Around dawn, the storm eases into a light rain. Eric and Warren decide to go, because the storm clouds in the distance suggest we’re only in a temporary reprieve, and they’re evidently trying to get back to ‘the city.’”

“How far is that from here?” I ask, as Warren unfolds a torn poncho he pulled from a side pocket of his pack.

“About half a day’s walk to the east.”

“Southeast,” Eric corrects, on his way back from the bathroom.

“Are there any women there?” Sebastian asks.

Warren shrugs. “Occasionally.”

“Do any of them…fight?”

Eric snorts. “Not if they know what’s good for them,” he says, and I can only stare at him. “Sorry. But it’s true. If you ever wind up there, just…do whatever they tell you to. It’s a lot easier that way. Trust me.”

“She won’t wind up there,” Sebastian says, and I find myself moving closer to him, because that feels safer.

Warren gives me a somber look as he shrugs into his pack. “I hope you’re right.”

After they’ve left, I give Sebastian a shrug. “Well, they weren’t…terrible.”

“All things considered,” he agrees. “And it doesn’t sound like Sylvie’s been to ‘the city.’”

“At least, not that those two have seen. So, should we go?” I glance at the hallway leading to the bathroom, wondering if our clothes have dried. A couple of the windows in this building are broken, and it’s pretty humid inside.

“Let’s wait,” he says. “It’s going to rain again, and we have no idea where the next shelter will be.”

“Aren’t you anxious to find Sylvie?”

“Yes,” he says. “But we have to give her time to find our carvings, and she probably won’t be doing that during the storm.”

It turns out, he’s right. The light rain only lasts a couple of hours, then more dark storm clouds roll in, stealing most of the daylight and bringing another deluge.

“I’ve never seen this kind of rain on Rhodon,” Sebastian says, staring out one of the still-intact window panes. “Have you?”

“Not in person.” I shrug and take another bite of my pre-packaged granola bar. “But every now and then, a storm delays production. I usually watch the satellite imagery, but it’s entirely different to be on the ground.” The rain is so thick we can’t see ten feet in front of the building.

“Come here.” Sebastian tugs me away from the window by one hand. When I turn, he kisses me.

“What was that for?”

“It’s a rainy day. We have nowhere to be.” His brow arches, and his grin burns like a bonfire. “Want to play?”

“I assume you’re not proposing a board game.”

He laughs. “No. I want to touch you. Do you want to be touched?”

I nod.

I do. I really do.

Sebastian kisses me as he pulls my shirt off. My bra is still drying over the bathroom counter, so my breasts are bare, and the material teases my nipples as it slides over them. He drops the shirt on the floor and makes a hungry sound as he looks at me. Then he lowers himself onto his knees.

He takes one nipple into his mouth, and I let my head fall back. My eyes close. I concentrate on the sensation. On the hot, wet pressure.

Sebastian unfolds the cinched waistband of my too-big pants and lets them slide to the floor. I step out of the material. I’m nude now, and my skin feels hyper-sensitive with that knowledge. “Keep your eyes closed,” he whispers. “Just feel…”

His mouth closes over my other nipple as his hand slides down my stomach. I feel like I could jump out of my own skin with anticipation; I know where his fingers are headed.

One of them circles my clit while his tongue teases my nipple, and I’m embarrassed by the sound that slides up my throat.

“Spread your legs,” he orders.

I can’t comply fast enough.

He sucks my nipple into his mouth again and strokes my clit a little harder, alternating firm circles with softer motions up and down. Teasing me as he tests my readiness. “You’re already wet,” he groans, and I feel like that should embarrass me. But it doesn’t. “Wider,” he murmurs around my nipple, while he taps my thigh with one finger. I spread wider for him.

He can do whatever he wants with me. He’s never steered me wrong.

Sebastian continues teasing my nipple and stroking my lower parts until I can feel moisture gathering between my legs. Threatening to drip down my thighs. He bites lightly on my nipple as his finger slides into me, and I gasp, unsure which sensation has drawn the sound out of me.

“Too much?” he asks.

I surprise myself by shaking my head. “No.”

“Let me know if you feel anything you don’t like.”

I nod. Then I close my eyes again. Everything with Sebastian feels new and exhilarating. My body is alive with sensation.

“My job is to make you feel good,” he says, as his free hand caresses my other breast.

“What’s my job?” I sound breathless. I feel breathless.

“To come. Hard. As many times as you can.”

I start to protest—his job seems like much more work—but then he takes my nipple into his mouth and sucks on it while he pinches the other one lightly, and I can no longer remember what I was going to say.

His fingers begin to stroke inside me, twisting a little with each motion, and I lose myself in the feel of him. In the tight, wet slide. In the amazing—and dirty—feeling of fullness.

I think that’s three fingers.

He begins to suck harder on my nipple as his fingers move faster, and now they’re stroking that sensitive spot inside me. I arch toward him, unconsciously seeking greater contact, and he obliges my unspoken demand with faster, harder strokes.

My mouth falls open. There are so many sensations. My nipples are rock hard, each caught between either his fingers or his teeth, each being relentlessly teased by just a little more pressure than I even knew I would like. The slight discomfort of this new sensation brings an edge to my pleasure and heightens the need building inside me. Tightens that spiraling pressure.

“Can we… Can I lie down?” I whisper. I want to lose myself in this moment, without worrying about my balance.

“No. If you lie down, you’ll come too fast. Concentrating on remaining upright will prolong this.”

“Making my job—” Coming. “—harder?”

“Making it more rewarding,” he promises.

I groan as I close my eyes again, and this time when his mouth closes over my nipple, he flicks his tongue against it rapidly. My body clenches around his fingers as my release spirals closer. “Oh, god.” I want to lean back. I want to lie down. I need to relax just a little more. “Sebastian, I’m almost there.”

“Not yet,” he whispers, and his fingers slow down. His sucking and teasing of my breasts becomes…gentle.

“Nooo, don’t stop!”

He laughs. “I’m not stopping.”

“You said I was supposed to come as many times as I can!”

“But I didn’t say I was going to make that easy.”

“Oh, god, please,” I beg, sliding my fingers into his hair, and his strokes speed up a little.

“Say it again. Just like that.”

“Please, Sebastian!”

“Please what?” He applies a little more pressure inside me, and I am right…there. “What do you want?”

“You know what I want!”

He slows down again, and again I groan. I’m so close. “You have to say it.”

“Fine! Please make me come, Sebastian. I need to come.”

“Oh, I know you do, baby. But I love to hear you beg for it. So, you keep that up, and I’ll keep this up.” He sucks on my nipple, hard, and I nearly come apart. But just as my muscles begin to tighten around him—just as my breath starts to come in hungry little pants—he backs off again.

“Sebastian!”

He groans. “Say my name again.”

If he’d change any one thing—let me lie down, keep the pressure inside me consistent, pinch my nipple just a little harder—I’d come all over his hand. But he’s keeping me right there on the edge.

“You’re…mean!” I gasp, as he licks the tip of my nipple, way too gently.

“I know. Poor baby. Maybe this will help.”

He lowers himself and slides his free hand around to my backside, holding me in place. Then he buries his face between my thighs and gives my clit a long firm lick.

“Oh, god, please!” I shout.

He laughs. Then he keeps licking.

I clutch at his hair as my release washes over me. As my body spasms around his fingers. Yet still he keeps licking. And I keep coming.

“Oh my god, rainy days are the best,” I gasp as he stands, and I collapse against him. “You’re the best.”

“I don’t know about the best,” he says with a grin. “But I’m pretty damn good.” He pulls off his clothes, then tugs me toward the mat still spread out beneath one of the broken windows, but instead of laying me down on it, he reclines on it himself. His erection is sticking almost straight up, bobbing a little, and I’m intrigued by that.

It does seem to have a mind of its own!

“Come here.” Sebastian waves me down, and when I settle onto my knees next to him, he lifts me by my hips and sets me on his thighs. Straddling him. “Your turn to take control.”

I’ve done this before. Once. It lasted about three minutes, before David decided he didn’t like being on the bottom. Out of control. But this will be different.

Everything is different with Sebastian.

I reach for his erection, and the moment my hand makes contact, his eyes close. He seems to kind of…settle. To relax. As if he trusts me.

I stroke him slowly, with a light grip, getting a feel for him. He’s big. Soft on the outside, but rock-hard beneath, and he arches into my touch, sliding himself through my fist. “Be still,” I scold. “I’m in control. You said so.”

“Sorry,” he groans. “You just feel so good.”

I recognize his impatience, and it gives me an idea. Turnabout is fair play…

My pulse rushes as I lift myself off of him and kneel on the floor. He starts to protest the loss until I wrap my hand around him again. Then I lean down and take his head into my mouth.

Breath hisses from Sebastian’s throat. He goes completely still beneath me, as if he’s scared of spooking me.

I explore his head with my tongue, sucking gently. There’s some give in this part of him. And when I fit the end of my tongue into the hole at the tip of his cock, Sebastian’s hands clutch the edge of the bed mat. He likes this. So I tightened my grip on the base of his…cock and slide down, slowly taking as much of him as I can into my mouth.

It’s an odd feeling. I feel full, but not stuffed—until he hits the back of my throat.

I ease off of him, still sucking gently, and I let my tongue play with his head again for a second before I slide back down. Sebastian moans, eager, but I decide to take my time.

“Kaya,” he groans. “Baby. That’s a beautiful thing you’re doing. But could you do it just a little bit faster?”

“Nope,” I say stroking his full length with my hand. Then I take him into my mouth again and work him slowly, giving his head extra attention on the tail of every stroke.

“Oh, god, baby please. Just a little faster.”

“Every time you say something I have to stop to answer you,” I scold him. “You’re only making this harder on yourself.”

He laughs, but the sound carries as much eagerness and frustration as actual amusement. “You’re punishing me, aren’t you? For making you wait.”

“Yes.” I squeeze a little harder, and his cock jumps in my hand.

“Well then, let me point out that the longer you make me wait for release, the longer you’re making yourself wait for another one.”

“Fair point. But I’m feeling pretty patient.” I take him into my mouth again and commit to a gentle rhythm. To long, slow strokes.

Sebastian gets harder and harder in my mouth. He makes soft, hungry sounds on the end of every stroke, and his scrotum begins to draw up. To sort of…tighten. “Kaya…” he groans.

I rise off his cock and smile down at him. “Not yet.” But when I lower myself again, he grabs my chin in a light grip and turns me to face him.

“If you don’t sit on my cock right now, I’m going to flip you over and fuck you until you scream my name.”

I laugh. “Aren’t you supposed to threaten me with things I don’t want to happen?”

“Oh my god, you’re a sadist.” He frowns. “I really didn’t see this coming.”

“Well now you’re just exaggerating. You’re not in any pain.”

“You have no idea.” He grabs me by the hips and lifts me until I’m straddling him again. “Please. I’m begging you. Fuck me, Kaya.”

“Or what?” I stroke him with my hand. “You’ll go outside and do the job yourself? Again?”

His eyes widen, and I swear he’s actually blushing a little. “You knew about that?”

A giggle works its way up my throat. “You’re not as discreet as you think you are.”

“You weren’t ready to take my cock at the time, and I needed relief. I’ll be embarrassed about that later. For now, would you just please make us both happy?”

“Well, since you’re begging…” I lift myself and position him at my entrance. Any nerves I had about riding him are gone. Now that I’ve taken him in my mouth, this no longer seems quite so daring.

I lower myself onto him slowly, and the groan that rumbles from his throat triggers some primal need deep inside me. I need to hear that sound again. “Fuck, Kaya, you feel amazing.”

“Likewise,” I murmur as I begin to move, lifting myself, only to lower myself again. Searching for the right position. The right rhythm.

“Lean forward,” he suggests. “Make contact with your clit and try a rocking motion.”

I plant my hands on his chest and try his suggestion, and oh my god. He’s hitting just the right spot inside, and the friction against my clit is amazing.

I lose myself in the movement. In the rhythm. I intended to tease him until he begged for release—again—but now I’m just chasing my own orgasm. Carrying him along for the ride.

He doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, within minutes, he grabs my hips and begins to direct my movements, thrusting up into me, and though I started this excited about being in control, I’m so lost now, chasing my release, that I don’t mind the help.

Sebastian grinds me into him, and I feel him swell inside me. “Are you nearly there, baby?” he murmurs, and I can feel the tension in his frame. The effort to hold back.

“Almost. Wait for me,” I demand, my eyes closed. My hands spread out on his chest. Splatters of rain hit my overheated body from the broken window, pelting my breasts like shards of ice, and the disparity of that new sensation almost pushes me over the edge.

“I don’t know if I—”

“You can,” I insist, throwing his own words back at him. And the truth is that if I let go, I could come right now. But I want to wait until I can’t possibly wait any longer. And I want him to wait with me. “Almost…” I say, and he groans.

“Kaya. Come on, baby. Let it go.”

“Not yet.” I grind harder, squeezing him with my inner muscles as the tension inside me reaches an almost painful peak. “You taught me to—oh god.”

“Are you there?” he demands. “Kaya, it feels like you’re there. Can I come?”

“Ahhh…” I ride him desperately, as sensations spill over me. “Yes! Come!”

Sebastian grunts as the thrusts, and I feel him explode inside me. He grips my hips hard, pinning me to him, shoving himself into me over and over. I have no thoughts. I have no fears. I have nothing but the ecstasy washing over me and the feeling of him inside me, his hands gripping my hips.

“That. Was. Incredible,” Sebastian says as I collapse onto his chest.

“Mmm hmmm. But now I can’t move.”

“No need.” He rolls me onto my side and pulls a folded towel from his pack, which is lying about a foot away from the bed mat. “Here’s a pillow. Let’s take a nap,” he says as he slides the bundle of material beneath my head.

I fall asleep with him still inside me.

*

I have no idea how long we slept. All I know is that when I wake up, the rain has stopped, and I can hear birds singing. It’s still light outside, but the daylight has that late afternoon feel. The sun will go down soon.

“I guess we’re stuck here another night,” Sebastian says, sitting up next to me. “There’s no point in walking in the dark.”

“And in the mud. Maybe some of that will dry up overnight.” I stand and look around for my clothes, but then I remember that the ones that actually fit me are in the bathroom. Hopefully they’re dry now. “I’m going to get cleaned up, then maybe we can eat something?” I say as I dig a wash cloth from Sebastian’s pack.

“Yes. I’m starving.” He pulls his underwear on, then steps into his pants. “I think we only have one envelope of food left, though, so we may have to share. And find some more.”

In the bathroom, I wet the rag, then wipe myself down, wishing for the millionth time that one of the abandoned buildings scattered across zone three had a functioning shower. The bullpen has a shower. Why should the inmates not sentenced to death have poorer facilities?

Still, it could be worse.

“I’m so glad to have that shampoo Audra sent with us!” I shout toward the door.

As clean as I can get, I pull on my underwear and my shirt, then I lean over the sink and wash my hair with shampoo/conditioner from a half-empty bottle Maci sent with me. Shampooing in the sink is a total pain, and I get water in my ears. But feeling clean is a luxury I can’t deny myself.

A thump echoes from the other room, but with the water running, I can’t tell what Sebastian’s doing. Maybe trying to open one of the unbroken windows?

When my hair is rinsed, I wring it out over the sink, then wrap it in a clean-ish towel. I stand to tuck the end of the towel in at the top of my scalp, then I freeze, staring at the mirror.

There’s a man standing behind me. And it’s not Sebastian.

I spin around, trying to control the trembling in my hands. He’s huge. Bigger than Warren. Taller than Sebastian, and almost as broad. “Who are—” But then I bite my question off when I realize I know this man.

Marcus Rowland. The UA champion from three seasons ago. I was his sponsorship liaison.

“Holy shit, it is you!” He’s staring at me as if I might be a hallucination. “I almost didn’t recognize you without your heels and makeup!”

“Marcus. Hi.” I glance behind him, but there’s no sign of Sebastian. Not that I can truly see around Marcus. He takes up most of the doorway.

He’s not any bigger here than he was in the greenroom, surely, but here he feels bigger. Probably because here there aren’t six armed guards standing by to make sure he doesn’t hurt anyone.

“How… um… How are you?” I ask, and the question sounds as stupid aloud as it did in my head, but I’m not sure what else to say. Something is clearly wrong. Marcus wouldn’t be in here with me if Sebastian were capable of stopping him.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He saunters toward me as his gaze roams my body, then seems to snag on my bare legs.

“There was a crash.” I back up until my lower spine hits the edge of the counter, but he keeps coming. “The yacht. The…um…the blimp.”

“Well, that certainly sucks for you, but it’s my lucky day!” He reaches for the towel wrapped around my head, and I let him pull it off. Wet hair falls over my shoulders. But when he tries to lift the hem of my shirt, I smack his hand away.

“No.”

He laughs, but there’s no mirth in the sound. “Don’t make me get rough, Kaya. You know I can.”

Yes, I know. I’ve seen him beat men to death in the arena with his bare hands, and unlike Sebastian, Marcus enjoyed the bloodsport.

“You were the one perk they never offered me, and now it’s like fate has delivered you right to me. Be good, and I won’t hurt you.” He reaches for my shirt again, and this time I clutch the counter and let him pull the material up. I’ll only get hurt if I fight. But if I play nice, it’ll be over soon.

I remember how this works.

“Where’s Sebastian?” I say as Marcus pulls my shirt up, and I’m disappointed to realize my voice is a hoarse whisper. Please, god, let him be okay.

“Keeping it tight, I see.” Marcus’s gaze roams over my stomach toward my breasts, and I’m glad I’m wearing a bra. Not that that’ll stop…anything. “Nice. You always were totally fuckable, in a tight-ass kind of way.” He winks at me—he actually winks!—as his free hand slides around my hip to grip my backside. “Don’t worry. That tight ass is part of the appeal.”

“Where’s Sebastian?” I repeat, trying not to feel his hand as it slides beneath the back of my panties, and this time I manage a stronger volume. “Did you hurt him?”

“Your boyfriend? Is he the new champ?” Marcus frowns. “Wait, isn’t it a little early for a new champ? They only released that girl-fighter a few weeks ago.”

“Sylvie? You know Sylvie?”

“Is that her name? Bitch is hot, but hard as a fucking rock. I like my women softer…” His finger slides into the cleft between my cheeks, and I battle dueling urges to flee and to play dead. To just let it happen.

Fighting isn’t an option.

“Marcus, let me go,” I beg. “I was good to you. I got you everything you wanted.”

He grunts. “You did your job. You kept me happy and healthy, so I’d keep fighting. So your sponsorships would pay out longer. And you never gave me what I really wanted. But you’re about to…”

“Please don’t do this,” I plead as he steps back and turns me by my shoulders. In the mirror, I see him reach for his waistband with one hand. Then he grabs my neck and bends me over until I’m pressed against the countertop. “Please!”

“That is a glorious ass.” He hooks one finger beneath the tied-together side of my underwear. “Looks like someone got here before me. Your boyfriend like it rough?”

“That wasn’t him.” The counter is cold against the side of my face. My teeth begin to chatter, and I squeeze my eyes closed. I saw this happen to Sylvie on the feeds. Only there were half a dozen men holding her down, and she fought them off. She killed one of them and crippled another.

I don’t have a weapon. I don’t know how to fight.

“Well, play nice, and I won’t have to get rough, like whoever did this.” He tugs on the repaired side of my underwear, and it slides halfway down my backside.

“Please, Marcus.” The counter blurs beneath my tears. “Please don’t do this.”

“Shhh…” he scolds. “I don’t mind if you cry, but keep it quiet. Sobbing ruins the fantasy.” He slides one hand over my backside, pulling my underwear farther down. “Take a deep breath, honey. It’ll be over in a few minutes.”

And suddenly, something inside me…cracks. Rage pours from the new fissure in my soul. I can’t do this. I can’t let him do this. Not again.

Never again.

“No!” I try to stand, and he pushes me back down, his fingers bruising the back of my neck. He’s so strong, and I hate how weak I am. “No! Sebastian!” But there’s no answer. Then…

“Is it her?” I can’t see the speaker, with my face pinned to the counter, but I know that voice. Eric. “Is she who you thought she was?”

“Out!” Marcus turns without letting go of my neck. “I don’t need a fucking audience.”

“Okay, but we should go, man. He’s starting to wake up.”

“Fuck. Okay.” Marcus sighs, then he runs one hand over my backside. “To be continued.” He lets me go, and for a second, I can’t move. I’m afraid to. Then he slides my underwear back into place and gives my left cheek an oddly gentle pat. “We gotta get moving, so get dressed.”

“What?” No! “Where are we going?”

He tosses my shirt at me, then fastens his pants.

“Eric?” I demand as I tug my shirt into place. “What’s happening?”

He stares at the ground for a second before looking up to meet my gaze. “Sorry, Kaya. Some of the guys in the city heard me and Warren talking, and they recognized your name. You work for UA?” The guilt-ridden lines in his forehead smooth over, as if he’s just now remembered that. As if it justifies the fact that he’s sold me out. “You didn’t tell us that.”

“Why does that matter? I’m no different than any of the other women in zone three.”

“The hell you aren’t.” Marcus snatches my pants from the counter and shoves them at me. “You’re the opposition. And now you’re behind enemy lines. There are no guards here to protect you, Kaya. And half the champs in the city know exactly who you are and how much you profited from their spilled blood.”

“I helped them. I got them weapons and medical treatment!”

“Some of them.” He nods. “But most of them weren’t yours. What those guys remember is that when you got your fighters weapons, you were arming them against everyone else.”

“But the men out here won!” Terror creeps slowly over me, and I try to beat it back with logic. “If they’re in zone three, they won the entire tournament, so my work for other men couldn’t have hurt them much!”

Marcus shrugs. “You can try convincing them of that. Either way, they’ll all be eager to fight for you.”

“Fight for me.” Tyson’s words come back to haunt me. They tried to take Audra as their trophy. “No! Marcus, let’s just stay here, and I’ll do whatever you want.” And when Sebastian wakes up, he can kill them both. “You can keep me to yourself. No one else even has to know I’m here.”

“Oh, they already know. We’re finally having our tournament. The first of its kind, here in zone three. And you’re the grand prize.”