coalition space.

“Were you going to make a play for her, Asp?” Thorn asked, facing the other man with a manner bristling with testosterone.

It was a silent battle—a wordless duel of power and intimidation.

Riana looked on without breathing, wondering if Asp would back down or if they’d actually get in a fight over her.

It wasn’t a romantic fantasy. It was more like ghastly horror. Both of these men would just use her until she was entirely used up.

Thorn might not be as innately brutal as Asp seemed to be, but Thorn was utterly selfish—she could tell that from the first look—and he hadn’t become the alpha male around here by treating other people as human beings.

Asp eventually backed down, muttering something under his breath as he slunk away in disgust.

Riana was hardly relieved. At least a fight would have delayed the inevitable.

But the inevitable was fast approaching. Thorn stepped closer to her, and his eyes crawled over her body from her shoulder-length curls to her sensible shoes.

“Are you a whore?” he asked blandly.

“No.” She was so surprised by the question that she managed to speak over the rancid texture in her mouth.

“Good. I don’t do whores, although they’re usually all we get down here. You have a good body, which is the only other thing I require in a woman. Two options.” His eyes—a very dark blue—narrowed as he explained, “Be my woman. Do what I tell you. I’ll keep you safe. Or, if you refuse, I’ll turn you over to the rest of them.”

He gestured back to “the rest of them.” Riana’s mind was in too great a blur to see distinct faces, but the rest of the prisoners seemed to be lurking just in the background, like a hungry pack of wolves.

“They’ll take turns using you until they’re bored. You won’t last the night.”

Riana knew his final words weren’t an exaggeration. It was possible some lesser alpha male might try to take her as his, but he probably wouldn’t be strong enough to keep her safe from the others for long.

“What’s your decision?” Thorn demanded, looking slightly annoyed at her hesitation.

This was the moment. The one that would decide her fate.

Common sense, social pressure, and nearly all the evidence told her to take Thorn up on his offer.

Let him fuck her. Let him keep her alive.

Riana glanced around the prison one more time, and her eyes landed on the barred cell of the loner whose name Davis hadn’t known. In the back of her mind, she’d noticed he’d stepped over to watch when she’d laid out the sleaze a minute ago.

Now he was standing silently, one hand resting loosely on a bar.

Her eyes met his for a few seconds, and she saw something there she hadn’t seen in anyone else’s here.

It wasn’t kindness or pity or mercy or anything soft.

She couldn’t really name what she’d seen, but it reminded her of independence.

She turned back to Thorn.

He was waiting, a smirk of pleased entitlement on his handsome face, as if he never doubted what her answer would be.

That did it. She ignored her reason and followed her instinct.

She turned on her heel and kicked out again, this time landing the blow right on Thorn’s hard, flat stomach.

He grunted and took a step backward, more in surprise than real pain.

It was a good kick, but there was no way she could outmaneuver him physically.

“I don’t want you or them,” Riana said loudly, turning her head to look back at the loner in his cell, giving him a significant gaze she could only hope he’d respond to.

A wash of rage transformed Thorn’s face, intensifying when other prisoners started to snicker a little.

Thorn advanced on her like a stalking animal. “We’ll go with the third alternative,” he gritted out. “I’ll take you first and then throw what’s left back to the rest of them.”

It wasn’t an idle threat. Riana knew he would act on it. She would be beaten and raped and then given to others who would do it to her again and again.

She looked back at the loner and felt a wave of absolute despair when she saw he’d turned his back. On her. On the rest of the prison.

He wasn’t going to respond after all.

Which meant there was absolutely no hope for her.

Riana gulped in what air she could over the strangling lump in her throat and turned to face Thorn with the last bit of courage she possessed.

She’d gambled on the wrong man, it seemed. Foolishly. Impulsively. And now she was going to face the consequences.

Thorn made a grab for her hair, which was in a no-nonsense ponytail. She jerked away but not quickly enough.

He snatched a handful of hair and used it to drag her closer to him, the pull on her scalp so brutal she wanted to cry.

She didn’t cry. Instead, she fought back blindly, doing all she could to knee him in the groin. She landed a glancing blow, one that made him huff, but it wasn’t effective enough to cause him to loosen his hold.

Her fingernails clawed at his chest, trying to gouge him deeply enough to hurt. Her struggles were futile though, as she’d known they’d be.

He twisted her around until her back was against his chest and one powerful arm imprisoned her around the waist.

Then something happened. She was suddenly freed, stumbling away with a whimper of shock, pain, and relief.

She turned around to see the loner standing in front of a gasping Thorn, whom he must have just punched on the side.

“What the fuck,” Thorn rasped, staring in astonishment up at the other man. “Do you actually want to claim the little bitch?”

The loner didn’t say anything. His expression was stoic, unmoving, and his eyes never left Thorn’s.

When Thorn swung at him, the man caught the fist and began to twist Thorn’s arm around his back. Thorn wasn’t a weakling, so the physical power in the move was as shocking as it was impressive.

Thorn managed to pull away and got a swing in at the other man’s abdomen. It landed but didn’t have any evident effect. The other man kept coming, lashing out at Thorn with both his arm and his leg, leaving Thorn doubled over and winded.

No one interfered. It must be some kind of archaic code of honor among criminals.

The whole Hold was buzzing with astonished reaction to the scene, but Riana couldn’t look away from the two men fighting.

She was still terrified but for a different reason now. She knew which man was going to win this fight.

She was just scared of what would happen afterward, when she had to give herself to him.

The loner swung again and this time missed, as Thorn finally managed to get in a good move. He leveled a blow at the other man’s face, and his fist glanced off the side of his jaw, leaving blood in its wake.

After that it was a desperate, primitive wrestling match in which it was impossible to pinpoint distinct moves. The two men were well matched, grappling in a tangle of limbs for several minutes before the loner leveled the final blow.

Thorn lay on the floor, bloody and gasping. The loner stood up—not in great shape himself—but he was as stoic and silent as ever as he walked over to Riana.

Their eyes met, and she noticed that his were a startling shade of blue in his dark face. She swallowed and tried to say something but couldn’t think of anything to say.

The other criminals stepped aside, clearly intimidated by the man who’d just defeated their alpha.

It had been a risk, but Riana had thought he might. He didn’t have the biggest cell but he had the best one—with bars and the private toilet. He would have had to successfully defeat others to win it. Just because he didn’t mingle in the warped community that constituted the prison didn’t mean he wasn’t more than capable of tackling it.

She had no hopes that he’d be kind, gentle, or loving. But looking at him didn’t sicken her like looking at everyone else she’d seen here.

If she was going to fuck anyone, it was going to be him.

He didn’t say a word as he faced her, and after a minute he took the back of her shirt in his hand and used his grip on it to push her forward toward his cell. He’d understood the silent agreement as much as she had.

She walked with him willingly—although she clearly didn’t have much choice in the matter. He was a little rougher than she was comfortable with when he pushed her into his cell and stepped in afterward.

He locked the barred door behind them. The click of the lock was both horrifying and a relief.

Now she was locked in this cell with a nameless criminal.

But at least all the rest of them were locked out.

The cell wasn’t very large. There was room enough for a bed with a thin mattress attached the wall, a metal table with one drawer—also attached to the wall—and a bulky object covered by a tattered sheet in one corner. There was also an ancient, battered sink in the opposite corner that appeared to have working water—another rare luxury in this hellhole.

Riana stood in the middle of the floor and waited, something inside her shuddering.

The man gestured into the small nook with the toilet. “You can use it.”

His voice was curt and gruff, and his stare was utterly blank.

She limped toward the bathroom, a little sore from her scuffle with Thorn. “Thanks.” She meant it. No matter how abrupt the offer, it was a generous gesture. She shivered at the thought of having to face the horror of the shared bathroom where she’d be threatened every moment.

When she got into the bathroom, she was brutally aware of the fact that there wasn’t a door. So she was grateful that he didn’t stand and watch her as she went—which he could have insisted on.

Instead he stepped away, and she heard him turn on the water in the sink.

The toilet was an archaic one that ran with plumbing, but Riana was hardly going to complain as she flushed it. When she came out, she saw that the man was leaning over and splashing water on his face.

He even had a couple of towels. She wondered how he’d gotten his hands on them.

“Is your face okay?” she asked weakly, as she noticed him wiping away the blood.

“Fine.”

He sure wasn’t much of a conversationalist.

“I’m Riana.” She had no idea what she was supposed to do. Her knees were shaky, so she sank down to perch on the edge of the bed.

“Okay.”

She blinked. He wasn’t even going to tell her his name?

“Thanks,” she began, trying to speak clearly despite her nerves, “For your help. I mean, for…”

He turned around and stared down at her.

The man was pure physicality. His closely shaved dark hair emphasized the sculpted curve of his skull. His olive skin—it must be natural since there was no sun to tan his skin here—was covered with a sheen of perspiration. He was wearing the kind of sleeveless t-shirt her grandmother had called a “wife-beater,” and it showed off his impressive shoulders and the rippling muscles of his arms. His well-worn trousers were slung low on lean hips. His large build was natural too and—although he was obviously in excellent shape—he didn’t look fake or overblown like Asp.

His features were too starkly chiseled, and his expression too impassive to be labeled traditionally handsome. But power and masculinity radiated off him in waves.

“Do you think I helped you out of the goodness of my heart?”

It was the longest sentence she’d heard him utter, and it made her heart leap into her throat. “Uh, no, but I’m still grateful.”

“No gratitude. I’m getting something in return.” His blue eyes seemed to impale her. “Right?”

She gulped. “Right.”

Never for a minute had she hoped he would generously give her a pass. Of course, she was going to have to fuck him.

He took three steps over until he was standing next to the bed, directly in front of where she was sitting. “Take off your shirt.”

Riana gasped and darted her eyes over to the bars of the cell. The other prisoners were still milling outside, some blatantly staring at the two of them inside.

He followed her look. “There’s no privacy here. You’ll get used to it.”

When he didn’t say anything else, she realized she was going to have to deal with the embarrassment. With trembling fingers, she started to undo the buttons on the front of her shirt.

The man watched her. His face didn’t change, but she thought she saw something almost hungry in his gaze when she dared to meet his eyes.

When she’d unbuttoned her shirt, she slowly pushed it off over her shoulders, left only in her stretchy camisole.

“That one too,” the man directed, his voice even lower and thicker than before.

Might as well get it over with. Riana turned on the bed so she wouldn’t expose her breasts to any passing ogler and pulled her camisole off over her head.

Her bare breasts jiggled slightly from the motion. She didn’t have an extraordinarily voluptuous figure. Her limbs were long and lean, and she’d always been fairly athletic. But her breasts were firm and rounded, so she hoped he wouldn’t be disappointed.

She was almost as terrified of his deciding not to bother with her as she was of having him fuck her.

He didn’t appear to be disappointed, although it was almost impossible to read anything on his face. He leaned down, pushing her down onto her back on the bed. He reached out to cup her breasts—not caressing as much as feeling them. His gaze devoured her half-naked form.

She tried to block out the crude laughter from outside the cell. At least his body now mostly shielded her nakedness from outsiders.

His hands were big and calloused, and they felt rough against her skin. Her nipples had peaked from the cool air and his touch, but she was far too scared to feel any pleasure.

Her chest rose and fell rapidly as he slid his hands down from her breasts to her flat belly.

When his fingers hooked around the waistband of her pants, she couldn’t hold back a little whimper of fear.

He paused, and his eyes returned to her face. “I don’t get off on pain,” he muttered.

Riana swallowed hard and realized what he was telling her. It was a comfort. More of a comfort that she’d expected.

He wasn’t going to hurt her. At least, not intentionally.

She could fuck him. She’d fucked men she didn’t know very well before. The last man she’d slept with had been two years ago—a one-night-stand with a guy she’d met in a bar. It had left her feeling kind of icky, and she’d been avoiding sexual entanglements since then. She’d never had any hopes of falling in love in a traditional romance, so it hadn’t been all that hard to go without.

She had sexual urges like everyone else, but there were simpler ways of dealing with those.

It had been a while for her, but she could fuck this man. He was a better choice than anyone else here. He wasn’t ugly or nauseating, and he didn’t appear to be out to hurt or humiliate her.

She took a few, slow deep breaths and nodded at him.

He must have taken that as her sign of acceptance because he returned to unfastening her pants.

She lifted up her hips so he could pull them off with her panties.

The man stared down at her groin, that hungry look appearing again in his eyes.

Riana panted in nervous gasps, trying to will her body to relax.

He reached down and parted her intimate folds, pressing his thumb against her clit.

She made a little mew in response, feeling a surreal kind of disbelief that this was actually happening to her.

Using his thumb to rub her clit in little circles, the man kept devouring her body with his gaze.

Then she realized what he was doing. Trying to turn her on so she’d be wet enough for him to enter comfortably.

“Rub your breasts,” he said, sustaining the massage with this thumb.

She obeyed his direction, flushing in embarrassment but realizing it was a good idea. The wetter she was, the better it would be. It was actually a generous gesture on his part.

He could have just thrust into her dry and started pounding away.

A lot of men would.

She twirled her nipples between her fingers and thumbs and felt the tugs at her pussy in response. She forced her breathing to slow, taking deep inhalations and long exhalations.

His thumb on her clit helped and her body finally began to relax. She felt the beginnings of pressure between her legs, although her heart was still pounding brutally in her chest.

The man readjusted his hand, sliding his finger into her pussy to test her readiness. She was a little bit wet now and the feel of his finger inside her, combined with his thumb on her clit and her own fondling of her breasts, caused a sudden jolt of pleasure to surprise her.

She gasped and arched up slightly, her mouth falling open on the taken breath.

He grunted and pulled his hand from between her legs. “Fuck.” Something hot had flared up in his gaze, and he began to fumble at the fastenings of his pants.

Riana stared, realizing with a clench in her belly that he wasn’t able to wait any longer.

He freed his cock, although Riana didn’t look down at it—afraid the sight of such an intimate part of his body would push her anxiety over the edge. Then he positioned himself between her legs and lined up his erection at her entrance.

She still wasn’t very wet so he used his saliva to slick his cock up before he pushed it into her pussy.

He was big, and she was tight. And even with his attempts to make it easier, the stretching of her inner walls was intense and uncomfortable.

Riana whimpered, her hands flying up to clutch at the pillow beneath her head.

“Fuck, you’re tight.” His face twisted and his head jerked to the side, his breath hitching in his throat. “Okay?”

She couldn’t say no. This was his payment for protecting her and letting her survive. She took two long deep breaths, willing her inner muscles to relax against the penetration. “Yeah.”

His eased his hips back and then forward again in a small, experimental thrust. His cock moved pretty easily inside her and the discomfort was easing up some.

He’d reared up on straightened arms, holding his chest off hers. Since she had room, Riana squeezed her hand down between their pelvises so she could rub at her clit.

The stimulation had the immediate effect of distracting her from the tight stretching. So when he began to thrust for real, it was neither painful nor unpleasant.

He was panting above her now and sweating, and he made soft grunts every time he pitched his hips forward.

Riana bent her knees up higher and rubbed her clit hard and fast. It wasn’t bad. She could do this. He was an attractive, masculine man, and he was taking it pretty easy on her. Maybe eventually she could even enjoy it.

Then she happened to glance over his powerfully built shoulder and noticed a few prisoners standing in front of the cell, staring blatantly as he fucked her.

She whimpered again, her body washed in the heat of mortification as she imagined what they were seeing.

The man paused with a thick hitch of his breath at the pitiful sound she made. He must have recognized what she had noticed.

With a guttural sound, he jerked his head back to glare at the onlookers. “Back off,” he bit out, the words almost a snarl.

They backed off.

Riana felt the oddest sensation in her chest. A weird, unnerving kind of satisfaction. That everyone else feared him and that he was fucking her.

“Thanks,” she whispered, stretching beneath him and trying to loosen her muscles even more.

He didn’t respond except with a curt nod. Then he began to thrust again.

This time, when she started up her massage of her clit, she felt her pussy clench in response. Suddenly realizing that she should probably try to be a better fuck, lest he decide she wasn’t enjoyable enough for him to bother with, she tried to pump her hips a little, matching the rhythm of his steady thrusts.

She gasped and arched up as she felt another tug of pleasure shoot down to her pussy.

“Fuck!” he gritted out, his face twisting again as he paused with his cock buried inside her.

Riana was panting now, and her lips parted as she stared up him. “Wha—” she began. It looked like he was in horrible pain.

He thrust again, then fell out of rhythm completely. His grunts turned rough and primal as his hips jerked and pistoned against her. “Fuck. Oh fuck!”

She parted her thighs even farther as he drove into her in hard, choppy strokes. His motion was urgent, clumsy, and animalistic, and his features contorted with pleasure and effort.

He came hard. At least, it appeared he did, as he let out an agonized groan and pushed into her a few last times.

He released inside her and then lowered himself over her, bending his arms for more support.

They were both gasping desperately as his body began to relax above her, the clenched muscles loosening and his stoic features softening in carnal satisfaction.

His breath was hot and damp against the skin of her cheek as he muttered, “It’s been a long time for me.”

He’d been here a year, and apparently had fucked no one in all that time. It wasn’t as long as it had been for Riana, but a year was still a significant length of time.

She wondered why he’d told her that.

She was just recognizing the gush of his semen in her pussy and assuring herself that she was up-to-date on her yearly birth control and disease treatments when suddenly all light left the cell, the entire Hold falling into pitch darkness.

Stiffening in fear, Riana let out a strangled cry—feeling like her worst nightmares were coming true.

She didn’t like total darkness, and there wasn’t even the faintest trace of light left.

“Lights out,” the man explained. “Same time every night.”

She hadn’t even realized it was night. She hadn’t begun to develop a sense of timing on this planet. “I don’t suppose you have a night light?” She pitched her voice to sound unconcerned, but it was a serious question.

“There is no light at night.” He slid his softening cock out of her pussy and rolled over, stretching out with what sounded like a sated groan.

Riana couldn’t even see the form of his body beside her. She couldn’t see anything at all. She groped around and was relieved when she felt her panties and pants on the floor. She fumbled until she’d put them on. Then she felt around on the mattress until she’d found her camisole.

The man was breathing deeply. He might have even been asleep.

Riana had no idea what she was supposed to do. The bed was small, and a bed in a place like this would be a commodity. Would he even want to share it with her at night?

There would be nowhere else for her to sleep except the floor, and she wasn’t about to leave the safety of those bars and that lock.

She sat on the edge of the bed, blinking in the hopes that her eyes would adjust.

They didn’t. There wasn’t even light enough for her vision to adjust to the darkness. She still couldn’t see anything at all.

She could sleep on the floor. Maybe he’d give her a blanket—the bed had more than one, although they were all thread-bare and tattered. But who knew what kind of creepy-crawlers lurked on the floor in the dark? Rats had spread from Earth to every planet in the Coalition, and every planet had its variety of bugs.

But she wasn’t about to get on this man’s nerves. He was by far her best choice in this hellhole.

So she got up onto shaky legs and felt blindly in front of her, trying to decide where the best place to lie down was.

“What are you doing?” The gruff words came out of the darkness, making her gasp in surprise.

She turned back toward the bed, although she still couldn’t see a thing. “I didn’t… I didn’t know if you wanted me to sleep on the bed.”

There was a pause. Then, “You don’t want to sleep on the floor. Trust me. You can sleep on the bed.”

With a sound of relief, she groped back toward the bed, banging her shin on the frame. “Shit.”

She fumbled forward, climbing in again and accidentally landing her hand on a hard, warm part of his body. “Sorry.” She jerked her hand away, flushing with embarrassment. She had no idea what she’d touched. His whole body was hard and warm.

Then she felt those big, calloused hands on her thigh. They traveled up until he’d taken her by the shoulders and moved her to the opposite side of the bed. “Sleep next to the wall. I don’t like feeling boxed in.”

Riana had no complaints, and with a little maneuvering she stretched out next to the wall. He shared the covers with her so she felt basically comfortable—except she was hungry and a little sore between her legs.

She was finally able to relax as she pulled the covers up to her chin. The warm presence of his body beside her was oddly reassuring. Anyone would have to come through him to get to her.

It was ironic, that he said he didn’t like to be boxed in.

He was boxed in here. In the cell. In the Hold. On this hellish, inescapable planet.

She wondered what he’d done to get here.

Then decided she was better off not knowing.

* * *

She was surprised she actually fell asleep. And even more surprised that she had a sex dream, given the incongruous circumstances.

It was a dream without specific context—just brief glimpses of erotic images and tangled bodies mingled with the presence of physical desire.

When she awoke, it was still pitch black, and Riana was hot and aroused, her face pressed up against a hard chest and her fingers groping at the belly.

Her first instinct was to sustain the activity and combine it with a humping motion against the strong leg she felt.

But then she came to her senses. Remembered where she was. And who she was with.

She jerked up with a sharp gasp. “Oh.”

There was a rustling of the bedding as the man moved beneath her.

Then he grabbed her and rolled her over. She couldn’t see him, but she felt him above her—his legs between hers, his hands planted on either side of her shoulders.

Her body was still pulsing with arousal and—despite the situation—she couldn’t help but thrust her hips up and rub her groin against his.

If he’d been holding himself back, that move snapped the last thread of his control. He hooked his hands around her thighs and spread them so that he could rub his hard cock against the fabric of her pants, just over her pussy.

Riana whimpered and groped above her until she could claw at his shoulders.

They fumbled around until her pants were off again and her camisole was pushed up above her breasts. He lowered his mouth to one of her nipples—sucking and nipping at it until she was squirming and biting her lip to suppress her cries in response.

He didn’t waste much time on foreplay. Riana’s pussy was wet and aching, and she mewed in relief when he lined his cock up at her entrance and sank in.

It was tight but not uncomfortable this time. And his first thrust caused her to arch her spine and make a silly, childish sound of pleasure.

She couldn’t see him at all. Just feel him—hot, urgent, and so incredibly strong—as he worked up a fast, steady rhythm of thrusts and grunts.

He kept his arms bent this time so his face was close to her—so close she could feel the panting of his breath against her hot skin. Her breasts rubbed against his chest as they rutted, and a deep pressure at her center swelled up into the beginnings of an orgasm.

Her body was moving of its own accord, pumping and rocking beneath him. Their pelvises were too close for her to squeeze her hand between, but by angling her hips she could get some stimulation of her clit from his pubic bone.

Huffing out soft, little sounds of effort, Riana clawed at his neck and shoulders. His speed accelerated, his thrusts becoming fast and clumsy, shaking the bed and her body until her breasts jiggled.

“Oh God,” she gasped. “Gonna come!”

His grunts turned animalistic as he levered up on each in-stroke.

She came with a muffled cry, her body shaking and spasming as the pleasure pulsed through her.

He was right behind her, pushing against her contractions with a few last rough exclamations.

His weight lowered over her as both of them started to come down. He was heavy and hot, but it wasn’t unpleasant. The texture of his breath was thick and damp next to her ear.

After a minute, he pulled up and rolled over, groaning as he sprawled out on his back.

It was still too dark to see anything.

Riana was burning with lingering pleasure and with absolute embarrassment. She never would have believed she could come—have an actual orgasm, a good one—in a situation like this.

She didn’t know this man. She never would have slept with him if she’d been in any normal situation.

But their blind, groping, half-asleep coupling might have been the best fuck of her life.

She’d thought he’d gone to sleep again, but suddenly his low voice wafted over toward her. “I’m Cain.”

“What?”

“My name. Cain.”

“Oh.” She swallowed and stared up at the blackness above her. “Hi.”

They lay in silence for a long time. She thought once more he’d fallen asleep, but then he surprised her by a question. “Why me?”

It seemed to come out of the blue, but she knew exactly what he was asking.

There were any number of answers to that question. There was no one better. He was the only one she could tolerate. She’d noticed the signs that revealed he could take what he wanted, even in a place like this.

But there was only one answer that mattered, so she told him the truth in the dark. “You’re the strongest one here.”